VI

THE ARTIFICIAL PRODUCTION OF STUPIDITY IN SCHOOLS

[The following article appeared in the second number of the Popular Science Monthly for June, 1872, apparently reprinted from the London Journal of Psychological Medicine. The name of the writer was not given, but the article itself was widely discust by American teachers. EDITOR.]

It is related of a learned judge, that he once praised a retiring witness in the following words: "You are entitled to great credit, sir. You must have taken infinite pains with yourself. No man could naturally be so stupid."

We cite this well-worn anecdote because it contains, probably the earliest public recognition of the principle which the title of our article is intended to convey. Existing in all ages of the world, in all conditions of life, and described by a copious vocabulary in every language, stupidity is something which it has never been possible to ignore or to forget. The fact of its all-pervading presence, its vitality in the most different climates and scenes, has tended to convince mankind of the necessity of an evil which they have never failed to perceive; and which has served, from time immemorial, as a subject for the lamentation of the wise, and a basis for the calculations of the designing. The lessons of proverbial wisdom, the results of hasty generalization, and the daily experiences of life, all point out, or seem to point out, that stupidity is inseparable from the existence of the human race; and that it must appear, not in every individual, but in many individuals of every community. It follows that the persons in whom the phenomenon is most conspicuously manifested are regarded with something of the compassion which attaches to physical infirmity; and enjoy, in a certain degree, the power of blundering, with the privilege of being exempt from punishment.

We have long entertained a conviction that this passive acquiescence in stupidity, as an ultimate fact of human nature, and this confident expectation of its unmitigated recurrence in each succeeding generation, are founded upon errors of considerable practical importance. By directing attention to causes that are remote, they induce forgetfulness of those which lie at every man's door; and by bringing into prominence the stupidity which is irremediable, they lead us to neglect examination of that which may be prevented.

In truth, the varieties of hebetude are numerous. It must be admitted that some of them are displayed by persons whose intellects are obscured by organic defect, “native and to the manner born," in the nervous apparatus-by continuing deficiency, or excess in the composition or quantity of the circulating fluid; and it is probable that, in many cases of this nature, the scalpel, or the microscope and test-tube, would fail to disclose the cause of the infirmity. Inherited diathesis, or hereditary disease, may doubtless weaken the faculties of the mind, as they evidently weaken the physical powers of the body, and may produce effects varying in degree from idiocy to mere dulness of apprehension. We are far from saying that in these instances stupidity can neither be alleviated by judicious, nor confirmed by improper treatment; but we indicate them as affording a substratum of truth to popular prejudices touching the general invincibility of the state in question, and as giving evidence of its centric rather than eccentric origin.

By leaving this subdivision of the stupid entirely out of consideration, and remarking, by the way, that the word stupidity is misapplied when used to denote the mere absence of brilliant talent, we would call attention to the large class of persons who are dull and obtuse, not by reason of any probable congenital deficiency, nor by an unfair comparison with great wits or geniuses, but by comparison with what the individuals themselves clearly ought to be-with what they would have been had their faculties been developed in the right way. And this comparison is not so difficult as it may appear; for the simple reason that the human capabilities

do not greatly depart, save in exceptional cases, from the standard of mediocrity. Among a score of men taken at random, but approaching to equality in point of conformation, we may observe that physical strength or endurance will vary only within very narrow limits; there being, perhaps, a single athlete, or a single weakling, and a remainder composed of individuals whose powers are not precisely on a level, but nearly so.

Let us suppose, however, that among the twenty men there were a certain number who had been employed from their early years in pursuits calculated to produce muscular vigor and hardihood, and who had observed all rules and precautions likely to insure to such pursuits their most favorable effects. It is certain that, whatever differences might exist among themselves, these men would surpass all their competitors. Bendigo, the champion of the prize-ring, was one of a triple birth, and was the weakliest child of the family in which, by reason of diligent training, he became the strongest man. So universally has this principle been recognized and acted upon, that in every barbarous or half-civilized community, or under all circumstances which give an unquestioned superiority to bodily strength, we may find evidences of special care to foster and increase it. The "games" obligatory upon the little Spartans, the exercises of "gentle youth" during the age of chivalry, the description given by Mr. Catlin of the early training of the American aborigines, are all instances in point; and all show the recognition, under circumstances widely dissimilar, of the principle that the powers of the human organism are bestowed only in possibility to be developed by culture, or to dwindle under neglect.

The state of physiological knowledge permits us to lay it down as an axiom that what is true of one system or apparatus, among those given to man, must also be true mutatis mutandis (the necessary changes being made), of the rest. Without in the least degree failing to perceive the dependence of the higher faculties upon a spiritual nature, we must also. perceive their dependence, during this life, upon the qualities

of their material organs, the nervous centers; and the dependence of these qualities upon the laws which regulate nutrition and cell-growth. We are, therefore, entitled to assume, a priori, that precisely as the methods of the trainer raise the physical powers of his disciples to the highest point attainable by each organism, so analogous methods would raise the intellectual powers in the same manner and degree. The conclusion which must be formed by reasoning is not unsupported by experience; but the masters of the art are few, and the examples of their skill are rare.

In an age of bodily repose, with nearly all locomotion artificial, with money as the principal purveyor, it is not surprizing that men are careless about their physical powers, and think them hardly worth the trouble which their full cultivation would entail. Under circumstances in which strength of arm and fleetness of foot have afforded the chief sources of security, or have opened the most direct paths to renown, there has never been an approach to indifference about the means by which these qualities might be attained. If physical education be now almost wholly neglected, it is because the utility of its results has been diminished by the progress of civilization.

But this age of bodily sloth and weakness is also, it must be remembered, an age of intellectual activity and strength. The wide diffusion of knowledge, the facilities for travel, and the application of philosophy to the comforts and conveniences of life, have increased a thousandfold the value, to each possessor, and to the whole human race, of the perceptive and conceptive faculties of the mind. Every one who observes the facts within his sphere, and reflects upon them, may find the key to some, as yet, unopened door in the temple of Nature, or may excogitate results calculated to increase the happiness of man. The career that offers itself to the intellect surpasses immeasurably all that has ever been offered to the corporeal powers; and it might, therefore, reasonably be expected that intellectual development would be the subject of the same foresight now, which the development of the corporeal powers was wont to call forth in former days. It

might be expected (altho strength and activity of limb are left to come of themselves, under the unaided influence of that playful restlessness of the young which provides against atrophy) that the training of the higher faculties of the mind into due vigor and perfect symmetry would be carefully studied as a science, and diligently practised as an art. It might be expected that the mechanism of observation and of thought, the nature and order of the processes by which, chiefly, wealth and power and fame are to be acquired, would be the subjects of an attention corresponding to the degree in which wealth and power, and fame are prized. It might be expected that every one-the poor man to the extent of his means, and the rich man to the extent of his knowledge—would seek to confirm and strengthen in his offspring the qualities by which the world is ruled.

That the endeavor would not be fruitless, we have abundant evidence. Reasoning from an analogy which can not fail, we find that the human organism scarcely ever approaches, under the influence of casual impressions or spontaneous acts, to anything like the full measure of its powers. The average athlete is but the corporeal perfection of the average man—a perfection the result of labor, and which the common games of youth or pursuits of manhood are insufficient to reproduce or to maintain. The most striking example upon record of the physical predominance of one class of men over all others with whom they came in contact, was furnished by the Roman legionaries, and in the days of the Roman conquests. It may be explained by the system which trained each legionary like a gladiator; and it disappeared as that system was relaxed and abandoned. The citizens of Rome, as such, could possess no natural superiority over, and in some cases not even an equality with, the inhabitants of the countries which they subdued; but the citizens of Rome were trained to the exercises and formed to the discipline of war. Their physical powers were improved to the utmost, and they were inured to every variety of labor, fatigue and hardship. The world has not witnessed a school of mental education upon a method so excellent, or upon a scale so