the necessities of life, which more and more displaces
intellectual activity as a set pursuit, and leaves
it to be manifested rather in the means than the ends,
rather in the quality than in the products of one’s
thinking, and, at the best, rather as an embellishment
than as the business of a career. And yet, in
the mind which has passed through a proper school-training,
there should be apparent certain decided qualities
and results, which are manifested as, and as often
as, opportunity for their exercise presents itself.
The schooled mind should surely not possess a less
active curiosity to observe and to know than did the
same mind before entering school, but even a stronger,
more self-directed, purposive and efficient zeal in
such direction. Intellectual vivacity and point,
clearness of conception, and truthfulness of generalization
and of inference,—all these should appear
in more marked degree, along with the increased sobriety
and judgment, and the improved facility of practical
adaptation, which properly characterize maturity of
mind and habit. Now, we suggest the careful observation
of any number of children, not yet sent to school,
and that are favored with ordinarily sensible parents,
and ordinarily happy homes; and then, the equally
careful study of a like number who have just emerged
from their school course, or have fairly entered on
the business of life; and we warn the really acute
and discriminating observer to look forward (in the
majority of instances) to a disheartening result from
his investigation! We are convinced that the
net product of our immensely expansive, patient, and
ardently sought schooling will, in a large proportion
of all the cases, be found to consist in the imperfect
acquirement and uncertain tenure of knowledge, upon
a few rudimentary branches, often without definite
understanding or habit of applying even so much to
its uses, and usually without the conception or desire
to make it the point of departure for life-long acquisition;
and all this accompanied, too often, with actual loss
of that spontaneous intellectual activity which began
to manifest itself in the child, and which should
have been fruiting now in, at the least, some degree
of sound and true intellectuality. So, we are
still left to expect mainly of Nature not only the
germs of capacity, but the maturing of them; the latter,
a work which Education surely ought to be competent
to. Meanwhile, like a wearied and fretted pedagogue,
Education complains of the bad materials Nature gives
her, when she ought to be questioning whether she
has yet learned to bring out the excellence of the
material she has.


