Education.—Study and Work.
MANY parents entirely misapprehend the wants and capacities of the human system, and often make sad mistakes in educating their children. A farmer will use good judgment in the management of his team, and reverse that judgment in the management of his sons. He knows that it will do to use whip and spur on a slow, plodding horse; and that he would kill his fiery, high-spirited animal if he used him in the same manner. He would laugh at the folly of a man who would put two such horses in a team together, and "tie back" the slow one and whip up the high-spirited one. And yet he will pursue this very course with his children. And this erroneous practice is almost all-prevailing. We will give a few instances, and everybody will recognize the picture; it may be seen anywhere. We were once seated in a car, going from Boston to Portland, beside a gentleman who, when he learned that our home was in Michigan, remarked that we probably thought Zack Chandler one of our ablest men. To this we readily assented. Said he, "I went to school with Zack. There were three brothers; two were bright, apt scholars; the third, Zack, was considered by his father rather dull. He did not think he would be greatly benefited by an education, or acquire it if sent to school. He sent him to an academy for a while, but the others he sent to college. They graduated with honor, and died early; while Zack lived to stand high in the nation." If the two sprightly boys had spent half the term of their college life at farm work, and the other half only at school, they, too, might have lived and risen to eminence; while the temperament of "Zack" would have stood the strain of college training. We knew a family in a town in Rhode Island in which was a very bright boy, who was considered precocious. Always at the head of his classes, his mother looked upon him as one who could stand the head anywhere, and in her fond ambition determined to give him a chance. He was kept in school continually and when he came home a room was always ready for him in which to study. Fires were made when needed, and nothing was permitted to interrupt him. He was not permitted to do a chore of work, nor encouraged to join in the sports of other boys. Every moment spent away from his books was, in her estimation, wasted. After a while, under this constant pressure, his mind gave way suddenly. He returned to his childhood, a helpless, selfish, fretful boy. Everything that was possible had been done to develop his selfishness; now it was the ruling power of his life. He had never been taught to help himself, or to take any manual exercise while it could have been done easily; now nothing could arouse him to make an effort. A musical instrument in the house could no longer be used, and no amusement or recreation could be indulged in by the other members of the household; because it annoyed him to see others enjoy themselves while he was deprived of his means of enjoyment. And thus the years dragged on. Had his study been confined to school hours, and he had his allotted tasks of labor, or other means of physical exercise, he might have lived to be a blessing to himself and others, and perhaps met the fond expectations of his parents. We knew a lad whose mind was inclined to early maturity, but he was of deficient physical development. He was put into a "select school" which had a good reputation. His guardian visited the school, and noticed that his studies were undermining his health. When the attention of the principal was directed to this, he seemed averse to noticing it; he praised the ability of the boy, and predicted that he would make a good scholar if he was "put through." The guardian very prudently took him from the school and put him on a farm with a judicious, conscientious man, who kept him much in the fresh air and sunshine, and gave him daily, but not difficult, tasks to perform. He grew strong, and lived to learn a trade and is as able to support himself as the average of young men. Had he been kept close to his studies he would no doubt have made splendid progress in them, and the minister at his funeral would have spoken of his death as a "mysterious providence," and many would have wondered why God removed so promising a youth from the fields of usefulness. We could multiply instances, but why particularize when they are on every hand? Parents and teachers largely pursue the same unwise course. If there is a bright, sprightly child, of a nervous and sanguine temperament, he is pushed forward in his studies and stimulated with praise; while the plodder, with a phlegmatic temperament, is kept from his books with slight excuses, and discouraged as much as possible by being often reminded that he is a dolt, a blockhead, or perhaps a fool, to whom a book is a useless thing. It is the same folly, of tying back the slow horse and spurring the fast one. Alternate seasons of study and work are better for any child—any person, whether child or adult—than continuous study. Constant study wears out and consumes the bright and sprightly, while it becomes painfully tedious and distasteful to the dull. A proper amount of exercise is necessary to the development of both brain and muscle. Exercise of the muscle without exercise of the brain develops an animal, but not an intelligent one. Exercise of the brain without exercise of the muscle develops a feeble worker; he may for a time be an active thinker, but will never have executive ability to accomplish much. What is the best manner of alternating these seasons of work and study? We find in every part of the country young people who go to school in the winter and work in the summer. Many of them are expected to only work through the summer, and let their books lie unused till the season of school. And when they go to school again it is found that they have forgotten very much of that which they had learned the winter before. This is a waste of time and strength; the result is far from satisfactory. The true method is to work some during the season of study, and study some during the season of work. Then all the powers, both mental and physical, are developed and strengthened together, and become helps to each other. What is learned in the school season is not lost but improved upon in the season devoted especially to labor. And the strength acquired in labor is not frittered away in school time; but in keeping it up by suitable labor the health of the scholar is preserved, and he enters upon the season specially devoted to work in good working condition. So little are some parents aware of these facts that they are strongly opposed to having their children do any work at school. Says a father: "I do not send my children to school to work; I send them to study, and am willing to pay their bills." And when he takes them home it is to work, and not to study, and thus in the minds of the children, work and study are entirely separated, and they scarcely think it possible to engage in business and improve their minds also. We look upon it as one of the desirable features of the Healdsburg College that provision will be made for the students to labor; the young men in agriculture, fruit-raising, or mechanics; the young women in sewing or house-keeping. And they who are abundantly able to pay their bills will do their children an irreparable injury if they do or say anything to prevent them spending some of their time at school in manual labor. We are thankful that the principal of the College is a practical man, who believes in educating the whole person, and building up the students to a high standard, physically, mentally, and morally. There are other considerations urging the same point, which we will notice hereafter. Brother White gives an interesting account in this paper of the school in South Lancaster, Mass. The foundation of this school was carefully laid, and the result of connecting labor with study is highly satisfactory.