The American Missionary — Volume 37, No. 11, November, 1883

by Various

PROF. ALBERT SALISBURY.

It is hard to realize, even when we make the conscious effort, how much of the general culture, intelligence, and power of the American people is due to the habit of reading. That there is not a more marked and easily discernible difference between the intelligence and practical efficiency of the college-bred man and of the man of less training is largely due to the fact that the one reads as widely and continually as the other. Even superficial and omnivorous reading is an efficient source of intelligence and power. So universal is this habit of reading among the native-born people of the Northern States, that it is hard for them to conceive of its absence. It costs us an effort to imagine the mental status of a person who cannot or does not read. Yet there are millions of people in the South who cannot read and millions more who do not. It is one thing to teach a child how to read; it is quite another thing to make him love to read, to give him the habit of reading. And the first has comparatively little value without the other. It is of little moment that a million children have been taught the art of reading if they do not practice it freely.

Now the fact is that of the hundreds of thousands who have been in the freedmen’s schools but a very small part have ever formed the reading habit. And, as one consequence, even college graduates of the colored race have far less general intelligence and intellectual efficiency than white people of much more limited education.

There is nothing singular or unaccountable about this. It is the natural consequence of the circumstances existing. The parents of these young people were slaves, to whom reading was a forbidden art. In their houses, highly as the ability to read may be prized, and earnestly as it may be sought for their children, there are as yet no books, no magazines, no newspapers even. If, indeed, there be any printed thing there, it is almost without exception of the most trashy, crude, and worthless, if not vile and corrupting, sort, from both the literary and the moral point of view. The dime novel, the “Fireside Companion,” the sloshy, ungrammatical local newspaper are, at the best, all that one may hope to find. In cultured homes, children acquire the habit of reading by contagion. It is fairly bred into them. But in the homes of the freedmen there is no contagious example, and there can be none. There is for the colored youth no inheritance of culture in any way. Children in Northern homes take in more of culture through the skin, by unconscious absorption, in the first ten years of life than the freedmen’s children can ever acquire except by long years of schooling.

From the consideration of these facts, two conclusions follow—first, that for the intellectual uplifting of the colored race it is absolutely essential that the reading habit be established in some way; and, second, that it should be the active endeavor of all the missionary schools to devise and employ the best agencies for stimulating and establishing this habit.

Now comes the practical question, What are the instrumentalities by which we can implant and cultivate the love of profitable and elevating reading?

Of course, something may be done in the regular course of instruction. Reading in school may be so taught as to give real culture of taste and appreciation. The sips of good literature found in the reading-books may be so used as to create a desire to drink freely at the fountain-head; though it is to be confessed that many teachers fail lamentably in this direction. The student of history or geography may and should be pushed out of his text-book into the wide field from which text-books are gleaned. Yet all this has much of the flavor of the daily task about it. Can anything be done to make the act of reading more spontaneous, to make it seem more like an indulgence and a recreation than an exaction and a duty?

The answer need not be a negative. It is to be found in reading-rooms, wisely placed and planned. And much stress is to be laid on these qualifications.

The first requisite for a reading-room is accessibility. It must be placed where it can be got at easily and continually. A locked-up library, open only once or twice a week at a stated hour, with the issue of books held under formal regulations is utterly futile as a means of creating the reading habit; it is useful only for those who have the habit already formed. A reading-room must not only be conveniently placed where the pupils can not escape it, as it were, but it must also be open at all times; so that in all the moments of leisure, whether in the hours set apart for labor or those for recreation, there may be the freest access, that even “he that runs” may read a little. It, therefore, becomes almost a necessity in a boarding-school that there be two reading-rooms, one for each sex.

The second requirement for success is that the reading matter be well chosen, selected with regard to the ends in view. It is absurd to suppose that reading matter so stale, dull or obstruse as to have no longer any value among a reading people should be worth sending to a people who have not yet learned to read. Musty libraries of defunct ministers are even more useless in a freedmen’s school than at the North. Discarded Sunday-school books are little better; for in any library the readable books are worn to pieces before the rest are given away. Old files of religious or other newspapers have their uses; but to make a reading-room tempting is not one of them.