Popular Education. Ira Mayhew
fallen far short of this high and only true standard. Education, in too many instances, has been confined, almost entirely, to either the physical, intellectual, or moral energies of men. With the greater part, it has been limited to the physical powers. No effort has been made to develop any but their bodily strength, animal passions, and instinctive feelings. Accordingly, the great mass of mankind are raised but little above inferior animals. They labor hard, and boast of their strength; gratify their passions, and glory in their shame; eat and drink, sleep and wake, supposing to-morrow will be like the present. They are scarcely aware of their rational, intellectual powers, much less of their ever-expanding and never-dying spirits; consequently they feel but imperfectly their responsibility, and are governed principally by the fear of human authority. They have been taught to fear or reverence nothing higher. Their education is confined to animal feeling—physical energies. They have no conception of any thing beyond. The whole intellectual world, and all hereafter, is narrowed down to the animal feeling of the present time. How erroneous! How badly educated! And what are we to anticipate when only the physical energies of men generally are thus developed? Why, surely, what we are beginning to witness—namely, physical power, trampling on all authority.
The education of others is confined principally to intellect. Not that their physical powers are not necessarily more or less developed, but that their attention is directed almost exclusively to intellectual attainments. From the earliest infancy their minds are taxed, though their bodies are neglected, and their souls forgotten. Nor is it unfrequent that their physical strength gives way under the constant pressure of intellectual studies. And thus they are subjected to all the evils of physical inability—the sufferings of living death, in consequence of an erroneous education. Besides, they are destitute of all those kinder feelings and sympathetic emotions which alone result from the cultivation of the moral susceptibilities, and become insensible to the more delicate affections of the soul, and elevating hopes of the truly virtuous. They have nothing on which to rest for enjoyment but intellectual attainments. And even these are small compared with what they might have been under a different course of education. Yet with what delight are the first developments of intellect discovered by the natural guardian of the infant mind! and with what anxious solicitude are they watched through advancing youth and manhood by those employed in their education. In either stage the development of intellect alone seems worthy of an effort. And yet, when carried to the utmost, what may we expect of one destitute of virtue, and without strength of body? Little to benefit himself or others. Like Columbus, Franklin, or La Place, he may employ his intellect in useful discoveries; or, like Hume, Voltaire, and Paine, to curse the world. In either case he may lead astray, and should never be trusted implicitly. As the bark on the ocean without compass or chart, that rides out the storm or sinks to the bottom, he may guide us in safety, or ruin us forever!
The education of others, again, is confined mostly to their moral energies. Those of the body are almost forgotten, only as nature forces their development upon the reluctant soul within. And those of intellect are deemed unworthy of a thought, except as necessary in the rudest stages of society; while the moral susceptibilities are cultivated to the utmost. They are brought into action in every situation. They are employed in private, in the social circle, and around the public altar. Nor are those employing them ever satisfied. They become fanatics—religious enthusiasts. They have zeal without knowledge, and seem resolved on bringing all to their standard. They enlist in the work all the sympathies of the soul—its tenderest sensibilities and most compassionate feelings. Without intellect to guide, and physical strength to sustain them, they sink under moral excitement, and become deranged: a result that might be anticipated from such an education; and one that is often developed, in some of its milder features, among the reformers of the day. Nor may you reason with them. Reckless of consequences and regardless of authority, they are not to be convinced or persuaded. They are right, and know they are right, for the plain reason that they know nothing else, and will not be diverted from their course. What degradation! Who would not shrink from such an education? the development of the moral energies merely? It never qualified men for the highest attainment—the utmost dignity of which they are susceptible.
Diversified as are the developments of human character, and dissimilar as they may appear to the careless observer, there are peculiar characteristics of men that render them similar to one another, and unlike every other being. In their natures, original susceptibilities, and ultimate destinies, they are alike. They are material, intellectual, and spiritual; animal, rational, and immortal. On these uniform traits of character education should be based. It should develop and strengthen the animal functions; classify and improve the rational faculties; and purify and elevate the spiritual affections in harmonious proportion and perfect symmetry.
The animal functions of the human system are to be developed and strengthened by education. Hitherto they have been assigned to the province of nature, and deemed foreign to the objects of education. But a more unphilosophical and dangerous theory has seldom been embraced, as the melancholy results abundantly testify. We shall therefore devote a chapter to physical education, which seems to lie at the foundation of the great work of human improvement; for, as we have seen, in the present state the mind can manifest itself only through the body; after which we shall proceed to the consideration of the other grand divisions of the great work of education.
CHAPTER II.
THE IMPORTANCE OF PHYSICAL EDUCATION.
The influence of the physical frame upon the intellect, morals, and happiness of a human being, is now universally admitted. The extent of this influence will be thought greater in proportion to the accuracy with which the subject is examined. Bodily pain forms a large proportion of the amount of human misery. It is, therefore, of the highest importance that a child should grow up sound and healthy in body, with the utmost degree of muscular strength that education can communicate.—Lalor.
The importance of the department of the great work of education which we now approach has not hitherto been duly appreciated by parents and teachers generally. I shall therefore devote more space to this subject than is usual in works on education, but not more, I trust, than its relative importance demands. Physical, intellectual, and moral education are so intimately connected, that, in order duly to appreciate the importance of either, we must not view it separate and alone merely, but in connection with both of the others. And especially is this true of physical education. However much value, then, we may attach to it on its own account, considering man as a corporeal being, we shall have occasion greatly to magnify its importance when we come to direct our attention to his intellectual culture, and still more when we view it in connection with his moral training. Then, and not till then, shall we be enabled, in some degree, properly to appreciate the importance of physical education.
It has been objected, says Dr. Combe,[1] that to teach any one how to take care of his own health, is sure to do harm, by making him constantly think of this and the other precaution, to the utter sacrifice of every noble and generous feeling, and to the certain production of peevishness and discontent. The result, however, he adds, is exactly the reverse; and it would be a singular anomaly in the constitution of the moral world were it otherwise. He who is instructed in, and is familiar with grammar and orthography, writes and spells so easily and accurately as scarcely to be conscious of attending to the rules by which he is guided; while he, on the contrary, who is not instructed in either, and knows not how to arrange his sentences, toils at the task, and sighs at every line. The same principle holds in regard to health. He who is acquainted with the general constitution of the human body, and with the laws which regulate its action, sees at once his true position when exposed to the causes of disease, decides what ought to be done, and thereafter feels himself at liberty to devote his undivided attention to the calls of higher duties. But it is far otherwise with the person who is destitute of this information.