Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1875 — Educated to Death. [ARTICLE]

Educated to Death.

Cora Lee was that unfortunate kind of a being yclept a child-prodigy. She was the first-born daughter of a wfell-to-do planter, nursed, fondled, petted and incl ulged from babyhood; always kept indoors in winter, clad in the warmest of garments, never allowed to put her bare feet on the ground, or to undergo the least exposure, for fear she would “ take cold.” Her sleeping apartment was, too, air-tight and her food of the daintiest, according to the ideas of people who never hear of hygiene and consider fermented bread, butter and strong tea the simplest of diet. By the time she could talk plainly her little sayings were reported to visitors and quoted by the servants as evidences of her title to paragonship. She developed a fondness for reading when very young and, being encouraged in it, spent the greater part of the time that should have been given to outdoor .sports and invigorating exercises in sitting at her mother’s feet, absorbed in fairy tales. At the age of eleven she was sent away to boardingschool, where she entered upon a regular., college.course. As one great object of her ambition was to graduate young, it being considered a mark of extraordinary talent to do so, she eagerly undertook tq dq the” w’ork of eight years in four. Her uncommon aptness and familiarity with history caused her to be put into a class of girls considerably older than herself; and it at once became the darjing object of her already too largely developed approbativeness, not only to keep up with but to outstrip these. Herein lies one very common error in the education of children —their vanity or love of praise (approbativeness, technically speaking) is constantly brought into play at the expense and to the neglect of such faculties as self-esteem and conscientiousness, w’hich organs as truly require exercise for their development as the hand or arm, which, unused, shrinks away to utter incapacity. Cora was small for her age, delicate at that—one of those precocious, sensitive mental temperaments back upon whjch. the popular forcing process of education rebounds with greatest injury, dwarfing their stature and consuming their small stock of vitality; yet they are the very ones w’ho can best afford to spend the first fourteen years of life in strengthening the constitution, developing the powers of chest, lungs, circulation and respiration. The rules of this boardingschool w’ere like those of most others in the South; eight hours for study and recitation, one for exercise and one for meals and rest. At daylight the “rising-bell” rang—then prayers (a very lifeless form with the student), breakfast, study hours, intermission from twelve till two, study and recitation till four, a walk in the campus (not a good romp to lubricate the muscles and send the nervous fluid bound-

' ing healthfully through every part of the system, but an orderly, lady-like walk of a few hundred yards), a mean excuse for exercise, as unlike it as froth is to cream. Here is another mistaken idea among parents and educators, that noisy play should be repressed instead of being encouraged, as the God-ordained means of healthy growth; for it is certain that the free use of the voice doubles the benefit of muscular exercise, and is such a tonic to the lungs as is involved in large, free inspirations of air. Unfortunately for poor little Cora her parents and teachers knew very little of .>the true science of life, though having the name of well-educated people. The fare of the boarding-school was scant and not of the best, notwithstanding the palpable physiological, law that at the growing period of lite the system requires the most nutritious food. Biscuits, into which soda and lard had entered largely, formed part of every meal, the basis in fact; cheese was ptoyided instead of butter, and coffee in place of milk. Cora entered upon this repressive regimen with a determination to win the first honor or die. She was anxious to be accomplished afcwell as learned, so in addition to the eight regular studies of her class she took four of the ornamental branches. This quite filled her time. In summer when other less ambitious girls were sitting out under the green trees, enjoying the sweet, smiling landscapes, vocal with bird songs and insect hum, idly turning flower-wreaths and resting ’after dinner, Cora Wa§ wearily practicing slier music in a close room, or bending over her desk taking a drawing lesson. Her intense and undeyiating application had its natural result: she soon achieved a high position in her classes, and seemed in a fair way of distancingall competitors, while such a thing as buoyant health be-

came foreign to her overtasked system. She had several rivals; one a girl five years older than herself, of far greater physical stamina as well as maturer mind; another who took no extras, boarded at home, and had a big brother to aid her in her lessons. The race for first honor was clearly going to be a close one; and the partisans of each sought to make capital by flattering their favorites into using their powers to cover their own carelessness. Poor Cora’s overweening love of praise added this final burden to her heavy tasks, every moment not employed on her own lessons being devoted to helping her own classmates and girls in lower classes with theirs. Cora thought she took “quantities of exercise;” she was “so tired” when she went to bed she couldn’t sleep, poorchild; yet the “ exercise,” being only a mechanical walk while she studied, and the “tired” feeling utter mental exhaustion, did not produce the effect either ot wholesome fatigue or vigorous muscular exertion. During her senior term she taxed her mind and body to the uttermost. She had thirteen studies; made it a rule to go over all her lessons with a. little room-mate, belonging to the initial class, and -worked all the sums and algebra problems for the entire junior class. She was indeed immersed, mind, soul and body, in mental exercises; hastily swallowed her food without thinking of it, took the rule-en-forced walks with her Analogy in her hand, and dreamed all night of theorisms in mensuration. Yet her only perceptible decline was in her, slightly-increased emaciation, a worrying little cough, and regular dull headache. It was rare for her to miss a recitation from the stereotyped excuse of so many of her classmates —unwell; and while her healthier mates contracted the epidemics, mumps and measles, which prevailed in the school, Cora escaped both. Her theme at Commencement, “The Jewish Nation,” gave ample scope for the display of her remarkable knowledge of history and her peculiar gift of appropriateness of language. She handled her theme with a felicity and power that left no room for criticism. The coveted first honor was hers, and she returned home with her delighted parents for a long vacation, after which she was to go to a finishing school. A long one indeed it proved, for the following week saw her prostrated with a low, lingering species of “typhoid malarial fever,” a disease common to miasmatic Southern latitudes, assuming in its course generally lung or liver complications. It does its work slowly, but with always fatal results when the mind of the patient is irritable, restless and preoccupied with worrying thoughts. In Cora’s case mental repose was impossible; her mind, accustomed to ■work in a certain groove, continued its laborious treadmill of thought—her faculties going through the mental operations to w’hich they had been accustomed without any conscious effort on her part. Death at length set his seal upon the overtasked, overstrained, worn-out brain. “ Educated to Death” would have been the fitting epitaph on the tall, white monument reared by her doting parents. “ Taken from us by an inscrutable Providence” was engraven upon it, for at this door do many lay the palpable effects of their own violations of the most obvious physiological laws.—Ffrywiia Durant Covington, in N. Y. Graphic.