A Practical Enquiry into the Philosophy of Education

CHAP. II

On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in the Pupil's Acquisition of Knowledge; with a Review of the Analogy between the Mental and Physical Appetites of the Young

The second step in the progress of Nature's pupil is the acquisition of knowledge. – This has always been considered a chief object in every system of education; and the discovery of the most efficient means by which it may be accomplished, must be a matter of great importance.

In our remarks upon this subject in a previous chapter, we have shewn, that Nature in her operations employs four distinct principles for accumulating knowledge, for retaining it upon the memory, and for keeping it in readiness for use at the command of the will. There are, First, the "reiteration of ideas" by the mind, without which there can be no knowledge; Secondly, the principle of "Individuation," by which the knowledge of objects and truths is acquired one by one; Thirdly, the principle of "Grouping," or Association, in which the mind views as one object, what is really composed of many; and, Fourthly, the principle of "Analysis," or Classification, in which the judgment is brought into exercise, the different portions of our knowledge are arranged and classified under different heads and branches, and the whole retained in order at the command of the will, when any portion of it is required. – Our object now is to consider, what means are within the reach of the parent and the teacher, by which Nature in these several processes may be successfully imitated, while they endeavour to communicate the elements of knowledge to the young.

Ideas being the only proper food of the mind, Nature has created in the young an extraordinary appetite and desire for their possession. There is a striking analogy in this respect, between the strengthening of the body by food, and the invigorating of the mind by knowledge; and before proceeding to detail the methods by which the parent or the teacher may successfully break down and prepare the bread of knowledge for their pupils in imitation of Nature, it will be of advantage here to consider more particularly some of the circumstances connected with this instructive analogy. By tracing the likeness so conspicuously held out to us in this analogy by Nature herself, we shall be greatly assisted in evading the bewildering and mystifying influence of prejudice, and the reader will be much better prepared to judge of the value of those means recommended for nourishing and strengthening the mind by knowledge, when he finds them to correspond so exactly with similar principles employed by Nature for the nourishing and strengthening of the body by food. We shall by this means, we hope, be able to detect some of those fallacies which have long tended to trammel the exertions, and to prevent the success of the teacher in his interesting labours.

The first point of analogy to which we would advert, is the vigour and activity of the mental appetite in the young, which corresponds so strikingly with the frequent and urgent craving of their bodily appetite for food. – The desire of food for the body, and the desire of knowledge for the mind, are alike restless and insatiable in childhood; and a similar amount of satisfaction and pleasure is the consequence, whenever these desires are prudently gratified. That the desire for knowledge in the young is often weakened, and sometimes destroyed, is but too true; but this is the work of man, not of Nature. It will accordingly be found on investigation, with but few exceptions, that wherever the general appetite of the child, either for mental or bodily food, becomes languid or weak, it is either the effect for disease or of some grievous abuse.

Another point of analogy consists, in the necessity of the personal active co-operation of the child himself in receiving and digesting his food. – There is no such thing in Nature as a child being fed and nourished by proxy. His food must be received, digested, and assimilated by his own powers, and by the use of his own organs, else he will never be fed. In the same way, the food for his mind can benefit him only in so far as he himself is the active agent. He must himself receive, reiterate in his own mind, and commit to the keeping of his memory, every idea presented to him by his teacher. No one can do this for him; – he must do it himself. In a family, the parent may provide, dress, and communicate the food to the child, – but he can do no more; and similar is the case with respect to the mental food provided by the teacher. He may no doubt select the most appropriate kinds, – he may simplify it, – he may break it down into morsels; – but his pupils, if they are to learn, must learn for themselves. When a pupil, to save himself trouble, tries to evade the learning of a preliminary lesson, or when the teacher winks at the evasion by performing the exercise for him, it is as absurd as for a parent to eat the child's food, and expect at the same time that his boy is to be nourished by it. If the mental food be too strong for the child, something more simple must be provided for him; but to continue to administer knowledge which the pupil does not comprehend, and force the strong mental food of an adult upon the tender capacities of a child, is an error of the most mischievous kind. It prevents the mind from acting at all, without which there can be no improvement. The mind must wield its own weapons if ignorance is to be dislodged; and if the child is to advance at all, he must overcome the difficulties that lie in his way by the exertion of his own powers. His teacher may no doubt direct him as to the best and the easiest way of accomplishing his object; but that is all. The pupil must in every case perform the exercise for himself.

This leads us to notice another point of analogy in this case, which is, the necessity of adapting the food to the age and capacities of those who are to receive it. – There is in the mental, as well as in the physical nourishment provided for our race, milk for the weak, as well as meat for the strong; and it is necessary in both cases that the kind and the quantity be carefully attended to. In the case of the strong, there is less danger; because, with regard both to the mental and bodily food, Nature has so ordered matters, that the food which is best adapted for the weak, will also nourish the strong; but the food adapted for the strong is never suitable, and is often poisonous to the weak. There must therefore be, in all cases where the young are concerned, as careful a selection of the mental food, as there is of the food for the body; and the parent or teacher should, in all cases, present only such subjects, and such ideas to his pupils, as the state of their faculties, or the progress of their knowledge, enables them to understand and apply.

Another striking point of analogy between mental and bodily nourishment, is to be found in the effects of repletion, when too great a quantity of food is communicated at one time. – As the increase of a child's bodily strength does not depend upon the mere quantity of food forced into his stomach, but upon that portion only which is healthfully digested and assimilated; so in like manner, the amount of a child's knowledge will not correspond to the number of ideas forced upon his attention by the teacher, but to those only which have been reiterated by the mind, and committed by that process to the keeping of the memory. In both cases, the evil of repletion is two-fold; there is the waste of food and of labour, while the strength and the growth of the child, instead of being promoted, are retarded and diminished. The physical appetite gains strength, by moderate exercise; but it is palled and weakened by every instance of repletion. The desire for food is never for any length of time at rest, so long as the stomach is kept in proper tone by moderate and frequent feeding; and the quantity of food which a healthy child will in these circumstances consume, is often surprising. But whenever the stomach is gorged, then restlessness, uneasiness, and not unfrequently disease, are the consequences. The digestive powers are weakened, the tone of the stomach is relaxed, and, instead of the healthful craving for food which should occur at the proper interval, the appetite is destroyed, and food of every kind is nauseated. – Exactly similar is the case with the mental appetite. The natural curiosity of children, or, in other words, their desire of information, before it is checked or overloaded by mismanagement, is almost insatiable; and the astonishing amount of knowledge which they usually acquire between the ages of one and three years, while under the guidance of Nature, has been formerly alluded to. But this desire of information, and this capacity for receiving it, are by no means confined to that early period of their lives. The same appetite for knowledge would increase and acquire additional strength, were it but properly directed, or furnished with moderate and suitable means of gratification. But when a parent or teacher impatiently attempts to force it upon the child more rapidly than he can receive it, – that is, than he can reiterate it in his mind for himself, – he not only irritates and harasses the child, but his attempt neutralizes the effect of the ideas which the child would otherwise pleasantly and efficiently have received. Every such attempt to do more than enough greatly weakens the powers of the pupil's mind, and discourages him from any after attempt to increase his knowledge.

As a general maxim in the education of the young, it may here be observed, that as long as the understanding of a child remains clear, and he can distinctly perceive the truths which are communicated to him, he will find himself pleasantly and profitably employed, and will soon acquire a habit of distinct mental vision; – the powers of his mind will be rapidly expanded and strengthened, and he will receive and retain the knowledge communicated to him with ease and with pleasure. But when, on the contrary, he is overtasked, and more ideas are forced upon his attention than his capacity can receive, the mind becomes disturbed and confused, the mental perception becomes cloudy and indistinct, and all that is communicated in these circumstances is absolutely lost. If the parent or teacher insists on the pupil persevering in his mental meal, in the hope that things will get better, we can easily, from the present analogy, perceive the fallacy of such a hope. Perseverance will only create additional perplexity; the whole powers of the child's mind will become more and more enfeebled, or totally prostrated; the labour of the teacher will be lost; and he will find his pupil now, and for some time afterwards, much less able to take a clear and distinct view of any subject than he was before.

There is yet one other point of analogy between the supply of food for the body and the mind, to which we must also allude. It is to be found in the baneful, and often destructive, effects of unnatural stimulants applied to the mental appetite, which strikingly correspond in their effects to the pernicious habit of supplying stimulants to the young in their ordinary food. – Stimulants will no doubt, in both cases, produce for the time additional excitement; – but they are neither natural nor necessary. In all ordinary cases, Nature has made ample provision for the supposed want, of which the craving – the natural and healthy craving – of children for knowledge and for food, gives ample testimony. To counteract or to weaken this natural desire would be improper; – but artificially to increase it is always dangerous. The reason is obvious; for the excitement thus caused being unnatural, it is always temporary; but its pernicious effects very soon become extensive and permanent. Every physician knows, that the habitual use of stimulants in the food of the young, weakens the tone of the stomach, palls the appetite, creates a disrelish for plain and wholesome food, and frequently destroys the powers of digestion for ever after. Very similar are the effects of unnatural stimulants to the mental appetite in training and teaching the young, when these stimulants are habitually, or even frequently administered. Their curiosity, – their appetite for knowledge, – is naturally so vigorous, that the repetition, or the reading of any story, however commonplace or uninteresting to us, gives them the sincerest pleasure, provided only that they understand and can follow it. This is a most wise and beneficent provision of Nature, of which parents and teachers should be careful to take advantage. It is because of this disposition in children, that in all ordinary cases, the simplest narrative or anecdote in ordinary life, may be successfully employed in giving them mental strength, and in communicating permanent moral instruction. But whenever unnatural and injudicious excitements are used in their instruction, and the child's imagination has been stimulated and defiled by the ideas of giants and ogres, fairies and ghosts, the whole natural tone of the mind is destroyed, plain and even interesting stories and narratives lose their proper attraction, and a diseased and insatiable appetite for the marvellous and the horrible is generally created. Even to adults, and much more to children, whose minds have been thus abused, the plain paths of probability and truth have lost every charm; and the study of abstract but useful subjects becomes to them a nauseous task – an intolerable burden.

The accuracy of this analogy, we think, will readily be admitted by all. And if so, it will at least help to illustrate, if it does not prove, some of the important conclusions to which we shall find ourselves led upon other, and philosophical grounds. But as the prejudices which, during several centuries, have been gradually congregating around the science of education are so many and so powerful, every legitimate means, and this among others, should be combined for the purpose of removing them.

CHAP. III.How Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge to the Pupil, by the Reiteration of Ideas.The phenomenon in mechanics and natural philosophy, which is popularly termed "Suction," may be exhibited in a thousand different ways, and yet all are the result of but one cause. When we witness the various phenomena of the air and common pump, – the barometer and the cupping glass, – the sipping of our tea, and the traversing of an insect on the mirror or the roof, – the operations appear so very dissimilar, that we are ready to attribute them to the action of a variety of agents. But it is not so; – for when we trace each of them back to its primitive cause, we find that each and all of these wonders are produced by the weight of the atmosphere, and that alone. In precisely the same manner, knowledge may apparently be communicated to the human mind in a thousand different ways; and yet, when we examine each, and trace it to its primitive cause, we find the phenomenon to be one – and one alone. The truth has been received and lodged with the memory, – made part of our knowledge – by the reiteration of its idea by the mind itself; – by an exercise of active, voluntary thought upon the knowledge thus communicated. The cause and the effect invariably follow each other both in old and young; for whenever a new idea is perceived and reiterated by the pupil, – if it should be but once, – the knowledge of the child is to that extent increased; but whenever this act of the mind is awanting, there can be no additional information received; – the increase of knowledge is found to be impossible. This appears to be a law of our Nature, to which we know of no exception.

CHAP. III

How Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge to the Pupil, by the Reiteration of Ideas

The phenomenon in mechanics and natural philosophy, which is popularly termed "Suction," may be exhibited in a thousand different ways, and yet all are the result of but one cause. When we witness the various phenomena of the air and common pump, – the barometer and the cupping glass, – the sipping of our tea, and the traversing of an insect on the mirror or the roof, – the operations appear so very dissimilar, that we are ready to attribute them to the action of a variety of agents. But it is not so; – for when we trace each of them back to its primitive cause, we find that each and all of these wonders are produced by the weight of the atmosphere, and that alone. In precisely the same manner, knowledge may apparently be communicated to the human mind in a thousand different ways; and yet, when we examine each, and trace it to its primitive cause, we find the phenomenon to be one – and one alone. The truth has been received and lodged with the memory, – made part of our knowledge – by the reiteration of its idea by the mind itself; – by an exercise of active, voluntary thought upon the knowledge thus communicated. The cause and the effect invariably follow each other both in old and young; for whenever a new idea is perceived and reiterated by the pupil, – if it should be but once, – the knowledge of the child is to that extent increased; but whenever this act of the mind is awanting, there can be no additional information received; – the increase of knowledge is found to be impossible. This appears to be a law of our Nature, to which we know of no exception.

It is also worthy of remark here, that the retention or permanence of the ideas thus committed to the keeping of the memory depends upon two circumstances. The first is, the vigour of the mental powers, or the intensity of the impression made upon them at the time of reiteration; – and the second, and certainly the principal circumstance, is the frequency of their reiteration by the mind. In evidence of the first we see, that a fall, a fright, or a narrow escape from imminent danger, although it occurred but once, and perhaps in early infancy, will be remembered through life; and in proof of the second, we find, that the scenes and circumstances of childhood being frequently and daily reiterated by the mind, at a time when it has little else to reiterate, remain permanently on the memory. The object therefore most to be desired by the teacher, is an exercise, or a series of exercises, by which, in his attempts to communicate knowledge to his pupil, this act of reiteration may be secured, and if possible repeated at pleasure, for more permanently fixing on the memory the knowledge communicated.

In a former chapter we shewed, that this act of reiteration is the instrument employed by Nature for cultivating the powers of the mind as well as for communicating and impressing knowledge; – and we have also shewn that Nature in that process was successfully imitated by means of the catechetical exercise. This exercise has accordingly been found as powerful and efficient in promoting this, her second object, as it is in the first. The success of the catechetical exercise in communicating knowledge clearly to the young, even when it is but imperfectly managed, has been extensive and uniform; but wherever its nature has been properly understood, and it has been scientifically conducted, the amount of knowledge communicated in a given time, and with a given amount of mental and physical labour, stands confessedly without a parallel in the previous history of education. Minds the most obtuse, habits of listlessness the most inveterate, and mental imbecility, bordering on idiotcy, have been powerfully assailed and overcome; and knowledge, by means of this exercise, has forced its way, and firmly secured a place for itself, in minds which previously were little more than a blank.

The causes of its success in cultivating the powers of the mind were formerly explained; but its adaptation to the communicating of knowledge is still more peculiarly striking. We shall endeavour to point out a few of these peculiarities.

Let us for that purpose suppose a teacher desirous of communicating to a child the important fact, that "God at first made all things of nothing to shew his greatness;" it must be done, either by the child reading or hearing the sentence. If it be read, there is at least a chance, that the words may be all decyphered, and audibly pronounced, while the ideas contained in them have not yet reached the mind. The child may have carefully examined each word as it occurred, and may have reiterated each of them on his mind as he read them, and yet there may not be the slightest addition to his knowledge. The reiteration of words, as we have before explained, is not that which Nature requires, but the reiteration of ideas; and although we may, by substituting the one for the other, deceive ourselves, Nature will not be deceived; for unless the ideas contained in the sentence be reiterated by the mind, there can be no additional information conveyed. – The same thing may happen, if the words, instead of being read by the child, are announced by the teacher. The pupil may in that case hear the sounds; nay, he may repeat the words, and thus reiterate them in his mind after the teacher; but if he has not translated the words into their proper ideas as he proceeded, experience proves, that his knowledge remains as limited as before; – there has been no additional information. These cases are so common, and so uniform, that no farther illustration we think needs be given of them.

The desideratum in both these cases is, some exercise by which the child shall be compelled to translate the words into their several ideas; and by reiterating the ideas themselves, not the words which convey them, he shall be enabled at once to commit them to the keeping of the memory, and thus make them part of his knowledge. The catechetical exercise supplies this want. For if, in either case, after the words have been read or repeated, the child is asked, "What did God make?" the translation of the words into the ideas, if previously neglected, is now forced upon him, because without this it is impossible for him to prepare the answer. The ideas must be drawn from the words, and reiterated by the mind, independently of the words, before the exercise can be completed. And not only must the particular idea which answers the question be extracted, but the whole of the ideas contained in the sentence must be reiterated by the mind, before the selection can be begun, and the choice made. It is also specially worthy of remark, that even in such a case as this, where, on the sentence being read or heard, the words alone were at first perceived, yet no sooner does the mind proceed to its legitimate object, the reiteration of the ideas which the words convey, than the words themselves are instantly lost sight of, and in one sense are never again thought of. As soon as the kernel is extracted, the shell has lost its value. The pupil having once got sight of the ideas, tenaciously keeps hold of them, and never once thinks again of the words, which were merely the instrument employed by Nature to convey them. When the question is asked, and he answers it, the process consists in his translating the words of the whole sentence into their several ideas, chusing out the idea which answers the question from all the others, and then in clothing that idea in words which are now entirely his own.

In all this there is a long and intricate series of mental exercises, in every one of which the mind is actively employed, and it is in this, as before explained, that the value of this exercise, in cultivating the powers of the mind, really consists. But our present business is with the acquisition of knowledge by its means; and we have to observe, that in each of the mental operations required for the answer of a single question, the ideas contained in the original sentence have repeatedly to undergo the process of reiteration; by which they are more clearly perceived, and more permanently fixed on the memory, than they otherwise could have been. Hence the value of this exercise, even in those cases where the original sentence has been at the first fully understood. This will appear obvious by tracing the mental operation of the pupil from the beginning, when he has to answer the question.