A Practical Enquiry into the Philosophy of Education Part 5

When we carefully trace the operation of this principle in common life, it appears that, in fact, the greater portion of our physical comforts depends upon it. "Experience" is but another name for it. We find some substances warmer, softer, harder, or more workable than others, and we apply this knowledge by subst.i.tuting one for another. The savage finds the wigwam more convenient, or more easily come at, than a cave or a crevice in a rock, and he builds a wigwam;--he finds a hut more durable than a wigwam, and he subst.i.tutes a hut;--he at last finds a cottage still more convenient, and he advances in his desires and his abilities by his former experience, and he builds one.--In every advance, however, it is the application of his previous knowledge that increases his comforts, and tends to perpetuate them; and accordingly, as a proper and a general application of the "moral sense," leads directly to national _virtue_; so the proper and general application of this principle of "common sense" goes to promote every kind of personal and family _comfort_, as well as national _prosperity_. Its ramifications pierce through every design and action of industry and genius. It is the exercise of this principle alone which, in the worldly sense, distinguishes the wise man from the fool; and which gives all the superiority which is possessed by a civilized, over a savage community.

It is the chief guardian of our safety, and the parent of every personal and domestic comfort. It is, in short, familiarity with its exercise that imparts confidence to the philosopher, decision to the legislator, dexterity to the artificer, and perfection to the artist. In each case it is the acc.u.mulation of knowledge _put to use_, which makes the distinction between one man and another; and it is by the aggregation of such men that a nation becomes prosperous. It must never therefore be forgotten, that it is not the possession of knowledge, but the use which we make of it, that confers distinction. For no truism is more incontrovertible than this, that knowledge which we cannot or do not use, is really useless.

There is no wonder then that Nature should be at some pains in training her pupils to an exercise on which so much of their happiness and safety depends; and it is of corresponding importance, that we should investigate the means, and the mode by which she usually accomplishes her end. If we can successfully attain this knowledge, we may be enabled to pursue a similar course in the training of the young, and with decided advantage.

When we take any one of the numerous examples of the working of this principle in the adult, and carefully a.n.a.lyze it, we can detect three distinct stages in the operation, before the effect is produced. The _first_ is the knowledge of some useful truth, present to the mind, and at the command of the will;--there is, _secondly_, an inference drawn from that truth, or portion of our knowledge, or the impression of an inference which was formerly drawn from it, and which, as we have seen in the infant, may remain long after the circ.u.mstance from which the lesson was derived has been forgotten;--and there is, _thirdly_, a special application of that inference or impression to our present circ.u.mstances. For example, in the case of the person leaving the house, and suddenly returning to provide himself with an umbrella, there is first the knowledge of a fact, that "the sky is lowering;" then there is an inference drawn from this fact, that "there will most probably be rain;" but the comfort--the whole benefit arising from this knowledge, and from this reasoning upon it,--depends on the third stage of the operation, which is therefore the most important of all, namely, the application of the inference, or lesson, to his present circ.u.mstances. A mere knowledge of the fact that the sky lowered, would have remained a barren and a useless truth in the mind, unless he had proceeded to draw the proper inference from it; and the inference itself, after it was drawn, would have done him no good, but must rather have added to his uneasiness, had he not proceeded to the third step of the operation, and applied the whole to the regulation of his conduct, in providing himself with an umbrella or a cloak.

In like manner, in the supposed case of the mariner expecting a storm, there was first the knowledge of the fact, that the "sky was in a certain state." Now of this knowledge every person on board might have been in possession as well as the master himself, without the slightest benefit accruing to themselves or the ship, unless they had been trained, or enabled to draw the proper inference or lesson from it. The mere possession of the knowledge, therefore, would have been of no advantage. But the practised eye, and the previous experience of the master, enabled him to draw the inference, that "there will be a storm." Even this, however, would not have saved the ship and crew, without the third, and the most important step of all,--the application of that inference or lesson to their present condition. It was that which induced him to give the necessary orders to prepare for the storm, and thus to secure the safety both of the ship and of all on board.

Again, in the case of the infant burning its finger, there appears to be something like a similar process, which we can trace much better than the child itself. The child puts its finger to the flame of the candle, and it feels pain; from which it learns, for the first time, that flame burns. This is the knowledge which it has acquired. But there is also an inference drawn from that knowledge, not by reasoning, but by the operation of the principle under consideration, an inference of which it is probable the child itself at the time is unconscious, but the existence of which is sufficiently proved by its uniform conduct afterwards. By the operation of this principle in the child's mind, before he can reason, he has inferred, that if he shall again touch flame, he will again feel pain. He will very probably forget the particular circ.u.mstance in which his finger was burned, but the inference then drawn,--the impression made upon the mind, and which corresponds to an inference,--still remains, and is made the chief instrument which Nature employs in this most important part of all her valuable educational processes. The child accordingly is found ever after, not only preserving the particular finger that was burned, but all its fingers and members, from a burning candle; and not from a candle only, but from fire and flame of every kind.

This appears to be the natural order of that process of which we are here speaking; and before leaving it, there are two or three circ.u.mstances connected with it, that we ought not to omit noticing, more particularly, because the whole of them appear to hold out additional evidence of the little value which Nature attaches to knowledge for its own sake, and of her decided approval of its acquisition, only, or at least chiefly, when it is reduced to practice.

The first of these circ.u.mstances is, that Nature, in all cases, teaches popularly--not philosophically; that is, she does not refuse to teach one part of a connected series of phenomena, because the whole is not yet perceived; nor does she neglect the use of the legitimate application of an ascertained truth, because the principle or law by which it acts remains as yet undiscovered. Her object evidently is, the attainment of the most _useful_ part of the knowledge presented to her pupil, and the _practical use_ of that part; leaving the investigation of the other parts to the will or convenience of the person afterwards.

The infant accordingly made use of its knowledge, although it knew nothing about the nature of flame; and the man and the mariner would have done as they did, although they had known nothing at all about the science of meteorology.

The second remark which we would here make is, that Nature, in most cases, appears to put much more value on the inferences, or lessons, drawn from the knowledge we have acquired, than she does upon the knowledge itself. For example, in the case of the infant burning its finger, the circ.u.mstance itself will soon be forgotten; but the inference, or the impression acquired by its means, will remain. And when at any subsequent period it avoids fire or flame, its mind is not so much occupied by the abstract truth that flame will burn, as by the lesson learned from that truth, that it should not meddle with it. This inference it now practically applies to its present situation. That the abstract truth,--the knowledge originally derived from the fact,--is included in the lesson, may be quite true; but what we wish at present more particularly to point out is, that _it is seldom adverted to by the infant_. The inference,--the lesson which the truth suggested,--is all that the child thought of. That alone is the fabric which Nature has been employed in rearing; and the original truth has been used merely as scaffolding for the purpose. The edifice itself, accordingly, having been completed, the scaffolding is allowed to fall, as having answered its design.

The same conclusion may be come to, by attending to the circ.u.mstances connected with the operation of the principle in adults.--The person who returned for his great-coat or umbrella after having drawn the inference from the appearance of the sky, thought only of the coming shower; and we could easily suppose a case, where the original indication of the sky might be totally forgotten, while the full impression that it would rain might still continue. In like manner, the mariner, in the bustle of preparation, thinks only of the dreaded storm, while the original circ.u.mstance,--the knowledge from which the inference was drawn,--is now unheeded, or entirely forgotten.

The other circ.u.mstance to which we would here solicit attention, as proving the same thing, is one to which we formerly alluded. It is the remarkable fact, that knowledge, of whatever kind, when it is practised, becomes more and more familiar and useful; while that which is not acted upon, is soon blotted from the memory and lost. Writing, arithmetic, and spelling, not to speak of grammar, geography, and history, when not exercised in after life, are frequently found of no avail, even at times when they are specially required.--Why is this? They were once known.

The knowledge was communicated at a time when the mind and memory were best fitted for receiving and retaining them. But Nature in this, as in every other instance, has been true to herself; and the knowledge which is not used has been blighted, and at last removed from the memory and lost.

From all these circ.u.mstances taken together, we are led to conclude, that Nature never conveys knowledge without intending it to be used;--that by a principle in our const.i.tution, which we have denominated "common sense," Nature prompts even infants to employ their knowledge for their own special benefit;--that this principle continues invariably to act, till it is a.s.sisted or superseded by reason;--and that the process consists in drawing inferences, or lessons, from known facts, and in practically applying them to present circ.u.mstances. All which points the Educationist directly to the conclusion, that the communication of knowledge is one of the _means_, but not the _end_, of education;--that the lessons derived from the knowledge communicated, are infinitely more valuable than the knowledge itself;--and that the great design of education is, and ought to be, to train the young to know how to use, and to put to use, not only the knowledge communicated at school, but all the knowledge which they may acquire in their future journey through life.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Note F.

CHAP. X.

_On Nature's Method of applying Knowledge by means of the Moral Sense, or Conscience._

Nature enables her pupils to apply knowledge by means of the moral sense, or conscience, as well as by the animal, or common sense. There is however this great difference in the manner in which they operate,--that whereas every infringement of the natural or physical laws which regulate the application of knowledge by what we have called the common sense, is invariably followed by its proper punishment,--the consequences of infringing the laws which regulate the moral sense, are neither so immediate, nor at the time so apparent. The child knows, that by putting his finger to the candle, burning and pain will instantly follow;--but the evil consequences of purloining sweet-meats, or telling a lie to avoid punishment, are not so obvious. Does Nature then put less value on moral integrity, than on worldly prudence? Certainly not. But in the latter case she deals with man more as a physical and intellectual being; and in the former, as a moral, a responsible, and an immortal being. The lower animals to a great extent partic.i.p.ate with us in the benefits arising from attention to the laws which govern physical enjoyments; but they know nothing of a moral sense, which is peculiar to intelligent and accountable creatures. From this we may safely conclude, that the application of knowledge by means of the moral sense, or conscience, is of infinitely more importance to man than the application of his knowledge by the animal, or common sense.

For the purpose of arriving at accurate conclusions on this subject, in reference to education and the application of knowledge, we shall endeavour to investigate a few of the phenomena connected with the moral sense, as these are exhibited in the young and in adults; and shall, in doing so, attempt to trace the laws by which these phenomena are severally guided.

1. The first thing we would here remark, is, that the operations of the moral sense appear to be resolvable into two cla.s.ses, which may be termed its _legislative_ and its _executive_ powers. When conscience leads us merely to judge and to decide upon the character of a feeling or an action, whether good or evil, it acts in its _legislative_ capacity; but when it reproves and punishes, or approves and rewards, for actions done, it acts in its _executive_ capacity. These two departments of the moral sense seem quite distinct in their nature and operations; and, as we shall immediately see, they not only exist separately, but they sometimes act independently of each other.

2. Another circ.u.mstance connected with conscience is, that her _legislative_ powers do not develope themselves, nor appear to act, till the reasoning powers of the person begin to expand. Then, and then only does the pupil of Nature, who has not had the benefit of previous moral instruction, begin to decide on the merit or demerit of actions.

Infants, and children who are left without instruction, appear to have no distinct perception that certain actions are right, and others wrong.

In infancy, we frequently perceive the most rebellious outbreakings of ungoverned pa.s.sion, with tearing, and scratching, and beating the parent, without any indication of compunction, either at the time, or after it has taken place. Even in children of more advanced years, while they remain without moral instruction, and before the reasoning powers are developed, the injuries which they occasion to each other, or which they inflict upon the old, the decrepit, or the helpless, are matters of unmingled glee and gratification, without the slightest sign of conscience interfering to prevent them, or of giving them any uneasiness after the mischief is done. Instead of sorrow, such children are found invariably delighted with the recollection of their tricks; and never fail to recapitulate them to their companions afterwards, with triumph and satisfaction.--But it is not so with the adult. As soon as the reasoning powers are developed, the legislative functions of conscience begin to act, enabling and impelling the person to decide at once on actions, whether they are right or wrong, good or evil. Such a person, therefore, could not strike nor abuse his parents, without knowing that he was doing wrong; nor could he tantalize or injure the aged or the helpless, without conscience putting him upon his guard, as well as reproving and punishing the crime by compunctious feelings after it was committed.

From this we perceive, that the legislative powers of conscience are usually dormant in the child, and do not, when left to Nature, act till the reasoning powers have exhibited themselves; from which we are led to conclude, that it is by an _early education_,--by _moral instruction_ alone,--that the young are to be guarded against crime, and prepared and furnished to good works.

3. This leads us to observe another remarkable circ.u.mstance, corroborative also of the above remark, which is, that although the legislative powers of conscience are but very imperfectly, if at all developed in children, yet the _executive_ powers are never absent, where moral instruction has previously been communicated.--A child of very tender years, and even an infant, may be taught, that certain actions are good and should be performed, while others are evil and must be avoided. This is matter of daily experience; and a little attention to the subject will shew, that moral instruction in the case of the young, acts the same part that the legislative powers of conscience do in the adult. But what we wish at present more particularly to remark is, that whenever such moral instruction has been communicated, Nature at once sanctions it, and is ever ready to use the executive powers of the conscience for the purpose of rendering it effective. When therefore good actions have been pointed out as praiseworthy and deserving of approbation, there is a strong inducement to practise them, and a delightful feeling of satisfaction and self-approval after they have been performed. And when, on the contrary, certain other actions have been denounced as wicked, and which, if indulged in, will be punished either by their parents or by G.o.d, the child feels all the hesitation and fear to commit them, that is observable in similar cases among older persons; and, when committed he experiences the same remorse, and terror, and self-reproach, which in the adult follow the perpetration of an aggravated crime. This is a circ.u.mstance which must be obvious to every reader; and it distinctly intimates, that the G.o.d of Nature intends that the legislative powers of conscience should in all cases be _antic.i.p.ated_ by the parent and teacher. The moral instruction or the young is to be the rule; the neglect of it, although in some measure provided for, is to be the exception. The lesson is as plain as a.n.a.logy can teach us, that, while there is written on the heart of man such an outline of the moral law as will leave him without excuse when called to judgment, yet it is not the design of the Creator that, in a matter of such vast importance as the moral perfection of a rational creature, we should trust to that, and, like savages, leave our children to gather information respecting moral good and evil solely from the slowly developed and imperfect dictates of their own nature. The whole phenomena of the natural conscience shew, that although G.o.d secures the operation of the legislative powers of conscience to direct the actions of the man when they are really required, yet he intends that they should be antic.i.p.ated by moral instruction given by the parent. And this is proved by the remarkable fact, that when this instruction is communicated, the executive powers of conscience immediately come into operation, and h.o.m.ologate this instruction, by approving of it, adopting it, and acting upon it.

4. This is still farther obvious from a fourth consideration, which is, that wherever moral instruction has been communicated to the young, the legislative powers of conscience are either altogether superseded, or left dormant.--Every person who in youth has received a regular moral and religious education, and who retains upon his mind the knowledge then communicated, is found through life to act upon _that_ knowledge chiefly, if not entirely. He seldom thinks of the dictates of his natural conscience, and but rarely perceives them. In every decision to which he comes as to what is right or wrong, reference is generally made in his mind, either to the declarations of Scripture, or to the moral instructions which he has formerly received; and upon these he invariably falls back, when any action of a doubtful character is presented for his approval or rejection. From this very remarkable circ.u.mstance, we at once ascertain what are the intentions of Nature.

She very plainly requires the early moral instruction of the young, by those into whose hands she has placed them; because she is here found to encourage and acknowledge this instruction at the expense of her own legislative powers, which not being now required, are allowed to lie idle.

5. Another circ.u.mstance connected with this subject, is the well known fact, that children are found capable of moral instruction long before the time that Nature usually begins to develope the legislative powers of the conscience.--A child, almost as soon as he can be made to know that he has an earthly father, may be taught that he has another Father in heaven; and when he can be induced to feel that a certain line of conduct is necessary to secure the favour of the one, he may also be led to comprehend that certain dispositions and actions will please the other. Now, that a child can be taught and trained to do all this with respect to his parents, is matter of daily experience. As soon as he can understand any thing, and long before he can speak, he may be enabled to distinguish between right and wrong, as well as to do that which is good, and to avoid that which is evil; and in every case of this kind, Nature sanctions the moral instruction communicated, by invariably following it up with the practical operation of the executive powers of conscience, which always approve that which the child thinks is good, and reprove that which he supposes to be wrong. The triumphant gleam of satisfaction which brightens the countenance of a child, and the laughing look and pause for approval when he has done something that he knows to be right, are abundant proofs of the truth of this observation; while his cowering scowl, and fear of reproof or punishment, when he has done that which is wrong, are equal indications of the same thing.

Nature, therefore, that has given the capacity of distinguishing between good and evil when thus communicated, and that invariably approves of the operation, and a.s.sists in it, has most certainly intended that it should be exercised. This consideration, taken in connection with its advantages to the family, to the child, to the future man, and to society, plainly points out the value and the importance of early religious instruction and moral training.

6. Another circ.u.mstance, in connection with the application of knowledge by means of the conscience, should not be overlooked. It is the remarkable fact, that Nature has implanted in the mind of the young a principle, by which they unhesitatingly believe whatever they are told.--A child who has not been abused by frequent deceptions, is a perfect picture of docility. He never for a moment doubts either his parent or his teacher when he tells him what is right and what is wrong.

If he be taught that it is a sin to eat flesh on Fridays, he never questions the truth of it; and if told that he may kill spiders, but should not hurl flies, he may wonder at the difference, but he never doubts the correctness of the statement. This disposition in children is applicable to every kind of instruction offered to them;--but the superior importance of moral, to every other kind of truth, and the beneficial effects of the principle when applied to moral and religious training, shew that it is chiefly designed by Nature for aiding the parent and teacher in this most important part of their labours.

7. Another circ.u.mstance connected with this subject is, that the executive powers of conscience always act according to the belief of the person, and not according to what would have been the dictates of conscience in the exercise of her legislative functions.--This of itself is a sufficient proof of the separate and independent agency of these two principles. The legislative powers, as at first implanted in the heart of man, there is reason to believe, would, if allowed to act freely, never have been in error; and even still, they are generally a witness for the purity of truth;--but the executive powers invariably act, not according to what is really the truth, but according to what the person himself believes to be right or wrong. The child who was told that it was a sin to eat flesh on a Friday, would be reproved by his conscience were he to indulge his appet.i.te by doing so;--and the conscience of the zealous Musselman, which would smite him for indulging in a sip of wine, would commend and reward him by its approval, for indulging in cruelty and injustice to the unbeliever in his faith. The executive functions of conscience then act independently of the legislative, and frequently in opposition to them. There must be a feeling of wrong, before the executive powers will reprove; and there must be a sense of merit, before they will commend;--but a mistake in either case makes no apparent difference. This is another, and a powerful argument for the early moral instruction of the young; and it shews us also, the greater value which Nature puts upon the _application_ and _use_ of knowledge, than upon its possession. She not only encourages this application in all ordinary cases; but here we find her, for the purpose of maintaining the general principle, lending her a.s.sistance in the application and use of the knowledge received, even when the knowledge itself is erroneous, and the application mischievous.

8. Another important circ.u.mstance which is worthy of especial notice, is, that conscience is much more readily acted upon by _examples_, than by _precepts_.--In communicating a knowledge of duty, this principle in Nature has become proverbial; but it is not less true with respect to the executive powers, in approving or reproving that which is right or wrong. It is the prerogative of conscience to excite us to approve or condemn the conduct of others, as well as our own; and this is regulated, not by strict truth, but by our belief at the time, whether that belief be correct or the contrary. Now the precept, "Thou shalt not kill," would be sufficient to make the executive powers of conscience watchful, in deterring the individual from the crime, or in reproving and punishing him if he committed it. But the mere precept would have but little effect in exhibiting to him the full atrocity of the sin, in comparison with an anecdote or a story which detailed its commission.

But even this would not be so powerful as the effect produced by a murder committed in a neighbouring street, and still more were it perpetrated in his own presence. The necessary inference to be drawn from this remarkable fact is, that moral truth is much more effectively taught by example than by precept; and accordingly we find, that at least four-fifths of scripture, which is altogether a moral instrument, consist of narrative, and are given specially, "that the man of G.o.d may be perfect, thoroughly furnished to every good work."

9. Another circ.u.mstance worthy of observation is, that the executive powers of conscience appear to be exceedingly partial when exercised upon actions done by _ourselves_, in comparison of its decisions upon the same actions when they are committed by _others_.--When we ourselves perform a good action, the approval of our conscience is more lively and more extensive, than it would have been had the good action been that of another. On the contrary, it would be more ready to perform its functions, and more powerful in impressing upon our minds the demerit or wickedness of an action committed by another, than if we ourselves had committed it. The reason of this is obviously self-love, which partly overbears the natural operations of this principle. Violence of pa.s.sion and strong desire, when we are tempted to commit a crime, are hostile movements against the dictates of conscience; and they too frequently, by their excess, stifle and drown the still small voice which does speak out, but which, for the moment, is not heard within us.--But nothing of this kind takes place when the crime is committed by others.

We are then much more impartial; and conscience is permitted to utter her voice, and to make her impressions without opposition. This impartial decision on the conduct of others, is found to be a great means of preventing us from the future commission of a similar crime; and this affords us another powerful argument in favour of early instruction and moral training. By attending early to this duty, the mind of the child is made up, and sentence has been p.r.o.nounced on certain acts, before selfishness or the pa.s.sions have had an opportunity of blinding the mind, or silencing the conscience. By proper moral training the pupil is fortified and prepared for combating his evil inclinations when temptations occur; but without this, he will have to encounter sudden temptations at a great disadvantage.

10. Another circ.u.mstance connected with this subject is, that the moral sentiments and feelings above all others, are improved and strengthened by exercise; and are weakened, and often destroyed by disregard or opposition.--Every instance of moral exercise or moral discipline, invigorates the executive powers of conscience, and renders the moral perceptions of the person more acute and tender. Every successful struggle against a temptation, implants in the mind of a child a n.o.ble consciousness of dignity, and confers a large amount of moral strength, and a firmer determination to resist others. In this respect, the good derived from the mere knowledge of a duty and its actual performance is immense. A child who is merely told that a certain action is praiseworthy, is by no means so sensible of the fact, or of its value, as he is after he has actually performed it; and when, on the contrary, he is told that a certain action is wrong, he is no doubt prepared to avoid it; but it is not till he has been tempted to its commission, and has successfully overcome the temptation, that he is fully aware of its enormity. When he has successfully resisted the first temptation, he is much better prepared than any exhortation or warning could make him for resisting and repelling a second;--while every successive victory will give strength to the executive powers of the conscience, and will render future conflicts less hazardous, and resistance more easy. For the same reason, an amiable action frequently performed does not pall by repet.i.tion, but appears more and more amiable, till the doing of it grows into a habit; and the approval of conscience becoming every day more satisfactory, the person will be stimulated to its frequent and regular observance.

But the opposite of this is equally true.--The continued habit of suppressing the voice of conscience will greatly weaken, and will at last destroy its executive powers. When a person knows that a certain action is wrong, and is tempted to commit it,--conscience will speak out, and for the first time at least it will be listened to. But if this warning be neglected, and the sin be committed, the conscience will be proportionally weakened, and the self-will of the individual will acquire additional strength. When the temptation again presents itself, it is with redoubled power, and it meets with less resistance. It will invariably be found in such cases, that the person felt much more difficulty in resisting the admonitions of conscience in the case of the first temptation, than in that of the second; and he will also feel more during the second than he will during the third. Frequent resistance offered to the executive powers of conscience will at last lay them asleep. The beginning of this downward career is always the most difficult; but when once fairly begun, it grows every day more easy, till the habit of sin becomes like a second nature.

11. There is yet another feature in the exhibition of the moral sense in adults, which ought not to be overlooked by the Educationist in his treatment of the young. We here allude to the remarkable fact, that the conscience scarcely ever refers to consequences connected merely with this world and time, but compels the man, in spite of himself, to fear, that his actions will, in some way or other, have an influence upon his happiness or his misery in another world, and through eternity.--The mere uneasiness arising from the fear of detection and punishment by men, is a perfectly different kind of feeling, and never is, and never ought to be, dignified with the name of conscience. It is the consequence of a mere animal calculation of chances;--similar to the feelings which give rise to the cautious prowling of the hungry lion, or the stealthy advances of the timorous fox. But the forebodings, as well as the gnawings of conscience, extend much farther, and strike much deeper, than these superficial and animal sensations. Conscience in man, as long as it is permitted to act freely, has always a reference to G.o.d, to a future judgment, and to eternity, and is but rarely affected by worldly considerations. The valuable lesson to be drawn from this circ.u.mstance obviously is, that the parent and teacher ought, in their moral training of the young, to make use of the same principle. The antic.i.p.ated approbation or displeasure of their earthly parents or teachers, or even the fear of the rod and correction, is not enough.

Children are capable of being restrained by much higher motives, and stimulated to duty by n.o.bler and more generous feelings. The greatness, the holiness, the unwearied goodness, and the omnipresence of their heavenly Father, present to the rational and tender affections of the young, a constantly increasing stimulus to obedience and self-controul;--while the fear of mere physical suffering will be found daily to decrease, and may perhaps in some powerful minds at last altogether disappear. The horse and the dog were intended to be trained in the one way;--but rational and intelligent minds were obviously intended to be trained in the other.

Of these facts, connected as they are with the application of knowledge by means of the moral sense, the Educationist must make use for the perfecting of his science. They are the most valuable, and therefore they ought to form the most important branch of his investigations. All the other parts of Nature's teaching were but means;--this is obviously the great end she designed by using them, and therefore it ought to be his also.

In regard to the practical working of this important part of Nature's educational process, we need only remark here, that the application of the pupil's knowledge connected with the moral sense, is precisely the same in form, as in that connected with the common sense. There is always here first, as in the former case, some fundamental truth, generally derived from Scripture, or founded on some moral maxim, and presented in the form of a precept, a promise, a threatening, or an example;--there is next a lesson or inference drawn from this truth;--and there is, lastly, a practical application of that lesson or inference to present circ.u.mstances.

For the purpose of ill.u.s.trating this, let us suppose that a boy who has been trained in imitation of Nature, is tempted by some unG.o.dly acquaintances to join with them in absenting himself from public worship, and in breaking the Sabbath. The moment that such a temptation is suggested to him, a feeling arises in his mind, which will take something like the following form:--"I ought not to absent myself from public worship;"--"I ought not to break the Sabbath;"--"I ought not to keep bad company." Here are three distinct lessons suited to the occasion, obviously derived from his previous knowledge, and which he has been trained either directly or indirectly to draw from "the only rule of duty," the Bible. When, accordingly, the temptation is farther pressed upon him, and the reasons of his refusal are regularly put into form, they appear in something like the following shape and order:--"I must not absent myself from public worship; for thus it is written, 'Forget not the a.s.sembling of yourselves together;' and, 'Jesus, _as his custom was_, went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day.'"--"I must not profane this holy day; for thus it is written, 'Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,'"--And, "I must not go with these boys; for thus it is written, 'Go not in the way of the unG.o.dly;' and 'Evil communications corrupt good manners.'"

Whoever will investigate the subject closely, will find, that the above is a pretty correct picture of the mental process, wherever temptation is opposed and overcome by means of religious principle;--but it is also worthy of remark, that the form is still nearly the same by whomsoever a temptation is resisted, and whether they do or do not take the Scriptures for their text-book and directory. The only difference in such a case is, that their lessons have been drawn from some _other_ source. For example, another boy exposed to the above temptation might successfully resist it upon the following grounds. He might say, "I must not absent myself from public worship; because I shall then lose the promised reward for taking home the text;"--"I dare not profane the Sabbath; because, if I did, my father would punish me;"--"I will not go with these boys; because I would be ashamed to be seen in their company." In this latter example, we have the same lessons, and the same application, although these lessons have been derived from a more questionable, and a much more variable source. In both cases, however, it is the same operation of Nature, and which we ought always to imitate therefore upon scriptural and solid grounds.

These examples might be multiplied in various forms, and yet they would in every case be found substantially alike. The application of knowledge, whether by the common or the moral sense, is carried forward only in one way, in which the truth, the lesson, and the application, follow each other in natural order, whether they be perceived or not. To this process, therefore, every branch and portion of our knowledge ought to be adapted, as it is obviously the great end designed by Nature in all her previous endeavours. The parent, therefore, or the teacher, who wilfully pa.s.ses over, or but slightly attends to these plain indications, is really betraying his trust, and deeply injuring the future prospects of his immortal charge.

The several circ.u.mstances enumerated in the previous part of this chapter, as connected with the moral sense, are capable of suggesting many important hints for the establishment of education; but there are one or two connected with the subject as a whole, to which we must very shortly allude.

In the first place, from the foregoing facts we are powerfully led to the conclusion, that all kinds of physical good, such as health, strength, beauty, riches, and honours, and even the higher attainments of intellectual sagacity and knowledge, are, in the estimation of Nature, not once to be compared with the very lowest of the moral acquirements. With respect to the former, man shares them, though in a higher degree, with the brute creation;--but _morals_ are altogether peculiar to higher intelligences. To man, in particular, the value of moral discipline is beyond calculation:--For, however much the present ignorance and grossness of men's minds may deceive them in weighing their respective worth, yet it would be easy to shew, that the knowledge and practice of but one additional truth in morals, are of more real value to a child, than a whole lifetime of physical enjoyment. Nature has accordingly implanted in his const.i.tution, a complete system of moral machinery, to a.s.sist the parent in this first and most important part of his duty,--that of guiding his children in the paths of religion and virtue. The executive powers of conscience are always alive and active, stimulating or restraining both young and old, wherever the action proposed partakes of the character of right or wrong. And, even where the parental duties in this respect have been neglected, Nature has, in part, graciously provided a remedy. In all such cases, during the years of advancing manhood, the law is gradually and vividly written upon the heart. Its dictates are generally, no doubt, dimmed and defaced by the natural depravity and recklessness of the sinner; but even then, they are sufficiently legible to leave him without excuse for his neglect of their demands.

The preference which Nature gives to moral acquirements, is demonstrated also by another feature in her different modes of applying knowledge by the common and the moral senses. In the attainment of physical good, Nature leaves men, as she does the lower animals, in a great measure to themselves, under the guardianship of the common sense; but, in respect to actions that are morally good or evil, she deals with them in a much more solemn and dignified manner. A transgression of the laws of the natural or common sense, is, without discrimination and without mercy, visited with present and corresponding punishment; plainly indicating, that with respect to these there is to be no future reckoning;--while the trial and final judgment of moral acts are usually reserved for a future, a more solemn, and a more comprehensive investigation.

Another inference which legitimately arises out of the above considerations, as well as from the facts themselves, is, that religion and morals are really intended to be the chief object of attention in the education of the young. This is a circ.u.mstance so clearly and so frequently pointed out to us, in our observation of Nature's educational processes, that no person, we think, of a philosophic turn of mind, can consistently refuse his a.s.sent to it. The facts are so numerous, and the legitimate inferences to be drawn from them are so plain, that pre-conceived opinions should never induce us either to blink them from fear, or deny them from prejudice. These facts and inferences too, it should be observed, present themselves to our notice in all their own native power and simplicity, invulnerable in their own strength, and, in one sense, altogether independent of revelation. They are, no doubt, efficiently supported in every page of the Christian Record; but, without revelation, they force themselves upon our conviction, and cannot be consistently refuted. We state this fearlessly, from a consideration of numerous facts, to a few of which, selected from among many, we shall, before concluding, very shortly advert.

In the first place, it is obvious to the most cursory observer, that moral attainments and moral greatness are more honoured by Nature, and are, of course, more valuable to man, than the possession of either intellectual or physical good.--Nature has, to the possessor, made virtue its own reward, in that calm consciousness of dignity, self-approval, and peace, which are its natural results; while, even from the mere looker-on, she compels an approval. On the contrary, we find, that the highest intellectual or physical attainments, when coupled with vice, lead directly and invariably to corresponding depths of degradation and misery. No one, we think, can deny this as a general principle; and if it be admitted, the question is settled; for no person acting rationally would seek the _lesser_ good for his child, at the expense of the _greater_.

Another proof of the same fact is, that Nature has provided for the physical and intellectual education of the young, by means of the animal or "common sense;" while morals are, in a great measure, left to the education of the parents. The principle of common sense, as we have seen, begins its operations and discipline in early infancy, and continues to act through life; but the culture of the moral sense,--by far the most important of the two,--is left during infancy and childhood very much to the affections of the natural guardians of the child, and to the results of their education. Hence it is, that while Nature amply provides for the _neglect_ of this duty, by the developement of the legislative powers of conscience towards manhood, they are comparatively feeble, and in ordinary cases are but little thought of or observed, wherever this duty has timeously been attended to. From all these circ.u.mstances we infer, that it is the intention of Nature, that the establishment and culture of religion and morals should in every case form the chief objects of education,--the main business of the family and the school;--an intention which she has pointed out and guarded by valuable rewards on the one hand, and severe penalties on the other.

When the duty is faithfully attended to, Nature lends her powerful a.s.sistance, by the early developement of the executive powers of conscience, and the virtue of the pupil is the appropriate reward to both parties; but, when this is omitted, the growing depravity of the child becomes at once the reproof and the punishment of the parents, for this wilful violation of Nature's designs.

In conclusion, it may be necessary to remark, that from these latter circ.u.mstances, another and a directly opposite inference may be drawn, which we must not allow to pa.s.s without observation.--It may be said, that the very postponement of the legislative powers of conscience till the years of manhood, shews, that religion and morals are not designed to be taught till that period arrive. Now, to this there are two answers.--_First_, if it were correct, it would set aside, and render useless almost all the other indications of Nature on this subject. In accordance with the view taken of the circ.u.mstances as above, these indications are perfectly harmonious and effective; but, in the view of the case which this argument supposes, they are all inconsistent and useless.--But, _secondly_, if this argument proves any thing, it proves too much, and would infer the absurd proposition, that physical and intellectual qualities are superior in value to moral attainments;--a proposition that is contradicted, as we have shewn, by every operation and circ.u.mstance in Nature and providence. It is in direct opposition also to all the unsophisticated feelings of human Nature. No thinking person will venture to affirm, that the beauty of the courtezan, the strength of the robber, or the intelligence and sagacity of the swindler, are more to be honoured than the generous qualities of a Wilberforce or a Howard. And therefore it is, that from a calm and dispa.s.sionate consideration of these facts, and independently altogether of revelation, we cannot see how any impartial philosophic mind can evade the conclusion, that the chief object to be attended to in the education of the young, and to which every thing else should be strictly subservient, is _their regular and early training in religion and morals_.