THE

CONGREGATIONAL MAGAZINE.

AUGUST, 1842.

ADDRESS

DELIVERED AT THE

PROTESTANT DISSENTERS' GRAMMAR-SCHOOL, MILL HILL,

ON THE PUBLIC DAY, JUNE 22, 1842,

BY THE REV. T. BINNEY.

ALTHOUGH no systematic provision has been made by the British government for the universal education of the people, there is, perhaps, no country in which so large an amount of property has been devoted to this object by individual beneficence. The estates left to the English public for educational purposes, would, it is believed, if properly managed, yield an annual revenue of £400,000. The amount actually realised falls far short of this; and its utility is further impaired by the conditions and restrictions under which it is applied.* The great public schools are confined to the children of the higher classes; many of the grammar-schools are grammar-schools, and nothing else; they remain what they were on the day of their endowment, though a new world has risen around them, with new pursuits and multiplied demands. Besides this, all these public or local schools are associated and indentified with a certain system of religious instruction, and certain established religious institutions, to which many of the people, whether right or wrong, conscientiously object. It might also be added, that these same persons think, that in most of these national seminaries, whatever may be the profession, there is, in fact, but little religious instruction at all; and that great moral dangers infest them, from the sort of society to which, in some of them, residence would lead.

*See Encyclopædia Britannica, p. 529, vol. 21, last edition.

On these accounts, the existence of an institution like this-THE PROTESTANT DISSENTERS' GRAMMAR-SCHOOL-must appear, to any who consider the matter, neither surprising nor superfluous. Its aim is, to provide for the sons of Dissenters the higher forms of a liberal education, while the course of instruction, including the continental languages, the elements of science, and whatever is necessary for commercial purposes, is adapted to meet the wants of modern society, and to prepare and capacitate for those practical pursuits, to which the after-life of the great majority of the pupils must be given. Connected with this, an essential and prominent part of the design is, to watch over, and conduct the religious education of the boys with especial care-80 to inculcate the truths which the Scriptures reveal, and so to cultivate the habits which Christianity requires, as to make this part of the discipline a serious reality, and not merely a profession and a name.

To the friends and supporters of this institution, I have been requested by the committee, to address a few observations this day. In proceeding to discharge the duty I have undertaken, I feel myself encompassed by many difficulties. I am partly perplexed by the multitude of topics on which I might touch. To advert to all, or even to most of them, would be impossible if it were proper, and improper if it were possible; but the task of selection is not easy. Partly, also, I feel the necessarily mixed character of the audience-mixed as to sex, age, taste, and attainment. I shall be as unable to interest and gratify all classes, as to introduce and dilate upon all topics. I will do, however, the best I can. I will not detain you by professions of incompetency,—that, I fear, will soon be discovered without my declaring it; nor will I waste time and words by requesting the exercise of your candour and indulgence, for, without my request, I am sure I shall have it. I may, perhaps, have erred, in suffering myself to be placed where I now stand; but, if I have, I can only say, that the error originated in a feeling of high personal respect for the treasurer, the secretary, and the members of the committee of this institution-in deep interest for the success and prosperity of the institution itself—and in a sincere desire to add, if possible, something, however small, to your instruction and pleasure this day. An error so originating, I cannot but think, will not be visited very severely.

II.

I am strongly of opinion, that great advantages may be secured by a course of education in a public school, if properly constituted and vigorously controlled. Whatever may be the benefits of home-education, it is, as a practical thing, with the majority of persons, out of the question. To be liberal and efficient, it requires, not only that the parents should be rich, but, what is much rarer, that they should have enjoyed a thorough education themselves-should have improved this

-should be interested in the intellectual training of children, and should thus be capable both of judging of the fitness, and seeing to the fidelity of those whom they employ, and of co-operating with them in the conversation and intercourse of domestic life. There may be great evils in great schools; vicious and corrupting boys may be there; there, the timid may be disheartened, and the weak oppressed. But it is also true, that vice and immorality may be learned anywhere; the innocence of those who are shielded by private and parental vigilance, is sometimes, alas! only apparent, and, sometimes, it springs so much more from the absence of temptation than the love of virtue, that they fall in their first onset with life. Preparation for the world-the real, rough, levelling world, into which boys must pass when they become men, cannot certainly be acquired at home so well as where great numbers are thrown together, and the condition and duties of society anticipated. A large school is a little world; and the education that may be got by the influence and collision of its members with each other, may be as important as any lesson that masters can teach. To many a boy, contact, comparison, and contest with his fellows, in the class and in the play-ground-in serious effort and social intercourse, is of the highest advantage. It discovers to some their secret resources, teaches them a proper confidence in themselves, and excites to achievements which determine and elevate the character for life. In some, it corrects vanity and conceit-revealing to them what others are and can do, of which they had no conception before. Boyish friendships may test all that is true, and call forth all that is heroic, in human nature, by requiring, at times, boldness, generosity, self-sacrifice. Dangers there must be; for where many meet some will be bad. A boy, however, may resist temptation, as well as succumb to it; he may prevail and conquer, as well as be vanquished. There always will be around him the virtuous to encourage, as well as the infirm or vicious to betray-the brave and honourable, the manly and industrious, as well as the idle. If properly prepared, by good moral training, before he goes, the probability is that he will actually be improved by the trial of his principles, while, if so, it is positively certain that he will be much better fitted for life, than if he had never been tried at all.

In all public schools, much, doubtless, depends on the vigilance and efficiency of the general discipline; on the care that is taken to prevent evils-to discover and correct them if they arise, and to expel the perpetrators if incurable. A school like this, providing for the parental superintendence of the pupils, by a minister of religion, in conjunction with the control and influence of the masters, would seem to be constituted in a manner to inspire the confidence of the public. That confidence, I believe, it at once possesses and deserves. Here, the advantages may be secured of a public education, without the hazards

which sometimes surround it. In comparison with home, too, another feature of the institution presents itself. Most of the middle classes live in towns-many of them in confined and crowded situations; how important for children, instead of residing in such localities, shut out from the pure air and the verdant earth, to be settled here in the very midst of all that is invigorating and beautiful-where there is so much, in the influence and aspect of external nature, to strengthen the frame and purify the heart!

III.

In a grammar-school, whatever else may be included in the course of instruction, Latin and Greek necessarily form an essential part. Very different degrees of importance are attached by different persons to classical studies. Enthusiasts in science constantly harp upon the knowledge of things, and of course disparage what they describe as the study of mere words. Others speak, or appear to speak, as if the knowledge of the dead languages, an accurate acquaintance with all the niceties of construction and quantity, was itself the thing for which man was made! In cases of extreme, opposite opinions, experience will teach us to suspect both. In a world like this, words are often as important as things. Words, in fact, are things, especially to youth. Language, too, has its fixed principles and laws as really as any of the sciences, and the study of it may be as useful, as a means of discipline, as an instrument for the development of the mental powers, as anything whatever that could be used for the purpose. From the constitution of nature, the learning of a language is made a principal part of the first business of all her pupils, and it deserves to be considered, whether it be not a manifest falling in with her plans of education— her theory and practice-to make language the principal study of our early years. We have reason to think we are in the right track, when we seek to lead the mind to the speculative apprehension of the rules and laws of that very thing which it must of necessity acquire and use. The appropriateness of the employment promises well for its healthy and beneficial influence on the faculties.

This might be admitted as a just principle, and yet it might be argued that the general rule following from it would be, for each individual to attend to the grammar of his own tongue. We are far from saying that this should not be done, or that it ever can be neglected without injury or without blame; this, however, we do say, that, let a man's vernacular language be what it may-however original, copious, or complicated-there is something for him beyond its reach in the earnest study of another tongue-a superior power to awaken attention, to excite energy, and to develope the general capacities that are in him; and still farther, that this power is felt in the study of Latin and Greek, to a degree, which it is very difficult, I think, to exaggerate.

It is not possible, on an occasion like this, to illustrate, in any adequate manner, the power of the study of the learned languages, as an instrument of mental development. The memory is, of course, exercised and improved-a faculty this, of far more importance than many imagine, and far more in their own power, as to its condition and qualities, than their sloth and indolence will suffer them to admit. The sort of recollection and possession of the past, which is implied in the exercise of the human memory, is something, we imagine, quite different from what appears like it in the lower animals, and, with the power of speech, not only distinguishes man as a rational intelligence, but makes him what he is in acquisition and attainments, and constitutes him a being to whose improvement in knowledge it is difficult to conceive that any limits can be put. With memory, it is possible that an individual may not be great, but it is not possible to be distinguished without it; and those studies cannot but be important, whose very first effect is, not only to develope and strengthen this faculty, but to make it quick, nimble, and elastic.

Mental differences between man and man spring often from a difference in the state and properties of the memory; but in a still stronger manner do these differences originate, in the power, or the want of it, of fixing the attention-holding it for a long time to one object—and pursuing a train of prolonged thought, until the mind is in possession of distinct ideas, accurately defined, classed, and discriminated. This habit -a habit of the first importance, is greatly promoted by the process of acquiring the learned languages. The pupil cannot advance a step without the most fixed and vigilant attention-so much depends on minute accuracy. A little mistake in observing the syllables of a word, or even sometimes the quantity of a syllable, will change times, modes, and persons, turn the sublime into the ridiculous, make the plain obscure, and the beautiful absurd. The primary and secondary import of words have to be distinguished-their radical force and accidental applications; synonymes are to be investigated-the circumstances distinctly and clearly marked in which they weigh differently and alike. The shades and colours, if I may so speak, of terms and expressions, are diversified and delicate; they may be greatly affected by the peculiarities of a writerhis education or temperament-his country or office-his special purposes or general habits. All these things must be examined and allowed for. As the pupil advances, matters of this sort multiply upon him; he finds a constant and increasing necessity for elaborate attention to catch the exact spirit of a passage, or for continued and careful research to throw light on some obscure allusion, while all along, the everlastingly exacted grammatical analysis compels him to think-to sift and separate-to reason and judge-to distinguish the different, and recognize the identical.

Without farther pursuing these illustrations, we think it must be