Preface

The Education of Henry Adams

by Henry Adams

JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU began his famous Confessions by a vehement
appeal to the Deity: "I have shown myself as I was; contemptible and
vile when I was so; good, generous, sublime when I was so; I have
unveiled my interior such as Thou thyself hast seen it, Eternal
Father! Collect about me the innumerable swarm of my fellows; let
them hear my confessions; let them groan at my unworthiness; let them
blush at my meannesses! Let each of them discover his heart in his
turn at the foot of thy throne with the same sincerity; and then let
any one of them tell thee if he dares: 'I was a better man!' "

Jean Jacques was a very great educator in the manner of the
eighteenth century, and has been commonly thought to have had more
influence than any other teacher of his time; but his peculiar method
of improving human nature has not been universally admired. Most
educators of the nineteenth century have declined to show themselves
before their scholars as objects more vile or contemptible than
necessary, and even the humblest teacher hides, if possible, the
faults with which nature has generously embellished us all, as it did
Jean Jacques, thinking, as most religious minds are apt to do, that
the Eternal Father himself may not feel unmixed pleasure at our
thrusting under his eyes chiefly the least agreeable details of his
creation.

As an unfortunate result the twentieth century finds few recent
guides to avoid, or to follow. American literature offers scarcely
one working model for high education. The student must go back,
beyond Jean Jacques, to Benjamin Franklin, to find a model even of
self-teaching. Except in the abandoned sphere of the dead languages,
no one has discussed what part of education has, in his personal
experience, turned out to be useful, and what not. This volume
attempts to discuss it.

As educator, Jean Jacques was, in one respect, easily first; he
erected a monument of warning against the Ego. Since his time, and
largely thanks to him, the Ego has steadily tended to efface itself,
and, for purposes of model, to become a manikin on which the toilet
of education is to be draped in order to show the fit or misfit of
the clothes. The object of study is the garment, not the figure. The
tailor adapts the manikin as well as the clothes to his patron's
wants. The tailor's object, in this volume, is to fit young men, in
universities or elsewhere, to be men of the world, equipped for any
emergency; and the garment offered to them is meant to show the
faults of the patchwork fitted on their fathers.

At the utmost, the active-minded young man should ask of his
teacher only mastery of his tools. The young man himself, the subject
of education, is a certain form of energy; the object to be gained is
economy of his force; the training is partly the clearing away of
obstacles, partly the direct application of effort. Once acquired,
the tools and models may be thrown away.

The manikin, therefore, has the same value as any other
geometrical figure of three or more dimensions, which is used for the
study of relation. For that purpose it cannot be spared; it is the
only measure of motion, of proportion, of human condition; it must
have the air of reality; must be taken for real; must be treated as
though it had life. Who knows? Possibly it had!

February 16, 1907