Chapter II: Part 2
Neither he nor his wife ever bought any thing for which they did not pay cash. Their purchases were few in number, and small in amount; and they generally seemed to have exactly the requisite sum about them, rarely requiring change, and never exhibiting any large surplus of the circulating medium. On Sunday, unless the weather was very bad, they attended at the Episcopal church regularly, sitting in Mrs. Wilkins's pew; and regularly did Mr. Tompkins deposite a sixpenny-piece in the plate which was handed round. They did not, however, partake of the communion in that church; why, I know not. It was in vain that Mrs. Tompkins was urged by the ladies with whom she became acquainted, to attend religious meetings of different kinds, held in the evening. It was also in vain that either her husband or she was solicited to subscribe to any charity, of whatever description. They severally answered, 'I cannot afford it,' so naturally, that the ladies and gentlemen on the several committees appointed by the several charitable meetings, gave them up in despair. They rarely accepted invitations to tea-drinkings; and yet there was nothing unsocial in their manner or conversation. They could converse very agreeably, according to the opinions of many of the people; and what was strange, was, that they neither talked about scandal, religion, or politics. Sometimes they spoke of other countries so familiarly, that the question, 'Have you ever been there?' was naturally asked; and the answer was generally 'Yes.' Avoiding, however, any communion other than what was inevitable, with those who were decidedly gross and vulgar in intellect and feeling, and forming no intimacies in the small social circle into which they were thrown, the barrier was never passed by their acquaintances, which precluded familiarity. The amusements of Mr. Tompkins, other than those I have stated--to wit, walking and reading the newspapers--were extremely limited in kind or degree, so far as they were observed. Books of his own he had none. The widow's collection was small: but he availed himself of it occasionally, when smoking, or when the weather was bad. As it was more than a quarter of a century since any of the volumes had been purchased, and they were mostly odd ones, his studies could neither have been profound nor extensive. He also very frequently played backgammon with an old Danish gentleman, Mr. Hans Felburgh, who had brought his wife from the West Indies, to reside in this village for the benefit of her health, and had buried her there. It had been a subject of much dispute why he remained; whether from regard to her memory, want of funds, or because he was afraid or too lazy to go back. My readers, I trust, are troubled with no such impertinent curiosity. No human being can long move and live in the same society, without contracting a preference for somebody or other; but the intercourse between these two gentlemen arose very naturally, as they were near neighbors and both strangers, and as the Dane was without kith or kin in the country.
Thus, as I have said, six months passed away, and the mystery which enshrouded Mr. Tompkins yet hung about him 'as a garment.' Curiosity, 'like the self-burning tree of Africa,' had almost consumed itself in its own ardors; but the vital fire yet glowed under the embers. The people had worn threadbare all the arguments on the questions who Mr. Tompkins was, and why he did not publish to them his autobiography. The all-absorbing topic of conversation now was, 'How did he live? what were his resources?' He ran in debt to no one, borrowed from no one, and kept no account in either of the four village banks; he paid his board regularly, as was regularly ascertained from the widow, who became indignant, however, at the frequent recurrence of the question. The tax-gatherer in his rounds called upon him, and found him only liable to be assessed at the same rate as those were who had neither realty nor personalty subject to taxation.
It was now suggested, and became the current report, that Mr. Tompkins and his wife were secretly connected with a gang of counterfeiters, for whom they filled up bank notes, and with whom they had means of holding clandestine intercourse. Often were they both dogged, on their rambles, by gratuitous enthusiasts in the cause of justice. Mrs. Tompkins was seen to stoop for some time, removing a stone that lay under a hedge. The observer in his eagerness, approached too incautiously, and trampled among the dry leaves. She turned her head and saw him, and went onward, making a pretext of pulling up a handful of violets. Nothing was to be found under the stone, or near it; but there could have been but little doubt, it was supposed, that she had intended to deposite counterfeit bank notes, where her accomplices knew how to find them. Mr. Tompkins was observed in his morning walks, to stop occasionally to talk to some very poor people, who lived in the outskirts of the village, and even occasionally to enter their ricketty and tumble-down habitations. Many inquiries were of course made of them, both in an insinuating and a fulminating tone, as to the object of Mr. Tompkins's visits, and the purport of his communications. But these virtuous, though impecunious democrats, made no other reply, than that Mr. Tompkins was a good man, and a better man than those who came to examine them; and, when threatened, they stood upon their integrity as individuals, and their rights as free citizens, and contrived to empty their tubs and kettles 'convenient,' as the Irish say, to the ankles of the questioners.
But now an event occurred--or rather seemed likely to occur. One afternoon, a horseman, dusty with travel, rode up to the tavern, and having alighted, inquired if a Mr. Tompkins lived in that town. Now there was also a shoe-maker of that name who had long dwelt there. But when the stranger added, that the person he sought for could not long have been a resident, all doubts vanished. Between their impatience, however, to assure him he had come to the right place, and uneasiness to get out of him the facts which were to explain the mystery, the dusty traveller had much difficulty in obtaining answers to his first question, and to his second, 'where Tompkins lived?' All the information he gave, in exchange for that which he received, was, that he had business with the gentleman. He also asked, where he could find the nearest justice of the peace? A bandy-legged individual, with a hump-back, and a strange obliquity in both his eyes, who was drinking beer, came forward immediately, and said _he_ was the 'squire. The traveller looked as if he thought the people had a strange taste in selecting their magistrates; but, telling the crooked functionary that he might have occasion to call on him in a short time, set forth in the direction indicated to him, to find the person he was in search of.
He marched at a round pace; but not so fast that others were not on the ground before him. Several persons who had heard what had passed, scudded off in different ways for the same point, announcing as they ran, in half-breathless accents, to every one they met, that a sheriff had come for Mr. Tompkins. A party kept at no great distance behind the stranger, among whom was the justice himself, who seemed disposed not to be out of the way, should his services be demanded.
As Mr. Tompkins, who was sitting in the porch of the widow's house, reading a volume of the Gentleman's Magazine for 1749, and had just exhaled a cloud of many-colored smoke, was watching the delicate spiral curve of sapphire hue, which did not intermingle with the other vapor, but wound through it like the Jordan through the Dead Sea, (to give the _coup de grace_ to a figure worn to tatters, and beggarly tatters too,) I say, as Mr. Tompkins lifted up his eyes and beheld the prospect before him, he was aware of a man in riding trim, lifting the latch of the widow's little court-yard; behind whom a small crowd, headed by the cross-eyed and cross-legged Coke of the parish, advanced in a huddle, all earnestly gazing upon himself. And, glancing around, through the rose-bushes, lilac-trees, and pales which surrounded the modest enclosure in which he was ensconced, he beheld, peeping and chuckling, the quaint and dirty faces of divers boys and girls, with dishevelled hair and goblin expressions; and he marvelled what in the world was the matter.
The stranger entered the court-yard, and touching his hat respectfully, asked if Mr. Tompkins was at home?
'That is my name, Sir,' said the gentleman.
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said the stranger. 'I have been mistaken. I was looking for another gentleman.'
So saying, he again touched his hat, and retired, looking rather surlily upon the people who gathered round him, and followed in a cluster his retiring footsteps. My tale does not lead me to tell how he got along with them, nor do I know more than what I have heard, which was, that having proceeded a little distance, and feeling them treading upon his heels, he got upon a stump, and looking around him, asked if the place was a Sodom or Gomorrah, that a Christian man, dressed like themselves, could not come into it without being mobbed in that manner? Upon which he marched on at a quicker step, some of the men shouting, and a few of the little boys following and throwing stones after him, till he remounted his horse; and mingling with the clatter of the charger's retiring hoofs was heard the rider's hoarse and coarse malison upon the town, and all the people that lived in it!
----'But with Mr. Tompkins
Abides the minstrel tale.'
'Time rolled his ceaseless course,' as he does now while I write; and I shall record but one more anecdote, being an incident which happened several months after that last mentioned.
A fondness for getting up charitable societies had always prevailed, to a greater or less extent, in this village. But at this particular time it became a _rage_, in consequence of the organization in larger towns of associations on a grand scale; the notices of whose meetings, with the names of the several official dignitaries, as published in the newspapers, inflamed the ambition of the country folks. A society for the Suppression of Pauperism was immediately formed. Under its auspices, at the same time, was organized a society for the relief of the poor and destitute; and, subsidiary to the latter, an auxiliary branch was instituted, for the purpose of seeking out and examining the condition of such poor and destitute people, with a view of reporting their cases to the parent society. The executive committee of the auxiliary branch consisted of four ladies and three gentlemen; who met twice a week regularly, with the power of calling extra meetings, for the purpose of reporting and consulting.
It was certainly most unfortunate that a system so complicated and so admirable should be framed, without any subjects being found to try it upon. It was like a fine new mill, with a double run of stones, without any grist to be ground in it. The executive committee were not inactive; but, strange to relate, unless they patronised some of the members of one or all of the three societies, thus compacted like Chinese boxes, there was never a soul in the place upon the causes and actual extent of whose poverty and destitution they could report, without going to the gentiles whom I have mentioned before, who lived in the crazy and deciduous tenements in the outskirts.
To them, however, the three gentlemen, urged partly by their zeal in the cause, and partly by some sly intimations from the four ladies, that they were afraid of receiving injury to their clothes or to their persons, were induced to repair. Their mission was fruitless enough. While they were talking to some of the members of this small Alsatia below, others from above contrived accidentally to administer libations of ancient soap-suds and dish-water to the philanthropists, which sent them back in no amiable mood, and in a pickle by no means prepossessing, to report to the executive committee of the auxiliary branch.
What was to be done? It was necessary that some report should be made, which, having been approved by the branch and the parent institution, and laid by them before the Pauperism Society of the village, might be transmitted to the great Metropolitan Branch of the General State Association. The grand anniversary was approaching; and what a contemptible figure their returns would make. Under these circumstances Miss Cross called an extra meeting of the executive committee.
I do not intend to report the proceedings of this illustrious delegation, but merely the upshot of them. They actually appointed a sub-committee, consisting of Miss Cross, who was all of six feet high, and a pot-bellied tinman who was only four feet eleven, to wait upon Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins; and to inform them, in a delicate way, that the auxiliary branch had viewed with satisfaction their efforts to maintain a decent appearance, and had taken into very particular consideration the causes of their poverty, and the mode of applying suitable relief. It was well known, the committee were instructed to say, that they were destitute people, because nobody wrote to them, and it was a universal subject of wonder how they lived. They were growing paler and thinner under the influence of hope deferred, or more probably of no hope at all; and if they would quit Mrs. Wilkins's, whose charge for board was too high, they might yet have bright and pleasant days before them, under the patronage of the society. They might lodge with the aunt of Miss Cross, who had a nice room in her garret, and took as boarders half a dozen of the cabinet-maker's apprentices. Mrs. Tompkins could improve her time by washing and ironing; and something might be done for her husband, in the way of getting him accounts to cast up for grocers, running about to collect them, dunning, etc.
So Miss Cross and the tinman went the next afternoon; and, I believe, that with all the importance they assumed or felt, as members of the auxiliary branch, there was a little hesitation in their entrance into the demesne of Mrs. Wilkins. At any rate, I know, that in mounting the three steps before the door, Miss Cross, by a twitch of her foot, either nervous or accidental, kicked her colleague, who was behind her, on his back, or some other part; and set him a rolling with such emphasis, that he found it troublesome to stand up again fairly; or, indeed, to know the four points of the compass.
Mr. Tompkins was playing backgammon with his Danish friend, when his wife opened the door suddenly, with her face flushed, and said, 'My dear, here are a lady and gentleman, who wish to inquire into the causes of our poverty, and the means of relieving it.' She laughed as she spoke, but as she turned away and went up stairs, cried hysterically.
Mr. Tompkins, who had a man taken up, as the phrase is, and had just thrown doublets of the very point in which he could not enter, rose, and issued forth to talk to the sub-committee. I believe, most devoutly, that he was an amiable man; and as to the vulgar practice of profane swearing, I do not think he ever had indulged in it before in his life. But when he discharged this sub-committee, I am credibly informed, that he availed himself of as round and overwhelming a volley of blasphemy as ever was heard on board a man-of-war. I hope it has been pardoned him, among his other transgressions.
Time rolled on, and five years had passed away since the arrival of Mr. Tompkins and his wife at ----. Curiosity as to them had become superstition; though the vulgar imaginations of the mechanical _bourgeois_ of the village had not enabled them to conjure up any spirit or demon, by whose assistance this inoffensive couple were enabled to exist without getting into debt. No letters had come, during all this period, through the hands of the conscientious and intelligent post-master. No deposite had been made by Mr. Tompkins in any one of the four banks; nor, to the best of my knowledge and belief, had he ever seen the inside of either of them; for he never went to a place where he had no business to transact, or was not required by courtesy to go.
Death!--which we must all expect, and meet as we can--Death came, and makes tragical the end of a narrative which I have written, perhaps, in a strain of too much levity. A fever, occasioned probably by local influences, seized Mrs. Tompkins, and after a few days' illness, unexpectedly even to the doctor, she died. Such was the fact; and if I had all the particulars, I know not why they should be given. It is hard, however, to realize that any body is dead, with whom we have long associated; still harder, if we have dearly loved the friend who has gone before us. I suppose this was the case with Mr. Tompkins, who did not long wear his widower's weeds. He died too, only eight weeks afterward.
He followed his wife to the grave, leaning on the arm of his friend, the Dane--for I may be allowed to call him his friend, as he had no other--and shed no tears that any body saw. His habits of life were ostensibly the same as before. He took his morning's walk, and his afternoon's walk, although he had no wife to accompany him then. He caused a plain white marble tomb-stone to be erected at the head of her grave, on which was simply inscribed, 'SUSAN TOMPKINS: Died in the 49th year of her age.' A fever of the same type with that which carried off his wife, seized him, and he died as I have already mentioned.
There is no difficulty in getting up a funeral procession in such country places. Those who would have cheerfully consigned their own blood connexions to Don Pedro or the Dey of Algiers, while living, will make it a matter of business to follow any body's corpse to its last home: and there is no religion, sentimentality, or poetical superstition, in their so doing. It is a mere way they have.
Therefore there was no lack of people to make up a procession, either at the funeral of Mrs. Tompkins or of her husband. There was a group of rather ragged-looking people, men, women, and children, who remained after the crowd had gone away, near the graves on both occasions. They had reason to cry, as they honestly did, for the loss of those who had been kind to them.
It was a strange circumstance, but it was actually true, that when Mrs. Wilkins, under Mr. Felburgh's inspection, came to settle up what was due for the funeral expenses of Mr. Tompkins, and to herself, they found exactly the amount required, and neither a cent more nor less. What papers he might have burned after his wife's death I know not; but the lady and gentleman above-mentioned, who acted as his legatees, did not find the smallest memorandum or scrap of paper left by him. The wardrobe of both husband and wife was not extensive, and the trunks containing their wearing apparel were preserved inviolate by the respectable Mrs. Wilkins. She has since died. Mr. Felburgh went shortly after Mr. Tompkins's death to Denmark. If any private revelations were made to him, he has never divulged them, and I know he never will. When I saw him in Copenhagen, in the summer of 1826, I did not think he looked like a man who was to stay much longer in this world of care. He had not any thing to trouble him particularly, that I know of; except that he had nobody to inherit his property, and that was not much.
There was another strange circumstance, which I must not pass over. A few weeks after Mr. Tompkins was buried, a plain tomb-stone, shaped exactly like that which had been erected by his order over his wife, appeared at the head of his grave; and on it was inscribed, 'HUGH TOMPKINS: Died in the 58th year of his age.' Who put it up, no one could tell, nor is it known to this day.
The burying-ground is as forlorn a place as can well be imagined. There is only a ragged fence around it, and nothing but rank common grass, dandelions, and white-weed grow in it. There is nothing picturesque in or about it; and a Paris belle would rather never die at all, than be stowed into such vile sepulchral accommodations.
These are all the facts in my knowledge, relating to my hero and heroine, as to whom and whose resources curiosity is yet so lively, in the village which I have referred to, but not named, in order to avoid scandal.
'The annals of the human race,
Its records since the world began,
Of them afford no other trace
Than this--there lived a man'
and his wife, whose name was Tompkins.
I superscribe my story 'A Simple Tale,' and 'simply,' as Sir Andrew Aguecheek has it, I believe it is such. It can possess no interest save from the mystery which hangs over its subjects; no pathos, except from their loneliness on the earth, into whose common bosom they have been consigned, leaving only such frail memorials behind them as their laconic epitaphs and this evanescent legend.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] We have no doubt, that in presenting this inimitable sketch of the lamented SANDS, we are conferring an _original_ favor upon a large majority of our readers; while the few to whom it will not be wholly new, will thank us for reviving it in their recollection. It was first published in 'The Talisman,' a New-York annual for the year 1829, at which time this costly species of 'butterfly literature' had attained but very limited circulation. When we remember that it was while writing an article for the KNICKERBOCKER, to which he was to have been a regular contributor, that the right hand of our departed friend suddenly forgot its cunning, and his well-stored mind its rich and varied resources, something of selfish sorrow mingles with our regret, that he was so early called away.
EDS. KNICKERBOCKER.
ROSALIE.
I SEEK thy pleasant bower,
My gentle Rosalie,
To win its richest flower,
And find that flower in thee.
No more, though spring advances,
I seek her shining train;
I only meet thy glances,
And my heart is young again.
Thou art the morn, fair creature,
That wakes the birds and roses,
Thine, is the living feature
Where light and joy reposes.
All day, young joy pursuing,
I've found, when caught, that she
Was the maid I had been wooing,
The wild, young Rosalie.
When first the morning's lustre
Lights up the fleecy plain,
When first the shy stars cluster,
When the moon begins to wane;
Then do I seek thy bower,
With a spirit fond and free,
To win its richest flower,
And find that flower in thee.
G. B. SINGLETON.
STANZAS.
'To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die.'
CAMPBELL.
I.
I GO, my friend, thank heaven! at last I go,
Beyond yon clouds that sail, yon stars that glow,
And every thing that liveth here below
Is dead to me!
The stream on whose green bank I've often read,
The mountain-sward that felt my twilight tread,
The flowers around, the leaves above me spread--
All--all but thee!
II.
Yet, idol of my spirit! from thy heart
And memory, I shall not all depart,
And thou wilt then remain what now thou art;
And friendship's spell
Will with our pleasures people each lov'd scene,
The cascade's fount, the glade's romantic green,
The woodland with the sunset's gold between,
And classic dell.
III.
Oh! is it not a pleasure and a pride,
To think that we on earth shall be allied
With those who loved us, when we shall have died,
And sunk to rest--
And that fond aspirations will arise
To HIM who ruleth earth, and sea, and skies,
That we be, by His saving sacrifice,
Among the blest!
_Philadelphia, October, 1837._ JOHN AUGUSTUS SHEA.
'NURSERIES OF AMERICAN FREEMEN.'
NUMBER TWO.
THE preparation and selection of suitable text-books for schools is a matter of great importance. Books are the great means by which the mind acts, in the acquisition of knowledge. But it is not every thing which bears the name of a book, that is to be regarded as the means of mental improvement. Since the invention of the art of printing, an immensity of paper and ink has been wasted in giving a wide extension to works which display the ignorance and imbecility of their authors, while at the same time, this noble art has placed within the reach of all the result of the mental labors and inquiries of the most gifted minds. The choice of books is of vast moment in the business of education, and text-books for schools require to be selected with great judgment and care.
School-books constitute the only species of American literature which has hitherto met with adequate encouragement. Stimulated by the vanity of authorship, by the desire of wealth, or by a wish to be useful, or by all these principles combined in different degrees, hundreds of competitors have started in this race. American talent has been very prolific in this species of authorship; and that person must be well versed in the subject, who can give even the names of those who have produced spelling-books, reading-books, English grammars, arithmetics, geographies, astronomies, natural philosophies, and other books of school literature and science. In order to avoid the character of plagiarism, or from an ambition to produce something new, or from whim and caprice, changes have perpetually been made in text-books for schools, until there has come to be among them a confusion like that of Babel. Innovation, without substantial improvement, is the bane of school authorship.
That person has a very inadequate idea of the subject, who supposes that it requires only ordinary talents and acquirements to produce good text-books for schools. There is a great difference in these works, indeed, as it respects the ability necessary to produce them. It may require, for example, less talent to compile a good reading-book, made up merely of selections from different authors, than to compose a good text-book on natural philosophy, where the matter requires to be thoroughly digested; but the hand of a master is required to mould every species of material into a proper form. It is a high effort of genius to simplify knowledge, and to bring down the loftiness of science to the familiar comprehension of the youthful mind. A mind of a high order will generally leave its impress on whatever it undertakes; and although it may compose a primer for children, there will generally be something in its matter or form, which will show that it is not the production of ordinary talents and acquirements. Dr. Watts displays the same genius in the books which he wrote for children, as in those profound works in which he developed the philosophy of mind. When the storm of the French revolution was raging, and sending forth its lightning and its thunder, and threatened to rive the British nation in pieces, Hannah More was one of those master-spirits that rode upon this whirlwind and directed this storm. By her small 'Cheap Repository Tracts,' addressed to the common people of England, who in a mental point of view were a kind of children, she became the safe-guard of the morals of her country; and the principal men in church and in state hailed these simple publications, as most happily adapted to their purpose, and as saying that which they could not themselves have said so well.
While distinguished talents and extensive knowledge are necessary for those who would write good books for children, a familiar acquaintance with young minds, the fruit of much study or of experience in instructing them, is of essential importance. For this reason, some practical teachers have succeeded better in producing school-books than some other men, who have possessed greater talents and superior knowledge. But talents and knowledge, when combined with experience, will give superior advantages. THOMAS H. GALLAUDET, of Hartford, whose sermons have received high commendation from English criticism, and which are among the best specimens of fine writing which Americans have produced, if he had never engaged in the business of teaching, might have been an elegant scholar and a fine writer, but he could never have composed the 'Child's Book on the Soul.' His capacity to produce works of that description was acquired in teaching the deaf and dumb. In the institution for their instruction, over which he presided, being concerned with minds peculiarly uninstructed, he learned by experience the avenues to untaught minds, and his simple works are among the finest exhibitions of his talents. An English Review of his 'Class-Book of Natural Theology for Common Schools and Academies,' has the following remarks: 'This work has much heightened our opinion of Mr. Gallaudet's talents as a writer for the young. He has learned (by educating the deaf and dumb,) what gentle patience, and what clear and precise explanation must be used to convey instruction to, and fix correct ideas in, minds not yet unfolded, nor imbued with knowledge. A book like this is no work of chance, but is the result of great expense of time, thought, and tact, in devising and perfecting it.'
To produce text-books for schools, such as are needed, the best talents of the country should be put in requisition. In some instances, such talents have been engaged on this subject; but there is a necessity that they should be much more extensively employed than they have hitherto been. How utterly unqualified many authors have been to produce good school-books, their crude and ill-digested works bear abundant testimony.
It cannot be expected that text-books for schools should contain treatises very much in detail on some of the sciences to which they relate, and hence they should be very select in their materials. In constructing them, it requires as much judgment to know what to omit, as what to insert. Text-books on the sciences for schools should be peculiarly simple and perspicuous in their language, and clear as day-light in their arrangement and their illustrations.
Very considerable advances are supposed by many to have been recently made in school-books. These pretended improvements have often consisted more of show than of substance, and much remains yet to be done, although it is not to be denied that some advances have been made. In works of this kind, there was, in former times, too little adaptation to the comprehension of the youthful mind. In recent times, school-books have been made more simple and more intelligible to children, and it is questionable whether the tendency be not, at present, to an unprofitable childishness. It is not necessary to adopt all the familiarities of children, in order to be understood by them; and the language used in instructing them should always be a little in advance of their present attainments, that they may be continually raised to a higher standard. The Roman women were peculiarly attentive to the language of their children, and by habituating them from early childhood to a pure and elevated diction, they prepared them, under great disadvantages for education, compared with those which are now enjoyed, to be either themselves distinguished orators, or if not, to be capable of apprehending the beauties and feeling the force of the highest efforts of their orators.
In school-books, a great deal of noise and useless parade has been recently made about the introduction of the 'Analytic Method.' Many persons seem to consider this improvement to be like the exchange of the logic of Aristotle for that of Lord Bacon. The analytic method begins with the particular parts of a subject, and after having surveyed them in detail, combines them into a systematic whole; while the synthetic method takes a general view of a subject, and then proceeds to an examination in detail of its several parts. Now it is a well-established opinion in metaphysical philosophy, that while the analytical mode is the only true method for the discovery of truth not always known, the synthetic system has important advantages in teaching well-settled truth. That person must be a novice in the business of communicating instruction, who has not learned that a summary, general view of a subject is an important preparation for a profitable consideration of its several parts, and that great confusion will result from attention to particular parts, without some general and connected views of the whole subject.
A great improvement was supposed to have been made, some years since, in geography, by a new method of classification and arrangement. The subjects on which it treats were associated according to their relation to each other, and not according to their relation to a particular country. Thus, a chapter would be devoted to colleges, and these institutions would be treated of in connection with each other, throughout the world, instead of being separately treated of, when the particular country in which they are 'located' was under consideration. The author of this system was Mr. WILLIAM C. WOODBRIDGE, and his larger work contains, perhaps, a greater variety of valuable matter than any work on the subject, of equal size, in the language. His geography has had a circulation sufficiently wide to satisfy a reasonable ambition, or even cupidity itself. But it is questionable whether his system of classification is, after all, the best. One principle of association is laid hold of, while another and more important principle of association is abandoned. Location of place is every thing in geography; and an association of particular facts with the country to which they belong, is more important than an association of these facts with similar facts, in other parts of the world. After an abundant trial of this plan, it is believed that public opinion is reverting back to the old method of classification. Other geographies, on a different plan, have in a considerable measure superseded Woodbridge's smaller geography, while as yet no work has been produced on a different plan, which has sufficient merit to occupy the place of his larger geography, unless the recent work of Bradford, taken chiefly from Balbi's Geography, be of this character. This work will be found to be exceedingly rich in its materials, and peculiarly lucid in its arrangement.
Among the attempted improvements in arithmetic, what is generally denominated 'mental arithmetic,' stands conspicuous. That arithmetics in former times were too abstract, too little applied to the business of life, is undoubtedly true. To obviate this, mental arithmetic has been introduced. This exercise the scholar generally commences at the beginning of his course. A little of it might not be unprofitable; but it is believed that the tendency, at present, is to give it too great a prominence. It would seem as if, in the view of some writers on this subject, the first efforts of the child in numbers should be to invent to himself rules of arithmetic, a work to which he is utterly unequal. In some recent arithmetics, vulgar fractions will be found mingled, with simple addition, and the child will be required to solve difficult questions in the former, before he is well acquainted with the latter. This is altogether preposterous. Mental arithmetic has much less application to the business of life, than is often supposed. Few men of business rely very extensively on mental calculations, in preference to their pen or their slate, for two reasons. The one is, that in written calculations there is more certainty of correctness, and the other is, that they are incapable of inventing shorter and better rules for arriving at their results, than the rules of a good arithmetic. As an exercise of the mind, mental arithmetic may serve to sharpen the ingenuity, and give vigor to the faculties. But there is another exercise, which has been strangely overlooked by the writers of arithmetics for schools, which would be superior to it as a mental discipline, and that is, a demonstration of the rules of arithmetic, in which the reasons for every operation, in every rule, should be scientifically unfolded. The scholar would thus be led, in the true analytical method, to unravel the mental process by which the inventor of the rule arrived at it as a conclusion. Not more than two or three arithmetics, intended for common schools, have attempted this, in a general and scientific manner.
Among the improvements in regard to text-books for schools, many familiar treatises on general science stand conspicuous. School-literature is taking a wider range than formerly. Even in common schools, by the introduction of such a work as the 'Scientific Class-Book' as a reading-book, two important objects would be secured at the same time; while youth are learning to read with propriety, their minds will also be stored with many of the principles of natural philosophy, astronomy, chemistry, botany, and political economy, with other important subjects. Reading-books for schools have extensively been of that character usually denominated 'light reading.' But too much light reading, it should never be forgotten, is exceedingly well calculated to make light heads. Works for the youth of our schools, should be filled with substantial and systematic knowledge.
Among reading-books for schools, the Bible holds a distinguished place; and there is reason to apprehend that, of late years, it has been too often excluded from these institutions. Moral instruction in schools is of equal importance with that which is intellectual; and no means of moral instruction can be compared to the Scriptures. And even aside from their sublime doctrines, their pure morality, their immense practical bearing upon the heart and the life, there is no book where grandeur of thought is equally combined with simplicity of language, and where lofty ideas are so completely brought down to the comprehension of children. It will hence be found, that the reading of the Scriptures will be to them the most easy kind of reading, and well calculated to produce that natural tone and manner which constitute its perfection. They contain no high-sounding words, introduced to give a factitious dignity, where real dignity is wanting; no inversion, for the purpose of surrounding an idea with a mist, which may magnify its importance. Whether the whole Bible is used, or the New-Testament only, or extracts from different parts of the whole Scriptures, may be safely left to the decision of those who are charged with the selection of school-books. Several volumes of sacred extracts, well fitted to this object, have from time to time been made; and among them, one was executed, some years since, with great judgment and taste, by Dr. MCKEAN, Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory in Harvard University, and another, more recently, by Dr. PORTER, President of the Andover Theological Seminary.
To undertake to discuss, at large, the subject of school-literature, or the merits of the more prominent text-books for schools, would greatly exceed the limits of this paper. But it is a subject of great importance, and one of which no person should be ignorant, who has any concern in the management of schools. Such is the ignorance of many teachers, and even of the most intelligent men in the community, in regard to school-books, that many works of this kind have obtained a circulation to which they are not entitled. No person of general information should suffer himself to be uninformed in regard to school-literature. School books need a literary censorship, very different from that to which they have hitherto been subject. If all the literati of the country were well versed in this matter, and would bring their opinions to bear on school-authors, a public opinion might be formed which would fix the seal of approbation on valuable school-books, and a mark of censure, which would help to consign them to speedy oblivion, on those of a different description. If teachers should not be suffered to instruct without having their qualifications put to a strict test, still less should text-books be introduced into schools, until they have undergone a still more rigid scrutiny, by persons competent to decide on their merits.
It has been suggested, in some of the public prints, that it should be the business of the superintendent of common schools to select text-books for the common schools in the state of New-York. It is questionable whether any single man could be found, to whom it would be safe to trust this important concern. DE WITT CLINTON himself, were he now living, would be unequal to the work, unless he were to qualify himself for it by an attention to the subject, such as he never gave. He, in conjunction with other distinguished literary men, recommended 'Bartlett's National School Manual,' a work containing many good things, but exceedingly defective as a whole. Like Pharaoh's lean kine, it is calculated to devour all other school-books, but after having done so, it would be a meagre skeleton still. The truth is, that a great majority of the most distinguished literary men in the country have devoted so little attention to school-literature, that on their recommendation of school-books but little reliance can be placed. But such ought not to be the case; for the subject is too important to be delivered over to less competent hands.
A systematic arrangement and vigilant inspection of schools, stands intimately connected with their prosperity. They are a complicated concern, and like all such concerns, they require great and systematic attention. School-houses must be provided, fitted up with neatness and convenience, and worthy of the names of temples of science. It is disgraceful to science, to have mean and incommodious school-houses, in the midst of commodious or splendid dwelling-houses. They should be well lighted, have convenient benches and desks, and at the proper season, be easily and comfortably warmed. Every teacher knows how important these things are to the successful prosecution of the business of a school. If the school-room be hung round with maps and charts, and scientific diagrams, it will be so much the better. According to the laws of association by which the course of thought in the human mind is regulated, these things will take a strong hold of the susceptible minds of children, awaken a scientific curiosity, and divert them from their play to the proper business of the school-room, as well as afford valuable aids to the teacher in the business of instruction.
A number of well-qualified and laborious inspectors constitute an essential part of every good school organization. It should be the business of these inspectors to examine into the qualifications of teachers, and to see in what manner the business of instruction is carried on. No teacher should be employed, until his qualifications have been put to a rigid test. In the case of public schools, this should be done by public authority; and in private schools, the patrons should select a suitable number of persons, competent to perform this work. 'Good recommendations,' as they are called, are obtained with such facility, and given, even by persons of respectability, with so much carelessness, that comparatively but little reliance can be placed on them.
Inspectors of schools should frequently visit them, see them in their every-day dress, and learn whether instruction is thoroughly and judiciously given. The competent and faithful teacher will be highly pleased with such visitation. It will show him that his work is not undervalued, and will stimulate him to greater exertion, while the incompetent teacher will be likely to expose his deficiencies in a way which will lead to their correction. Scholars, also, will be greatly stimulated to effort by the frequent and judicious visitation of schools. It will show them that they are engaged in no unimportant employment, and convince them that an education is worthy of their strenuous and persevering exertions.
Public inspectors have generally been selected from intelligent men of business; and experience has proved that, amidst their other numerous avocations, this is very likely to be neglected. Perhaps a different arrangement of this business would be more effectual. Let a thoroughly competent person, a man of large views, and general knowledge, be selected and appointed an inspector, and receive a sufficient compensation to devote a considerable portion of his time to this subject; let him have under his charge the schools of a sufficiently extensive district; let him spend a considerable time in these schools in rotation, inspect the manner in which they are instructed, suggest to the teachers any improvements in the method of instruction and government, and be, in fact, a kind of regimental school-master. In some of the states, it has been found difficult to procure men of sufficient legal attainments for judges of the county courts. To remedy the evil, a chief judge has been appointed, of extensive legal science, to travel from county to county, and to preside, with associate judges, in these courts; and the arrangement has been found eminently beneficial. The course just proposed would equally contribute to raise the character and promote the interests of common schools.
Among the improvements which have been recently introduced into schools, that of illustrating the sciences by means of simple and appropriate apparatus, deserves to be particularly noticed. Apparatus for the illustration of the sciences has long existed in colleges, and no institution of the kind would be thought worthy of patronage, which did not possess it. But apparatus is not more necessary in colleges, than is appropriate apparatus in schools. Indeed, from the nature of the case, it would seem to be more necessary in schools than in colleges. Children and youth, in the earlier stages of their education, are naturally volatile, and need something to fix their attention. They are less accustomed to abstract reflection than persons of a more advanced age, and therefore have greater need of a visible illustration of the sciences.
Apparatus for schools needs to be materially different from that usually found in colleges, which is generally so expensive, as to be altogether beyond the reach of ordinary schools. Apparatus for schools must be cheap, or it will not be generally introduced; it must be neat, or scholars will turn away from it with disgust, and science will be disgraced by its slovenly appearance; it must be scientific, or it will be good for nothing. It may be scientific without being expensive. The value of a machine for scientific illustration depends much more upon its peculiar construction, than upon its mechanical execution.
By the use of apparatus, two avenues are opened to the mind where but one existed before, and the eye becomes auxiliary to the understanding, in the acquisition of knowledge. Appropriate apparatus is alike calculated to illustrate the sciences, and deeply to impress their principles upon the memory. Some kinds of apparatus have long been found in schools. Geography has long had the aid of maps, and no teacher would use a geography which was not furnished with a respectable atlas. But maps alone are not a sufficient apparatus in teaching geography. A globular revolving map of the world, a globe, and a cylindrical revolving Mercator's chart, will furnish important aid in explaining the globular, polar, and Mercator's projections of a map of the world. Astronomy and natural philosophy can no more be successfully taught without the use of machines, than can geography without the use of maps. No text-book on these subjects would be thought fit for use, which was not furnished with plates and diagrams. But plates and diagrams are but an inferior kind of apparatus; the objects which they represent are extensively presented in perspective, and the coarse manner in which these plates are executed, as well as the intrinsic difficulties of the subject, render them but imperfect substitutes for machines and models for illustration. The great leading principles of descriptive astronomy may, by means of a cheap machinery, be made matters of ocular demonstration, and thus be rendered intelligible to children. Natural philosophy acquires a greatly increased interest, in an illustration by experiment. All that variety of labor-saving machinery by which human toil is so extensively superseded, and the arts and conveniences of life so signally advanced, are but different combinations of the mechanical powers. Mechanics, not illustrated by machinery, is a dry study, but by its use a great interest is created in the subject, and some slumbering genius may be awakened in a common school, that may originate discoveries in the arts, which will tell on the destinies of men, like the cotton-gin of WHITNEY, the cotton-spinning machines of ARKWRIGHT, or the steam-boat of FULTON. The time is rapidly coming, when no school will be considered well furnished, which has not a respectable apparatus for the illustration of the sciences, nor any teacher well qualified for his work, who does not understand how successfully to use it. Skill in the use of apparatus must be the result of much attention to the subject; and the teacher should labor to acquire it with the same assiduity with which he strives to make himself acquainted with the sciences which he professes to teach.
It is interesting to reflect on the cheering prospect which the advancing cause of education holds out in regard to the perpetuity of the American government, and the extension of the blessings of freedom to the civilized world. In passing over the long tract of time which authentic history discloses to the view, it is painful to observe how extensively tyranny has swayed an iron sceptre over the destinies of men; how governments, instead of being calculated to promote the interests of the people, have been artfully contrived to cause the multitude to toil and sweat for the gratification of the pampered few. How few are the green spots in the history of man, on which the friend of human rights delights to fix his contemplations! There have indeed existed some commonwealths, under the name of republics, but they have generally failed to affect, to any great extent, the purposes of a well-organized government. Greece and Rome, in their best estates, though denominated republics, were turbulent democracies, or over-bearing aristocracies, and both by turns. Deriving their notion of republics from these splendid failures, European politicians, on the commencement of the American experiment, predicted for it a disorderly course, and a speedy termination. They seemed to have overlooked the fact, that the constitution of the American government, and of American society, is wholly unlike that of the ancient republics. But while they have been watching, and waiting, and in many instances, hoping, for its downfall, their hopes have been signally disappointed. The American government has indeed been exposed to agitations. The storm of party violence and of sectional interest has beaten around it. But, like the majestic oak, instead of being prostrated by the blast, it has only caused it to strike its roots more deeply, and to obtain a firmer footing in the soil.
A general and well-conducted education nursed American liberty in its infancy, and is destined to sustain it in its maturity. The first settlers of New-England, whose example has told so widely on the destinies of the American people, after constructing a few log-houses, for the accommodation of their families, generally proceeded to the erection of a church, and planted a school-house by its side. The cause of education has never been regarded with indifference by the people of the United States, and it is yearly taking a deeper hold of the public mind. The governors of the states recommend it in their annual speeches to the fostering care of the legislatures, as one of the most important public interests, and laws are frequently enacted for its protection and advancement. Means are in increasing operation to raise up a nation of intelligent freemen. There is no fear that the cause of education will become retrograde in the United States. The old states are laboring to supply their former deficiencies, and some of the first acts of sovereignty in the new states consist in legislating for the advancement of the interests of schools.
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 6, December 1837Chapter II: Part 2
0%37 min left in chapter