Chapter IX: Part II (5)

The _third_, and by far the most important series of exercises in Nature's academy, we have ascertained, by extensive evidence, to be the training of her pupils to a constant practical application of their knowledge to the ordinary affairs of life.--These exercises she has separated into two distinct classes; the one connected with the physical and intellectual phenomena of our nature, and which is regulated by what we have termed the "animal, or common sense;" and the other connected with our moral nature, and regulated by our "moral sense," or conscience. In both of these departments, however, the methods which Nature employs in guiding to the practical application of the pupil's knowledge are precisely the same, consisting of a regular gradation of three distinct steps, or stages. These steps we have found to follow each other in the following order. There is always first, some fundamental truth, or idea--some definite part of our knowledge of which use is to be made;--there is next an inference, or lesson, drawn from that idea, or truth;--and there is, lastly, a practical application of that lesson, or inference, to the present circumstances of the individual. This part of Nature's educational process,--this application, or use of knowledge, we have ascertained and proved to be the great object which Nature designs by _all her previous efforts_. This part of her work, when completed, forms in fact the great Temple of Education,--all the others were but the scaffolding by which it was to be reared.--This is the end; those were but means employed for attaining it. In proof of this important fact we have seen, that when this object is successfully gained, all the previous steps have been homologated and confirmed; whereas, whenever this crowning operation is awanting, all the preceding labour of the pupil becomes useless and vain, his knowledge gradually melts from the memory, and is ultimately lost.

The _fourth_, or supplementary process in this educational course as conducted by Nature, we found to consist in the training of her pupils to an ability to communicate with ease and fluency to others the knowledge and experience which they themselves had acquired.--This ability, as we have shewn, is not instinctive, but is in every instance the result of education. It is not always the accompaniment of great mental capacity; nor is it always at the command of those who have acquired extensive knowledge. Persons highly gifted in both respects, are often greatly deficient in readiness of utterance, and freedom of speech. On careful investigation we have seen, that it is attained only by practice, and by one simple exercise of the mental powers, in which the thoughts are engaged with one set of ideas, at the same moment that the voice is giving expression to others. This faculty has been found to be eminently social and benevolent, and intended, not so much for the benefit of the individual himself as for the benefit of society. Nature, accordingly, constrains mankind to do homage to eloquence when it is employed for others, or for the public;--but strongly induces them to look with pity or contempt on the person who is always speaking of or for himself. These facts accordingly have led us to the important conclusion, that learning and the possession of knowledge are not intended merely for the person himself, but for the good of society; and therefore, that education in every community ought to be conducted in such a manner, that the attainments of each individual in it, shall either directly or indirectly benefit the whole.

In these several departments of our mental constitution, and in the principles or laws by which they are carried on, we have the great thoroughfare,--the highway of education,--marked out, inclosed, and levelled by Nature herself. Hitherto, in our examination of the several processes in which we find her engaged, we have endeavoured strictly to confine ourselves to the great general principles which she exhibits in forwarding and perfecting them. We have not touched as yet on the methods by which, in our schools, they may be successfully imitated; nor have we made any enquiry into the particular truths or subjects which ought there to be taught. These matters belong to another part of this Treatise, and will be considered by themselves. And it is only necessary here to observe, that as it is the _use_ of knowledge chiefly which Nature labours to attain, it is therefore _useful knowledge_ which she requires to be taught. This is a principle so prominently held forth by Nature, and so repeatedly indicated and enforced, that in the school it ought never for an hour to be lost sight of. The whole business of the seminary must be practical; and the knowledge communicated must be useful, and such as can be put to use. If this rule be attended to, the knowledge communicated will be valuable and permanent;--but if it be neglected, the pretended communications will soon melt from the memory, and the previous labours of both teacher and pupil will be in a great measure lost.

The existence of these several principles in education has been ascertained by long experience and slow degrees;--and the accuracy of the views which we have taken of them, has been rigorously and repeatedly tested. No pains has been spared in projecting and conducting such experiments as appeared necessary for the purpose; and it has been by experience and experiment alone that their efficiency has been established. Many of these experiments were conducted in public,--some of them have for years been in circulation,--and the decisiveness of their results has never been questioned. The several principles in education which it was the object of these experiments to ascertain, are here for the first time, collected and exhibited in their natural order; and they are now presented to the friends of education with some degree of confidence. Judging historically, however, from the experience of others in breaking up new ground in the sciences, there is good reason to believe, that the present Treatise goes but a short way in establishing the science of education. There is yet much to be done; and others, no doubt, will follow to complete it. But if confidence is to be placed in history, it appears evident, that they must follow in the same course, if ever they are to succeed. Nature is our only instructress; and however much she may have hitherto been neglected, it is only by following her leadings with a child-like docility, that improvement is ever to be expected. By so following, however, success is certain. The prospects of the science at the present moment, both as to its spread and its improvement, are exceedingly cheering. The field, which is now being opened up for the labours of the Educationist, is extensive and inviting; and the anticipations of the philanthropist become the more delightful, on account of the improvements likely to ensue for carrying on the work. The errors and failings of former attempts will warn, while every new discovery will direct in the labour. The virgin soil has even yet in a great measure to be broken up; and if we shall be wise enough to employ the implements provided for us by Nature herself, the present generation may yet witness a rapid and abundant ingathering of blessings for the world. This is neither a hasty nor a groundless speculation. There are already abundant proofs to warrant us in cherishing it. Numerous patches of ground have again and again, under serious disadvantages, been partially cultivated; and each and all have invariably succeeded, and produced the first fruits of a ripe, a rich, and an increasing harvest.