But if there were (which is far from being the case) a well-defined and well-established science in each of these departments, those sciences would not be understandable by children, nor would any individual have time to master the whole of them, or even “a due proportion of each.” The utmost that could be attempted would be to give young people some knowledge of the results of such sciences and the rules derived from them. But to this Mr. Spencer would object that it would tend, like the learning of languages, “to increase the already undue respect for authority.”
§ 7. To consider Mr. Spencer’s divisions in detail, we come first to knowledge that leads to self-preservation.
“Happily, that all-important part of education which goes to secure direct self-preservation is, in part, already provided for. Too momentous to be left to our blundering, Nature takes it into her own hands.” But Mr. Spencer warns us against such thwartings of Nature as that by which “stupid schoolmistresses commonly prevent the girls in their charge from the spontaneous physical activities they would indulge in, and so render them comparatively incapable of taking care of themselves in circumstances of peril.”
§ 8. Indirect self-preservation, Mr. Spencer believes, may be much assisted by a knowledge of physiology. “Diseases are often contracted, our members are often injured, by causes which superior knowledge would avoid.” I believe these are not the only grounds on which the advocates of physiology urge its claim to be admitted into the curriculum; but these, if they can be established, are no doubt very important. Is it true, however, that doctors preserve their own life and health or that of their children by their knowledge of physiology? I think the matter is open to dispute. Mr. Spencer does not. He says very truly that many a man would blush if convicted of ignorance about the pronunciation of Iphigenia, or about the labours of Hercules who, nevertheless, would not scruple to acknowledge that he had never heard of the Eustachian tubes, and could not tell the normal rate of pulsation. “So terribly,” adds Mr. Spencer, “in our education does the ornamental override the useful!” But this is begging the question. At present classics form part of the instruction given to every gentleman, and physiology does not. This is the simpler form of Mr. Spencer’s assertion about the labours of Hercules and the Eustachian tubes, and no one denies it. But we are not so well agreed on the comparative value of these subjects. In his Address at St. Andrews, J. S. Mill showed that he at least was not convinced of the uselessness of classics, and Mr. Spencer does not tell us how the knowledge of the normal state of pulsation is useful; how, to use his own test, it “influences action.” However, whether we admit the claims of physiology or not, we shall probably allow that there are certain physiological facts and rules of health, the knowledge of which would be of great practical value, and should therefore be imparted to everyone. Here the doctor should come to the schoolmaster’s assistance, and give him a manual from which to teach them.
§ 9. Next in order of importance, according to Mr. Spencer, comes the knowledge which aids indirect self-preservation by facilitating the gaining of a livelihood. Here Mr. Spencer thinks it necessary to prove to us that such sciences as mathematics and physics and biology underlie all the practical arts and business of life. No one would think of joining issue with him on this point; but the question still remains, what influence should this have on education? “Teach science,” says Mr. Spencer. “A grounding in science is of great importance, both because it prepares for all this [business of life], and because rational knowledge has an immense superiority over empirical knowledge.” Should we teach all sciences to everybody? This is clearly impossible. Should we, then, decide for each child what is to be his particular means of money-getting, and instruct him in those sciences which will be most useful in that business or profession? In other words, should we have a separate school for each calling? The only attempt of this kind which has been made is, I believe, the institution of Handelschulen (commercial schools) in Germany. In them, youths of fifteen or sixteen enter for a course of two or three years’ instruction which aims exclusively at fitting them for commerce. But, in this case, their general education is already finished. With us, the lad commonly goes to work at the business itself quite as soon as he has the faculties for learning the sciences connected with it. If the school sends him to it with a love of knowledge, and with a mind well disciplined to acquire knowledge, this will be of more value to him than any special information.
§ 10. As Mr. Spencer is here considering science merely with reference to its importance in earning a livelihood, it is not beside the question to remark, that in a great number of instances, the knowledge of the science which underlies an operation confers no practical ability whatever. No one sees the better for understanding the structure of the eye and the undulatory theory of light. In swimming or rowing, a senior wrangler has no advantage over a man who is entirely ignorant about the laws of fluid pressure. As far as money-getting is concerned then, science will not be found to be universally serviceable. Mr. Spencer gives instances indeed, where science would prevent very expensive blundering; but the true inference is, not that the blunderers should learn science, but that they should mind their own business, and take the opinion of scientific men about theirs. “Here is a mine,” says he, “in the sinking of which many shareholders ruined themselves, from not knowing that a certain fossil belonged to the old red sandstone, below which no coal is found.” Perhaps they were misled by the little knowledge which Pope tells us is a dangerous thing. If they had been entirely ignorant, they would surely have called in a professional geologist, whose opinion would have been more valuable than their own, even though geology had taken the place of classics in their schooling. “Daily are men induced to aid in carrying out inventions which a mere tyro in science could show to be futile.” But these are men whose function it would always be to lose money, not make it, whatever you might teach them.[187] I have great doubt, therefore, whether the learning of sciences will ever be found a ready way of making a fortune. But directly we get beyond the region of pounds, shillings, and pence, I agree most cordially with Mr. Spencer that a rational knowledge has an immense superiority over empirical knowledge. And, as a part of their education, boys should be taught to distinguish the one from the other, and to desire rational knowledge. Much might be done in this way by teaching, not all the sciences and nothing else, but the main principles of some one science, which would enable the more intelligent boys to understand and appreciate the value of “a rational explanation of phenomena.” I believe this addition to what was before a literary education has already been made in some of our leading schools, as Harrow, Rugby, and the City of London.[188]
§ 11. Next, Mr. Spencer would have instruction in the proper way of rearing offspring form a part of his curriculum. There can be no question of the importance of this knowledge, and all that Mr. Spencer says of the lamentable ignorance of parents is, unfortunately, no less undeniable. But could this knowledge be imparted early in life? Young people would naturally take but little interest in it. It is by parents, or at least by those who have some notion of the parental responsibility, that this knowledge should be sought. The best way in which we can teach the young will be so to bring them up that when they themselves have to rear children the remembrance of their own youth may be a guide and not a beacon to them. But more knowledge than this is necessary, and I differ from Mr. Spencer only as to the proper time for acquiring it.
§ 12. Next comes the knowledge which fits a man for the discharge of his functions as a citizen, a subject to which Dr. Arnold attached great importance at the time of the first Reform Bill, and which deserves our attention all the more in consequence of the second and third. But what knowledge are we to give for this purpose? One of the subjects which seem especially suitable is history. But history, as it is now written, is, according to Mr. Spencer, useless. “It does not illustrate the right principles of political action.” “The great mass of historical facts are facts from which no conclusions can be drawn—unorganisable facts, and, therefore, facts of no service in establishing principles of conduct, which is the chief use of facts. Read them if you like for amusement, but do not flatter yourself they are instructive.” About the right principles of political action we seem so completely at sea that, perhaps, the main thing we can do for the young is to point out to them the responsibilities which will hereafter devolve upon them, and the danger, both to the state and the individual, of just echoing the popular cry without the least reflection, according to our present usage. But history, as it is now written by great historians, may be of some use in training the young both to be citizens and men. “Reading about the fifteen decisive battles, or all the battles in history, would not make a man a more judicious voter at the next election,” says Mr. Spencer. But is this true? The knowledge of what has been done in other times, even by those whose coronation renders them so distasteful to Mr. Spencer, is knowledge which influences a man’s whole character, and may, therefore, affect particular acts, even when we are unable to trace the connexion. As it has been often said, the effect of reading history is, in some respects, the same as that of travelling. Anyone in Mr. Spencer’s vein might ask, “If a man has seen the Alps, of what use will that be to him in weighing out groceries?” Directly, none at all; but indirectly, much. The travelled man will not be such a slave to the petty views and customs of his trade as the man who looks on his county town as the centre of the universe. The study of history, like travelling, widens the student’s mental vision, frees him to some extent from the bondage of the present, and prevents his mistaking conventionalities for laws of nature. It brings home to him, in all its force, the truth that “there are also people beyond the mountain” (Hinter dem Berge sind auch Leute), that there are higher interests in the world than his own business concerns, and nobler men than himself or the best of his acquaintance. It teaches him what men are capable of, and thus gives him juster views of his race. And to have all this truth worked into the mind contributes perhaps as largely to “complete living” as knowledge of the Eustachian tubes or of the normal rate of pulsation.[189] I think, therefore, that the works of great historians and biographers, which we already possess, may be usefully employed in education. It is difficult to estimate the value of history according to Mr. Spencer’s idea, as it has yet to be written; but I venture to predict that if boys, instead of reading about the history of nations in connection with their leading men, are required to study only “the progress of society,” the subject will at once lose all its interest for them; and, perhaps, many of the facts communicated will prove, after all, no less unorganisable than the fifteen decisive battles.
§ 13. Lastly, we come to that “remaining division of human life which includes the relaxations and amusements filling leisure hours.” Mr. Spencer assures us that he will yield to none in the value he attaches to æsthetic culture and its pleasures; but if he does not value the fine arts less, he values science more; and painting, music, and poetry would receive as little encouragement under his dictatorship as in the days of the Commonwealth. “As the fine arts and belles-lettres occupy the leisure part of life, so should they occupy the leisure part of education.” This language is rather obscure; but the only meaning I can attach to it is, that music, drawing, poetry, &c., may be taught if time can be found when all other knowledges are provided for. This reminds me of the author whose works are so valuable that they will be studied when Shakspeare is forgotten—but not before. Any one of the sciences which Mr. Spencer considers so necessary might employ a lifetime. Where then shall we look for the leisure part of education when education includes them all?[190]