“MAN IN HIS TIME PLAYS MANY PARTS.”

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume XIV, Issue 612, 14 September 1868, Page 3

“MAN IN HIS TIME PLAYS MANY PARTS.”

A Lecture, delivered on the 2Sth August, before the Napier Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Society, by Mr J. Staeles, Vice-President. [concluded.] The part of the subject winch I now enter upon is not one to be thought of without a feeling of the gravest responsibility. It is not one to be passed over with a dramatic touch. It is one which has long occupied, and at the present time does occupy, the most earnest consideration of the ablest men in every rank and profession. And if, in the following observations and references, the all-important nature of the theme may seem to be lost sight of in an attempt at racincss, believe me it will only bo done for the purpose of relieving the dulness of what is usually deemed a very dry subject; for I give utterance to deep-seated convictions, —convictions formed not only from long consideration of the opinions of able writers, but from personal experience and observation—a professional experience (1 state it without any aliVctatiou on my own part) of some fifteen years. But, once more, do not be alarmed; Ido not intend to treat you to a theory of practical education. 1 started with the object of pointing out defects, and to that lino I adhere. I have no pretensions now (o be the architect; yet it will not be denied that in practical life the architect has often been indebted to the builder’s criticism in the detection of faults in the general plan. Having previously come to the conclusion that tho ladies arc our masters, it is no more than justice that they should now claim the first share < f our attention. Tho general complaint at the present day is that (lie education of girls studies too much effect instead of reality. With how much justice the complaint is made I leave it to your observation and experience to determine. Every boy who is acquainted with his i J hn?di us, or girl who knows her C'hanibaud, ivtneinbers the fable of a certain animal who clothed himself with tinskin of a lion. Hoar how it has been translated into English by one of the ablest thinkers of modern times :—“ There is - such a thing as young persons endeavouring to persuade themselves and endeavouring to persuade others that they know about things when they do not know more than the outside skin of them.” Again;—“A girl,” says Mr Eawcett, “ usually spends her time not in learning music, but in acquiring dexterity in playing upon the piano ; net in studying language, but in acquiring conversational fluency .. . The ordinary school lessons seem to be given not to cultivate the understanding, but the memory.” I conclude the short reference to this part of the subject with one more extract. And in proof of the statement which 1 formerly advanced, that the tendencies of society, in so far as they are the result of detective education, are the growth, not of years, but of generations, J may mention that the extract was written upwards of forty years bv a well-known philosopher, the father, too, of a family of daughters;—"‘Well, 5 ” exclaimed a young lady just returned from school, ‘my education is at last finished ; indeed it would be hard if, after four years of hard application, anything were left incomplete. Let me see ; as to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if possible, with more fluency than English. My drawings are universaliv admired eo,'>acially the water colours and flowers, which are beautiful certainly. Music I have learned till I am perfectly sick of it; but now that we have a grand piano it will be delightful to play when we have company. And then there are my Italian song's, V.i ilCii every uuuy aIiOWS I slug With taste, and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad that I can. And then my dancing and waltzing, in which our master himself owned he could taae me no farther. Just the figure for it, certainly it would be unpardonable if I did not excel. As to common things—geography, grammar, history, astronomy—thanK my stars I have got through them ail; so that I may consider myself not only thoroughly accomplished, but also tboroughiy welt informed. Well to be sure! bow much I have fagged through ! the only wonder is how one head can contain it all.’ ”

The defects above alluded to, many of them at least, may with equal justice be charged against the system of training pursued in the education of boys. These defects have of late years aroused the attention, not only of thinking men, but have engaged the most earnest consideration of the legi-lature of England. You was appointed some years ago by the British Papli iment to inquire into the general conducting of public educational establishments, with a view to pointing out the deficiencies most loudly complained of, and of suggesting remedies for their improvement. The deficiencies pointed out are many in number and of very serious import. But they may be generally classified into two. The public education of boys is censured as being either too classical or too commercial. In some public schools it is asserted that the scholars are taught nothing but Latin and Greek, and to imitate in not very elegant verse the writings of ancient writers in those languages. In others, again, it is asserted that the leading defects are, that everything is sacrificed to the practical. Nothing is studied except what tends to the practical business of life. The elevating, the ennobling, the humanising part (for well did our forefathers name the study of the classics the “ Humanities ”) is entirely made to give place to the commercial part—which in plain English means that boys are taught nothing except those branches which are essentials of the art of making money—-the Broxiriesenschaften of the German, which Hamilton quaintly translates the “Bread and Butter Sciences of Education.” I shall nut tax your patience by entering 1 more particularly into this part of the sub ! ject than by a few short references to the opinions of the commissioners and other leading men upon the matter. One writer! asserts that that the education acquired by boys at our public schools consists of some conversational knowledge of Latin, Greek, and one or two modern languages; a strong class feeling, and a thorough knowledge of cricket. Boys, again, arc said to be sent up for scholarships, or seek 1 üblic employment, who are deeply read in their VLgil and Horace, Tachus and Cicero ; and can do great credit to themselves by the excellence of their Greek hexameters, who are yet entirely ignorant of such mystical terms as the Kulo of Three, ami to whom the very name of English grammar is an abomination or something altogether| too vulgar to mention. On the oilier hand| it cannot be denied that utilitarianism is I the predominant feature in by far the greater number of educational establish monts. In this ago of free racing fori wealth it is almost a mutter of impossibility to avoid it. And that is the shoal to which in the colonies we are drifting must bo ap parent to any one who will take the trouble 1 to give the least attention to the subject Ah, sir, the public teacher is rarely asked to see to the mental development of his pupil, to cultivate and ditect his reasoning faculties, to encourage him onwards in the acquisition of Lets as to the evidences ol knowledge, and to teach his mind to form a correct estimate of the value of those evidences. But he is invariably asked to teach him something that will be useful to him in after life ; those branches which he will require in the pursuit of his calling, whatever that may be. Such imlivLuals forget find the best tempered implement is comparatively useless in the hands of the unskilful workman. It is quite true that a man may saw wood without being abLto reason as to the rules for the various parts of the operation ; but what 1 mean to assert is that a man who can so reason on the principles and rules will saw woort much better. “Who,” says John Stuart Hill, “ would not wish to know why a pump raises water ? why a lever raises a heavy weight P why it is hot at the tropics aud cold at the poles? why the moon is sometimes dark and sometimes bright? Do wo not feel that ho who is totally ignorant of these things, let him be ever so skilled in a particular profession, is not an educated man, but an ignoramus.” Again —“lt is most important to understand the value of instruction as a (raining and disciplining process to lit the intellect for the proper work of a human being

Facts and rules are merely the materials ol our knowledge ; tfie mind is the instrument It is much easier to acquire facts and rules than to judge accurately what they prove.” Surely, then, we cannot over-estimate the importance of the cultivation of the mind, the preparation which is to be employed upon them. To supply facts and rules is a most impoitant, nay, a most essential department of our work ; but to train the mind to make a proper use of them is a far higher, and still more important work. And this latter is really what ranks us as a profession. It is a truth which must be patent to all that the mind, both in young and old, seeks relaxation—seeks excitement, if you will—in something apart from the ordinary routine! of labor. In other words, it is a necessity | of our natural constitution to seek plea-j sure, and if wo are unable to find it,' either from defective training in youth or led on by the whirl of vanity and frivolityseek it in the sensational. And this conclusion leads back again to the principle at first enunciated, that the evil tendencies of modern society are, so far as untoward influence goes, to be sought for in defective education. Far be it from me to undervalue the part of school instruction. On the contrary, I hold that the grand end and aim of all instruction is to fit the youth for the business of life. “ It was certainly not the object of Demosthenes to make the Athenians cry out, : What a magnificent orator,’ but to make them cry out, 1 Let us march against Philip. 1 ” But it is unreasonable to suppose for a moment that

1 the theoretical and practical are in anj degree antagonistic in the work of the education of the young. Kay. so closely are they allied that it can only be an unthinking individual who could imagine the possibility of their separation. And he is not only a most unskilful, but a most injurious workman—one, I should gay, altogether unqualified fof Ins duty, who, in information regarding the materials, docs not at the same time teach the method ol making a skilful use of them ; who does not make the communication of the facts and rules of knowledge the means ol training the mind to use them correctly and profitably. This is a subject which concerns the settlers of New Zealand closely—is, indeed, in a measure, knocking at your doors. It is pleasing to think that our public men are turning their attention in this direction. But something more must be done than merely speaking about or getting up reports upon the subject. Look around you: the boys and girls growing up in your midst are the future fathers and mothers ot New Zealand. You see opening into the full blossom of womanhood those upon whom in s great measure the character of society in the next generation will depend. You see already opening into vigor the minds of your future legislators and magistrates. Surely it is a subject that forces itself home to the most serious considera’ion of every thinking mind. In the matter of supply it will not be denied tha* hitherto in the colonies much more attention lias been paid to the quantity than to the quality of education. It has been said publicly, and with too much truth, that the profession to which I belong has become a refuge for those who are unfit for anything else ; that anyone who can initiate the youthful maul into the mysteries of the process of finding the amount of cer tain sums of money, and if the interest thereon so much the better, thinks himself and is taken by others as a duly qualified public teacher. Never was a more baneful idea prevalent in a community. Would you trust the lives of your children in the hands of an unskilful physician ? And will you trust in the hands of the incompetent what is even of more vital importance—that upon which in a great measure dopmids their future well-being? I am well aware that I lay myself open to criti cistn. I fear it not, because I court it ; and I can with the utmost confidence up peal to the experience of my professional brethren that what we have to complain uf in our intercourse with parents and guardians is not that (hey interfere with us too much, but that the interest displayed in our work aufounts in many instances to indifference, and even to neglect. But I will tax your patience no farther on tins part of the subject. It is one which won hi require a separate lecture to do it even small justice. I shall close with a quotation from one ol’the greatest philosophers ot our day : —“ We know,” sajsSir William Hamilton, “ very few things from simple apprehension. . . . Wo depend for almost all the valuable information (conducive to our menial development) on evidence external to ourselves ; and we arc by our unaided efforts very unsafe hands at estimating the true value of this evi dence. . . Education is properly so called when its aim is to correct this infirmity. . . . Self-activity is the iiidi-pciisiblo condition of mental improvement ; and education is only so when it supplies incitements to tins spontaneous exertion.” Citizens of Napier, settlers of Hawke’s Buy,—lt is such an education which you must supply if you would sec your sons and daughters grow up fitted for the real business of life ; if would see them attain to the perfection of i n an, “the full development of all our facilities, mental, corporeal, intellectual, and moral.” It just occurs to me that I have mixed up the opinions of two eminent thinkers in the above quotation, not having had either of the books beside me, and it is a considerable time since I read them ; yet I believe I am indebted for the quotations both to Sir \\ . Hamilton and John Stuart Hill.

And now, Mr Chairman, in conclusion, permit me a word about the society under whose auspices this meeting is convened. Like our amiable and peace-loving, though a little excitable brethren of the Emerald! Isle, wo have been sadly misunderstood and grievously misrepresented. It has! been asserted that the society in its work' mg militates against the welfare of another educational institusion in the place—l mean the Napier Athenasum—and this is the “ uukindest cut of all.” So far is this from being tho case that in all our extraneous endeavors wo have had constantly before our minds the promotion of that institution, both directly and indirectly. Indeed, the present course of lectures, so tar as they have had a linancial bearing,] have for their object the increase of the funds of the Athenaeum. Again, we have been told that the name of tho Society points it out as partaking too n uch of a |schoolboy character; but “what’s iu a I name ? ” —I need not quote the old trite sajing with which you are all familiar; and as to what is done there the most expressive answer I could give would be *' Come and see.” Reading is an absolutely necessary and a most profitable employment of lime, and study 1 is a far better; but both of these will fall far short of their grand aim unless we have an opportunity of exchanging ideas with cur fellows upon our views regarding the opinions of men, and the principles which guide the progress of society in our day. We have struggled on manfully against many unfavorable influences for a considerable time, and now we have come to the conclusion that it will be better for us to give up, at least for the present, although it is a pity that ia society ot the kind should not be able to imaiutain an existence amongst us. You

have doubtless read with interest the account of the inauguration of the New Zealand Institute at Wellington. A similar Institute, indeed, I believe* a fcranehTf the same Institute, was inaugurated some months ago in Auckland. Why should not there be a Napier branch of the same ? Is there no scientific research—mineral, botar ’V«O \ * —w uv cucOiirugea amongst us ? Is it not desirable that we should have an n Pr»ortun^y opinions upon the literature or politics' the day ? Is it not desirable to encourage the cultivation of taste by stimulating each other, and the young especially, to make themselves acquainted with the writings of our eminent authors in every department of literature ? Surely Napier is not the only place in New Zealand which affords no field for such pursuits. And why should wo not annually have a series of public lectures of a more populaa, interesting, and instinctive character, where we could be cheered with the presence and intelligence of our fair friends? My own humble opinion is that such things can bo done; and I fcf-1 most thoroughly convinced that there is intelligence and public spirit in Napier more than sufficient not only to do them, but to do them well.

It only remains for me now, sir, to announce that this, if lecture it can be called, is the last of the present series. The object of these lectures were well stated by the Pres* .ient ot the Society, Ins Honor the Superintendent, when introducing to you the first lecturer. It was to provide interest iug and instructive entertainment in a manner which in every community has been found to be highly beneficial. As I \ icc-President of the Society, I have to | tender thunks on behalf of the members to ■ the Lord Bishop of Waiapu, Mr Colenso, and Mr Mucinicliael, for having kindly come forward to assist ns in this matter, as well as to his Honor tHo Superintendent for the interest ho lias taken iu forwarding the objects he had in view. And it is a subject of great satisfaction to us to find that their labors have been so well appreciated by the public generally. Whether a successiul effort can be made to get up another series remains to bo seen. Let us hope that many intelligent and liberal:minded amongst us. both young men and tln.se more advanced in life, will not only come forward cheerfully to give public lectures, but inaugurate and carry out successfully the “ Napier Institute.” . Ibese jottings having been throughout intended to bo sugg.-stive, cannot better be wound up than iu the well-known lines ot a living poet; Tell me not, iu ni'mrnful number? " Lite is tint an empty itream t ” loi i tic soul is IU-iul I lint slumbers, And tilings are not whal they teem. Life is real t Life is earnest ! Ami Die grave is mu its emit • “tlu-t then art. to dust returnest,” d as not spoken of luc soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow _ Is "Ur destined end or way; ’ lint to act that each lu-morrow Lind us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Ti tie is fleetin'” • And our hearts, thoughstout and bravo, bull, like imillled drums, are bcatinruueral marches to t.ie grave 3 In t tie World's broad field of battle. In the bivouac of Life, Ee not like dumb driven cattle* Be a hero in the strife i Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant— Let the dead Past bury its dead— Act, —act in (lie living Present, itcait w itUiu, aud Goo o'erhead i Lives of great men alt remind us ii e eau make our lives sublime And, departing, leave behind us ' Footprints ou the sands of Time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o’er Life’s solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, bo up and doing, ith a heart for am* fate ; Stilt achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.