THE INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION.

The highest conception of an education would include the idea of its being symmetrical; that is, that the psychical and physical should be trained together and in harmony; that the system should be considered and educated as a whole, the brain not being stimulated in its cultivation at the expense of the body, or neglected while the latter is in process of development. If both are educated together, and with due proportion of attention to the laws of development and growth of each, then they will be in the most favorable condition to withstand the effects of the wear and tear which come in the lives of all.

That the courses of education at present pursued in the larger number of our select and common schools, especially those located in cities and large towns, are of this character, will hardly be claimed by persons who study educational systems and processes from a physiological and sanitary point of view.

At five or six years of age, and while for some years the system must be in the formative, growing period of its existence, the child is confined five hours a day on a hard seat or chair, in a room often illy ventilated and irregularly heated. During the larger portion of this time he or she is expected to have the mind occupied in study, or recitation, which is quite equivalent to study. In addition to this, after the child arrives at the age of ten or twelve years, tasks of such extent and difficulty are imposed, that it becomes necessary to study one or two hours during the evening. I think that most persons, with much experience in intellectual occupations, will agree with me, that six hours a day are quite enough for an adult mind to be occupied, with advantage, in study. I am confident it will be found that our most successful clergymen, lawyers, and littÉrateurs, though at times a more protracted period of mental effort may be necessary, yet, as a rule, do not spend a longer period daily in intellectual efforts.

Yet in the education of our little children, we find that both teachers and parents, in their blind ambition to hurry them forward, conspire in imposing tasks of such a character and magnitude as to require longer hours of study than we know to be best for the adult brain.[4]I believe, however, that the largest mischief does not come from the length of time occupied in confinement and study, great as this may be. A still larger defect in the system lies in the multiplicity of the subjects studied and the lack of sufficient individuality in its administration.

In the graded schools children are parcelled out in numbers ranging from forty to sixty in one room, and put under the charge of one teacher. The system is too purely a mechanical one; all must come in, go out, rise up and sit down, study, and recite in very large classes. There is no room or time for individuality in any department of study, and very little in any recitation. Each one goes on with the whole, or he drops out and back, while the half-exhausted teacher has neither time nor opportunity to bestow the little attention and aid which would often be of so much value.

No teacher can do even half justice to any such number of children, and I presume it is not expected he will. His task appears to be to find that in some way or other the pupil seems to be able to recite his lesson, and if not, that he work at it until he does; and if the unfortunate one fails, see that he goes back to a lower class. Now, doubtless, one or two out of every five of these fifty or sixty children will be able to press on with comparative ease and health through all the studies which all are expected to master, but for the other three or four of the five, there exists a large tendency toward confusion of mind and imperfect knowledge, rather than those clear conceptions and definite understanding which tend to give vigor and strength of brain.

In this respect, I believe the educational process of fifty years ago was better than that of to-day. The teacher had a much smaller number of pupils, and, consequently, had better opportunity to study the peculiarities and tendencies of individual minds: he was better able to appreciate their deficiencies and the consequent needs each had. Fewer books were read, and these of such a character as was adapted to strengthen the memory; fewer subjects were studied, and there was time to more thoroughly understand and fully master them. Facts and processes attained were clear and definite, and there were less confused and half-understood lessons and theories, so that, as the mind became more mature, it went out for larger fields and broader pastures of knowledge.

They, doubtless, did not have much information as to the movements of the heavenly bodies, or of the names of insignificant towns, hamlets, or rivers on the eastern or western coast of Africa. They might not be able to define the boundaries of Kamtchatka, nor give the pluperfect of a large number of irregular verbs; but, on the other hand, their brains were clear and active, and possessed a recipient capacity. They were not crammed or confused by the dim memories of a vast multitude of names or facts which, by no possibility, could have any important bearing on their future lives or fortunes.

Knowledge, to be of much practical value to its possessor, must be clear and definite in the mind. When only partially understood or dimly perceived by the mind, it tends rather to confuse and weaken than invigorate; consequently, during the earlier periods of life, study in our schools should be confined to a comparatively few subjects, and there should be opportunity for the teacher to see that the scholar receives such individual attention as will enable him to fully master the allotted tasks. We must ever bear in mind that the grand object in attending school is, physiologically considered, to make the brain vigorous and stable in its operations, and as little liable to instability and irregular action as possible. Any course of training, during this early formative period of life, which tends to crowd the brain or stimulate it to over-activity, must tend to after-weakness and instability.

This leads me to protest against the modern tendency to continually increase the requirements for entering and continuing in the graded schools of our cities. The number of dates and names, relating as they often do to many different subjects of study, and the amount of writing in a short space of time, tend to mental confusion; and while the number of studies is increased, the time for their acquisition must remain unchanged, so that the scholar is hurried on through or dropped by the way. To avoid this latter result, too great and too protracted mental effort is necessary on the part of some children, while in many cases the results are manifested in a state of mental confusion and uncertainty, or a nervous, hysterical condition.

I have in mind at this writing cases which will illustrate my point. One was that of a young lady of ordinary mental endowments, whose parents usually brought her to me for advice as often as every two or three weeks, because she was nervous, and suffered from frequent and protracted headaches. Inquiry elicited the fact that she was obliged to study during the evening until ten or eleven o’clock to accomplish the tasks which were assigned to her class. It was thought by the parents that this practice was all right, that it evinced faithfulness and ambition, and it was with much difficulty that I could convince either her or her parents that her ill-health was due to the constant violation of the laws of health; that her brain and whole nervous system required longer periods of repose and quiet at her age than it would be likely to need later; that the future of her whole life as a member of society might, and must, in a large degree, depend, not on the grade of the marks she might receive in her daily recitations, but largely on the nervous and physical strength she might be able to build up before she should become twenty-one years of age. This young lady was of a healthy parentage, and inherited a good physique, and with proper habits of life and study would have had excellent health. As it is, her system will not for years, if ever, recover from the effects of her habits of excessive hours of study.

The name of another patient occurs to me: a young man of good parentage, and apparently inheriting a good constitution. He was ambitious in study, and his parents permitted him to do all he might choose to. He entered college at sixteen, standing among the best scholars of his class, but before the end of the first year, began to be troubled with noises in his head and confusion of mind. He was removed from college, and remained out till the end of the year, but partially kept up his studies at home. He entered the sophomore class but was obliged to leave earlier in the course than before. He tried the junior year with a like result, and from this time exhibited more pronounced indications of mental impairment. He travelled both in this country and in Europe; he consulted some of the most eminent physicians, but all to no purpose; the mischief had been too effectually accomplished. The delicate tissues of the brain had been over-strained, and so impaired that when his parents awoke to the gravity of his condition, it was too late to repair the mischief.

I have under my care at the present time a young girl, thirteen years of age, who has come to me from one of the seminaries for girls in New England. She informs me that the pupils in that institution are required to spend eight or more hours a day in study and recitation, and some portion more of every day in household work, and that she was permitted to study and recite some ten hours a day, as she was behind her class in some of the studies when she entered.

It is not surprising that in less than one year she returned to her home, suffering from headaches, cold feet, nervousness, and inability to sleep, and in a short time became so excitable and incoherent in thought and language, that it became necessary to remove her from home. After a long period of rest with appropriate treatment, she has become so strong that she will soon go into the country, where I have directed that she remain for one or two years without study, in the hope that the nervous system may regain its health under the influence of a life spent largely in the open air.[5]

A young man, standing, so far as was indicated by marks, in the front rank of his class, had strength of brain barely to graduate, and then for years was able to do but little study, and spent his time in a vain search for that health which by judicious habits in study he would never have lost. Many other cases of similar character could be cited if it was necessary to adduce additional confirmation of my views.

I desire, however, not only to call attention to, and greatly emphasize, the effects of study so far as they may manifest themselves on the individuals themselves, but the effects which these persons are certain to transmit to their posterity. The brain may and does, in many cases, so far recover that it may fairly do the work, or a work in life, but it has attained a bias—a twist,—which will be seen to manifest itself in the next generation in something more than a twist; it will be an insane diathesis—a brain constituted in so unstable a manner, that the friction of ordinary life will upset it, ending in insanity.

I have often thought that teachers are only partially to blame, as they are countenanced and encouraged by the parents in this injudicious course of mental stimulation in early life. Especially is this the case if a child happens to be so fortunate—I perhaps should rather say unfortunate—as to have in any measure a higher order of mind than his fellows; he is likely to be the theme of conversation, in relation to his studies, not only in his own home, but with all the cousins, aunts, and neighbors, until finally the child comes to form altogether a false estimate as to the importance of its own attainments and ability. It is quite possible, also, that the freedom of our educational and governmental institutions may serve to help it on. Every child is taught, at home and in school, that all the prizes of life are within his grasp, if he will only make the requisite effort, while every parent is anxious to have his child higher up in the social scale than he is. These conditions not unfrequently serve to stimulate those specially ambitious to over-exertion, while again, there is less of the controlling element, both at home and in social life, than exists under most other forms of government.

It becomes necessary here to refer to the system, so universally prevalent in our colleges, of competition in grades of scholarship. I do this with greater reluctance, knowing very well how fully men of long experience have studied the subject, and how extremely difficult it may be to devise and carry into operation any plan which may prove to be more desirable for all concerned.

In any considerable number of boys, from the ages of fifteen to twenty-two years, there will be some who realize so little the objects and benefits to be obtained through the discipline of study, that they will care little for honors or standards of scholarship, and are in no possible danger of over-exertion to obtain them. With such persons we need not concern ourselves at present.

On the other hand there are those who so fully appreciate the grand advantages resulting from an education, that they would be sure to do a fair amount of labor, and honestly employ their time, under almost any system of management. Now it is from the latter class, that come the students who are to attain to and hold the positions of influence in after-life, and too great care cannot be exercised that their characteristics of mind be judiciously brought into exercise and strength. They are, for the most part, ambitious; and in many cases this ambition stimulates them to the largest effort to carry off the prizes which may come in the way of scholarship during their college course.

These prizes frequently depend on extremely small differences in proficiency which may be obtained, in many cases, over long periods of time. It is understood that it is commonly the case that the differences in scholarship of those who obtain the highest five or six honors in college are often very small, and that these honors may be assigned to one or to another by failure or success on some point, the knowledge concerning which could by no possibility have any influence in after-life, and which must be but an imperfect indication of true scholarship and mental ability; and yet so strong is the power of ambition as to lead some few of the highest minds, in almost every class, to neglect the commonest laws of health in reference to physical exercise and sleep, that they may secure these temporary honors. The brain is stimulated to long and weary hours of study by the effects of tea or coffee, or in some cases by the use of more objectionable substances, when regard for health would require it to be in a state of repose and sleep; and this is during the period of life when it has not yet attained to its full growth, and while its substance is still in a more sensitive and delicate condition, and consequently more likely to be unfavorably affected by such treatment than in the maturity of later life.

From personal observation I am satisfied that some of the brightest minds are essentially ruined for the accomplishment of any large work in life by such a course of conduct in their education, who, under some other course of management, in which these mental tendencies could have been better understood and guided, might have been saved; and that often these are minds with the best natural endowments.

How it is possible that instructors of young persons can suppose that any larger power of intellect, or any greater capacity for usefulness in after-life, can possibly be secured by such treatment, or rather by such abuse of the organ of the mind, or why they have not been more careful to instruct those under their care as to this most important of all subjects to them in their future work, it is not easy to imagine, and can only be accounted for by the supposition that they have not studied the subject carefully enough in its physiological relations.

It should always be borne in mind that excessive use or stimulation of any part or organ of the system can in no sense be considered as education of it, but as a sin against its nature, which will be sure to require retribution. It may be made to accomplish more in a given time, but it must be at a discount on its future activity; there must come a reaction, that is, a condition in which there will be performed less of function than before; and that such a course of treatment has a tendency to produce a condition of instability, and more or less of uncertainty of action.

Within the last twenty years there appears to have come, in some measure, a reaction in reference to exclusive attention to brain discipline, and in favor of more attention to physical exercise during the college curriculum. There have been organized in most of the colleges and academies, boating clubs, base-ball clubs, and other associations with the avowed object of securing a higher state of physical development and education. This has been a step in the right direction, and none too soon have we come to realize the fact that the brain depends very largely upon the health of the body for its exercise of the best thought. The importance of a physical education will be more fully referred to hereafter, but at this stage of the subject it is pertinent to suggest that violent use of the muscles for short periods is generally not the best mode of exercise; that the sudden expenditure of so much nervous force in training and in contests, as is necessary in order to secure the highest attainable power in rapidity, skill, and strength of stroke, during a half or one hour; or to attain the highest skill in throwing a ball, or in receiving it in hand, or in many other of the manoeuvres of base-ball playing, which require such quick changes of position, and violent motion of the body, is in great danger of ultimately defeating the very object for which they are ostensibly practised.

The skill and power may be obtained, and the winning crew or club may have the satisfaction of receiving the welcome plaudits or the crowning laurels bestowed on victors, but how far all this will prove to be of service in securing either strength or health of body, may be a question; or rather it will not be a question at all. In nine out of every ten cases there exists almost a certainty that a larger measure of physical health and capacity of endurance in after-life would have been attained by some other course, or method, attended with less stimulation and expenditure of nerve-force. The period of reaction no less surely comes than in cases of other kinds of stimulation, and is frequently manifested in functional or organic derangements of the heart and other organs. Healthy and continuous muscular power comes more surely by the expenditure of a medium amount of nerve-force, and no other method can properly be considered as physical education.

Lest, however, it may be thought I have placed too much importance in this matter of over-study and nervous exertion, and to show that we Americans are not the only ones at fault, I will here introduce some statements from an English physician[6] of the highest authority.

He says: “The master of a private school informs me that he has proof of the effects of overwork in the fact of boys being withdrawn from the keen competition of a public-school career, which was proving injurious to their health, and sent to him, that they might, in the less ambitious atmosphere of a private school, pick up health and strength again. He refers to instances of boys who had been crammed and much pressed in order that they might enter a certain form or gain a desired exhibition, having reached the goal successfully and then stagnated.” He further says: “Too many hours’ daily study, and the knowledge of an approaching examination, when the system is developing and requiring an abundance of good air and exercise, easily accounts for pale and worn looks, frequent headache, disturbed sleep, nightmare, and nervous fears. When the career of such students does not end in graduating in a lunatic asylum, they lose for years, possibly always, the elasticity and buoyancy of spirits essential to robust health. A strong constitution may be sacrificed to supposed educational necessities.”

“Mr. Burndell Carter,[7] in his ‘Influence of Education and Training in Promoting Diseases of the Nervous System,’ speaks of a large public school in London from which boys of ten to twelve years of age carry home tasks which would occupy them till near midnight, and of which the rules and laws of study are so arranged as to preclude the possibility of sufficient recreation. The teacher in a high school says that the host of subjects in which parents insist on instruction being given to their children is simply preposterous, and disastrous alike to health and to real steady progress in necessary branches of knowledge. The other day I met an examiner in the street with a roll of papers consisting of answers and questions. He deplored the fashion of the day; the number of subjects crammed within a few years of growing life; the character of the questions which were frequently asked, and the requiring a student to master, at the peril of being rejected, scientific theories and crude speculations which they would have to unlearn in a year or two. He sincerely pities the unfortunate students. During the last year or two, the public have been startled by the number of suicides which have occurred on the part of young men preparing for examination at the University of London, and the press has spoken out strongly on the subject. Notwithstanding this, the authorities appear to be disposed to increase instead of diminish the stringency of some of the examinations.”

These statements were made as showing a tendency on the part of the prevalent modes of education in England, to produce in its subjects either insanity or a tendency toward it. I here reproduce them as confirmatory of my own views already expressed, and would especially call attention to the fact that though this influence may fail in producing actual insanity, yet it is of such a character as will tend to develop instability of brain tissue, and in the coming generation the insane diathesis. Parents transmit acquired tendencies toward disease as well as, and indeed I think more frequently than, disease itself.

I must beg, however, not to be misunderstood. I think I appreciate the importance of an education for the development and discipline of the brain as profoundly as any one. I believe the lack of brain discipline for those who are to compete in the midst of such a civilization as that of the present, is one of the greatest misfortunes; but I do desire to protest with much emphasis against the system of indiscriminate cramming toward which the schools appear to be so rapidly drifting. It defeats one of the most important ends to be sought. It tends to confusion and weakness of mind instead of strength. Children have so many subjects to learn about, that they do not have time to fully understand subjects studied. The brain is occupied so many hours daily that its energy is exhausted, and there remains little ability to accurately appreciate, discriminate, or fix the attention.

The same conditions result, as there would from the too long and continuous use of the muscles of the arm, when one is learning to execute a piece of delicate work—the drawing of a picture, or making a work of art. In such a case the importance of only limited periods of application would be readily appreciated; great care would be exercised by the teacher lest the pupil should continue the work too long, or after the muscles had become weary and consequently incapable of accurate work.

We observe the same care in our treatment of the young of domestic animals, and are watchful that they be not over-driven or over-worked while their systems are undeveloped and in the growing period. When one is looking for the best growth, or the highest strength or speed attainable, if judicious, much vigilance will be exercised lest the animal be over-driven or worked many hours a day, until the system is developed and firmly knit together. Shall we be less careful or less wise in our treatment of children?

Surely, there should not be need that I plead for such a course of education as will render the brain stronger and more capable of vigorous work in life, and of transmitting to another generation a sound mental organization, instead of, as is too often the case, a tendency to unstable and irregular action, which will have a final ending in insanity. That this may be the outcome of education there must be changes in the present system, and I plead earnestly that these may relate to at least two things, if no more: first, a larger measure of individuality,—smaller schools and fewer pupils for each teacher, that each may have more special assistance and special training; and, second, a less number of subjects of study. Let there be fewer subjects studied, and let what is studied be more thoroughly mastered. Have fewer half-understood problems and half-remembered lessons, and I believe we shall have more stable brains and stronger intellects in after-life.

INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION.