Observations upon Liberal Education. George Turnbull

all the mysteries of nature, and explain her most secret operations; or by Palamedes, who places it in being able to call every thing into doubt, and to make either side of any question appear equally probable by his eloquence?¹⁰ Hippias having answered in his grave austere way, that he hoped I knew him better than to suspect him of preferring oratory, mathematicks, or any science, however ornamental, or even useful it may be, to virtue; I replied, you can then be in no doubt whether you should hazard your son’s integrity and virtue for a little literature or scholarship.—No, nor for a great deal neither, said he.—Well then, said I, you are certainly resolved not to part with your son till you can find a school where it is possible for the master to look after the manners of his scholars, and he can shew as great effects of his care and skill of forming their minds to virtue, as of their tongues to wrangling and disputation.—I am, said he.—Where lies your difficulty then, replied I? For may not the figures of rhetoric, the measures of verse, the refined subtleties of logic, and every other so much boasted of science be taught at home? Cannot you find a preceptor able to take this part of the task, at least, off your hands, while you yourself are his tutor and guardian with respect to what you acknowledge to be principal? But one thing more I must ask you, Hippias, on this head. What is this sheepishness and softness you are so much afraid of? What is this timorousness you dread so much? May it not be avoided at home? Or why is it, do you think, to be so carefully guarded against? Is it not principally for the sake of virtue, that is, for fear lest such a yielding tame temper should be too susceptible of vitious impressions and influences, and expose the raw novice too easily to be corrupted?—Truly, said he, it must be owned, that the chief use of courage is only for the preservation of virtue. He who cannot resist the assaults of vice, and bad example or persuasion, does not deserve to be called brave. For magnanimity consists in a bold undaunted adherence to truth and right.—You have said well, Hippias, I replied. But if so, it must be very unadvisable to risk a boy’s innocency for the sake of his attaining to confidence, and some little skill of bustling for himself among others, by his conversation with ill-bred and vicious boys.—Now, as for you, Callias, why is it that you are so anxious your sons should acquire a manly air and assurance betimes? Sure it is not merely that they may be sturdy and obstinate.

      CAL. That is far from being my view.

      SOC. And I am persuaded, that as it is not malepertness, so neither is it cunning you would have them learn by wrangling and rooking with play-fellows of various tempers and humours. This certainly, Callias, is not the skill of living well in the world, and of managing, as an honest man should do, his affairs. So far are tricking on the one side, or violence on the other, from having any affinity to those good qualities which make an able or useful member of society, that if your sons should acquire such habits from bad companions, must you not undo them again, or give them up to ruin? Besides, what is so becoming youth as modesty and submission? or how else are they rendered docile and pliable to instruction? Believe me, Callias, conversation, when they come into the world, will add to their assurance, but be too apt to take away from their virtue. And therefore that which requires the greatest care and labour in education, is to work deeply into young minds the principles and habits of probity. With this seasoning they should be so prepared for the world, that it may not easily be rubbed out. If confidence or cunning and dissimulation come once to mix with vice, and support a young man’s miscarriages, is he not only the surer lost?

      CAL. That, Socrates, is undeniable.

      SOC. Must it not then be very preposterous to stock them with confidence, before they are well established in the knowledge and love of virtue? In fine, my friend, either wisdom and virtue are the main thing in the institution of youth, or they are early to be inured to dissimulation and pertness. There is no middle. But if the former be the principal point, youth must be formed, where their manners can be carefully look’d after. Now, let a master’s industry and skill be never so great, it is impossible he should have a hundred, or even the third of that number under his eye any longer than they are in the school together: nor can it be expected, that he should be able to instruct them successfully in any thing but their books; the forming of their minds and manners requiring a constant attention, and particular application to every particular genius and disposition, which is impossible in a numerous flock, and would be wholly in vain (could he have time to study and correct every one’s particular defects and wrong inclinations) when the lad was to be left to himself, or the prevailing infection of his fellows, the greater part of every four and twenty hours. ’Tis virtue, Callias, direct virtue, which is the valuable but the hard part to be aimed at in education; and not a forward pertness, or any little arts of shifting. All other, even good accomplishments, should give place and be postponed to this. This is the solid and substantial good which tutors should not only talk of, but which the labour and art of education should replenish the mind with, and deeply root there: nay never cease inculcating, and fixing by all proper methods, till the young man, having a deep and abiding sense and relish of its excellence, places his strength, his glory, his pleasure in it.¹¹ But tell me, pray, whether a master, with the eyes of Argus, can watch over fifty boys, with all the assiduous vigilance necessary to form and nourish this noble disposition in their minds.

      CAL. You then prefer private education at home: yet we seldom see such make their way so well thro’ the world, as those who have been justled and tossed about in a public school. The contests and collisions of many lads, one against another, wonderfully sharpen and brighten genius.

      SOC. No matter what name you give the education I am pleading for. But I have not yet said, whether I would have lads bred at home by a skilful preceptor, or abroad at some school with a¹² few other condisciples, under an expert good master. All I have hitherto contended for is, that they ought to be educated where the principles and habits of candour, benevolence, temperance and fortitude of mind may be early learned; not the definitions merely, but the habits of them; and where they run no risk of learning waggeries or cheats, and pertness or roughness. And this is as true, as it is, that the former, not the latter, make an able, as well as a good man. And yet, Callias, if you will insist upon the vast benefit of assurance, I am willing to put the whole matter upon this single point. Take a boy from the highest form in Evenus’s numerous school, and one of the same age, bred as he should be in his father’s family, our friend Pointias’s son, for example, who is not yet ten years old, and bring them together into good company, and see which of the two will have the more decent manly carriage, and address himself with the more becoming genteel assurance to strangers. Here, I imagine the school-boy’s confidence will either fail or discredit him, whereas we have often seen the other make a very agreeable charming figure in the company of strangers. But if the confidence and assurance acquired in public schools be such as fits only for the conversation of boys, had he not better be without it? Let me use one argument more with you, Callias. Does that retirement and bashfulness which our daughters are brought up in, make them less knowing or less decent women? Conversation, when they come into the world, soon gives them a becoming assurance: and whatsoever there is beyond that, of assuming and rough, may in men be well spared too. For courage and firmness, as I take it, are very different from boisterousness and rudeness.

      CAL. How then would you have young men able to stand upon their own legs, so as not to be dupes and bubbles when they come into the world, which is so over-run with tricksters and crafty artful knaves of various kinds?

      SOC. How young men should be fitted for conversation, and entered into the world, we shall enquire on some other occasion. A young man, before he leaves the shelter and guard of his father or tutor, should be fortified with resolution, and made acquainted with men to secure his virtue, lest he should be seduced into some ruinous course, before he is sufficiently apprised of the dangers and snares of the world, and has steadiness enough to resist temptation. But what is done in public schools thus to prepare them for the world?—But of this, I say, another time. Now, I would only ask you what you meant by saying education must be either private or public?

      CAL. Is there any difficulty in understanding this? Is there any middle between private and public?

      SOC. Is there no difference, Callias, between a vast extensive garden and a small one;¹³ or between a moderate flock of sheep and a very numerous herd?

      CAL. There is certainly.

      SOC. What do you then say of a few pupils,