A Practical Enquiry into the Philosophy of Education. Gall James
having been hitherto overlooked, that education has been left in the backward state in which we at present find it.
But if, as we have seen, education must bend to the same rigid discipline to which the other sciences have had to submit—and if teaching can be improved only by following the laws which have determined the success of the other arts—the question naturally arises, "What is to be done now for education?"—"Where are we to begin?"—"How are we to proceed?"—"In what manner are the principles of the science to be investigated, so that they shall most extensively promote the success of the art? and how is the art to be cultivated, so that it may, to the fullest extent, be benefited by the science?" To these enquiries we shall in the present chapter direct our attention.
The method of investigating the operations of Nature in the several sciences is very nearly alike in all. For example, in the science of chemistry, as we have formerly noticed, the first object of the philosopher would be to take a comprehensive view of his whole subject, and endeavour to separate the substances in Nature according to their great leading characteristics. He would at once distinguish mineral substances as differing from vegetables;—and vegetable substances as differing from animals;—thus forming three distinct classes of objects, blending with each other, no doubt, but still sufficiently distinct to form what have been called the three kingdoms of Nature. The various objects included under each of these he would again subdivide according to their several properties;—and as he went forward, he would endeavour, by careful examination and experiment, to ascertain, not only their combinations, but also the characteristic properties of their several elements. The chemist, in this method of investigating Nature, almost always proceeds upwards, analytically, advancing from the general to the special, from the aggregate to its parts, endeavouring to ascertain as he proceeds the laws which regulate their composition and decomposition, for the purpose simply of endeavouring to imitate them. By this means alone he expects to perfect the science, and to benefit the arts.
In the science of Botany, Zoology, Anatomy, Physiology, and almost all the others, the same plan has been adopted with invariable success. The subject, whatever it be, is looked upon as a whole, and then separated into its great divisions;—these again, are subdivided into classes; and these again, into orders, genera, species, and varieties, by which means each minute part can be examined by itself in connection with the whole; the memory and the judgment are assisted in their references and application; and order reigns through the whole subject, which otherwise would have been involved in inextricable confusion.
In education, as in the other sciences, Nature is our only sure teacher; and the Educationist, therefore, who desires success, must proceed in the investigation in a similar way. He must first take a comprehensive view of Nature's educational processes; divide them into their several kinds; and subdivide these again when necessary, that each may be viewed alone. He must then ascertain the nature and the object of these processes, and observe the means and the methods employed for accomplishing them, that he may, if possible, be enabled to imitate them. In this way, and in this way alone, he is to perfect the science of education, and benefit the art of teaching.
That this is the best way yet known of proceeding in investigating and improving the science of education, experience has already proved; and that it must theoretically be so, we think can admit of little doubt. The operations of Nature exhibit the soundest philosophy, and the most perfect examples of art. The materials she selects are the most suitable for the purpose; the means she employs are always the most simple and efficient; and her ends are invariably gained at the least expense of material, labour, and time. In the pursuit, therefore, of any object or end similar to that in which we find Nature engaged, man's truest wisdom is to distrust his own speculations, and to learn from her teaching. He should, with a child-like docility, follow her leadings and imitate her operations, both as it respects the materials he is to employ, and the mode and order in which he is to use them. Were an artist to find himself at a loss for the want of an instrument to accomplish some particular purpose, or some new material upon which to operate, or some special, but as yet unknown means for attaining some new and important object—we are warranted by facts to say, that the natural philosopher would be his best instructor. For if he can be directed to some similar operation of Nature, or have pointed out to him some one or more of Nature's pupils—some animal or insect, perhaps—whose labour or object is similar to his own, he will most probably find there, or have suggested to him by their mode of procedure, the very thing he is in search of. By studying their methods of operating, and the means employed by them for accomplishing their end, some principle or device will be exhibited, by the imitation of which his own special object will most readily and most successfully be attained. Every day's experience gives us additional proof of the importance and soundness of this suggestion. For it is a remarkable fact, that there is scarcely a useful mechanical invention to which genius has laid claim—and deservedly laid claim—that has not its prototype somewhere in nature. The same principles, working perhaps in the same manner, have been silently in operation, thousands of years before the inventor was born; but which, from want of observation, or the neglect of its practical application to useful purposes, lay concealed and useless. This culpable neglect in practically applying the works and ways of God as he intended, has carried with it its own punishment; for thousands of the conveniences and arts, which at present smooth and adorn the paths of civilized life, have all along been placed within the reach of intelligent man. If he had but employed his intelligence, as he ought to have done, in searching them out, and had asked himself when he perceived them, "What does this teach me?" the very question would have suggested a use. This accordingly will be found to be the true way of studying nature, and one especial design for which a beneficent Creator has spread out his works for our inspection. In proof, and in illustration of this fact, we may refer to the telescope, which has from the beginning had its type in the human eye;—to the formation of paper, which has been manufactured for thousands of years by the wasp;—to the levers, joints, and pulleys of the human body, of which the mechanist has as yet only made imperfect imitations;—and to the saw of an insignificant insect, (the saw-fly) which has never yet been successfully imitated by man.
In prosecuting our investigations into the science of education, therefore, our business is to study Nature in all the educational processes in which we find her occupied, and of which we shall find there are many;—to observe and collect facts;—to detect principles, and to discover the means employed in carrying them out, and the modes of their working;—to trace effects back to their causes, and then again to follow the effects through their various ramifications, to some ultimate end. These are the things which it is the business of the Educationist to investigate, and to record for the benefit of the teacher and his art.
The duty of the teacher, on the other hand, is to apply to his own purposes, and to turn to use in the prosecution of his objects, those facts discovered by the philosopher in the study of Nature. He should by all means understand the principles upon which Nature works, and the means which she employs for attaining her ends. He ought, as far as circumstances will allow, to arrive at his object by similar means; chusing similar materials, and endeavouring invariably to work upon the same model. By honestly following out such a mode of procedure, he must be successful; for although he can never attain to the perfection of Nature, yet this is obviously the best, if not the only method by which he can ever approximate towards it.
PART II.
ON THE GREAT DESIGN OF NATURE'S TEACHING, AND THE METHODS SHE EMPLOYS IN CARRYING IT ON.
CHAP. I.
A Comprehensive View of the several Educational