Nature and Culture

by Harvey Rice

In most of our colleges and boarding-schools the physical development of the pupil receives but little attention; and consequently he is enfeebled in body if not in mind, and is then sent out into the world to endure its hardships without the physical ability to take care of himself. All this is radically wrong, and calls loudly for reform. An exclusive culture of the mental powers can never produce a strong man or woman. This fact is painfully illustrated in all our large towns and cities. The kind of education, therefore, which attempts to refine our young men and young ladies by giving them an artificial nature too delicate to endure soiled hands will never do. The coarse as well as the fine work of practical life must be done by somebody. Though some may be too proud, none are too good to work, however elevated may be their social position. There is really nothing in our daily routine of duty—in the coarse work of the world—from which an enlightened mind should shrink.

It is to be hoped the time will soon come when all our public schools, colleges, and universities will have their workshops and gardens, affording the necessary facilities for instructing our youth, male and female, in some industrial art or trade, as well as in books, and thus give them a relish for labor, and the physical ability to endure it.

If such a method were adopted, the women of our country would soon become practically fitted to compete with the men in many, if not all, the channels of a business life. If it be true that the women have been deprived of their rights, it is certainly not the fault of the men, but a fault of education,—a radical error which should be remedied. If parents will not apply the remedy in the early education of their daughters, then there is no relief. Let a course of education make it as fashionable for a woman to pursue some industrial art or trade as it is to be a lily that neither "toils nor spins," and you would soon see American women not only capable of taking care of themselves, but more generally solicited than they now are to assume the endearing cares of their appropriate sphere.

The true mission of woman is divine. To her belongs the post of honor,—that of a wife and mother,—a position which she prefers to occupy when yielding to the impulses of her nature. In educating her, therefore, this great fact should be kept in view. There is no knowledge she needs more than a correct knowledge of human character. This she can only acquire by coming in contact with the world as it is, in childhood as well as in womanhood; in the public school as well as in the social circle. The old puritanic idea that the sexes must be schooled separately in order to secure them from exposure to moral dangers, seems to me not only erroneous, but absurd. The public school, when made up of both sexes, is in fact an epitome of the world, where its good and its evil are seen, and where the child should be taught to accept the good and reject the evil under the guidance of correct moral principles. It is in a pure home influence, however, that a primary education should begin. Indeed, mothers must take the initiatory step in giving to youthful impulse the right direction.

"Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined."

But in order to appreciate the full import of their duties and responsibilities, mothers themselves must first be properly educated. Where, then, is this all-important work to be commenced? Where can it be commenced, except in our common schools? It is in the common schools only that the masses can be educated. It is to the common schools only that we can look for the proper education of the future fathers and mothers of the land, and for the correction of popular errors. It is to this class of schools, more than to any other, that we must look for our future patriots and scholars, statesmen and philosophers, and last, not least, for our future school-teachers.

The mission of a school-teacher is truly a mission of divine import. It is the school-teacher who moulds the youthful mind, and converts it into a casket of gems; it is the school-teacher who gives direction to budding thought, and awakens in the soul of youth the slumbering fires of genius,—in short, it is the school-teacher who lays the broad foundations of the Republic, and hews the pillars that sustain our civil and religious institutions. The school-teacher should therefore possess the qualifications of a master-builder, be able to plan his work, and execute it with tact, taste, and judgment. He should not only govern himself, but should be able to govern his pupils without seeming to govern. In a word, he should be a model character, and regard his profession as one of honor, and honor his profession by elevating it to the dignity of a learned profession. He should remember that he is placed in a position which gives him a vast influence,—an influence broad as the ocean of time; an influence which should be pure in its character, and as refreshing to the growth of the inner life as the dews of heaven to the unfolding flowers.

There is no means, perhaps, more efficient in promoting the success of a professional teacher than the instruction to be derived from institutes, or normal schools, in which the art of teaching is made a specialty. This class of schools should be made a part of our school system. At least every Congressional district, if not every county, should have its normal school. It is only in this way that our public schools can be supplied with accomplished teachers, and be made worthy of being called the "people's colleges."

But the truth is, the masses are not as yet more than half awake to their real interests. In the cause of popular education the wonder is that educators have done so much, and legislators so little. The true educator is a philanthropist. He sees and feels that public sentiment needs to be enlightened and liberalized before it will yield its sanction to such a system of public schools as ought to be established.