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'NOV 10 1974
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6 -T-^b 7
STATE NORMAL SCHOOL,
Ho)iE AND School Training.
BY
MRS. H. E. G. AREY, A.M.
C.%^o^
"Society, generally speaking, is not only ignorant as respects the
eJiiciition i)f the ju<lgment, but is ignorant of its ignorance." — Prof.
Far.4day.
PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. I; I P P I N C O T T & CO.
18 84.
Copyright, I^>^l, by .1. P>. Lippincott & Co.
PEEFAOE.
In offering to those who form the tone and color of
our homes this plea for home instruction, the writer has
felt not only that the subject has at no time received
the attention it demanded, but that we are coming to
neglect it more and more. Our children deserve some-
thing better than this at our hands. But this is an age
of rnachinerv, and we are so absorbed in the wonders
of the new era that we seem inclined to relegate all our
duties to be wrought out by some curious piece of me-
chanical ingenuity. Our schools are so abundant, and
so thoroughly systematized, that parents, looking upon
them with pride, are apt to think the child happily
born to so goodly an inheritance, and that once placed
in their care his education is a fact accomplished.
But the specially important phase of instruction — that
which forms a symmetrical character — is ostensibly ig-
nored in many of our schools, and the most abiding
portion of the child's mental seed-sowing has already
taken root and given its tints to the soil before the
period for entering the school-room arrives. If there
is any one thing that seems especially given into the
hands of the parents, it is the oversight of this first lush
4 PREFACE.
<fr()\vlli of" the young mind. Whatever arrangernontfi
mav he made for this oversight outnide the nursery,
the demands, the confidences, the amusements of the
oliild's home-life are the 'best medium through whicli
it can be given, the impulses of parental affection its
highest opportunity. In moral teaching we are so apt
to think that injunction means instruction, and to give
the former while we ignore the latter, that the child,
discouraged at the hinderances he finds in his way, and
having no weapon placed in his hand which will help
him to conquer them, comes at last to hate these in-
junctions, and to look upon the word "duty" as the
hardest word he hears.
We lead a child when he is learning to walk, show-
ing him how he may make his footsteps steady and
secure; but how often a sharp injunction, without aid
or explanation, leaves him helpless and in the dark
when he takes his first footsteps in the moral world !
Beyond this plea, a brief review of some of the
phases of school-work which have excited discussion
are given, in the hope that they may aid parents in
preparing for their children a successful and hapjn'
school -life.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
HOME TRAINING.
CHAPTER I.
MENTAL ACTIVITIES DURING THE FIRST YEAR OF LIFE.
PAGE
Section I. — Inheritance 9
II. — Reasoning precedes Speech . . . .10
III. — Formation of Habits, Mental and Physical . 12
IV. — Formation of Habits, Mental and Physical
(continued) . . . . . ... 14
v.— Value of Speech to the Child . . . .19
VI.— Nursery Tales 20
VII.— Love of Nature 22
VIII. — Traits, Natural and Acquired . . . .24
CHAPTER II.
THE mother's FIELD MADE READY TO HER HAND.
Section I. — The Child's Love of Knowing . .25
II. — When Instruction Begins . . . .27
III.— The Mother's Fitness for her Work . . 29
IV. — Health the First Consideration . .31
V. — Health the First Consideration (continued) . .'54
VI. — Fatal Errors of Discipline . . .38
VII.— The Mother's Need of Thorough Education . 41
VIII. — Ilinderances in her Way . . . .44
IX. — Children as Ministers to the Mother's Pride . 46
X. — Fi.xed Results from given Methods of Instruc-
tion 48
1* 6
CONTENTS.
CIIAl'TKIl III.
FIUST HIMl'LE LK.S80N8.
Section T. — A Diij' of Work ....
II. — The ("onsoquonces of Neijlcot
III. — His Mental Wants niu.st bo Supplied
IV.— What Shall the Lessons Be? .
PAOK
50
57
59
68
CHAPTER IV.
• BIAS GIVEN TO THE CHILD'S MIND.
Section 1. — Use and Abuse of Parental Authority
II. — Hints from Foreign Sources .
III. — How Shall the Right Bias be given?
IV.— Teaching of Morals
v.— Of the Fitness of Things
05
70
71
7'4
78
CHAPTER V.
THE MOTHER AS KINDERGARTNER.
Section I. — Cultivating the Power of Attention'
II. — Insight into Character .
III. — Time put at Interest
83
87
88
CHAPTER VI.
CLEARNESS OF IMPRESSION THE FAST FRIEND OF TRUTHFUL-
NESS.
Section I. — Recapitulation 90
II. — Mischief of Confused Impressions 91
III.— Teaching Untruthfulness .... 92
IV. — Clear Impressions and Accuracy in reporting
them 95
v.— Fairy-Tales 96
VI.— Honest Teaching 99
VII. — Modes of Discipline 101
VIII.— Growth of Character 102
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
ANALYSIS OF THE QUALITY AXD INFLUENCE OF CERTAIN MODES
OF INSTRUCTION.
PAGE
Section I. — Society Educates 104
II. — Teaching Vanity, Envy, and Self-Respect . lO'J
III. — Learning to Read ...... 107
IV. — Spontaneous Study 108
V. — Object-Lessons by Rote 109
VI. — Mere Memorizing . . . . . .110
VII.— The Basis of Morality Ill
VIII.— How to Study 112
IX.— Study of Real " Things" . . . .115
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STAMP OF HEREDITARY' INFLUENCE.
Section I. — Moral and Mental Resemblance to Parents . 119
II.— Results of Self-Culture 120
III.— Statistics 123
IV. — Laying aside Endowments for our Children . 125
PART II.
SCHOOL TRAINING.
CHAPTER IX.
THE WHERE AND WHAT OF SCHOOL-LIFE.
Skction I. — The Child's "Stock in Hand" on entorinj
Sfliool .....
II. — His Knowledge of his Own Languagt
III. — The Mother's Review
IV.— What School shall he Attend ?
V. — How Much Time for School-Life?
VI. — E.xamination of Pr()gramme .
VII. — Primary and Grammar-School Work
\- III. -Half-Knowledge ....
128
129
1:51
V.Vl
135
130
138
no
g CONTENTS.
CHAPTER X.
RESULTS TO UK KFFECTED.
PAQB
Skction i.— Text-Books 142
II. — iSliall we Look for Results in Knowledge, or
in Mental Discipline? .... 145
III. — Comparative Value of Different Studies 146
IV. — Kindergartens 153
V. — Crowded Primary Schools .... 157
VI. — Scatter-brain Schools 158
VII.— Timid Children 169
VIII.— Public Schools 161
IX.— Parental Ambition 163
CHAPTER XI.
CULTIVATION OF THE UNDERSTANDING.
Section I.— To What End? 164
II. — Cultivation of Memory and Judgment . 168
III. — Sound Knowledge teaches Modesty and Self-
Poise . - 169
IV. — Teaching that does not Reach the Under-
standing 171
V. — A Voyage of Discovery in Children's Minds 173
^ VI.— Ill-Selected Mental Food . . .177
VII. — Value of Original Investigation . 178
VITI. — Cases where the Highest Results have been
Secured 182
IX.— Two Theories 185
X.— Wasted Energy 187
XI.— Moral Use of School Discipline . . .189
XII. — Education shows " How to Live, " as well as
"How to Think" 192
HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
PART I.
HOME TKAINII^G.
CHAPTER I.
MENTAL ACTIVITIES DURING THE FIRST YEAR
OF LIFE.
Section I. — Inheritance.
The child lies in his cradle drowsing, cooing, toss-
ing his feet, and grasj)ing for the sunbeams, or making
the air quiver with his overflow of joy, or his strenuous
remonstrances against what he considers the ills of life.
He is the centre of tiie family. Unable to care for
himself, every provision has been made for his com-
fort. He is rarely for a moment out of the thoughts
of those who hold themselves responsible for his wel-
fare. " How active he is !" we say, as the feet grow
weary in ministering to his ceaseless wants. But he
is more active than we think. We see the tireless
hands and feet, we hear iiis constant cidls for help in
carrying out his desires, but we do not see the active
brain, which stretches out like a fresh tendril, eling-
iny; to y;old or garbaije, whichever it mav find. And,
10 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
;i.s \vc do not see to-day how this invisible activity is
occupying itself, we fail to remind ourselves that U>-
iiiorrt)w it may he very difficult to loosen it fr<jin its
ill-clioscn hold. Yet this failure is not from lack of
interest in the child. For many a long month his
welfare has been the first thought of his parents. The
mother has prepared the articles of his wardrobe with
untiring care, assuring herself that no possible want
has been forgotten. She has shown them to her
friends, and the fair laces and dainty frills have been
admired. Yet all this while another fabric has been
weaving, costlier than all, and all-important. For lack
of the daintiest garments pride may sujBfer for a day ;
but for lack of proper weaving in this latter fabric the
child of a hundred years shall Dot outgrow the loss.
We do not refer to the physical system, for even the
lack of a sound constitution can be remedied as the
years go on ; but for lack of moral fibre we have few
remedies as yet.
Section II. — Reasoning precedes Speech.
For the ship's mast, that must bear the wrenchings
of the tempest, we seek out the strong oak, whose roots
struck deep into the earth before its first buds shot to
the light; and on somewhat the same principle, we
think, we shall be forced to look for moral strength
in the forests of humanity. It was the great desire of
successful men in the old times, as it is to a less extent
at the present, to found a family, to see that their chil-
dren were well born, and fit to stand among the nobles
of the laud. But in another sense it is possible for all,
except the vicious, to see to it that their children are
REASONING PRECEDES SPEECH. H
well born, — born, by a higher birthright than worldly
success can give, to stand among the very noblest of
the world's nobles. When such a birthright as this is
offered for our children, shall we exchange it for a mess
of pottage ? The law that the sins of the parents are
visited upon their children has its converse, and the
noble life of every parent may be inherited in the
personal excellence of those who come after him. Let
us return a moment to these invisible activities of the
child in his cradle. As his intelligence grows, the
household gather about him in wonder that he should
know so much. " Look at that ! He understood what
I said. It is the very thing I a>!ced for. How could
he know?" They have not observed, perhaps, that his
" knowings" have been accumulating this many a day.
He has gathered up item after item of knowledge.
The nooks and crannies of his brain are filled witii
them ; but they have not yet received the stamp of cur-
rent coin. They are not ready to pass into circulation
in the mart of human speech, and when these first
coinings of his brain slip indirectly in upon the gen-
eral mental exchange, we are as much surprised as if
we did not know that this was his great year for gath-
ering treasure into his mental storehouse. As a man
must furnish his house before he begins housekeeping,
so must this child furnish his brain before he can, even
in the simplest ideas, sit at the mental feast with those
about him. At first we see him reaching after the
j)ictures on the wall, or the gas-light, and, failing to
obtain these, he plays with his chubby hands, dancing
for a moment with delight, and then rubbing them
over in doubt. He does not know whether the gas-
12 HOME AM) SCIIOOl, TUAIMSa.
light, or whatever other moon h(; is calling lor, is a
portion of his hands or not. Wlicn lie thinks it is, he
dances; he has what he desires; but when he changes
his mind, he cries out. He is striking a dividing-line
between that which is a part of himself and that which
belongs to other bodies. He is studying the " me" and
the " not me," and he returns to the study day after
day. But he knows at last ; and in studying this ques-
tion he has learned distance and form ; and in acquiring
this knowledge he has needed no- teacher except his own
inherent perceptions. He has studied the best of books
in studying the things about him, and liis knowledge
is indisputable. And how has he gained this kiiowl-
edge? By distinct propositions and conclusions, by
a logical process of reasoning. There is no other
process by wliich the human mind can attain knowl-
edge. Without the power of words he has stored these
facts in his mind, and you can never afterwards deceive
him with regard to them.
Section III.— Formation of Habits, Mental and Physical.
INIany acts of what seem wanton destruction are car-
ried out in his investigations, but he is only endeavoring
to answer his own questions. On seeing this destruc-
tion, the untrained mother screams at him, and the
child screams in response, and in this direction his
powers are quite beyond her own. But if, with that
\vomanly power of divination which seems to have
been given her especially for this work, she perceives
what is in his mind, and talks with him calmly about
it, the chances are that he will yield up his destructive
propensities, in the belief that there is some better way
FORMATION OF HABITS, ETC. 13
of getting his questions answered. He may understand
very little of what she says, in which case he takes
faith for understanding. The little he does understand
satisfies him, so valuable is knowledge to his mind.
But the child does understand what is said to him
much earlier than the unobserving are accustomed to
suppose. He is an intelligent being, and the mother's
appeal to his understanding is in the line of his desires
and requirements. Any one who has observed the
difference in progress between a child who has some
friend that thinks it worth while to talk to him and
one who has not, will recognize the value of this method
of appeal. By and by this child's mental garden, into
which, unknowingly, he has dropped day by day the
seeds wrenched from the dry husks of common facts,
blossoms suddenly into speech. He has acquired a
symbol for the things he knew already. The thing
itself had become familiar to him before he knew the
value of the symbol, and before he knew even the
thing itself his mind had already gone through impor-
tant processes of reasoning. He had noted one item
after another, and reached valuable conclusions. Be-
fore he uttered, or even understood, the word "chair"
or ** table," he had noted the similarity between chair
and chair, and the difference between chair and table.
Before the word " papa" had passed his lips, the dif-
ference in form and features between his father and
other men had become familiar to him. A child in
his second year, who had seen one uncle, was presented
to another, a brother of his father, and resembling iiim
very closely. " Uiicle-papa !" he exclaimed at once,
designating the resemblance in the clearest possible
1 1 HOME AM) SCIIOOI, THMMSd.
way. " A c'liiel's ainang yc takin' notes." Yes, always,
whenever there is a chiKl among you he is taking
notes. And the time is not far distant when he will
" print 'em." Sometimes, when this printing takes
place, there is some one who objects to them, some one
who thinks the notes ill taken. Rut, if so, it is prob-
ably not the child that is to blame. Jf he has found
two' faces belonging to the same person, he will be very
likely to present the wrong one when occasi(jn comes.
It may be the one which has impressed him most.
And so the enfant terrible comes into the field of
vision. This child has not learned deception. He
is by nature truthful. When he enters the world, he
enters at once upon his search for knowledge, and
knowledge is truth. This love of trutii is his endow-
ment, without which he would have nothing to seek in
the world. Some children may be born without this
endowment, but, if so, the lack of it is as much an
evil endowment as if they had been born with delirium
tremens. And in his most degenerate form, however
much of falsehood he may oflPer to others, he seeks
diliffentlv for the truth himself. In the low-grained
stupidity he has itdierited he has been deceived into
looking upon falsehood as a means of self-defence.
Many a mother, how^ever unwittingly, heaps lesson
upon lesson that will impress upon the minds of her
children this view of falseliood.
Section IV.— Formation of Habits. Mental and Physical
I continued .
We say now that he is learning language, or it would
be more accurate to say that he is learning speech: Ian-
FORMATION OF HABITS, ETC. 15
giiage lie has been learning almost from the first; at
least from the time when his eye first followed from
the lips of the speaker to the object which had been
named. First he learned the thing itself, then the
meaning of the word which is a symbol of the thing,
and now he learns to utter the word. He understands
it long before. He cries for his cup of milk, but he
ceases his cry as soon as he knows it is understood, and
looks expectantly at the door at which it will be brought
in. But if it has been supposed that he was hungry
instead of thirsty, and bread is brought instead of milk,
his cry commences again. It is as yet his only vehicle
of communication, and it is very hard for the child
who uses this mode of communication among dull or
indolent people. His outcry must be so long continued
before he obtains an answer to his pressing wants that
a habit of irritability is formed, and a complete mis-
understanding ensues between the child and his nurse,
which is destructive of peace. If he is surrounded by
people who are so indifferent to his wants that they
attend to them only to rid themselves of the annoy-
ance of I lis cries, the child soon understands that this is •
the case. He sees in it a means of mastery, and brings
it forward on all occasions, crying for his caprices as
well us for his wants, and receives the same indiscrim-
inating attention in the one case as in the other. He
is thus encouraged in his ideas of mastery, and becomes
a tyrant in the house; while a prompt and decided
manner of attending to iiis real wants, and ignoring
his unreal ones, would have saved his temper and the
quiet of the household. If the mother wishes to know
what comfort is worth to her child, let her remember
16 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
wliat it is vvortli to licrscif"; wlietlicr peace of" iiiiiid
is e^isy to he niaiutuined in the midst of hunger or
plethora, with ill-arranged (-lothing, nnconifortaljle lig-
atures, or a j>ehl)le in the shoe. There should not only
he a provision, l)Ut a prevision, for his eohif'ort. She
should see beforehand that these discomforts do not
occur, recognizing that it is her first duty to prevent
them. If she sees him in the hands of some young
nurse, with his clothes twisted about him or erowde<l
under his arms, while his feet are exposed, she must
see the thing remedied at once, and must insist that the
nurse does not let it occur again. A young nurse must
be exercised in the proper handling of the child until
she does it easily. A little skill and a proper interest in
the matter will suffice. If the mother is naturally tidy
and careful of her own physical well-being, she is apt
to look after the same things in her child. A due
attention to the hours of feeding, and to the quantity
and quality of the food, will save the child from liunger
or plethora. No exact rules can be laid down on these
points. It needs judgment and observation on the
part of the mother to determine them. It needs also
a knowledge of physiology and of foods. She Unows,
of course, that the child must not be fed directly after
a meal, — that some time must elapse before the stomach
is again in a fit state to receive food.
With these elements of discomfort eliminated, and
the prompt, decided attention to his wants that has
been mentioned, the tyrant will disappear, and the
child resume his place as a centre of enjoyment in the
household. Upon such apparently trifling things as
these the child's habits are formed, — his habits of irri-
FORMATION OF HABITS, ETC. 17
tability or enjoyment, of" affection, of gratitude, of
trust in others. His belief in the honest kindliness
towards himself of those by whom he is surrounded
will be affected during his whole life by the treatment
he receives during the first two years. At what risk,
then, do we place a thing so important to his future
welfare when we gfve the child over into the hands
of servants whose mental discipline is as nothing, and
whose moral discipline and natural dis{)osition are wholly
unknown to us ! It is very rare in this country, where
they are drawn wholly from our foreign j)opulation,
to find servants who can be trusted in such matters,
and in all such cases the nurse should be regarded only
as the assistant of the mother, who is present with her
children the greater portion of the time. The harden-
ing influence of rough treatment or neglect upon the
children of the vicioHs, or those in extreme poverty,
forms a lesson which we do well to study. The lone-
some wail of such a child in infancy is pitiful to hear ;
by one who has heard and noted it, it will not be soon
forgotten. And, later, the stony apathy, the settled
defiance, the contemptuous unbelief, with which all
movements of kindliness towards himself are met, the
wary and suspicious cunning with which he regards all
charitable efforts for his welfare, and then, when satis-
fied on these points, the mendacity and greed with
which he absorbs all gifts, while chuckling to himself
at the gullibility of the donors, are things which the
managers of our charities find it almost impossible to
overcome. Only in proportion as the child has at some
time or in some form met with kindness in his earliest
years docs it seem possible to overcome them. Re-
ft 2*
18 HOME AND SCIIOOn TRAINING.
coiviiiuj only liaisli words :in<I Idows, or n still riKjn;
pitiful ncglpct, tlirougli all tln' uiiiillcrc*! tliinkiii;; of
his first years, lie lias based his lil'c ii|)oii another theory
than that of human kindliness, and is patiently build-
ing his superstructure thereupon. He accepts the posi-
tion that his hand must be against every one, sinee
every man's liand is against him, and his attitude
towards the world is one of bitter defiance. Deep-
seated in his lieart, thougli unuttered to himself, is the
opinion that men are beasts of prey. In order to
change this attitude, you must take out, one by one,
the foundation-stones upon which his plan of action is
reared, and build the whole anew. No such evil as a
mere sowing of tares among the wheat can offer such
resistance as this. In view of such facts, we see that
the establishment of our day-nurseries is a charity
which far outlasts the day when the child is cared for
in them. It is a mistake, however, to place in charge
of such institutions persons whose sympathies outrun
their judgment, for such persons are gifted with the
power of monlding the child into a domestic tyrant,
thus placing an additional bur.Ien in the I ands of
the overworked mother who has sought this means
of relief.
Every one who has the charge of chi'dren should
learn to know the difference between their wants and
their caprices. We are apt to leave such matters to a
haphazard judgment rather than to a careful study of
proofs. It may be said that in cases of extreme poverty
the mother must neglect the child. But, even at the
worst, the warm embrace, however brief, will keep
alive the child's faith in his mother's love, — a faith
VALUE OF SPEECH TO THE CHILD. 19
which he will never lose; and (or the rest, in the cheer-
fulness which his presence acids t(» her wearv lih; he
becomes almost a helj), instead of a burden.
Section V.— Value of Speech to the Child.
We have brought the child forward to the period
wlien he first begins to utter speech. He has now taken
a firriier gra.sp than before of the objects about him. At
first he gained his ideas wholly without lielj) from
others. But from the moment when he first under-
stood the meaning of words he began to gather them
slowly on the borders of the world's stored-up knowl-
edge. Now he can communicate directly with his fel-
lows. He is no longer dependent upon a cry for the
expression of his wants. He should not trouble us
much more in this way. But all the stored-up ques-
tions which have flowed in upon him from the first are
to be asked and answered. Not his capricious ques-
tions, but all his real ones, demand attention, — those
which he asks in the pursuit of real information. At
this period hLs parents — all who exerci.se influence over
hira — are his teachers. His parents cannot shirk this
duty with the idea that some one el.se will do it for them
by and by. It cannot be done by and by. If the parents
do not answer them, some one else will, or he will an-
swer them him.self, however erroneously. The answers
to mauy of his questions will have to be deferred until
he can understand them; but when we tell him this, it
is itself an answer. But this is the time es|)e('ially in
which he is to learn language, to understand the terms
in constant use in his own tongue. He has at this time
an appetite for language, an earnest zeal in familiar-
20 noMH A.XD SCHOOL TRAJNINQ.
izliiL;- liiiiiscll' willi il. 'I'lu; \\\y)>{ lc(|i(»Ms n-pctition does
not wciiry liiiii ; lie cliiiihs np aj^aiii ami a^aiii and asks
for (lu! same nursery rliynie. It is no sooner finisliecl
than lie wishes it to commence again. The diflerent
images it presents seem to reveal themselves to his mind
little by little, brightening every day. The questions
he asks about it are not the same to-day that they will
be to-morrow. The rhythm attracts him, for it seems
to accord with some other rhythm in his own nature;
and the more perfect it is, the more thoroughly does
it convey any lesson it may contain.
The child should be liberally equipped with a knowl-
edge of his own language before he enters the school-
room, whether it be a kindergarten or primary school :
it is the implement with which he works. There is
altogether too much studving in our schools of words
M'hich fail to convey any adequate meaning. Every
teacher will recognize by the language used the differ-
ence between the little child reared in a family where
the conversation he hears takes a wide and intelligent
range, and the one who grows up where there is little
that (an be called conversation, — where the talk he
hears is limited to the meaner and narrower things with
which life has to do, and thus requires only the most
limited vocabulary. And this line of demarcation does
not confine itself wholly to the line which divides the
rich and the poor, for frivolity and narrowness find a
foot-hold everywhere.
Section VI.— Nursery-Tales.
We know that the nursery-tales of our race come
down to us from the remotest antiquity, and that they
NURSERY-TALES 21
are sung to-day as mufh to tlic cliildrcii <>l" the savage
tribes of far-off deserts as to the noblest heir of En^-
b'sh blood that has ever been dandled on his nurse's
knee. And the question arises wliether there can be
such a thing as progress in nursery-tales, — whether
they have any need to advance with our advancing civili-
zation. It is barely possible, in view of the place tliey
must hold in the teaching of language and other things,
that they are worthy of some attention from us. That
the range of these tales mig-ht be varied and widened
indefinitely is certain. There are a multitude of frag-
ments that could be taken from our poets and prose-
writers, increasing the child's vocabulary in a most valu-
able way, and filling the miml with images which are
well worth retaining.
An early familiarity with and love of nature consti-
tute an important safeguard. I have seen a child of
three years sitting on the knee and listening intently to
the first cantos of " The Lady of the Lake," with their
close descriptions of nature, each difficult word being
explained to her as the story went on, and the whole
making an impression on her mind which caused it to
be called for again and again. After one or two repe-
titions, it would be accomj)anied by undertoned com-
ments, as, "'Career' means 'a running;' 'beamed front-
lets,' antlers.'" (She wjts familiar with the deer in the
park.) " You left out
'With whimpering cry
The hounds beliind their passage ply.' "
The stag was her hero, and she had endless questions
22 HOMK AM) SCHOOL TRAINING.
((» ;isk jilxMit iiiiii, licr adiiiiratioii lor li is courage reach-
ing its lieiglit wlien told tliut
" Thrico lliat day, from shore to shore,
The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er."
And wlicnever she found that she was about to give
way to the habit of crying for tiifling hurts she would
check herself and say, "I can be brave."
Section VII.— Love of Nature.
The period we have already described, in which the
child was learning to understand things, and before lie
could nndcr.stand or utter the names of those things, has
seen him fairly started in tlie line of investigation of the
objects about him, in the natural order of study, from
facts to conclusions, from experience to reason, from
concrete to abstract. It has laid in him the founda-
tion of a love of nature which needs only to be wisely
directed in order to afford an antidote against vicious
tastes, and an unfailing source of enjoyment. That the
love of nature would, in any ca.se, differ with different
children is beyond question; but that a wholesome love
of it can be implanted in every child's mind, at least in
every one where a vicious inheritance has not already
taken, a priori, possession of the soil, is also beyond
question. The child that creeps up delighted to the
glimmer of sunshine on the carpet, or pours out all his
phrases of expression in admiration of the first beauti-
ful flower he sees, is merely holding out his hands to
us in an appeal to be led in this direction ; and lunv
easv is the leadintr! The dancinir of the leaves in the
LOVE OF NATURE. 23
sun, the branches tossing to the wind, the sliiinnur on
the waving grass, the varied hues of the sunset, the
towers against the gray skv, and a tliousand tilings
beside, furnish to him wide fields of ocenpation and
dehght. If we who are mothers thus sow the domain
of the cliild's mind with sturdy grain while he is still in
our hands, it w^ill be of comparatively little use for the
enemy to sow tares in the well-occupied soil when the
world takes him out of our hands, as it is sure to do,
for his school-days and other busy days, almost before
w^e know that he is ours. And let no one suppose that
the strongest hewer in the world's stony ways will be
weakened by being led in his infancy in this direction.
To answer this somewhat singular objection w^e have
only to look into the lives, not of our statesmen and
literary men merely, but of our most successful business
men, to see how strong their love of nature is. It is
always a characteristic of depth of character. If the
child has formed the habit of irritability, or even of
caprice, it stands greatly in the way of this, as well as
all other sources of pure enjoyment. If the fretfuluess
is consequent upon ill health, we must bear with it as
patiently as we can until the weak nerves grow strong.
But with a child in health, irritability is either a habit
or an inheritance. The habit can be forestalled, as has
been indicated, and even the clinging root of an evil
inheritance may, by persistent effort, be rooted out,
though it may need the strong help of the individual
iiimself for its complete eradication. No task can
bring a greater reward to the mother than to iiave set
this work wisely on foot, thus lessening the i)nrdon her
child has to bear.
24 HOME A AD SCHOOL TRAINING.
Section VIII.— Traits, Natural and Acquired.
Traits oi' cliuracter are natural and acciuircil, and,
where there is any progress in the life of" the indi-
vidual, the acquired traits must, of necessity, be an
iiii|)n)venient upon the natural ones. But traits ac-
quired at haphazard are not likely to i)e an improve-
ment. It is oidy by patient effort on the ])art of
mother and teacher, and afterwards of the individual
himself, that progress can be expected. For, in the
main, this progress consists in the rooting out, or the
careful pruning, of undesirable natural traits : a proper
stimulus has been given to such as were weak, a proper
curbing to such as were in excess. In carrying out this
work of j)rogress we are apt to look upon our own
natural traits as a part of ourselves, and to cover them
over with the mantle of our self-love, however unde-
sirable they may be, however decidedly we should dis-
approve of them if they belonged to another. We be-
come their apologist, and determine to make a virtue
of that which, under any other circumstances, we
should regard as a vice. This is very much as if we
should attempt to hide some physical disease, and in-
sist that the spreading deformit)j was the bloom of
health, thus denying or ignoring the necessity of reme-
dial measures. So much more highly do we appear to
prize the continuance of life than we do beauty of
character. If we could look back through the long
line of our ancestry and see where these unlovely
traits came in as a portion of our inheritance, we might
hold them in less loving regard. Only a few centuries
since, our ancestors were a race of savages, neither more
THE CHILD'S LOVE OF KNOWING. 25
nor less bfautit'iil in character tJuiii savages of the same
grade at the present day. Civilization is made up of
acquired traits, acquired in the interest of progress,
and, as we prefer civilization to the state of tlie savage,
we should be willing to contribute our own personal
share to this work of progress in ourselves and in our
children. We say we love our children better than
we love ourselves, but it is doubtful if we love our
children's faults better than we love our own. If we
did, weshoidd make better children of them, for example
is the first as well as the last word in moral teaching.
If we would apply to ourselves the same rules of rigid
criticism that we are accustomed to apply to others, we
should be saints indeed. If we could sit down over
against ourselves and examine our traits of character
aud our habits as if they belonged to another, we
should find ourselves possessed of a new weapon with
which to fight the battle of personal civilization.
CHAPTER II.
THE MOTHER'S FIELD MADE READY TO HER HAND.
Section I.— The Child's Love of Knowing.
The mother is the first and most fully equipped
teacher of her child, for she possesses unquestioned
authority, immeasurable love, and a deep personal in-
terest in the welfare aud progress of the pupil. As
we have seen, the first months of his life have been
B 3
2() HOME ASI> SCIIOOI, TliAIMS'!.
spciil in Mil iiiiaiilcd >tn»ly nf the olycct.s alxfiil liiiii ;
l)ut the moinciil lie comes to iiiKlerstaiid Iniinaii spcicli
Ills field ol' observation stretelies out beyond tlie narrow
walls of liis nursery, and widens by degrees, until at
last it embraces tli(; whole world.
At first his eye was mainly his teacher, but, from the
moment he begins to understand words, he is ca})able
of gaining knowledge from sources quite beyond his
range of vision or the cognizance of his other senses.
Every one who speaks to him, or speaks in his pres-
ence, is adding to ids possessions, for from this time to
his school-days he is more than anything else a student
of language. His mother says, "The milk is coming;
Nettie will bring you the milk;" and he ceases his call,
and fixes his eye on the door by which it will come.
He is receiving information on trust from others. He
has stepped into his inheritance as heir of the world's
knowledge.
That this is the period when the child is especially a
student of language is shown by the fact that those
forms of words which are now im])lanted in his mind
will cling to it with fierce tenacity through all his life.
These first forms that he learns are tap-rooted plants,
that strike down deep below the surface. We may lop
them off at the top, and give them sharp cuts of the
spade far under ground, but they will come np again
at unexpected points. Why should we allow a field to
be planted first with thistles when we believe that we
are making it ready to wave one day with a harvest of
golden grain? Certainly wo do this when we leave
the child wholly to the care of uneducated and undis-
ciplined servants during his first years. When we do
WHEN INSTRUCTION BEGINS. 27
this we forget that the child is from the lirst a zealous
student. Any hatred of study he may ever possess
comes in later than this, and when it comes there is a
reason why. His own active perceptions and desire to
know are the outfit which nature has given him for his
task. He is like the Athenians, always eager to hear
jr know some new thing. His mind is like a ploughed
field, ready for the sower. If we do not see to it our-
selves that the field is planted, another will ; and while
we who love the child would doubtless look to it that
it is sowed with good seed, the chance sower will do
nothing of the kind. Mental neglect means starvation,
and starvation engenders disease.
Section II.— When Instruction Begins.
We will suppose, then, that the mother is installed
as teacher in her own nursery, and that she recog-
nizes that all the means she uses for the amusement
or the increased understanding of the child can be
classed under the head of instruction. We may go
further than this, and say that all the habits — of feed-
ing, of cleanliness, of content or ill temper — which the
mother is forming for her child can be classed uudcr
the same head. We are a[)t to put the period at which
what we call instruction commences at quite too late a
date. As we have said, he begins the study of lan-
guage when he first listens to his nursery-tales, — takes
in, fragment by fragment, the images they present, until
he grasps them all, goes over tlunn again and again, Jis
the miser counts his gold, or as the adult student goes
over his cardinal points, delights in the repetiti(Mi, ("or
rej)etition is of value to the lilllc child or to the ad-
28 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
vaiK'cd student as long as there is in (lie siihjcci any-
iliiii^ left to be uiulerstood. At this period the chiUl's
mind gathers feebly and renK'nii)ers only in j)art. We
cannot say tiiat beoanse a little child has uttered a word
for the first time to-day he will be able to utter the same
word to-morrow. It presented itself to him in the- right
way to-day, but it is not certain that it will present itself
in the same way to-morrow. We all know liow a child
will smile quietly and refuse to attempt the utterance
of a word which he understands perfectly but has never
uttered. He is not sure of himself, and he declines to
be laughed at. And if you say " wa-wa," instead of
water, because that is the way he pronounces it, he will
probably show his decided disapproval of your mode
of pronunciation. It is his power of utterance, not his
apprehension, that is at fault. And with only these
few months of life behind him, he can safely be left to
correct himself in such points. He can spare time to
correct his errors, and the practice is of value.
Having decided, then, that even at this period in-
struction has begun, the special task of the mother is
now to curb, direct, and supj)lement the ordinary othces
of the nursery, and to watch carefully the development
of the understanding, for in no two children will it de-
velop alike, and the little group of blossoms on her own
centur^'-plant \\\\\ open but once in a lifetime. Siie can
afford the needed time. Other things can be put aside,
but this work hurries forward faster than she knows.
Only a brief period, and the seed-time will be over,
and through all the remainder of her life she must reap
the harvest, whether sweet or bitter, of that which she
has planted.
THE MOTHER'S FITNESS FOR HER WORK. 29
How imicli more important, then, that slic should
spend lier time in this work of instruction than in any
decoration of" infant finery or of lionse walls and niches !
There is always some form of fashionable toy-worl<
which seems to push itself forward in a demand upon
all the leisure which a mother can find for the instruc-
tion of her children ; and if she does not ignore this
fashionable demand, the chances are that, a few years
later, when this decorative work lies bleaching in the
vats of a paj)er-mill or mouldering in some garret, she
will be growing gaunt and haggard under the penalties
she must suffer for her neglect. Not that she should
not endeavor to make her home tasteful and pleasant ;
but simplicity and good taste are far more attractive
than a mass of confused and troublesome ornament.
To the mother of young children time is the most
valuable possession, and there is no such wasteful ex-
penditure of time as that which is given to the frippery
of butterfly fashions.
Section III.— The Mother's Fitness for her Work.
The thoughtful mother, in undertaK'ing this work,
will carefully review her own fitness for it, and en-
deavor to repair any deficiencies she may find. Her
education at school and at home will i)c brought well
into play, — her knowledge of chemistry, of physiology,
of anatomy, as well as of botany or of modes of growth,
of history, and of general literature. Her mind will
recur continually to the home teaching she lias received,
to the household lore she has been gathering at the
chimney-side from her childluxHl u]). If she belongs
to an unl)roken familv, one which has held (om'tiicr fur
30 HOME AM) SCHOOL TRAINING.
some irciicrations uitlioiit \vi<l<' separations, orcarlv dcutli
of iKirciits, or other inisCortiiiic-, l>y wliicli ilie aromatic
incense of the liouselioM altar lias been scattered to the
winds, slie has in her mind a store of old traditions,
which iier new experience brings in place at every turn.
These brief apothej^ms, in which the old world's wis-
dom in common matters has been stored np and handed
down to us, have usually a real practicid value. But
they seem to have a fondness for (dinging to the old roof-
trees, and to disappear in great measure when tlie old
household gods are broken and the line of march is
taken up for new camping-grounds. This is especially
true of those race-traditions which are of more general
application. Among a mixed or roving people, or under
the i)ressure of national calamity, they largely disapjMjar,
they lose the stamp of general approval. The wise
proverb that the child hears at his own hearth-stone is
not echoed at the firesides of his comrades, and thus
loses its foothold in his mind, or its seal of general
assent. As the population becomes assimilated and
settled, they reappear, or rather a selection from the
commonplace wisdom of the diiferent peoples makes
its appearance and is stored up again for common use.
It is a loss to any peoj)le when its race- trad it ions dis-
appear, as is true in many portions of our own country.
They form the text-books of the uneducated, the texts
of all on those points which our education neglects.
And our education is apt to be so very deficient in the
teaciiing of that which relates to ho-me-life that the loss
of those household traditions which descend from y-ener-
ation to generation is not easily made good. They touch
so many points, — the manners, the temper, the natural
HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 31
disposition, the relation of" oliildrcn to parents and to one
another; and, while thus arranging matters in the dwell-
ing-room, they do not neglect the cellar, the cook-room,
or the attic. And coming down, as they do, in sharp
sayings from past ages, they possess an authority that
new instruction with difficulty claims. But if the
mother finds use for these old nuggets of wisdom, she
has use also for the new instruction with which the
world has been enriched.
Section IV.— Health the First Consideration.
The habits the child is forming of health, of cleanli-
ness, of good temper, are part and parcel of her work.
She needs to inform herself upon the health of houses,
their location, drainage, ventilation, decay, the disposal
of refuse, malaria, relation of climate to scrofula and
other diseases. She will, of course, have been supi)lied
from the first with some medical manual for the nursery
as a guide in the general routine of personal oversight,
as well as for reference in cases of emergency before a
physician can be called. It is not safe to trust the
memory in matters of this kind. The memory usually
retains no very strong hold upon things wliich come
only occasionally into the field of vision, and in times
of emergency and distress it more frequently than
otherwise refuses its usual aid. I believe the opinion
of certain physicians, which has been fulminated of late,
declares that a woman should not study j)hysiology or
meddle with medical works, but that the care of the
child should be left wholly to the family physician.
This means, of course, that no precautions shall be
takrii ill the mirsery against disease, but that when the
32 HOME AM) SCHOOTj TRAINING.
c'liild falls ill, IVom the iiiotJicr's iViKtraiice or otlier
causes, he shall he turned over to the I'aiuily physician,
to be killed or ciwcd, according to tlie medical man's
skill or the vindence of the attack. But the mother
who is really striving to fit herself for her \vf)rk in the
nursery does not leave her post so insecin-ely guarded.
It may be said thit these matters of health and com-
fort have nothing to do with instruction; but they form
the substratum on which the work must rest, and re-
quire the first attention.
Thus this work of kindergartening in her own
nursery has a much wider range than the mere teach-
ing to a child the names of different parts of a shoe or
flower. The worst preparation, probably, that a young
mother can have for these duties is that obtained from
miscellaneous novel-reading. On the other hand, a
range of well-selected fiction, rightly read, will be a
valuable assistant in her preparation. If they emanate
from the best minds, they give those deep views of the
movements of the human heart which are of value to us
all. Well-handled works of the imagination cannot
fail to broaden the sympathies, by leading us closely into
the lives of those whose springs of action difter from our
own, and enabling us to see how they live and love and
suffer. Imagination is the basis of sympathy. The man
without imagination is the man who never thinks of any
other interest than his own ; for he has no power to put
himself in another's place, — to think what life would
be from any other stand-])oint than his own selfishness
affords. What a pitiful thing it is to find a mother
who does not understand hex o^v^l child !
lu all this preparation die teaching of her own
HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 33
inotliCM- will doubtless have the foremost j>lace. Her
mother's mode ot" eontrol, of household muiuigemeiit,
of moral instruction, of personal care, will come con-
slantly to her mind. Thus we see the work of a good
mother descending from generation to generation, ft
is mainly from the fund of observation stored up by
such mothers that the household traditions of which we
have just been speaking are formed. The mo-t valu-
able of these spread beyond the special iiousehold and
take root in the hearts of the people, forming thus a
portion of our race-traditions, and contributing their
moiety to the advancement of humanity. We may say
that these traditions concern the most commonplace
things; but civilization has its root in the most common-
place things.
But the young mother cannot stop at the limit of her
mother's teaching. To each generation some new light is
given, by eacii some new methods of living, of control, and
of instruction are adopted. During the last generation
the special progress has been in the knowledge of clean-
liness. Clean air, clean wat^r, clean and unadulterated
food are better understood, probably, than ever before.
And the methods of avoiding contagion, too, are belter
understood; but, as these all hinge upon cleanliiie-s, in
one form or another, we can class them under the .■-ame
head. Of all this knowledge, and of whatever other
practical knowledge that will aid her, the mother
should avail herself Does she say that a heavy task
is thus laid upou her? It is not a light task, perhaps,
but very great is her reward. What position in life
can confer so much honor and haj)j)iness ;u^ to be the
mother of noble men and women ? They are not so
c
34 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
alxindaiil in the world liiit that tlicv still stand out in
«tr()ii<; rt'lii'f.
Whatever di.scouragcmcnt.s may coine in lier way, the
mother should reiuember that cheerfnhiess and patience
are among her most important elements of success. A
calm and quiet reproof, in a few words, will weigh
more than all the scolding, all the excited questionings
or remonstrances, that ever were made. But it must be
accompanied by decision. The child must understand
that what is said is meant, that the whole force of the
mother's character stands back of it. A reproof can
neither be rashly made nor rashly withdrawn ; and to
any child old enough to understand it, the mother
should in some way apologize or repair the evil if she
has corrected him for an error he did not commit. She
may think that her dignity will be lowered, her author-
ity weakened, that it is a trivial matter and will pass
out of the child's mind ; but the courageous act of set-
ting the matter right will only add to her dignity and
authority ; and such matters do not pass out of the
child's mind. If the act itself is forgotten, the stinging
sense of injustice remains, and, with such friction, thread
by thread the bond of love and confidence between
mother and child is frittered away.
Section V.— Health the First Consideration (continued).
The constantly-sought desideratum of a sound mind
in a sound body is the problem she is working out.
And the sound body comes first, for it is the founda-
tion. The knowledge required for working out this
proi)lem has already been indicated. The simple food,
nicely prepared and taken at regular intervals, the clean
HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 35
and well-aired beds, the well-rubbed skin, the well-
brushed hair, — tossed about, it may be, but with each
day's cleansing thoroughly carried out, — the clothing
free from dampness or any kind of uncleanliness, the
carefully- ventilated rooms, not too warm and not too
cold, — these and other things are factors in the i)rol)-
lem. She need not blush at the soil the child's clothing
has just acquired in his vigorous play: it is that which
strikes deeper which is to be avoided. And she siiould
see that the clothing is such as will admit of vigorous
play without putting her in terror lest it should be
destroyed. It is a cruelty to tie up the activities of
the child in the spider's web of fine clothing. He is
no more happy than the fly in the web, and in no less
danger, for his health is weakened, and the spider-
germs of disease have their pick at him. (in regard
to the nature of the food, too, she should see that
the judgment she adopts is well takeni that it is such
as nature and experience ])oint out as fitted to sup-
ply strength, energy, and growth. The thought of
pleasing the sense of taste is not all, nor even the first
])oint to be considered. All, or nearly all, wholesome
food, well prepared, will please the taste of a healthy
child. The first thing to be considered is whether it
gives the proper sustenance. Much of the nourish-
ment may be subtracted from food without making it
unpleiLsant to the taste,Vat least until a continuance of
such food causes an outcry from the system for better
nourishment. . But in any case the food should be made
palatable, and care taken not to pervert the taste for
wholesome food. In all this she cannot follow stereo-
typed rules, but must be herself a keen observer, for
3(j HOME AM) SCHOOL THAI SI NO.
no two (;liil(]rt'ii aro alike. A delicate child is liable
to take less food at a time, and to re(jiiire it more fre-
quently, than one in roi)nst health who eats heartily.
It is sometimes said that the <-hild's natural appetite
will determine these points. To some extent this is
true; but where there lies back of the child a line of
ancestors noted for gluttony or intemperance, the simple
food which this period of life requires may not be that
which his natiu'al or unnatural appetite demands. The
mother should be quick to observe any signs of indi-
gestion, and shoidd inform herself in regard to the
various ways in which they show themselves. She
should also know the simplest home remedies. Proper
warmth given to a system which, from some catise, has
been toned too low may sometimes be sufficient; and
where, with jM'oper care, this can be given externally,
it is followed by no undesirable results. Some one has
broached the idea recently of putting infants in an
incubator, or in something securing the same condi-
tions, in order to give them evenness of temperature,
(whatever the means of securing it, the importance of
an even temperature is unquestioned \ it is the special
point made in looking out health-climates for invalids.
Adults can secure evenness of temperature in our
dwelling-rooms when infants cannot. By watching
the first slight signs of disorder a child may often be
kept in health when, by the opposite course of neglect,
he might be in constant need of a physician. These
are points in which "a stitch in time Siwes nine" more
frequently, perhaps, than anywhere else. Forethought
is the secret of all household management.
1 In houses heated with stoves the floors are usually
HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 37
cold, and the cliildren who play there are often exposed
to draughts from beneath doors opening into cold rooms.
The slight colds thus taken often show themselves in
indigestion, and by a continual harrying of this kind an
otherwise strong constitution can be seriously weakened.
Indigestion, in whatever form, means lack of nutrition
to body and brain, ior only through digestion can the
fresh blood be supplied that nourishes them. There
are other dangers to a child- from draughts in comfoi't-
ably-heated rooms. The warm air rises to the ceiling,
is there cooled by contact with the cxiiling, and flows
outward to the walls, where it is still further cooled,
grows heavy, and descends along the wall to the floor.
This downward current of cold air is much colder
when it strikes the outer wall of the house, or the
windows, as the glass offers comparatively little resist-
ance to the coolness of the outer air.
The sturdy young nurse, who very probably has
spent much of her life in the open air, and has thus
gained strength to resist any ordinary exposure, sits
down with the child beside the window, in exactly the
coolest portion of this cool downward current, and
amuses him as well as herself with the sight of out-
door objects. The child would be safer in his carriage
out of doors than exposed to this draught. If the win-
dow were loose, so as to admit a direct current of air,
the mother would notice it and remove the child; but
of this othfi- draught she is perhaps not aware. If she
sits down in it herself, she notices it, thinks she is chilly
this morning, and moves away ; but she is very apt not
to investigate far cnoniili to see that (his is almost the
worst place in the room for the child, and that his out-
4
;}8 HOME AM) scihhHj tuaimxo.
door seeing I'roiii the wiiidow may as well be confined
to moderate weather. If the house is heated with a
furnace, (lie floors are prol)al)Iy warm, and this danger
from wall-currents is probably lessened by the presence
of j)ipes in the walls.
Tlie evils to be avoided are of another kind, — over-
heating, uneven heating (in cases where a change of
wind warms one portion of the house and cools the rest),
leaking of gas, and too great dryness of the air. These
are evils that can be remedied, but it is a very common
thing to find that they are not remedied.
Section VI.— Fatal Errors of Discipline.
When the moflier, by a wise care of her own health
and the child's health, by a steady control of the child's
temper and her own temper, has reduced to a minimum
the friction in her way, she is ready for systematic work
in her human flower-gardening. She has to improve
the soil, to plant well-chosen seed and guard its growth,
to bring to her aid all the appliances which will lead
up to tiie fair flower and the abundant fruit. The
biographer of an eminent man, among whose defects
were obstinacy and hardness of character, says, " A
mother might have had a more softening influence had
hers been of the two the specially formative mind."
The strong power of stamping its own impress on the
character which one or the other parent may possess is
something we cannot choose. Probably the facts so
often brought fm'ward regarding the mothers of great
men result mainly from a happy combination of the
right power in the right place, — a combination which
will occur much more frequently when it becomes a
FATAL ERRORS OF DISCIPLINE. 39
coiiHuon tiling fur mothers to fit themselves lu earnest
to be the mental guides of their young children. For
these first years the mother's should be the specially for-
mative mind. The form she is or should be especially
fitted to give is the one which the child at this time
requires. The creative wisdom has not erred. The
writer just quoted says, too, "The whole character may
be moulded at school ; it is formed at eighteen, various
as may be afterwards the modes of its manifestation."
It is important that the character should not be wholly
formed at school. Think how varied and how entirely
beyond the control of parents are the influences at school,
especially if the school is at a distance from them. The
foundations of the child's character should be laid before
he enters school, in order that he may be able to select
for himself among the varied influences he is to meet
there. This selection, whether he knows it or not, will
be in accord with the bias his mind has already received.
And, taking this view of the early formation of char-
acter, it is impossible to overrate the importance of the
mother's work in the nursery. She lays the foundation-
stones, without which we so often find that the super-
structure is based in sand.
The mother of a boy of seven years once said, " 1
cannot manage him ; it is not my business. A man
must contrt)l boys; he is too old for my hands."
Worthless hand and worthless brain ! If she had done
lier work with the slightest sense of duty in the first
place, he would never have been too old for her hand.
A mother must make herself respected, and for this
purpose must make herself worthy of respect. When
women come to be strongly educated, or to educate
40 JIOMK AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
tliemsclvi-.s ill tliosc liiglior branches wliidi cultivate the
jiulgniciit aiiil sharpen tlie reiusoiiiiig powers, they will
he more certain to secure that respect from their chil-
dren which is all-important to their position. Such a
flagrant lack of appreciation of a mother's duty to her
child as that in the case just mentioned is largely the
result of false views that are prevalent in society. It
is easy to carry to an extreme these absurd ideas of
a mother's natural and necessary incapacity ; and the
indolent mother accepts these ideas and excuses herself
by them for her wretched failures. But the woman
who develops studiously from the beginning the
understanding of her child is of another class, and she
knows very little of the burden laid upon the mother
who believes herself incapable of governing her own
sou. The capricious and ill-balanced mother develops
the capricious and ill-balanced child, and the conflict
between the two is most pitiful. I once knew a couple,
the parents of a child four or five years old, who had
arranged for a short journey ; but the child wished to
accompany them. She was therefore dressed ready for
the trip, and stood on the front steps, in her hat and
wraps, rejoicing while the carriage waited at the door.
The parents came out and went with the child back
into the dining-room, wdiere she was detained by some
stratagem, while the parents hastened through the hall
and entered the carriage, which was driven rapidly
away, leaving the child screaming in the hands of her
nurse. Terrible is the penalty when this ''sowing of
the wind" yields its returns.
NEED OF THOROUGH EDUCATION. 41
Section VII.— The Mother's Need of Thorough Education.
If great men, as is so often asserted, are descended
from strong mothers, there is a reason for it in these
first years of life. Rousseau says, "I wish some judi-
cious hand would give us a treatise on the art of
studying children, an art of the greatest inn)()rtance to
understand, though fathers and preceptors know not as
yet even the elements of it." But mothers, whose life
is in their own nurseries, and whose sympathies are
their guides, can and do understand the art of studying
children ; and only when the education given to women
is such as to enable them to make a practical use of
this understanding, to conduct this early education by
natural and logical means, shall we see it rightly
])lanned and carried out. When the ready intuitions
given to women to aid them especially in this work
are so far modified by an education which disciplines
the judgment as to bring these intuitions forward
into the domain of reason, we shall find in the nur-
sery— that place from which the roots of civilization
draw their nourishment — the work we require, and not
before. The fact that clearness of judgment is depend-
ent upon the discipline which a thorough education
gives cannot be questioned. The cases of persons who
were educated before they were born, wlio inherit a
fine culture, are too rare to affect the question. This
discipline must be obtained either among the knotty
questions of the school-room, or among the similarly
knotty questions in the marts of business. It is not
to be obtained in the stoker's cabin, or at a l)utterfly'8
ball. The man who has the control of an important
4*
42 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
business, whatever his knowledge of hooks m;iy he,
gains the necessary discipHne through his business, and
his judgment may thus become clear and stronr. I'ut
the judgment is like the muscles, a very flabby thing
when it has no exercise; and the persons who always
move under the direction of others, who liave no edu-
cation beyond a few accomplisiunents, and have never
had any important questions of their own to settle, are
known, as a class, to be defii-ient in this rpiality. If
any one doubts this, he has only to make a tour among
this class of people, and push them on points where
clearness of judgment is required. Now, women, to
whom this important work of laying the foundation
of character has been confided by our Creator, may be
fairly enough divided into laboring-women and ladies.
Until very recently, the work of a laboring- woman was
for the most part in the kitchen, where her chief busi-
ness was to tend the fires, — fires of two grades, the
coal-fires in the cook-stove and the food-fires in the
human system, — so that her business, as far as the dis-
cipline of business is concerned, would place her on a
level with any other stoker. As for ladies, it has been
contended by many who consider themselves fit to rule
the wisdom of the world that the life suited to them
is the life of a butterfly's ball. So that, according to
the division made by those who object to the higher
education of women, the puzzle remains where they
are to obtain this discipline which is so absolutely
necessary to them for carrying out their divinely-ap-
pointed work, if they are not to receive a thorough
education in the schools. The fact that women have
at no time in the civilized world i-onfiiied themselves
NEED OF THOROUGH EDUCATION. 43
to either of these conditions makes nothing against
the leo;itin)atc outcome of the arjiuinent of those who
would place them tiiere. In spite of the efforts of
tiiese conservators of feminine incapacity, women have
in one way or another found their way to somewhat of
the knowledge they require. Other and better writers
than Rousseau on education have looked on the mother
as a mere marplot in the training of her chikl. It
may seem Late in the day for entering into an argument
of this kind, but the debates and decisions which meet
us on this side and on that siiow that we are still in
the thick of the battle as regards the higher education
of women. It is true that within tiic last fifty years
a great change has taken ])lace in the opportunities
offered to women for obtaining the discipline necessary
to the formation of clear judgments. And it is true
that nine out of ten of those women who could be
pointed out to-day as doing well-directed educational
work through the nursery, the school-room, or the
press are those who have in one way or another re-
ceived what is called a higher education. The oppor-
tunities given through other sources can be counted
almost at zero. If any one says in answer to this that
learned or literary women make the worst of mothers,
our reply is that it is possible to be learned or literary
without being educated. If a person cultivates learn-
ing or literature for purposes of ambition, simply to
make a show in the world, it is very possible for that
person to make the worst of fatiiers or the worst of
mothers, as the case may be. But this flaunting of
tinsel, or even of something better than tinsel, is a
very different tiling from that complete development
44 HOME AND SCIIOOI. TRAJNINQ.
of llic wlidli' l)ciiii^ w'liirli plarGs one oil tlif^ highest
round of the hidder of civilization and enal)le.s him to
aid others in reaching the same desirable point, — in
other words, which places him where he can see at its
best the nniverse in which God has placed him, and is
able to recognize the fact that the highest good to which
any created being can attain is the power to perform
at its best the work assigned him in the world. Not
gauds for show, but tools for work, are the things he
obtains from his education. The place where a woman
shall use the discipline she has obtained is not always
in the nursery, but there is surely no place whore it is
needed more; and, if the nursery is her own, she should
think well before she puts another in her place there
and gives her strength to other duties.
Section VIII. — Hinderances in her Way.
Tt is not always the mother who gives the first bias
of character ; but the exceptions are rare. The father
is occui)ied elsewhere, and the work of these formative
years is foreign to his hand. Wherever a mother is
too mucli devoted to society, or otherwise incapacitated
for this care of her child, it is her unquestioned duty
to employ some educated and thoroughly right-minded
person to take her place. Whenever children are left
to the care of servants, — of the class least educated and
least competent to educate, — it happens that just so far
the race is toned down, and fails to reach the average
of intelligence and excellence it has a right to claim.
It would be difficult to calculat€ the evils which arise
from tiie too common indifference to these first years of
child- life. But we are met here by the assertion that
HINDERANCES IN II RR WAY. 45
the niotlier's position is one of too iniicli dignity and
responsibility to have her time frittered away by these
petty cares.
A little observation, however, will show that the
mother who holds in the highest estimation her dignity
and responsibility as the head of her household is pre-
cisely the one who performs most fully her duties to
her children. The point in her character is that she
recognizes completely the responsibilities of life. She
is avaricious of time, and puts it out at interest, and
thus always has enough for her needs. If such a
mother really finds the duties of her position so onerous
that she is obliged to delegate a portion of the charge
of her children to others, they will not be left to the
care of ordinary servants, but a competent j)erson \s\\\
be selected to share with her this highest of all respon-
sibilities. No idle or thoughtless woman ever makes
herself respected in positions of the highest honor and
responsibility, and no thoughtful woman neglects her
children. The opposite extreme to the position just
mentioned is found where the mother is her own ser-
vant, and in addition to the care of her children per-
forms all her own household duties. Numbers of edu-
cated women in the country hold this position, and
among them are some who have rarely been excelled
in the performance of their duties as mothers. But to
perform faithfully the difficult duties of such a position
requires physical as well as mental strength. There
must be times in such cases where the child is neglected,
or at least left overmuch to himself; but a wise man-
agement forestalls any pei'manent evil from this course,
and the child soon learns to be helpful, so that a tie-
46 IKiMi: AND SCHOOL THAI M NO.
Ii<::lit('(il workinj:; coiiijciiii'Hisliii) Ix-tsvctii iiiutlior aii<l
child can l)o established. In the lighter hours of woik
the duty of instruction goes on, and the ])()sitif)n of
such a child is far happier and n)ore hopefid than that
of one left entirely to servants, or in whose case the
mother's love of society and anuisenient outweighs her
interest in the welfare of her child.
Section IX.— Children as Ministers to the Mother's
Pride.
With many mothers their love for their offspring
seems to take the form of personal pride in them.
Their chief ambition is that their children should
look better and dress better than those of their neigh-
bors. In this they seem to lose sight of the influence
this petty ambition will have on the child. To culti-
vate a desire to excel in dress is to cultivate an excel-
lence of the very lowest order, very much of the same
grade as the desire to excel as a pugilist; for in each
case there is no excellence at all, except in the beating
down of others. This phase of weak and envious am-
bition is perhaps rarely found in families that have
passed through many successive generations of culture
and refinement. Appropriate clothing comes to be an
accessory of their position, not an end. It is chosen
for its seemliness and comfort, and bears no relation to
the display made by others, while this attempt at out-
doing one's neighbors, so often practised by parents
and cultivated in their children, appears rather a qual-
ity of those who, as Taine says, '" make gold glitter
and silks rustle for the first time." However this may
be, it is a seed easily sown in the mind of the child,
CHILDREN AS MINISTERS, ETC. 47
and the result is like that ot" sowiiiii; taies ainoiiy; the
wheat: the weeds grow and the wheat dies out. Envy
is based on malice, and this desire to outdo others in
display is essentially malicious ; and when we have
implanted malice or envy in the heart of a child we
have gone far to destroy his chances of substantial
happiness, for this is based upon far other grounds.
A beautiful fabric is a work of art, and an admira-
tion for it is as legitimate as an admiration for the
works of nature ; but we may enjoy this beauty quite as
much in the possession of a friend as in our own, ])er-
haps even more, for that grows tame which is con-
stantly before our eyes. This is not true of nature, for
nature is ever changing. We have a new landscape
presented to us continually in the varying play of light
and shade, while works of art remain the same, or de-
teriorate. Thus there may grow up a quiet love of
beautiful garments which has no relation to a love of
finery or display. The person who has taste enough
to love what is really beautiful for its own sake will
also have taste enough to discard what is inappn)priate
in dress, and will never overlay one beautiful thing
with another till that which we call finery results.
Such a woman will have nothing ambitious in her
dress. However rich, it will bo simple and suiUible,
and a beautiful thing will be just as much admired in
the possession of another as in her own. A real love
of beauty is too enjoyable to be disturbed by envy.
The motluM', then, who cares for her child mainly
because it ministers to her own pride and love of dis-
play is not only neglecting the instruction it is her
province to give, but is directly importing evil instrui--
48 llDMh: AND SC'JIO(JL TltMSING.
tioii, ol" :i kiiitl liable to (letriicl largely fVoiii llit- pure
happiness life has to offer. If we wish to make the
best of our charge, we imist aiiu to keep the weeds out
of the soil.
The human raee has given itself to the cultivation
of pride and envy and contempt long enough. It is
time that some worthier text-book of the emotior)s
should be invented.
Section X.— Fixed Results from given Methods of
Instruction.
In the absence of statistics, it is difficult to say that
a given course of instruction is sure to bring about a
fair average of fixed results; and yet there are schools
of which this may well be said. Those who are on the
watch for valuable instruction know them. Their
leaven is abroad in the land. " She is a graduate of
such a school," we hear some one say ; and it comes to
us as an explanation. The schools of the Jesuits are
said to have turned out men who were stamped with
their exact pattern. True, it is said that all individual-
ity was stamped out. But this fact gives a suggestion
of the power of instruction over the young mind, and
the power which showed itself so distinctly here shows
itself with equal certiiinty, though with less formality,
in other schools. The impulses of the highest morality
are exercised in freedom. They are the motive-power
of an individual growth, and, once implanted, grow
with the full fresh force of individual life, not with
the dead forms of an organization. Where they show
special vigor, we are usually able to detect the source, to
know the tree which bears such fruit. It often occura
FIXED RESULTS FROM GIVES METHODS. 49
in the experieiK-e of" a teacher that one ri<j:ht-niinded
pnpil after another comes from tlie same family into
bis care. The soil of the mind is well pre[)are(l for his
hand, there are few or no weeds to be rooted ont, ami
when the teacher comes to know the })arents of such a
family the {)henomen()n is explained : the first years of
life have not been wasted.
Where several members of the same family have
risen to positions of unusual influence and respect, it is
pretty certain either that the mind of the mother was
of the same substantial make, or that the father has
stepped in during the early life of his children to
fill her place. It is sometimes said that the French
are frivolous in character and unfit for self-govern-
ment,— that since the Revolution no form of govern-
ment has lasted more than twenty years, — that they
are brilliant in theory but weak in practice. So far as
this is true, may it not be due, at least partly, to the
fact that the children of the educated classes are cared
for almost wholly by peasant-women, unfitted, by their
low average of civilization, to lay the foundations of
substantial character? Granting the importance of
these first years, would not this practice naturally re-
sult in very nearly the phase of character imputed to
the nation ? For it is not the native, brain-power that
is affected during this |)eriod, but rather the bias to-
wards sound practical thiidcing and noble puri)oses in
life. " Tlie French live to please themselves," says one
of their own writers, contrasting them with the Eng-
lish. I>ut tiic French have given us some of the best
work that has been done in the world ; there is no
lack of brain-|)ower among them,
erf 6 ♦
50 HOME AM) SCHOOL mAiMsa.
CHAPTER III.
FIUST SIMPLE LESSONS.
Section I.— A Day of Work.
Let us take tlie case of a young mother wlio keeps
but one servant, and who recognizes the necessity, as
well as the delight, of the almost constant companion-
ship of her child. These conditions will give the average
of difficulties in her way, as well as the average power
of overcoming them. She requires the services of the
servant occasionally in the nursery, and, of course, ex-
pects to perform a portion of the household duties her-
self. As yet the family is small, and with system the
duties of the household are not over-burdensome. The
babe has probably had his bath before breakfast, and is,
as far as possible, in ordef for the day. After break-
fast, while the maid puts the dining-room in order,
the finishing touches of what the mother has to do in
parlors and nursery will be completed, and she is ready
for such work as the kitchen requires at her hands.
Probably she prepares the dessert, and possibly she is so
fond of ijood bread tliat she makes it herself. At all
events, she examines the household supplies every morn-
ing before giving her orders for the day. We will sup-
pose her cooking-})autry to be amply arranged for the
purpose, and that, while she works at one moulding-
shelf or table, the child can be tied in his high chair
close beside her at another. He will thus have the
A DAI OF WORK. 51
amusement of watcliiuir her motions, uiul tlie benefit of
her cheery talk, with vvhicli she persistently endeavors
to teach him at the same time cheerfulness and good
English. We will suj)pose also that the child has been
already taught that he can never obtain an article he
wants by crying for it, — that in screaming for that
which has been refused him he merits punishment and
not reward. The quiet "no" must be final. And
the " no" must be quiet. If it is vociferous, as we are
sorry to know it sometimes is, it probably throws the
child into a fit of })assiou or of nervous excitement
from which he may not easily recover.
The mistress has thus the advantage of overseeing
the work in the kitchen, as the dish-washing and other
tidying uj) of the house goes on, and the servant is at tiie
same time benefited by watching her own tidy methods
of work. It is to be hoped that she is not now for
the first time learning housekeeping. If she is, her
lack of skill and her occasional mistakes will make it
somewhat of a burden to oversee servant and child at
the same time that she is performing duties by which
she is still puzzled. But if she has planned wisely she
will ah'eady have gained both experience and skill in
her housekeeping duties before she undertakes the more
ditlicult task of learning by experience wise methods
of training her child. For various reasons, it is better
that she should take iier child witii her while she does
this work, rather than wait to do it while he takes his
morning nap. If she waits, the lire linrns low and be-
comes clogged, and fuel is wasted in keeping it at the
right point. The orders for the day have to l)e made
before she has overlooked her present- supplies, and she
52 iioMi-: AND scriooh TUMMSn.
loses the opportunity oC seeing how tlie morning work
i.s done iu the kitchen and giving the occasional hints
that may be required. And while she has the physical
freshness of the morning to sustain her, she get.-" this
work out of the way. ]jesides, the child is interested
in heing taken out of the room in which he is con-
stantly kept, and the nursery refpiires thorough venti-
lation at this time. Her cooking will pivjbahly need a
little more time from the occasional attention she gives
to the child, in which, if need he, the servant should
be trained to assist; but there will be time gained in
the end, for she has turned in her own work as a source
of amusement to the child, and has saved herself the
worry of waiting wearily for his hour of sleep to come.
Then, if she completes them while the freshness of the
morning remains with herself and the child, she can
rest while he sleeps, as she requires to do. For if there
is anything in which she should carefully preserve a
fitness for her duties as a mother, it is in the matter of
health. Her child's health, both of body and mind, at
this period is dependent upon her own. li^ the whole
of the family sewing is to be added to her duties as
housekeeper, she will find it desirable to content herself
with plain work ui)on substantial goods. Few things
will tell more decidedly against her judgment than the
ornamentation of frail and worthless goods. Showy
garments combined with lack of cleanliness will give
the same impression. Any extra labor for which she
has time can be given to insuring the scrupulous clean-
liness of substantial and appropriate garments. An air
of respectability and independence is thus given which
no one can mistake.
A DAY OF WORK. 53
The necessary morning work of the house is thus
completed at an early hour, and it is possible that a
morning drive may he in order, in wliieh both servant
and child can partici})ate. In a city home, where the
business of the husband is down-town, so that the din-
ner-hour is of necessity late in the day, this can fre-
quently be arranged, as the lunch of mother and child
requires but little time. If she is in the habit of driving,
it ought to be possible to arrange this as often as once
a week, and in a small systematic family, not overmuch
addicted to gewgaws, it might be done more frequently.
Her necessary morning calls might be made at this
time, or it gives her an opportunity to gather up house-
hold supplies or attend to other purchases. The ser-
vant and child participate in the wholesome enjoyment,
and the mother's hands are left free, so that she can per-
form these duties without being absent from her child
more than a few moments at a time. She is thus free
from over-anxiety or haste to return home lest her
child should be ill cared for during her absence, and
the pleasant lesson-giving can go on at the same time.
Without the early completion of her own morning
work, and the oversight of her kitchen at the same
time, she probably would not be able to do this, at least
to secure the presence of the servant to relieve her hands
from the immediate care of the child. For in over-
seeing the work of the kitchen she luus secured not only
that it should be properly done, but also thai it >hould
be done in proper time. When she returns she (inds,
probably, that she has brushed the cobwebs out of her
mental horizon, and is far better fitted for the remain-
ing duties of tlu; day; and the child, tcxi, with his
b*
54 HOME AND SCIIOOIj TRAINJNQ.
ahimdaiit ab.S()r|»ti(jii oi" i'rcsli air, lias liberally iiKTca-ed
his capacity for good behavior.
"Then gayly take the foot-path wnj',
And merrily jump the stilo, boys ;
Your cheerful heart goes all the day,
But your sad one tires in a mile, boys."
Nursery Rhyme.
The young mother cannot overestimate the effect this
cheerfulness on her own part will have on the happy
spirit of her child. When we speak of a sunny temper
we use the right term, for it has just the kind of l)enefi-
ceut influence which the sun has on everything about
it, illuminating even the dullest labor, and enabling it
to carry its own burdens. Some persons would suj)-
pose that the mother who has her household and her
child to care for, with the help of but one servant, would
be too heavily burdened to find many hours of relaxa-
tion, such as has been mentioned. But, if she is inde-
pendent and systematic, she may frequently find such
hours. For, if she is independent, she will prefer
clothing plain and clean to any abundance of showy
garments; and if she is systematic, she will save all the
time and hurry and worry of disentangling unfinished
and disordered work.
There are few such drains upon the time and patience
as work left over to be done out of the proper place.
The heaped-up work of weeks that are past is a most
exasperating sight, as well to the careless person who
has nesleeted it as to those who have the misfortune to
hold any relation to her. If the daily duties laid upon
any one in her own household are ordinarily so heavy
that it is impossible for them to be carried through at
A DAY OF WORK. 56
the proper time, the first duty, evidently, is to change
them, — to reduce them to sucli simplicity tiiat (hey wiil
come within the limit prescribed for them by necessity;
and it is probably true that any one can do this who
has not the shirked duties of other people laid upon
her shoulders. For our own work it is easy to plan,
but for those tasks laid upon us by the world's shirkers
it is a puzzling matter to make provision. This puzzle
frequently comes to housekeepers in the form of an un-
faithful servant; but, on the other hand, the servant
may sometimes suffer from undue tttsks laid upon her,
and it also comes often from members of her own
family. All-important as system is, it need not always
form an iron rule. For example, if the drive we have
mentioned comes but once a week, it is important that
a fine day should be secured for it. With the excep-
tion of the weekly wash, most things can be deferred
when the day is fine and the occasion comes but one
day in the week. Suppose, in a family of four |)ersons,
the ironing requires an liour and a half for each })erson.
This would give six hours for the ironing. The time
it really does require depends upon the amount of trim-
ming placed upon the garments. But supjiose it to re-
quire six hours in a family like the one before us, an
active servant would probably finish it in one day, if
the day is given to her without serious interruption.
But if the day is fine and the weather generally un-
certain, it is better to secure the drive and divide the
ironing betwoiiu Tuesday and Wednesday. That which
makes for heallh and cheerfulness can least of anything
be spared in the household.
Returued to her home, her child enjoys the health-
56 HOME AND SC/TOOL TRAINING.
I'lil ii;i|t ill liis ciil), llic (liiui^^lils arc tiiriKMl on in the
kitchen ranf^c, and the ironinir, or whatever the work
tliere may he, j^oes sniootlily on. Her (h'ssert, pre-
pared in tlie early morning, sits nicely in the refriger-
ator. rh(! remainder of the dinner can be prepared,
or nearly so, witliont her help, and she ha'^ th(; quiet-
ing consciousness that evcrytiiing has s]ij)ped into its
pr()[)er groove for the remaining labors of the day.
Her sewing, lier reading, and her music can receive
their modicum of attention, and she has ])robably a
few moments to think what j)leasant morsel she can
next present to the understanding of her child. Usually
there is no better time in the day for holding his atten-
tion, or for giving his thoughts the drift required, than
when he is first waked from his morning nap. If he
is in health, he wakes fresh and happy, with his at-
tention unclasped from the things about him, so that
she has an opportunity to direct it as she chooses.
At this period she is teaching him, mainly, content-
ment and cheerfulness and language, the first as oc-
casion admits, — these being based mainly on love to
the Creator, as manifested in His works of earth and
air and sea and sky, — tlie last in his nursery-tales, ar-
ranged and selected as she sees fit, and in all the cur-
rent of talk addressed to him. She can add to these,
if she chooses, the worsted balls and othei's of Froebel's
first gifts. Her work is very much like that of the
vine-dresser. She watches at firet the proper feeding and
the opening buds, but presently the tendrils appear,
stretching in one direction and another in their aj)peal
for support. They are reaily to cling, as we have
said, to any support that is otiered, good or bad ; and,
THE COXSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT. 57
if none is offered, the soft tendrils roll l)ack upon
themselves, and become a gnarled and tangleil mass,
useless, nay, worse than useless, the vine falls to the
ground, its wholesome growth ceases, and it becomes
a dwarfed, unsightly thing.
Section II.— The Consequences of Neglect.
It is just here that the mother most frequently fails
in her duty. This stretching out of the tendrils is
like the ap|)eal of the child's understanding for sup-
port and assistance from her own mature mental powers.
He shows it in the constant questions which are poured
out from his eager mind. She has led him forward
into what is to him a wonderland indeed. He stan<ls
upon a threshold from which a multitude of paths, de-
lightful or dangerous, as the case may be, stretch out
into the world. Shall she leave him there to find his
way alone, or shall she satisfy herself with a cold pro-
hibition here and a cold recommendation there? The
prohibition and the recommendation are to him alike
unexplained and inexplicable. Until the power of
speech came to him, he has studied by himself, and
has made what are to him wide discoveries. He has
thus gained some confidence in his own understanding.
You cannot make him believe that soft is haid, tli;it
round is square, that black is white. And when he is
met on every hand with prohibitions and recommenda-
tions that carry with them no hint of a reason, he is
seized with a desire to find a reason for himself. He
wanders off in the pursuit which his mother has unwit-
tingly imposed upon him, — of taking care of himself
mentally. But he is still looking for sympathy and
58 HOME AND SCI 100 1, TUAIMNG.
assistance. Those in the paths she has so wisely antl s<>
unwisely recommended — wisely in choice, unwisely in
manner — are busy and happy in their work. 'iMi< v do
not want him. They have never laid it down as a
portion of their duty to take up and lead in the pleas-
ant ways of mental growth those children whom their
own mothers have cast out upon the highways, reliising
to ten(;h them. But those who fill the path she has
prohibited are neither busy nor happy in their work.
They do want him, as they want anything with which
they can amuse themselves for the moment and which
can then be cast aside without further trouble. So,
unless some accident comes in to save him, it becomes
almost inevitable that the wanderings of this neglected
child will be in the forbidden paths. His mind is
eager and active; it cannot be stayed unless it is para-
lyzed. But, in the blind appeal of the understanding
for help, it has found opportunity to attach itself only
to those who were also blind. And when the child
grows older, and feels the penalty of his evil choice, he
rails at the world as one which has no meaning in it, —
one in which the world within, with its clear laws of
right and wrong, its ideal good, and its appreciation of
all beautiful things, whether ideal or external, is wholly
at variance with the outer world, in which evil seems
to run riot. This beautiful vine, with its once-appeal-
ing tendrils coiled back harshly upon themselves, is in
little condition now to accept the support the mother is
so late in giving it.
HIS MENTAL WANTS MUST BE SUPPLIED. -39
Section III.— His Mental Wants must be Supplied.
This motlior, wlio wiis so nuich delighted when her
child'.s thoughts first i'oiind utteranee in words, — words
which were only the preenr.sors of liis eager question.s,
and which were given liim that he might find help in
the growth of his nnderstanding, — is she to stop here
and refuse to give him the needed help? refuse to
mai\e it the prominent duty of eaei) day to answer his
question.s, and to put his mind on the right track for
a.sking them? She has taken long walks through the
world's pleasant fields of knowledge, and has come
back, we may hope, laden with fruit and flowers. And
shall she refuse a share of these to her child? Shall
she refu-se the time necessary to select from them such
as are suited to his daily growth? "But," .says she,
" he does not know what it is that he wants : he is
crying for the moon !" Very well, then, give him the
moon. He is ]>robably not crying or calling for any
material thing. What he wants is that his mental
activities shall be fed, that he shall know al)out that
which excites his wonder. A few minutes' pleasant
talk about the impossible thing, and he is satisfied. If
it is an impossible thing, — that is, one beyond his
reach, — that is ju.st the thing he wishes to know. If
this is not true, it is because he has been started wrong
in the first training given to his under.standing. The
child is far better pleased with the flower which his
mother holds in her hand while she i)oints out its
beauties than with the one he is allowed to seize and
<'iiish l)efore he has gained a glimpse of its |)erfectioiis.
Indeed, the attcm[)t to seize and crush it shows that he
(]() //O.I/a; AM) S('II()()L TllAIMSa.
luis l)cen trainetl to expect iiotliing better fVoiii it, A
few futile attempts to grasp the tnoonbeatns as they lie
on the window-sill or the veranda floor, a lifting of
the child himself into the flood of light and hack into
the shadow, jjointing out the difference in the color of
his clothing in the two cases, and he has a new source
of amusement, which is certainly what he was seeking.
He no longer cries for the moon — he lias it, it has
come down and embraced him. " Where is the rest
of it?" asks the child, when he sees the new moon.
" Why, it has been away, and it comes back a part of
it at a time. You can watch to-morrow, and the next
night, and see if the rest comes back," is answered.
The child may go far astray in his questions, but
through them we discover what is in his mind. What
he really demands is a knowledge of the things about
him, and he will pursue his search whether we Jtssist
him or not. What we insist upon is that he was placed
helpless in his parents' hands in order that their expe-
rience might assist him in gaining correct knowledge,
and that he cannot safely pursue his search without
their assistance. Mental neglect at this period means
starvation, and consequent disease; and what can we
expect from these but stunted growth ? Learning false-
hoods in the place of truth, stirring up unwholesome
facts with no wholesome ones to correct them, he be-
comes, when the school-room opens for him, a very
unpromising candidate for success in school-life. It
would be well to examine this neglected child when he
is ready for the school-room, — not for the purpose of
finding anything that will aid in his school-work, but
to take account of the rubbish that really exists in his
HIS MENTAL WANTS MUST BE SUPPLIED. (]1
miud, to find what he is thinking about. The mother
does not know. She probably knows something about
his health and his manners, but the chikl she has neg-
lected does not confide his thoughts to her. But even
if one had taken account of this unwiiolesome growth,
it would be very difficult to get rid of it. It has taken
root in the virgin soil of his mind, and clings there
with its first rank vitality. The task of supplying the
child's mind with wholesome food for thought is as
simple as that of supplying his body with wholesome
food and air. The materials are on every side of us.
A child of fifteen months, after a prolonged period
of gray days during a stormy winter, entered a room
where a long stream of sunlight flowed over the carpet
from a window. She immediately began to run along
this stream of light, and on turning saw her shadow
and stopped. She was encouraged to run on, so that
her shadow would move before her, and to extend her
hand so that its shadow was also distinct upon the floor;
and for many days she amused herself in this way,
calling the shadow by her own name, and tracing the
pattern of the curtain where it obstructed the light.
When the spring came, she would stand in a portion
of the veranda which was well shaded with vines, and
watch the play of the leaves and sunshine on the floor
with a quiet, liappy smile. She had traced these things
partly to their causes, — she knew something about
them. But the interest at first shown would have been
very fleeting unless some effort had beeu made to hold
it in its place long enough to make an impression.
When we see a child flighty and (•a|)ricious, gras|>iiig
at everything and pleased with nothing, we cannot but
62 HOME AND SClKjnL TRA1AL\(J.
lliiiik that no effort has been made t<^) fasten its attention
upon ohjeets of interest, or that, if attempted at all, it
has been done in some slight, unsatisfactory way whi(!h
entirely failed of its object. The impatient child will
strike from his nurse's hand the worn-out toy that has
been presented to him for the liiindredth time, while
at the same time he will climb up with womlering
interest to look at the inside of his father's watch. He
is weary of having the same (hill lesson constantly pre-
sented. For this reason, building-blocks, or whatever
will give a variety of forms, are valuable toys for chil-
dren. But even here they need occasional assistance
until they can vary the forms themselves. There is
much time and strength wasted in the school-room from
inattention and lack of interest on the part of teachers,
from lessons lightly given. But we hardly expect the
mother, with all her love and anxiety for the welfare
of her child, to fail in this way. " But," says the
mother, "it is imj)ossible for me to spend all my time
in answering my child's questions, as he seems likely
to demand." Yes; impossible, and improper. The
child that is kindly treated will make no such demand.
When he sees that an effort is made to answer his ques-
tions so that he shall understand them, that pressing
work is sometimes put aside that this may be done, he
will not be slow in responding to this reasonable treat-
ment. When he sees that room is made by his mother
for the gratification of his wants, he will be ready to
follow her example, and make way also for the wishes
of others, unless in those cases wiiere he has been
allowed to consiiler himself master, — cases so bad that
no rules can be srivon for instruction under then. In
WHAT SHALL THI-l LESSONS HE? ^3
tlie.se aflec'tionate concessions the mother will tind the
greatest possible lightener of her burdens. It is not
true that children are altogether selfish. Love is devel-
oped in them as early as selfishness, and, though their
feeble reasoning powers render it difficult for them to
see from another's stand-point, they are not rcniiss in
showing their affection when they do see. It is only
among selfish people that children are altogether selfish.
Section IV.— What Shall the Lessons Be ?
The child will readily understand that he is not to
ask questions when strangers are present, or when the
mother is occupied with absorbing work. If she is
systematic in the division of her time, it will be much
easier for the child to understand when she is occupied ;
and .sometimes a very little child will save the ques-
tions he is eager to ask until such time as the mother
has laid aside her busy cares and is once more ready to
give her attention to her children. We have seen a
verv voung child standing at the mother's knee with a
volley of these stored-up questions, waiting in patient
expectancy for them to be answered. The time for say-
ing " we don't know" to many of these questions comes
very early. " How did the leaves get inside the bean ?"
he asks when he sees the dry bean which was |)lant(d
in his presence a short time since push upward with
opened valves, bringing its secret to the light. And in
the brief explanation of what we do know with regard
to it, and the showing that this is the limit of our
knowledge, lies one of the mo.st important le.s.sons. It
gives him the first hint he receives of the wide distance
there is between our wi.sdom and that of our Creator.
f54 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
Siicli ('X|)lai)ation.s belong to a later |)crio(l tliati tlie
first two ycairi in the nursery.
Tlic motlier wlictse kindergartening work ninst go on
in the midst of her other duties will often find that this
is no hinderanee, but a lielp in her work. The work
itself may give constant suggestions and interest to the
ehild. But she must |)lan well. She needs to have it
clearly in her mind what ends she is to gain, and by
what means she is to work towards them. She knows
that she must teach him, as soon as she can make her-
self understood by words or signs, obedience, cheer-
fulness, courage, a warm love to all the works of G<xl,
and through all these, from first to last, a knowledge
of his native tongue, — a knowledge of the meaning of
words suited to his capacity. He will be ready for the
next field long before she has exhausted the fiirst. At
every door opened in his mind for the meaning of a
new word, fresh ideas come in; but no attempt should
be made to cram his mind with words or ideas that are
beyond his power to apprehend. The variations of
words similar in meaning, the range of terms connected
with the object he studies, will give a thoroughly intel-
ligible advancement.
USE AND ABUSE OF PARENTAL AUTHORITY. 65
CHAPTER IV.
BIAS GIVEN TO THE CHILD'S MIND.
Section I. — Use and Abuse of Parental Authority.
The obedience taught the child in these early months
is not a hardship, but a kindness. So long as his lielp-
lessness is dependent upon his mother for direction, he
must follow that direction. It is easier for him to
understand now that she knows best, and in his loving
dependence upon her he will come to understand. This
will ha easier if it is from the first firmly impressed
upon her own mind that it is her duty to enforce this
obedience. This certainty in her own mind will go far
to im})ress a similar certainty on the mind of the child.
There are certain things which he must do or must re-
frain from doing. If she has doubts upon any special
points, she must study them carefully and prayerfully
until they disappear, as they probably will, for this kind
of study has a wonderful effect upon doubtful problems.
A well-developed child of three months was very fund
of his bath, and when taken from it in the morning
would remonstrate so violently with hands, feet, and
voice that it was impossible to dress him without hel[).
The mother thought he was too young to punish, but
after puzzling over the matter for some days her hesi-
tation disappeared. A smart slap reduced him to obedi-
ence, and after one or two repetitions the child under-
stood and accepted the situation, and there was no more
e 6*
66 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAIN I NG.
trouble. Vory lifflo puDisliinent is nocflcfi at a lator
|)crio(l \}y children who learn early the duty of* olj«;di-
ence : I mean, as I have said, the duty of ol>edience,
not its necessity merely. The child's sense that it is a
duty will come first from his confidence in the love of
those enforcing it, afterwards from a perception of its
reasonableness, while undue sternness or severity may
lead a child to see the necessity of obedience without
understanding in the least that it is a duty. He obeys
from fear, and as he grows older and his fear diminishes
he will probably disobey as often as he dares, and will
perhaps attempt very early to remove himself from the
care of parents who have used their authority so un-
wisely. Runaway boys belong often to such families.
Not always, for there is another element in our social
economy that exerts its evil influence over our boys. I
refer to the low class of fiction which has spread its
poison so widely during the present generation. Its
influence is another proof of the great need of an in-
weased parental oversight of the young.
An English author, in giving an account of his own
heavily-burdened childhood, says that he was often
severely punished without knowing any cause or prov-
ocation he could have given for the punishment ; and
there are many unhappy children everywhere who could
say the same thing. They have been subjected to the
passionate moods of capricious parents, or to the " word-
and-biow" policy so common among the lower classes.
How can the mother know, when she leaves her chil-
dren to the care of domestics drawn from these classes,
or sends tliem to spend the first years of their life
entirely among them, to how much of this miserable
USE AND ABUSE OF PARENTAL AVTIlOniTY 07
" word-and-blow," or blow without the word, i)i>li(;y
they have been .subjected? or how mucli .sullenness
and resentment and irritability and low cunning have
filled the child's mind before her own influence is
brought to bear upon it? When the much-needed
confidence between the child and those who have
charge of him is once broken it is no easv matter to
restore it. He has become accustomed to unrca-on-
able authority, and does not readily accept the idea
that any control is reasonable. He has firmly c(Mi-
nected in his mind the ideas of authority and ill usage,
and he frames his conduct accordingly. Those who
make the eifort will find that it is not easy to dis-
abuse him of his ill-formed notions in this raspect.
In emphasizing the impropriety of leaving the moral
and mental growth of little children to th;.' care of
servants, I am not unmindful of the fact that we often
find servants whose affection for the child would guard
them against the most serious errors with little aid from
their understanding. But we must remember that we
have no class of native servants, none that have been
trained in any sense in the ideas of an English-
speaking jieople, and that those we hav^e from foreign
sources rarely have any ideas of service or any fitness
other than what they have gained during their brief
stay on our own soil. There are exceptions to this, as
to everything, but this is the rule. In this work of
training, the wrong way is that which is not the right
way, ancf the right way requires study.
The opposite evil to that of undue severity is that
of over-fondness and dread of infringing on the chiM's
righl:^, — a feeling carried so far sometimes that it may
(38 HOME AND SClHjdL TRAINING.
well 1)0 called a puliny .seii.siljility, 'J'lic child is lioL
ol" all to be fitted for his journey through the world,
and the traveller in the world's ways does not find
himself seated in the midst of a mass of air-cushions.
He is to be fitted to recognize the actual gowJ in the
world and to withstand the evil, and an over-cultiva-
tion of sentiment will not enable him to do either.
It needs keen eyes to recognize the good in the world
as well as the evil: they often masquerade in one
another's garments. " Look for the roughest stones,
if you want agates," called a traveller on the Rocky
Mountains to his companions. And some of the world's
best gems are thus hidden, in the valleys as well as
upon the mountains; while, on the other hand, a
great amount of evil is set with gems most brilliant to
the eye; and in each case it needs reason, not sentiment,
to pierce the covering. Some parents say, "My child
shall be reared wholly under the influence of love ; no
one shall frighten his tender spirit with stern or un-
kind looks ; he shall never know what a blow means."
A blow is certainly to be avoided, and the mother
may, and in most cases can, find other modes of co-
ercion which will stand most advantageously in its
place. But if she gives up coercion altogether she will
find that she is herself coerced, that the child's will
stands superior to her own ; and no good can come of
this kind of mastery. We have to deal with actual
and not with ideal human nature. Parents who at-
tempt to train their children in this way seAi to sup-
pose that the reason is developed as early as the will,
and that the child is capable of right choices from
the first, or thut llie aflection will always dominate the
USE AND ABUSE OF PARENTAL AUTHORITY. 69
will. Neither of these propositions is true. The chiUl
of strong nature possesses a strong will. He needs
this quality to push his purposes as life matures. And,
since the physical nature and the will develop before
the reason, the physical appeal is sometimes necessary.
When this is true, the more promptly it is given the
less frequently will it be needed. If the child obtains
a parley, he will insist on the belief that a parley will
conquer. He must not be left in the dark, however,
as to the nature of his fault. The child that is ruled
properly is always ruled in love, for the decision that
he shall yield to rightful authority is the outcome of
the highest love, — a love which looks to the future as
well as to the present, and which can give up any
weak impulse of tenderness for the good of the child.
But the idea that any show of parental tenderness can
always coerce the will of the child is not in accord
with our experience. It may succeed in a majority
of cases. It should always be brought first to bear;
but the child must know that, however strongly it
exists, a rightful decision lies back of it. The cases
we have seen of an attempt to rule by this excess of
tenderness have met with most discouraging results.
True, there have been children with whom nothing
that can be called coercion was ever necessary. There
seemed no blemish in the beauty of their lives. A
quiet indication of the parents' wishes was enough.
But these are exceptional children. No mother can
predict when a child is laid in her arms that it will
be thus free from the common impulses of human
nature. Those we have known have not travelled far
on the world's uneven ways ; there may be those
70 iroMJ-: AM) SCHOOL tiiaimng.
wliu liavc scon siidi cliildren ;^iu\v to iiiatiiritv. And
as I lie world progresses, and parents become more
alive to their parental responsibilities and their per-
sonal responsibilities, such children may become the
rule and not the exception ; but the time is not yet.
Section II.— Hints from Foreign Sources.
It' \vc are anxious to lift human nature to a higher
level, it is worth our while to glean from all sources
such hints with regard to the results of early training
as we can obtain. The Indian mother wraps her child
in swaddling clothes and binds him upon a board, where
he can do no harm to himself and cause little distur!)-
ance to others. She hangs him upon a tree, where he
swings among the leaves, expecting no answer to his
calls except such as the winds can give him. When
the winds are too fierce, she takes him down and sets
him upright among the scant household gods in her
wigwam ; or, if she wishes to move from place to place,
she binds him upon her back, and pursues her silent
way with him through brake and brier. And the child
grows silent, and passive, and wary. He grows erect
in form, but his tied-up limbs will hardly ever fit them-
selves to the varied activities of one of our American
merchant princes.
An Indian recently, in one of our Western Ter-
ritories, had six cows given him by our paternal
government. After keeping them a short time, he
gave them all away but one, "Too much work,"
he said.
The Indian child acquires also in his moveless infancy
a look of stern gravity, and a silent or apathetic accept-
HOW S If ALL THE RIGHT BIAS BE GIVES' 71
ance of the good or evil gifts of fortune, traits which
follow him through life. These traits must be pro-
duced in part by the stolid inattention lie receives from
his overburdened mother at tins period, but in the
extreme to which tiiey are carried they must be the
result of many generations of growth in the same di-
rection. Throughout these generations, however, the
bias must have been determined during the first months
of infancy. There is an old Indian myth that may
iiave been first an outgrowth of tliis trait, and after-
wards an aid in its cultivation. This myth is evidently
based on the theory of evolution, for it relates that tiie
Indians were at first bears, and went on all-fours,
grumbling and growling, with their faces drooped close
to the earth. But the Great Spirit grew weary of this
constant grumbling, and told them that if they would
cease their complaining, and let him hear no more of
it, he would set them erect, and they would appear as
men. So the bear became an Indian, and the Indian
never grumbles. The power which such a mytli obtains
over the spirit of a people can just as well be obtained,
in greater or less degree, by well-chosen nursery-tales,
A study of the groundwork of those sui)erstitii)ns which
have ruled the human mind would give valuable hints
for better lessons. The soil that grows rank weeds is
worthy to be cleared for grain.
Section III.— How Shall the Right Bias be Given?
It is not enough tliat we give general injunctions for
right-doing; there should l)e also special examples of
courage and noble action sinn)lified to their understand-
ing, which will sink into their minds and take root
72 HOME Ai\D SCHOOL TRAIMNG.
tlierc. ll iiuist be remembered that tl)(; iiijuiictiuus
given and the l)ias given may be totally opposite. He
is a successful i)arent or teacher in whom they fully
coincide. There are parents and teachers lavish in in-
jimctions who give no bias at all in the direction of
these injunctions; they rather repel from them.
But these images which are presented to the child's
mind appeal strongly to his love of moral beauty, and, if
not crowded to a surfeit, are almost sure to give the bias
de ired. It is better that the mother should herself
select these from her own range of reading, for that
which has most strongly impressed itself upon her own
mind will be most strongly impressed by her on the
mind of another. The very effort of selecting these
will be of value to her, increasing her judgment and
her power of observation in regard to the influence
exerted, — for in this she must learn as she goee, — and
giving her fresh power of discriminating between what
is healthful and what is injurious. The courage which
needs to be taught to young children is not the daring
of chivalrous action, but the courage of noble sacrifice
for others, the courage to endure, to meet disappoint-
ment, to accept life as it is given. The foundation-les-
sons on these points can be given here more easily than
one might suppose who has not made the attempt. The
more important lessons will come later, and the incip-
ient taste thus formed will aid in shutting out the bale-
ful literature which exerts so strong an influence in the
country. A prominent French author, in giving a
report on our system of public schools, says that pa-
triotism and love of noble action are kept alive by the
elocutionary exercises of these schools, in which heroic
JiOW SHALL THE RIGHT BIAS BE GIVEN? 73
and patriotic poems and speeches are recited. The
glowing love of heroism and self-sacrifice, and the cor-
responding disgust for cowardice and whining, found in
every human heart, have already been referred to. It
is better to show these to the child's mind in pictures
which present their beauty or deformity than to wait
till he has fallen into a fault in these directions, and
then to administer all the instruction he ever receives
on these points in a rebuke, against which his self-love
will rise up ready armed. Forewarned, and with this
innate sense of what is beautiful and what is contemp-
tible, he becomes his own teacher, and will gradually
correct himself when liable to error. Heroism is too
often understood to be merely a brilliant daring, a sud-
den show of dashing or reckless conduct. But it is
much more than this, and the more quiet pictures of
heroic action, if the impression is a clear one, will
prol)ably have the best effect on the child's mind.
These selections may be carefully suited to his natural
traits of character as they are developed, and should not
be too much pushed in directions where there may per-
haps be naturally an over-development, as in sensibil-
ity, for example. This is one of the points where the
mother can do so much better than any other person in
her own nursery, since she is with her child all the time,
watching the development of these traits, and she also
understands them far back in the line of descent from
which they came.
74 UOMI-: AND SCHOOL TRAIMSO.
Section IV.— Teaching of Morah.
It is folly to say tliat fliildren need no oversight in
the knowledije they gain at this early period, that it
will eoiiie of itself. What is it that will eome of
itself? The knowledge of the street or of the ser-
vants' hall, the knowledge of gossip, and vanity, and
envy. He will not have to go far to learn these:
the careful mother will find them quite too near.
But the knowledge about which oversight is needed
is intended especially to keep these things out by see-
ing that the carefully-cultivated soil sh*ll have scant
room for this class of weeds. It is true that in fam-
ilies where the daily life of the parents shows the
high principle l»y which they are actuated, — the thor-
ough self-control and the just consideration for others,
— the child will naturally imbibe much of the same
spirit, and grow up showing strong features of the
excellence of the family into which he has had the
good fortune to be born. But this does not come
wholly either from example or inheritance. Such
parents are sure to have, in the exact balance to
which their own lives have been reduced, a mode of
teaching which, if not formally systematized, is never-
theless systematic. They could not be what they are
without teaching to their children in one way or an-
other that which seems necessary. In this home in-
fluence is seen the difference between brilliant and
substantial characteristics, between outside work and
that which strikes to the core. Some people seem to
suppose they have brought their characters to the model
which they approve when they merely wear tJiese char-
TEACHING OF MORALS. 75
actenstifts in the eye of the outside world, without in the
least perceiving that this character is with them only a
holiday garment, never put to actual use. If the parents
we have just mentioned err at all in their teaching, it is
apt to be in too great confidence in the excellence of
human nature. They seera sometimes to forget that
if their own lives have been reduced to a delightful
balance, it has been done by personal etfort, and that
by no human being can this be accomplished except
by direct personal effort; that this is a world into
which children are not apt to be born with wholly
celestial aptitudes, and that no one can do this work
of curbing and controlling for another. What we do
for children is only to set them in the right path.
There is a mistake into which in these days very ex-
cellent people sometimes fall. They form the idea that
nature, pushing ever upwards in evolutionary develop-
ment, is constantly improving the human race, and thus
think they can do no wiser thing than to leave nature
to herself. The usual results of this decision seem to
prove that morality does not come within the range of
natural selection : at least it has somehow been largely
left out by these children in the combination of quali-
ties gained in this upward tendency of nature. To l:iii
to teach in all its nicety the code of morals to which
civilized humanity has attained is to leave a child mor-
ally just where the scientist would be left if lie were de-
prived of all text-books and all teachers, to study na-
ture from the beginning. An instance in point is given
in "Methods of Teaching," by Professor J. H. Hoose.
"A young man of excellent parts entered college. He
had adopted the theory that self-education is the only
76 HOME AND SCHOOL TUAISISG.
way to learning, and rofusctl U) consult or study lx>oks
in order to prepare his lessons. He attended tlie reci-
tations, observed very closely what was said there, and
depended upon his genius, or ' inner consciousness,' to
evoke from liiniself the knowledge he possessed. In
process of time he was graduated, and dropped into ob-
scurity. After five or six yt'ars he suddenly appearetl
at the office of the president of the (college. He desired
to submit to the president a law in physics which he
had discovered by his own unaided observation during
the past six years. If approved by the president, he
would publish his discovery. He had discovered * that
heat expands metals and cold contracts them.' The
president called his little daughter, and asked her,
'What is the first law in natural philosophy?' She
said, ' That heat expands metals and cold contracts
them.' Said the president, 'You see how many valu-
able years you have lost by neglecting to study books
as well as objects.'" "But the child's moral code is
within him," says one; "he will discover it for him-
self" The assent to a moral code is within him, — the
affirmation that it is right to do right, the love of
truth, and of right-doing, — but the details of that code
have been grown to through countless generations in
the progress of the human race; otherwise wdiy have
they differed so widely in different nations? God has
given us the love of truth that we might discover
truth, the love of right that we might discover the
right relations between man and man, which to some
extent must vary as circumstances vary. We believe
that we have the i)est moral code in the world, but
we have reason to think that some nations are in ad-
TEACHING OF MORALS. 77
vance of us in the care with which they teach their
own codes of morality to their children. We neglect
this duty in various points, and the lessons of filial
piety, of brotherly love, of kindness to inferiors, of
deference to superiors, of respect for age, etc., are very
rare or very lightly given. The parent may teach,
kindly or sternly, to his child the lesson of respect to-
ward himself; but it is a dry root if left here, if the
basis on which filial piety rests is not, in one way or
another, made clear. As the artist, by one stroke after
another of iiis crayon, builds up his picture, so we, by
one simple illustration after another, build up the image
we wish to impress on the child's mind. It is not done
in a day. It is presented to him now in one form and
now in another, but it gives a complete picture in the
end. Yet the child needs pictures from the life as well
as to the life. Very often moral teaching is weak,
and is placed on no right basis. We want muscular
morality as well as muscular Christianity, — something
that will stand amid rough usage. If the teaching is
weak or mawkish, as it sometimes is, it will never stand
the test of contact with the world. And when the
child sees that the structure to which he has pinned
his faith is washed away, he is apt to believe that
the foundation-pillars of virtue are gone.
A little girl who was quite inclined to question
parental authority grew more thoughtful and obedient
when she knew why it was that her father went away
early in the morning to his business and was often
weary when he returned at night. Such things are not
diflicult to teach, and it is not amiss for the child to
know them. We wish little children to be free and
7*
78 IIOMK AND SCHOOL TIlAISISfl.
li:i|i|ty, hut it is iiercssarv Jilso tlmt tlicy sliould imder-
sluiid tlic'ir relations to tliosc al)out tlic;ni. How cjin
we expect them to give up their natural self-love un-
less some trouble is taUen to make them sec the inter-
dependence of" human relations? The lessons are
everywhere at hand. The nest of the bird with its
hungry young is built, as if purposely, at our window.
The hen is yonder, patiently busy with lier handsome
brood. And the poor we have always with us.
Section V.— Of the Fitness of Things.
Both in animals and plants adaptiveness to their con-
ditions of life is one of the most interesting and valu-
able points the child can examine : as in birds the fitness
of the claws to clasp the limbs of trees, of the bill to
penetrate the bark or tlie cups of flowers, of the feathers
to keep out the wet and thus to prote.-t the yonng. A
feather dipped in water shows the last quality. And
in plants the child is set to discover what varieties they
are that love the shade, as ferns, pansies, fuchsias, etc.,
and thus to gain some idea of the surroundings amid
which they were first found. The variations which show
the wonderful devices of nature are endless. The
mother uses her ingenuity in turning the child's atten-
tion in the direction required. She says, "Annie, I
wish you to put this cup ()n the table." The child ex-
tends her hand for it. " Do you think you can take
it?" And Annie shows her surprise at the question.
" I wish yuu to take it in your hand without using
your thuml)." The cliild looks amused, and tries.
" Can you carry it without dropping ?" " Yes ; see, I
can carry it." " You could do without your thumb,
OF THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 75)
then?" Annie stands thinking. " No ; 1 couldn't put
on my shoes without my thnmb." " Very well : think
what else you would not be able to do without your
thumb."
On the morrow the mother has ready some iiints in
natural history. She calls Annie to examine the pic-
ture of a bird's foot. " A bird, as you see, has his
hand and foot all in one," says the mother : " how many
fingers has he?" And Annie counts. "Which is his
thumb?" "He hasn't any." "Very well, a bird
doesn't need any thumb, then ?" " That's his thumb,"
says Annie. "Yes; I think we can call it his thumb."
" What is it for? " Why, that is for you to find out."
And, as Annie has already learned some roads to dis-
covery, she is not long in finding out. " 1 know what
a bird uses his thumb for," she says. " Well, what Is
it?" " He uses it to keep him from falling out of bed
with." " Out of bed !" " Yes ; isn't the limb of the
tree his bed?"
In similar ways she is led to find out the meaning
of web-feet, of the long legs of the waders, of the peli-
can's pouch, or of the broad beak and cogged teeth of
the shoveller. The seed of a geranium is picked and
shown to her. "It is called 'cranesbill,' " says the
moti'.er. "See if you can find anything like it in your
natural history." If the seed of a wild gcrnnium is
found growing in some by-corner, it can be added to the
lesson. The habits of seeds form an interesting study,
and so on and on without limit. It is not so much
what we can find to do, but what we can Igave undone.
Where the families of friends are receiving: the same
kind of" instruction, when the children come together
80 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
llicy will <»r tli('iiist'lv«',s be ready to compare notes and
to pursue tof^etlier the same range of lessons, and the
pleasant occupation will keej) out the floating thistle-
down that sows thorns in the mind.
Such lessons in those objects in which the child is
interested from the moment he opens his eyes to the
light give the best of opportunities to correct any pos-
sible deviations from the mental symmetry whicii we
desire in him. When this work is commenced early
enough and carried on with sufficient care in all homes,
— if a thing so desirable should ever be attained, — the
army of " cranks," of which we hear so much, will
doubtless be diminished. If a child possesses any physi-
cal deformity, — a limb that is not straight, a tooth out
of line, an eye that is oblique, — even the most painful
efforts are at once resorted to in order that the offend-
ing member may be brought to the proper symmetry.
But any obliquity of the understanding is apt to be
looked upon as incurable, or passed over with indiffer-
ence. Parents and friends are often slow to appreciate
the extent to which such an evil may grow. The child
obtains distorted views of things ; the events passing
before him are snatched at so hastily that he forms the
most erroneous opinions, and his dreams and imagin-
ings are so mixed with them that the slightest shadow
will be rounded out into forms and attributes, upon
whose reality he will insist. ''What a little liar he
is !" says his father roughly, and the child's lip quivers
and his eves fill with tears. But the next account of
things he gives will be liable to the same distortion
unless some pains is taken to ascertain where he goes
wrong, and to remove the scales from his eyes. A per-
OF THE FITNESS OF THINGS. gl
si.stent recurrence of" lessons on similar objects until
the cliild knows the whole thing without danger of
mistake is the best remedy liere, the same exactness
being continued until a full apprehension of objects
becomes a habit of the mind. And the pleasure of
the child at this success will be no less than that of the
parent, though it may not show itself in the same way.
To })revent weariness from this necessary recurrence
of the same or similar objects, the lessons may be so
arranged as to become connected in his mind with some
pleasure that he enjoys, — not that the i)leasure should be
offered as a reward, but that the weary lesson may be
so placed in juxtaposition as to be overshadowed by it.
Such a child will be niucii more liable to find these
lessons wearisome than the one whose mental activities
are in their normal condition. And the ultimate aim
of these lessons is not the information acquired of the
forms and attributes of the object presented, or even
the knowledge of English gained in giving names to
tiiese forms and attributes, but it is the healthful
cultivation of the understanding. Common sense — a
clear judgment of common things — is its highest result.
This same conmion .sense applied to things out of the
common range is genius.* The lack of this heallhl'ul
working of the understanding — the greatest evil that
can befall it — is the dis|)osition to see things which do
not exist. This is the fruitful foundation of suspicions
and superstitions, of :ill the unreasoning notions that
can lead the mind astray.
Is it possible to suppose (hat children woukl be so
* See Chapter VI. iSection 111.
82 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAIN! NO.
thoughtle&s and cruel its tliey sometimes are if tlicso
lessons were given freely at the proper time? " Oii,"
says the indifl'erent mother, "they will come up all
right, as other peojile's children do." But they will
not come up all right. They may polish off externally,
so as to meet ordinary social emergencies, but they are
not all right within : there is no foundation in right
principle. It is a very strong person who finds the
way himself without having had precept or example to
guide him.
In attempting to give this right bias to the mind we
are not to do all the work for the child. We simply
set him face to face with the lesson he is to learn, and
his own mind does the rest; and the conclusions he
reaches for himself have the strongest hold in his mind.
Frequently the child's mind is found to be filled with
something which opposes itself to these leasous. It is
rarely wise to give them d, propos of some fault he has
committed. It is better to wait until the fault has
passed at least partly from his mind. It must be
remembered that one cannot teach who cannot interest.
Patience and observation are e^ential components of
this power to interest. The lessons should not be forced
into unwilling ears, should not be pressed upon the
child when his attention is absorbed in some other thing.
The mother who interests him thoroughly day after day
will hardly have this difficulty to meet. His attention
may be said to be at her control. But there are times
enough when he sits contentedly upon her lap or at
her side, wearied, perhaps, with his play, in which his
thoughts can readily be turned in the channel she
indicates.
CULTIVATING THE POWER OF ATTENTION. 83
These should be honest Icsson.s, with no attempt to
play upon the sensibility, such as the child will one day
learn to take at a discount. With the facts placed be-
fore him he will draw his own conclusions.
CHAPTER V.
THE MOTHER AS KINDERGIkTNER.
Section I.— Cultivating the Power of Attention.
The task of the mother is twofold : she is to con-
tinue the habit formed in the first months of life of
finding out the " who" and " what" of objects about him,
of learning the names of those objects and how to utter
them, by assisting him to further knowledge of this
kind, which he would not obtain without her assistance.
This secures wholesome mental growth. She is also to
set before him, as far as his mind is able to receive it,
a knowledge of the relations in which he stands to the
outer world, and that which, through these relations,
becomes due from himself to others, from others to
himself, — that is, the fomidation of wholesome moral
growth. Much of this last can be given better in child-
hood than at any other time, and must be given then
or the child is unfit for any companionship. As regards
the mental growth, it goes on in any case, whether she
gives it attention or not ; but a neglected growth is not
wholesome in the nursery, any more tlian in the garden.
If it were nothinu' nioie than that his attention is dis-
84 HOME AM) SCJ/ntJl, Th'AJX/yG.
sipiitoil ill |)ii.sliiii^- Ills eager desire for knowledge \>y
liiiiiscir, it would be evil enough. He seizes one thing,
and, uiiai)l(! without liclp to learn anything there be-
yond what i.s presented to the eye, throws it down and
tries another, until he has lost the habit of attention
which he will want so much when his days of study
come, and also the expectation of finding in these objects
anything that he desires to know; and through all this
the habit of flightiness and inattention grows on, until
the power of application he will need a little farther
oil is wasted.
As regards the fear of wearying the child by holding
his attention long enough to obtain an answer to his
inquiries, there is no doubt that prolonged attention
wearies ; but dissipated attention also wearies. The
fluttering of the mind from object to object without
iinding anything in whicii it is interested is far more
wearisome than any reasonably prolonged attention, as
we may see by watching the child, as well as by watch-
ing the movements of our own minds. If attention is
over- wearisome, why does the child sit so long over a
complicated toy, pulling it to pieces and examining every
part? If prolonged attention Is injurious, we must
take the toy from him, we must be careful never to give
him a toy in which he is interested. Dissipated atten-
tion is always wearisome to child or adult, except after
periods of active work or play.
The love of beautiful objects is developed in all chil-
dren in greater or less degree, and it would lie difficult
to find one who ilid not admire something beyond the
gay pictures of his toy-books, if his attention has been
turned in the ri<rht direction. And this love of the
CULTIVATING THE POWER OF ATTENTJOX. 85
beautiful is one of the phases of chikl-nature which
the mother can constantly use in cultivating atten-
tion.
There is also a wide difference among little children
in their power of attention. While one will amuse
himself persistently with the same objects, will stand
quietly watching the falling snow-flakes or the patter-
ing rain, or letting his eye wander in delight over a bed
of flowers, another flies here and there, scarcely paus-
ing for a moment of enjoyment over any object, and
wearying himself and others with his flighty unrest.
Where this quality exists to such an extent, it would
seem as if it must have been the fault of some one who
has had charge of him. The flighty young nurse has
cultivated this habit, and he has had no reason to expect
anything of interest when his attention was called to
the objects about him. But there is no need with the
young child to hold the attention to one point for any
length of time. There is time enough to interest him
in any object before his attention flags or becomes weary.
He will probably beg for much more than we are ready
to give him. Our object is to interest, but not to weary,
and these lessons are not given once for all. ''Once"
will not do for "all" with a young child. In much of
this instruction the mother does not place before him in
so many words the points she wishes him to see. She
sets him on the right track, and leaves the rest to the
sound constitution of his own mind. But where it
becomes incumbent upon her to point the moral, she
need not be discouraged if she sometimes finds that he
rebels against the conclusions drawn. His selfishness
and his conscience are at war, but he often rebels to-
8
ftf5 lli)ME AM) SCIKXjL THAIMSa.
day ai^ainst that wliicli lie accepts to-morrow. The
well-trainecl jiKlginent will at last conquei'.
If she finds him deficient in the power of attention,
she must rouse herself to correct as far as possible the
deficiency. It is an evil, wasteful habit of" mind, liable
to destroy alike his usefulness and his haj>piness, and
she needs to battle diligently against it. The fii-st
thing to be done is to add to the interest of the object
she places before him, — to let him know that there is not
only something that will reward him at first glance, but
that there is something beyond. The aim is to rouse in
him an expectancy regarding the objects presented, and
one which she never leaves ungratitied. If his atten-
tion is never called to an object except for the purpose
of turning it away from that on which it is already
fixed, instead of the feeling of expectation he ought to
have he is filled with resentment. She is not to be
discouraged by a few failures. The power of interest
and attention are there ; the thing required is to hold
them in place until that which they grasp is seen to
be of value. This hasty, inattentive habit dims and
breaks whatever images are presented to the mind. If
the difficulty experienced comes from a superabundance
of physical activity, there need be no alarm. The
health which is doubtless the foundation of this activ-
ity is too valuable a possession to be an occasion of
regret. The mother needs only to suit herself a little
more carefully to its times and seasons. A child pos-
sessing this kind of activity is not apt to be lacking in
intelligence, and, from the first ray of intelligence he
shows, she can, with care, bring his mental activities
into her gras]), so that he will enjoy the power of
INSIGHT INTO CHARACTER. 87
knowing as well as the power of growing, with which
his physical activities are busy. But she must avoid
mistaking the weak restlessness of caprice for this
buoyant activity. The one is to be conquered, the
other brought into proper bounds and cultivated for
future use. Such a child sliould have as early as
possible a room or corner to himself, where his activity
can have free play without harm to anything.
Section II.— Insight into Character.
There are few things a mother needs more than a
power of discriminating nicely the traits her child
exhibits. It is desirable to recognize not only the
form in which they appear to-day, but that in which
they are liable to develop to-morrow. For example,
she has here a pleasant, yielding child, who assents
readily to her wishes and is easy to control, and
there an obstinate one, who has great confidence in
his own opinions and resists with a will the argu-
ments she luts to offer. But by and by she finds that
the yielding child is yielding to the wishes of every
one else as readily as to her own, while the other,
into whose mind her own views of things have dropped
and taken root, is fighting for them vigorously, having
gained faith in them from steady investigation. An
insight into character should be cultivated in every
woman. She needs it before her marriage, because
without it she is liable to become the prey of the
most unworthy, and she needs it after her marriage,
for every reason. It may be said that this is a nat-
ural trait, not capable of cultivation. But that this is
not true is shown i'roni the fact that a wide accpiaint-
83 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
ance with tlie world always give.s this insight into
character to one not deficient in observation. This
familiarity with the world comes usually too late for
the purpose mentioned; but if it can be acquired in
this way, it can probably be cultivated by other means.
The reading of well-written biographies, and of lin lary
reviews that give a close analysis of the author and
his work, will furnish many hints in this direction;
and the best histories, too, contain a series of biog-
raphies. Indeed, a wide knowledge of history is one
way of obtaining a familiarity with the world, with
mankind. But these histories should be by the best
authors, — accounts of living men, not of the dead
slain on the battle-field.
Section III. — Time put at Interest.
It may be asked how a young woman can find time
before her marriage for an extensive course of read-
ing of this kind. A glance along the shelves that
contain volumes of the lightest fiction in our public
libraries sufficient to show their loose-covered, dog-
eared, and service-worn condition, a stepping aside for
a few moments to watch who they are that come down
the stairs with these shabby books in their hands,
would go far towards answering this question. And
if any young lady would look over the list of her
social duties and amusements, and cut otf all such as
can be of no possible use to herself or any other per-
son, and would cut off also such of the exactions of
dre,ss as pertain to these useless duties, she would find
a gain of valuable time, which, if put at interest now,
as it can be, would yield her in the days to come
TIME PUT AT INTEREST. gg
large returns of" honor and peace ; for an increased
capacity to perform the duties and overcome the dif-
ficulties of life cannot fail to give her honor in tiie
eyes of others and peace in her own heart. And this
is time put at mtcrcst. All efforts in the direction
of system and order are time put at interest ; all men-
tal seed-sowing which, when once rooted, grows of
itself into a harvest of insight and intelligence is time
put at interest, and that, too, in the best-paying bank
the world has yet known. It would be neither wise
nor necessary that she should cut herself off from so-
ciety. Amusement and relaxation are needed as well
as work, but solid enjoyment is found quite as often
in work as in amusement. But she should select the
best society within her reach, and only so much of it
as she has time and means to cultivate to advantage,
and during this cultivation her study into character
goes on. It is not in the quiet pools of society, how-
ever, that this study is pursued to the best advantage,
but on the broad current where strange ships come and
go. And the best helj) that can be obtained in this
direction is when the insight of great thinkers is brought
to our aid. This wise use of time will fit her to enjoy
the best of society, and render her a valuable addition
to it. If the mother is so unfortunate as not to have
cultivated society within her reach outside her own
home, she will soon have it within, for slie is training
her children in such a way that they will soon oflfcr
lier the best society that can be found by any mother.
8*
90 HOME AND SCHOOL TltAIMNG.
CHAPTER VI.
CLEARNESS OF IMPRESSION THE FAST FRIEND OF
TRUTHFULNESS.
Section I.— Recapitulation.
There are thus three special poiuts wliich the mother
must place before her in this early instruction of tlie
child :
I. That she is to lead him in the line of his self-
attained knowledge as soon as she can make herself
understood, watching as she goes for means by which
she may be sure that she makes herself understood.
II. That she rouses his interest, and learns from the
result of her instructions whether they are leading iu
the right direction, — whether she has adopted right
means to the ends she has proposed.
III. That the impressions given are clear, standing
by themselves and separated from all other things.
These are modes of securing the one important point,
viz., of keeping awake the child's natural love of know-
ing, so that it may not die of famine before his days of
formal study commence. The evils of inattention in
this respect are shown to bo that the child cannot of
himself obtain satisfactory answers to the questions he
is disposed to ask concerning objects and circumstances
about him, and therefore turns his attention to other
things ; that these other things are usually found to be
a pushing of his own selfish interests, and his powers
MISCHIEF OF CONFUSED IMPRESSIONS. 91
of mischief, in the house; and in the streets, if he is
allowed to pursue his love of study there, the same
things, together with the learning of all sorts of slang
and ill-conditioned knowledge, and the power of draw-
ing amusement from cruelty to animals, and even to
human beings.
So that, through this neglect, he is losing all love
of useful knowing, and is learning, not English, but a
miserable substitute for it, which will go far to prevent
him from knowing very nuich, and from ever making a
clear statement of what he does know. For the mass
of knowledge which comes to him must come through
a clear understanding of his native tongue. And, fur-
ther, that lie is filling the fresh soil of his mind with a
rank growth which it will take all the early years of
his school-life, if not all his mature life, to eradicate.
Undue severity and neglect always cultivate selfishness
in the child. He feels the injury and resents it, and
spends his mental energies in an argument for his own
rights, as opposed to those of others. The spirit of
antagonism becomes strongly pointed.
Section II.— Mischief of Confused Impressions.
Touching the third point a good deal of care is
necessary. A mass of confused impressions in the mind
of the child will rob the instruction of its interest, and
make the lessons almost worse than useless. For this
reason the lessons should be simj)le, and well adapted
to the understanding of the one child to who?n they are
given. No one can know as well as the mother the
stage to which the understanding of the cliild Jias ar-
rived. And she has the best means of ascertaining
92 HOME AND SClIOOr T HA IN I NO.
wlnlln.'i' the iiiij)r('.s.si()ii iiiiult; is cltiii" or conrii.sed. She
needs to push her questions until she obtjiins a report
from the child which shows how the knowledge she
has striven to impart lies in his mind. This is a thing
of far more importance than is the s|x;cial item of
knowledge she has aimed to give him. The under-
standing of the child is clogged and deteriorated bv a
continued series of dim and confused impressions. In
place of his eager inquiries there come discouragement
and apathy. He gets nothing of vahie in return for
them. They cease to interest him, and the report he
can give of them will interest no one else. It will
thus be seen that great injury may be done to the child
by a confused and carele&s teacher.
Section III.— Teaching Untruthfulness.
But the mischief does not stop here. Tiie child, in
his inquiries into things about him, is searching for
truth, but, not finding it, he becomes indiiferent. The
answers that reach his mind are unsatisfactory, but they
stand to him in the place of truth. He becomes tired
over the puzzle, and loses in a measure the power of
giving a f^iithful report of the objects jiresented to his
.senses. His imagination helps out the dim impre.'ssions
given, but on making his pieced-out reports he finds
himself constantly accused of untruthfulness, while he
hardly knows where the error lies. And in many cases
it is nearly as much the fault of the teacher as his own.
He has become accustomed to a half-knowledge of
things. The account he can give of anything which
has passed before his senses is altogether meagre and
incomplete, or is so colored by an untrained imagina-
TEACHING UNTRUTHFULNESS. 93
tion that it oversteps the boiuidrf of reason. The hal>it
grows as he grows, and he comes to be looked upon as
wholly unreliable. A strong mind would have cor-
rected the evil of itself before it reached this point, but
a weaker one, or one possessed of more imagination
than reason, will not. He is capable of originating the
story of the thousand cats.
It would be quite possible to a child who had never
witnessed a similar scene to transfer the cause of the
noise and confusion by which his attention was arrested
or his terror roused to numbers, rather than to a fury
which he cannot understand. Even with adults a scene
of unusual noise and confusion will often so dim the
powers of perception that they are unable to give an
ordinarily accurate account of what has taken place. In
such cases a correct report can be drawn only from
those who are unusually cool and self-controlled. This
coolness, this habit of unruffled observation, is a thing
worthy of cultivation in childhood, and the opportuni-
ties of doing this are not rare. Excited feeling will
always stand in the way of this accuracy, and with
children, to whom all the world is new, who can tell
what circumstances may have occurred to throw the
mind into a state of undue excitement, or to dim the
powers of perception ? An observing mother will be
on the watch against these states that obscure the mind
and tend to continued obscurity. Often the child's senses
are deceived. Unfamiliar witli the varied phenomena
by which he is surrounded, he becomes confident that
they have reported to him a certain phase of things.
And the '' Nonsense, child !" with which his accounts
are often received, not only wounds his feelings but
94 IIOMI-: AXD SCHOOL THAI NINO.
cniiCinns liis ()|tiiii(iii. lie thinks Ik; lias a ri^lit tu be-
lieve tlie evidence of liis senses, and lie Ijccomes first
(l()<rn-e(l, and then indilferent, and this indiireronee is
ol'teu a turning-point in his character. But if the
mother stops, as she ought, and goes carefully over the
ground with him to find where his mistake occurred,
and to correct it, he receives with deligiit the clearness
that comes to his mind. The mother who gives proper
care to her child needs to look beneath the surface.
During the draft riots in New York a delicate little
girl lived opposite a hotel or other large building which
was demolished by the mob. All day long she stood
at the window, looking at the progress of the fire and
the enormities committed by the mob; but, as the day
drew near its close, she dropped suddenly to the floor,
paralyzed, stricken beyond the hope of recovery. She
had been a silent observer. Was not this sufficient
proof that no undue excitement was going on? Who
could suppose that all her senses were l)ecoming palsied
with terror ? The world is full of the voices of chil-
dren, but we do not seem as yet to understand very
perfectly what they are calling for, and still less do we
understand their silence. Peculiarities of organization
often exist which are difficult to understand, but they
need all the more attention on this account. The lack
of power in any child to give a correct report of the
things he investigates, or of the matters that pass before
him, may be the fault of those who instruct him, or
it may come from some peculiarity of organizjitiou,
— dulness of the senses or of the receptive power of
the mind. But, whatever it is, it should be carefully
looked into.
CLEAR IMPRESSIONS. 95
Section IV.— Clear Impressions, and Accuracy in re-
porting them.
A long experience leads me to believe that such
cases can be cured. Not that the clearness of y-enius
can be given to the perceptions of an ordinary under-
standing, but that any ordinary child can be lc<l by
early instructions to accuracy in his investigations and
to the drawing of legitimate conclusions. When this
is attained, his clearness of percei)tion will grow as he
goes on, and his search for knowledge becomes more
and more attractive. This mode of study pushes him
in the right direction. He gets the truth as the reward
of his labor, or he gets nothing, and as he learns to
love it in special cases he learns to love it in general.
The moral influence of this kind of study is not to be
ignored. He is lifted above the petty meanness and
narrowness that leads to deception. This early study
of the works of God tends to nobleness and breadth of
character. Among the things he loves best, all is open
as the day. Even with the more vicious habits of men-
dacity, if they cannot be cured by correct early teach-
ing, it is probable that there is some abnormal habit
of mind, some iiereditary taint in this direction.
No one should consider himself a teacher who can-
not give clear ideas on the subjects he nt tempts to
teach. The natural curiosity of the child, which
prompts him to seek knowledge, asks for something
definite, and not for dimness and obscurity. The puz-
zled child is not the one who is interested, or who
makes progress, at least undl h(> is strong enough to
solve the puzzles for himself. And the teacher who is
96 HUME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO.
not sulFicicntly on tho alert to know where the ob-
scurity exists, and sufficiently wise and persevering to
overcome it, needs to be fitted anew for his work. But
when a school is filled with children to whoni no home
instruction has l)ecn given, the teacher may be so occu-
pied in working out the rubbish from the mind that it
will be long before any clear impressions can be received
there. If the mother has retained her own natural love
of investigation, and is fond of talking to her child, she
is pretty sure to constitute herself his teacher at this
period without any set purpose of doing so. But very
few who have not these qualifications are apt to set
themselves about acquiring a fitness for this work.
Tlie importance of doing this is not recognized. There
is a culpable indifference with regard to the first growth
of the child's mind. If we go into a greenhouse
for the purpose of selecting plants, the gardener will
say, "No, not that one; it has been too much in the
shade, and has become etiolated. You can never do
anything with that;" or some other conditions have
been unfavorable, and it is rejected. But he selects for
us fresh stocky plants, which, from the first putting
forth of their young leaves, have been under his careful
supervision. He sees that their conditions are at all
times adapted to the nature of the plant. Are the con-
ditions in which the growing mind of a young child
is placed of less importance to his future life than
those of the plants with which our summer walks are
adorned ?
Section V.— Fairy-Tales.
In the stories selected for the literature of childhood
care should be taken that they are truthful, that they
FAIRY-TALES. 97
are not such as the child will receive to-day and dis-
card with a feeling of resentment to-morrow. The pic-
tures of life which tliey convey must be real and whole-
some, based upon a just view of human relations, and
not upon a weak sentimentality; for only these just
views will stand the test of experience. Not that fairy-
tales and myths are to be discarded. Many of these
are truthful in the highest degree. Tales of the unreal
— parables, we may call them — seem natural to the
mind of the child, and are readily understood. Witii
a quiet self-complacence he sees through the transparent
veil of myth to the real image beyond, and Santa Clans
is none the less delightful because he can whisper to
his little sister that " mamma is Santa Claus." Yet
the story of Santa Clans and other myths can be told
in such a way as to become actual falsehoods. How
much confidence will a child feel in one whom he re-
members as having, not long since, insisted that such
myths are a positive fact? Nothing can be more short-
sighted than such an act in the mother, to whom the
confidence which should exist between mother and child
is all-important. There is a class of fairy-tales in com-
mon use which can hardly fail to do much harm ; and
they are those which are, perhaps, more popular than
any other, forming, as they do, the basis of long-drawn
dreams, in which the child's mind will revel for years,
and whicii give him thoroughly distorted views of
life. The prince disguised as a beggar, the fairy as a
decrepit old woman, is presented to the child's mind
in so many forms, and is dreamed over so constantly
during the years of childhood, that every tramp or ad-
venturer is apt to become, to the fertile imagination,
■& g 9
98 IIOMI-: AM) SCHOOL TRMMSG.
a prince in (li.sgiii.se, who is to plaee a coronet on the
maiden'.s brow, or lead the ambitions youth to (keds
of honor and renown. And if the mother finds her-
.self snrprised by an elopement, or a rnnaway, before
her children have come to years of discretion, it is
not perhaps to be wondered at when tliis unreitsonable
romancing is so popular. Most occurrences of this
kind are to be traced to the new class of fiction which
is so extensively read, but an appetite for this unwhole-
some reading may be formed by these earlier tales.
How can it be supposed that a young person will be
satisfied with the ordinary and sensible ongoings of
life who.se mind is feasted day by day upon the extrav-
agances of this high-wrought fiction ? If the mother
were to find daily upon her daughter's table a decan-
ter and gla.ss of brandy, she would hardly have more
cause for alai'm than she has when she finds each
day in the same place the newspaper or volumes in
which stories of this cla.ss are met with. The only
way we can see of curing this vitiated popular taste is
to cultivate the judgment in children; for any sound
judgment will reject such productions with disgust.
This taste, then, is one of the worst results of early
neglect. The foundations of our myths and fairy-tales
have been handed down to us from the early homes of
our race, and were perhaps better fitted to the times
when the daughters of the house lived in .'^eclusion
and the sons were under the constant tutelage of war-
like life, than to our present days. We have changed
our manners; perhaps it is time our fairy-tales were
revised.
HONEST TEACHING. 99
Section VI. — Honest Teaching.
We see on all hands how deep is the root which early
teaching strikes into the mind of the child. But it is
not everything which seems to be teaching that thus
takes root. That which lie understands, which he
knows to be true, which he handles with his own
hands, his own eyes, his own judgment, the precept
which is daily exemplified in the lives of those by
whom it is imparted, will remain with him. But the
lesson that was given only in words, the moral prece})t
that is never exemplified, will hav^e little foothold
in his mind. This teaching by contradictions, a high
morality by precept, a low one by example, will have its
effect according to the degree to which it is practised.
But a life of thorough insincerity, practised daily be-
fore the child, cannot fail to be most disastrous. There
are probably some minds that will find their way to the
light through the mid.st of this confused instruction,
but they are very few. In our attenipts at upward
progress it is necessary to set before ourselves, and of
consequence before our children, ideals of life higher
than those which we can constantly succeed in reaching;
there would be little upward progress without these
ideals. They are the step higher which we constantly
strive to take; but in this case the failure comes from
lack of power, not from lack of sincerity. The fault
lies, and is seen by the well-instructed child to lie,
with the imperfections of human nature. It is curious
to note how very soon a young child will understand
and join in a strife for self-control in his own feeble
way, acknowledging his faults of temper, impatience,
100 HOME AND SCIi(tOL TRAINING.
etc., and really conquering them by slow degrees. But
if tlio mother exacts from the child a higher standard
of excellence than she imposes on herself or expects
from the friends about her, the lack of justice will
readily be seen, and she will probably obtain no such
results from her instructions. There are mothers whf),
in their love and pride, expect their children to be from
the beginning patterns of every excellence, and sup-
pose that to accomplish this they have only to add line
upon line and precept upon precept, a mass of undi-
gested rules, without any attempt to j)ermeate the mind
with a love of them, and forgetful that the ebullitions
of child nature will not readily submit to the prim pat-
tern in their own minds, and that most of the civiliza-
tion their children will ever possess is to be taught them
between infancy and maturity. When such an attempt
appears to succeed, it is usually true that the pattern
is only a cover of the nature of the child, not an out-
growth from it; and in this case the lesson given is
one of deception, and not of excellence. The child
revenges itself in the nursery and the play -ground for
the staidness it has assumed in the presence of strangers ;
so that these pattern children come to be the dread of
their companions. Shyness is apt to be a quality of
children possessing the greatest loveliness of character,
consequently they are not patterns in the presence of
strangers. Whoever strives after excellence is con-
scious of his own imperfections, and this consciousness
does not create boldness in a child. The mother is
the guide in the real process of civilization, and she
cannot expect it will reach perfection at once.
MODES OF DISCIPLINE. 101
Section VII.— Modes of Discipline.
The slips and falls are very much like those of a
child learning to walk, and should never be treated
with .severity, except where the rebel will asserts itself.
There is no surer way to correct these errors of care-
le.ssne.ss and forgetful nes.s, of sudden ill temper or
selfishne.ss, than a kind and helpful eneouragcniont to
do better next time, — to guard again.st the tempta-
tion to do wrong. Yet some means will often have
to be adopted as a reminder, to impress upon the mem-
ory the necessity of caution. The penalty may be neces-
sary, but the encouragement must not be neglected.
When fits of passion occur, violent and uncontrolled,
the best resort of the mother is a light, ]>added closet,
in which the child can be placed, without the power
of giving or receiving harm, until he is restored to
sanity. Give him a heavily-co veered cushion, or some
other object, which he can pommel to his heart's con-
tent, if his feet are in agouy. He will not wear it out
very rapidly. Never close the door in such a case, or,
at least, never fa.sten it. It is better to leave it slightly
ajar, while the mother remains near, at her reading or
her work. He may be allowed to come out when he
feels better, which he will often do with a grim smile,
but no word ; and he should not be pressed at this
time. Later, when the smart is less, he will be able
to bear some reference to his fault. With many a
child it would be harder to l)ring himself to ask for-
giveness for his shameful outburst than to control his
temper. He need not be required to do both at the
same time. And really it is against himself that lit-
9*
]()2 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
has Hinnc'cl, lallior than against his mother. But the
mother should be on lier guard against hysterical cry-
ing,— a case in which the child may need close atten-
tion and careful soothing. It is ea-sily detected from
the choking and suffocation which attend it, accom-
panied sometimes by violent beating of the heart and
shivering. In sucli cases the child's health needs care,
and he should above all things be shielded from nervous
excitement in any form. Violent laughter, or plays
of exciting nature, must be avoided, and the mother's
attention turned to toning up the system generally.
To meet the child's anger with paternal anger is, of all
treatment, the most disastrous.
Section VIII.— Growth of Character.
There arc families of whom we may be pretty sure
that all the children trained in them, whether heir or
alien, will come out substantial, right-minded people.
And where this is true the heads of the family have
undoubtedly understood the springs of human action,
and the necessity of an early cultivation of personal
responsibility.
There are well-governed families, so called, where
there is no cultiv^ation of personal responsibility. They
are well governed simply because those in authority are
strong, and their rule is not one of cultivation but of
suppression, and is good because no one under them
dares defy their authority. Such a government,
whether in nations or in families, is good only in ap-
pearance. Under the white ashes a fire smoulders, but
is not quenched. Where the parents are strong the chil-
dren are likely to be strong, and strength repressed is
GROWTH OF CHARACTER. 103
apt to breed a spirit of defiance. There is no certainty
when tlie spring that held them back will be removed,
and the defiance that chafed beneath it will start np
armed for its destructive work. The growth of char-
acter is a thing we need even more than the growth of
intelligence, at least in the present age. We say that
intelligence, education, a knowledge of the laws of that
world of matter in which God has placed us, lies at
the foundation of all progress. And so it does. The
comfort, the material improvement, upon which civil-
ization is based, we receive at the hand of the scien-
tist. But if, side by side with this, we have not
strength of character, clearness of judgment, and steadi-
ness of purpose, our temple of progress is built upon
the sand. When the weak have the ascendency the
world goes backward. We may carry our knowledge
of the laws of nature so far as to light our fires from
the sunbeams, or bottle the rays of the stars for use,
but while bad men and weak, blind women are liable
to gain the ascendency they can give in a single month
all tiie improvements that the wisdom of ages has ac-
cumulated to the destroying hand of an uneducated
rabble. The best phase of the world's progress has
been wiped out again and again by the bubl)Iing up of
the muddy waters of a reckless mob. And this danger
will last so long as we neglect to give in our work of
education that balance created by a perception that the
moral world is interpenetrated and bound np with the
physical in such a way that only confusion and misery
can result where one is cultivated at the expense of the
other. Physical knowledge has no meaning until its
moral values are perceived, — until its facts are put in
104 HOME 'AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
place by :i porccjitioii of Uieir relations to one au(jtlier
and to the spirit l)y wliieli they are ruled. The moral
value is the answer to the problem. Conduct, action,
personal responsibility, is that which moves the world,
that for which the world waits. To heap up knowl-
edge that throws no light on these moral questions is as
if we should spend our whole lives in working at alge-
braic i)robleius that are never solved. As the world now
stands, x is morality, — the answer sought, — that which
balances the equation. The moment electricity is har-
nessed for the comfort of men, it becomes a moral agent.
What we need of education is that it shall place in our
hands the right clue. No education is finished that
does not reach this point. But even a limited educa-
tion, rightly managed, may reach this point ; and in
this work the cultivation of the judgment is the chief
factor.
CHAPTER VII.
ANALYSIS OF THE QUALITY AND INFLUENCE
OF CERTAIN MODES OF INSTRUCTION.
Section I.— Society Educates.
We say that society educates, and to a certain ex-
tent it is true that, with all the efforts the mother can
make, society is still in a great measure the educator
of her child. But this should only stimulate her en-
deavors. Society exists at different levels. Even in the
most licentious age the level of pure morality exists
SOCIETY EDUCATES. 105
among tlie tlioughtful and cleaivsighted few. It may
be pushed aside out of the air of courts or the ranks of
fashion, but its tendency will be to absorb those who
are accustomed to breathe the same pure atmosphere.
If we look closely into the history of the mor^t lawless
times, we shall find that this is true. The effort of the
parents, then, is to assure that level of society by which
they choose that their children shall be educated when
beyond their own hands. According to the hold which
home instruction gains upon the child's mind, the bias
it succeeds in giving him will be the moral level at
which he will naturally assimilate the education society
is fitted to impart. But to suppose that the upward
growth of the individual must stop at that level of so-
ciety which his age is fitted to give him, is to ignore all
progress. Out of the families where this home instruc-
tion is given at its best come the moral leaders of suc-
cessive venerations. The accusation of inconsistencv
in teaching the doctrines of that ideal life towards
which the tendrils of progress are forever reaching up-
ward, comes from those who cling to life's lower levels.
Without the vision of this higher life, towards which
all those who have the civilization of the world at heart
are striving, the hopes of humanity would be \Mxn- in-
deed. To strive and fail is better a hundred times
than not to strive at all. And parents, knowing their
own imperfections, should be satisfied if they find an
eager, loving child anxious to do well, believing that
the strength for well-doing will come as he grows older,
as it will, if he is not discouraged by exactions which
are quite beyond his strength, until lie comes to have
no faitli in well-doing. For many parents lay down
100 HOME AND SCIIOOIj TRAINING.
a standard foi- tlieir (^liildicii wliich iIk y wcudd never
tliink of imposing iij)on themselves, and endeavor, often
with no littl(! scvoritv, to bring them to it. " Oh, yes,"
says the father, "I may fall into error myself, but I
am going to see tliat my children are all right." This
mistake may toaoh deception as well as discouragement,
for if the child is not honest enough to be thoroughly
disheartened in his endeavors, he will soon come to be-
lieve that the appearance of well-doing will answer for
the thing itself. He then finds it easy to put on an
outside garment for the sake of winning applause.
Section II. — Teaching Vanity, Envy, and Self-Respect.
This love of applause is deeply embedded in human
nature, and it is, moreover, either directly or indirectly,
continually taught in a way that allies with it almost
inevitably the feeling of envy, and envy makes wholly
for selfish unhappiness. This phase of teaching should
be closely studied where it is considered necessary to
cultivate the spirit of emulation in schools.
It is one thing to bring a child forward to show oflp
his fine points, and quite another to exact from iiim a
quiet in the presence of strangers which is not imposed
upon him at other times. The mother has no occasion
to inflict upon her guests that work of instruction to
which she subjects herself in their absence. Neverthe-
less, little children must be taught that they are mem-
bers of the family, and that they are to receive and
return in some way the greetings of guests into whose
presence they come. It is just as much an injury for
a young child to be ignored by the guests who enter the
room where he is as it would be for any other member
LEARNING TO READ. ]07
of the family to be treated with similar neglect ; ami the
manners of children in families where the rule i.s to see
that they are not so ignored are incomparably .-;u{)erior
to those of children whose parents suffer their existence
to be forgotten when strangers are present. They thus
obtain an apprehension of their own position in the
social scale, and when they come to the border-line be-
tween childhood and mature life, the boldness or the
awkwardness which may come alike from embarrass-
ment is avoided.
Section III.— Learning to Read.
It is generally considered that learning to read marks
the first stage of positive instruction. And for the pur-
pose of obtaining knowledge from books — that to which
the term study is commonly aj)p]ied — the command of
a written language is of necessity the first step. But
our systems of instruction are apt to make the mistake
of supposing that the power to read fluently — i.e., to
name at sight the words placed before the child on the
page — is the command of a written language. But
even if this amount of knowledge will enable a child to
elicit information from books, what shall we say of the
one who is only able to stumble through the process of
naming words at sight, with little or no regard to their
meaning? It is here that the mother's early teaching
of language is such an assistance to the child when his
school-days are reached, in saving him from (he double
burden of learning the written form and the meaning
of words at the same time. If this has been made a
special point in Ikmuc! instruction, (he child comes well
furnished to the task of obtainintr knowledtie from
108 HOME AND Sa/IOOL THAINING.
books. He liiis also a liappy exj)iii<ii(;e of ilio i'act
that the world is full of siihjects of interest for him,
that the topics of the text-books are the things he
desires to know; for this study of" nature keeps the
mind in a receptive condition, as well as in one of con-
stant inquiry. The child is studying " things" according
to the injunctions of the old writers, and all " things"
rightly studied point towards the moral law.
Section IV.— Spontaneous Study.
The child has needed no written language thus far.
He can read the lessons from this text-book of nature
as soon as he opens his eyes to the light. Dr. Bain
says, in speaking of object-lessons, " Cause and effect,
in some form or other, is noticeable by and intelligible
to the youngest capacity, and even seizes hold of the
attention of its own accord. Nay, more, the youngest
mind will form an induction to itself of the conditions
of any startling change. Every child is a self-taught
natural philosopher in such matters as the fall of rain,
the wetting of the ground, and the filling of the water-
channels, and will reason from the occurrence of wet-
ness and of rushing streams that rain has just fallen.
To guide, rectify, direct, and forward this spontaneous
observation and reasoning is the purpose of tlie teacher
hi the lessons we arc now considering, with the serious
drawback, however, thafthe perfect form of the truths
cannot yet be imparted, and that on the way to the
perfect form the pupil has to pass through several
forms that are imperfect," These imperfections, how-
ever, may be made to rouse his anticipations with
regard to future work. " You will undei-stand this
OBJECT-LESSONS BY ROTE. 109
when you come to such a study," will often be said to
him. The lessons thus far may not have followed any
special order, the aim having been to direct the child's
spontaneous efforts, cultivating in him the power of
attention, of discrimination, and of judgment. These,
in the interested effort tiiey involve, are the best culti-
vation of the memory. The mother can, if she chooses,
avail herself of the plans of Froebel and Postalozzi ;
she should at least examine them with careful atten-
tion. Tlie plans of Froebel are admirably adapted to
the purpose they intend to reach, and Pestalozzi is the
author of the special reform in modern study.
Section V.— Object-Lessons by Rote.
The manner in which object-lessons are taught, how-
ever, varies widely. The work is sometimes so care-
lessly done that almost its whole value is lost. Take,
for example, the lesson in natural history from Prang's
chromos. The lesson is frequently given in this wise :
The teacher takes a card from the package, and asks,
''What is this?" "A bird." "What are these?"
" Wings." And so the different parts are gone through
and the card laid aside, the whole lesson consisting of
things which the child knew almost before he could
talk, eliciting no interest, and giving no information.
There is no comparison of the object with others of the
same class for the purpose of showing similarities and
differences, and thus teaching the child to classify ; no
pointing out of qualities, habits of life, or adaptations
to surroundings; nothing that could rouse the interest
or increase the range of vision ; and the lesson is given
with as much stolidity as it is received. If the mother
10
no HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
had no more interest than tliis in giving an object-les-
son, she j)r()l)al)ly would not give it at all, and the time
would be saved. This slipshod teaching docs not de-
tract in tlie least from those lessons which, in the
hands of a master, are so admirably given, and is only
pointed out to show how much easier it is for common-
place minds to teach words than things. The words
of the text can be committed whether any meaning is
attached to them or not, but in studying things some
application is needed.
Section VI. — Mere Memorizing.
The child begins life as a discoverer: the whole of
liis first year may be looked upon as a voyage of dis-
covery. The foundation-idea of giving instruction in
the form of object-les.sons to the young child is that he
may continue this voyage of discovery, of investigating
and drawing conclusions for himself, and of under-
standing what he knows. This is a very different thing
from committing to memory the words in which the
discoveries of some other and older mind have been
formulated. This committing to memory of words
may be a very easy thing, but his understanding of
them will depend upon his power to put himself so far
on a level with the mind by which these discoveries
were formulated, to seize the thought as it lay in the
mind of the writer whose words he memorizes. These
studies of the woods and fields, of earth and air and
sky, have nothing in common with a system of cram-
ming the unwilling mind, which produces an unwhole-
some mental development, to the injury of the child's
physical growth. But if the work is well done, he is,
THE BASIS OF MORALITY. \\\
in a measure, like the trained athlete, bringing all the
well-balanced powers of his mind to bear iij)on his
work. In carrying out this work there have been
placed before the mind those circumstances and rela-
tions which will call out his judgment and feeling with
regard to right and justice. Such circumstances are
occurring about us every day. Home comment upon
them is a great aid to the child, but this indirect stir-
ring of the soil is not enough.
Section VII.— The Basis of Morality.
It is wonderful to see how a class even of bad boys
will judge correctly as to the right or wrong of any
acts which do not touch them personally. It is only
where they do touch them personally tiiat they have
built up a counter- wall against their better jiidgnient.
We need to cultivate the sense of right in a child be-
fore such counter-walls are built. Rousseau tells us in
his work on education that the only moral law we
should teach to the child is that he should injure no
one. What a tame and melancholy principle is this!
How unloving! how hopeless! We cannot enter the
world without injuring some one. We divide the in-
heritance with our brothers and sisters. We entail end-
less care u})on our parents, such as it would be a breach
of this law to accept. We can fill no place of value
but another is left out of it. Rousseau himself saw
this, for he says that in this case we must have "as
little as possible to do with human societv, for in the
social state the good of one man must neccssarilv be
the evil of another." Therefore he is disposed to
recommend a solitary life.
112 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
Tlic foiiudatioiis of morality are found in the Imman
heart, — in the warm love which is (^ne of the fiist
manifestations of intelligence in the child, the ready
sympathy, the desire for pets, something to love which
is its own, and, later, the unfailing admiration which
is felt for courage, self-denial, sacrifice for the goo<l of
others or for an abstract good. This love of heroism
is one of the deepest principles of our lives. No higher
enthusiasm Ls ever roused than that which proceeds
from it. It is well to watch the dawn of this feeling
in the little child. If it is ever absent, it is in the lower
order of intelligences. And here it is the power of
perception that is lacking; when this comes, the admi-
ration will follow. These principles are the starting-
point from which we must teach morality to the child.
Their development makes up the moral law. They are
as much the bond which holds society together in all
its ramifications as the law of gravitation is the bond
which binds the planets together, — as much a part of
the Great Plan. Morality is an adjustment of the
relations of human beings to one another, so that the
riijhts of all these beings shall be regarded. It is that
portion of religion that applies to this world, and it
often happens that it is that portion of religion that is
least carefully taught.
Section VIII.— How to Study.
There is no royal road to learning, but there is a
highway pleasant to the feet, where the work pays as it
goes. An education is still work, and close work, but
it need not be overwork, — that exhausting work, of
which we hear so much complaint, in the multifarious
HOW TO STUDY. 113
studies of a crowded course ; that pressure and excite-
ment of examinations, where the student frequently
breaks down. This occurs, perhaps, as often to the
idle as to the ambitious student, to the one who has
wasted his time and left all his work to the last, and
who then, crowding his duties into a brief space of
time, is worn out, quite as much by the confusion of
ideas and anxiety of mind as by actual work.
There is also much to be said in regard to the un-
wisdom on the part of both pupil and teacher as to the
manner in which this work is carried on, — of the com-
parative amount of strength which is given to actual
progress and that which is wasted in various ways, — of
the lack, finally, of knowing how to study. The ten-
dency with a half-trained pupil is to attempt to commit
page after page of the text-book to memory, wasting
his energy upon the words in which the fact^ are stated,
rather than upon the facts themselves. Whereas the
thing which he ought to do is to gather firmly in his
hand the few main points of the lesson, sharpening
them to a point in his mind, placing them "in the focus
of the blaze" by concentrating his whole attention upon
them, so that they will stick like a burr in his mind,
and then, when these are fixed, to group about each
the illustrations and arguments by which the author
commends them to the acceptance of his juilgment. He
adds the repetition necessary to fix them in his memory,
and his task is accomplished with half the expenditure
of strength needed to commit the same lesson in the
confused way first mentioned. It is well for the mother
to teach the child how to study, as well as how to read,
before he enters school. She can do this by causing
h 10»
114 HOMR AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
liim to select tlie luain points in his simple lessons, or
in the stories and fables she reads to him. The right
method of study has already been adoj)ted in his child-
ish lessons, but he may not be able to apply it at once
to his text-book, although he is sure to do this much
more readily than the child who has had no such les-
sons. In his study of natural objects his power of
discrimination has been cultivated, so that he detects
the difference between leading facts and less important
matter. He has also learned the value of repetition,
and the mode of it, as dealing with leading facts and
not with set phrases. The frequent " Why do you
think so?" from his mother, when he is giving her the
account of his discoveries, has pushed him to the neces-
sity of selecting the right reason for his opinion.
This looking back over the facts he has accumulated
and selecting the important ones is nece&sary to every
original discoverer, weak or strong, child or scientist.
If his investigation becomes complicated, it is necessary
for him to review his facts, his "pros and cons," before
he can form his conclusions, and thus we have the first
form of repetition, for the sake of holding matter firmly
in the memory, of assuring one's self. But this repe-
tition becomes still more necessary when the mind fol-
lows the investigations of others ; for most of our edu-
cation is learning at second-hand. If, then, his home
instruction has set him fairly on his feet in the mat-
ters of discrimination and power of attention, however
much or little the information stored up may be, the
mother has saved him from the heaviest burden and
the greatest danger of failure in his future school-work.
It is rarely the pupil who is "stripped to his work,"
STUDY OF REAL "THINGS." II5
with all hinderances thrown aside, that breaks down ;
bnt where he is handicapped at every step, it is no
wonder if liis strength gives way. The young man wiio
puts himself in training for athletic sports secure.s at
first a skilful trainer, one who understands the human
frame and knows what his pupil can bear ; and it is
often said that he who attempts to train himself from
the first is liable to do serious injury to liis physical
system. But we are wiser in training for athletic
prizes than for mental success in any form, probably
becailse causes and effects are more obvious in physical
than in mental life. But the mistake is constantly
made of supposing that there is no limit to the mentid
powers, that the capacity of the brain for work is not
dependent upon such a commonplace thing as the
amount of fresh blood in the system, as the muscles
are known to be. It is not to be supposed that the
successes which are won by the human intelligence are
any less dependent upon a wise training at the start
than are those which come from feats of physical
strength. In each case the casting aside of every
weight is a matter of importance. And the child who
has been trained to hunt eagerly for the truths which
the world presents to him, assured of success, has cast
aside the heaviest weight.
Section IX.— Study of Real " Things."
If he has learned to know only one thing thoroughly,
learning it partially for himself with the object before
him, it counts for much ; as, for example, the manner
in which the bees work, the curiosities of history hid-
den in au ant-hill, the history even of some small river
116 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
or creek. How niucli there is of interest in the history
of II river! Much of it would have to be taken at
second-hand, l)iit if only a portion of it conies under
his direct observation his mind will readily apprehend
the rest ; and the one who leads his studies should see
that it is an apprehension with a grip to it. For ex-
ample, the portion of the river he knows has its niar.shy
or its pebbly bottom yonder, while here it ripples in a
slow descent over a bed of shale ; on this side it has
worn the soil of its banks from beneath, leaving the
tufted knots of grass to lean over it in a precarious
way, the tangle of snapdragon here, and the leaning
willow or sycamore there; and a little below it rounds
its way at the foot of a precipitous rock, down which
a cool spring trickles, and where the five-fingered wood-
bine creeps and clings. When a carriage full of chil-
dren is stopped at a convenient point that they may
enjoy the landscape, how much is added to the enjoy-
ment if such minute observations are made! and in the
" views afoot" of field and flood which the father, if
not the mother, should find time occasionally to take
with his children, the intimacy of this knowledge of
nature may be greatly increased.
To fill out for the child his picture of a river, and
of its value as a feature of the landscape and as a com-
mercial feature, he needs to know its source and the
sources of its tributaries, if any ; the towns, hamlets,
and the kind of farms and forests through which it
passes; its bridges, its mills, and whatever otiier fea-
tures of interest it possesses. If he knows one river
in this way he will possess already a general knowledge
of the next river he sees, and is interested in the nias-
STUDY OF REAL ''THINGS." 117
tery of its details. A small stream flowing only throiigli
a region with which he is partially familiar is better as
a first exan:ple of this kind, and a county map \vt)nld
be a valuable adjunct. But some map will be required
in this pursuit, and, with the points of the compass ex-
plained to him, the child will readily trace and explain
in fair language the course of the river from point to
point. "But there is a mountain there, Willie," says
his father, as the child explains its course. "■ How does
the river get over the mountain ? Does it run up, and
then down again ?" And the child laughs at the ab-
surdity. "But how does it get over the mountain ?"
As the child cannot answer, the question may wait
until he can be shown a river-gorge, or something that
answers the purpose. Or, lacking these, a picture may
serve the purpose, with the necessary explanation, and
a reason is thus given for the winding course of rivers.
Or clay modelling may serve the purpose. Later, he
can be Ciilled to trace the dividing-line between the
sources of rivers, as, for example, those which flow to
the Atlantic and those which are tributary to the Mis-
sissippi or the Gulf; and thus a foundation-knowledge
is laid of the physical features of the country, the vari-
ations of mountain and valley, of which the river is
the central indication. Travelling some years since in
the region of Lake Champlain, a boy of perhaps ten
years, accompanied by his parents, was among the pas-
sengers. As various points of interest were passed, they
were pointed out to him, and he was asked what he
knew about them. And he would answer, sometimes
quoting in a comical way the words of the school-book,
but showing in every way that he was well posted with
118 HOME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO.
rej^ard to them, and that his knowledgo must have been
the result of home iustruction, for it was not confined
to th(! barren facts given in our .school histories. In
fiunilies where u cultivated intelligence predominates,
a great deal of this kind of instruction slips into the
minds of the children incidentally, and not of set pur-
pose; but it is apt to be fragmentary in this case. And
it is not to all children of intellectual parents that this
advantage is given, as, for example, where the father
is a person of cultivated intellect and the mother is
not; the father is busy in his study, or elsewhere; there
is no provocation to intellectual conversation in the
family circle, and, unless the father makes a special
point of training his children, the value of his mental
culture is in a great measure lost to ihem. Not wholly:
there is an ante-natal influence in which they share,
and they may be fortunate enough to gather from time
to time the crumbs that fall from his mental table.
But it often hapj)ens that a child of good family will
be thrown into his school-work with his original habits
of inquiry dwarfed and warped, and with a vocabulary,
meagre and mean, which is wholly inadequate to his
needs. The speech to which he has listened, or the
language he has really learned, has been from so ill-
chosen a source that on the rare occasions when a better
current of conversation has attracted his attention it
has seemed to him an unknown tongue, and, lacking
the repetitions so necessary to infancy, indeed, to all
learning of language, he has given \\\^ the effort to un-
derstand it. Thus he has formed the habit, so injurious
to the student, of letting the meanings of words slip
past him ; and, when his text-book is at last placed
HEREDITARY INFLUENCE. HQ
before him, it seems to him ahiiost a meaningless mass
of forms, from whicii he expects nothing of interest to
enter his mind. But, with a wide range of language
as a vehicle of communication, and the power of form-
ing accurate conclusions, which his first lessons have
given him, he has already in his hand a key to the
knowledge offered him in the school-room. When a
firm foothold has been obtained in this exercise of the
reasoning powers, frivolity has received its death-blow.
Neither wealth, nor position, nor the influence of
friends, nor even the necessary qualities of courage and
industry, will do so much to insure the child's success
in life as will this power of forming clear and accurate
conclusions. We cannot change a child's natural gifts,
but we can give form and substance to those he pos-
sesses.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STAMP OF HEREDITAKY INFLUENCE.
Section I.— Moral and Mental Resemblance to Parents.
The reseniblance of child to parent is a matter of
common comment, with which all are familiar; and this
resemblance is no more liable to be noticed in ])hysical
than in moral and mental traits. "Just like his father,"
some one says, when a feature of moral or mental
obliquity or of clearness of vision shows itself. This
fact of the persistence of certain traits in a line of
120 IlOMl'^ AND SVUOOL TRAINING.
descent is a matter of eommun kiiowlwlgc, the re-ult
of popular observation. But it is one which the learned
have only recently begun to investigate, as deserving
of careful attention. If it were not for this law of
descent, it would have been no easy matter for savage
races to become civilized; for every trait of civiliza-
tion, every point of difference between the savage and
civilized man, has been at first acquired by some indi-
vidual who was impelled towards a higher living than
those about him. Others look upon the noble example
set by these pioneers in the work of human progress,
but they cannot follow it without effort. The bondage
of race-proclivities, of habits inherited for generations,
cannot be broken without determined effort. And this
effort it is which confers the blessing of advanced civil-
ization upon the descendants of those making it.
Section II.— Eesults of Self-Culture.
" Our ideas," says a prominent writer, " depend on
the original constitution of the cerebrum, and upon the
mode in which its activities have been habitually exer-
cised.^^ We all know that our power of thinking, of
taking possession of the ideas presented to us, depends
upon the manner in which our mental " activities have
been iiabitually exercised ;" that in the line where we
are accustomed to think, everything is clear, while it
is always difficult to run the mind into a new groove.
The man who works habitually in the higher mathe-
matics sees at once into the problems placed before
him ; and so in any other department of thinking; and
we know that this is an acquired and not a natural
power, — acquired with effort. There is also a hand-skill
RESULTS OF SELF-CULTURE. 121
in any kind of work acquired in the same way, as in
tlie case of the pianist. At first the work of the iiand
is wholly under the supervision of the mind, but at
length it becomes almost automatic. "I am out of
practice," says the pianist. Tlie* automatic power is in
a measure lost from lack of " habitual exercise." But
where skill has once been acquired it may soon be re-
sumed. The mental aptitude remains. " Brain grows
to the modes of thought in which it is habitually exer-
cised," says Dr. Carpenter, "and such modifications
of its structure are transmissible hereditarily." This
" hal)itual exercise," then, goes far towards forming the
constitution of the brain for our children. The i)usli-
ing up towards higher living by the pioneers of civili-
zation, the effort on the part of others to follow the
example of these leaders, gives directly to the children
of these individuals a higher eapal)ility for good; and
the greatest reward such individuals am receive for
their efforts is in the improved tendencies of tlie race.
In countries where the same handicraft is accustomed
to descend from father to son through successive gener-
ations, it is said that the craft pursued by his ancestors
can be distinguished by the shape of hand borne by an
infant in his cradle. It is also said that the pup of a
well-trained setter is already half trained. I knew a
lad whose ancestors had been seafaring men, but who
was removed in his early childhood to the interior of a
Western State. Being invited to take a sail with him
when he was fourteen or fifteen years old, after he had
left his inland home, I was surprised at the skill with
which he handled a sail-vessel, and said to him, " How
did you learn to manage a yacht like this ?" " Why,"
V 11
122 llOMl-: AND SCHOOL TKAIMSd.
r('i)lie(l lie, laughing, "the first time I tried I knew
liow already."
The childiiood of Mozart is a marketl example of
hereditary skill. The musical power shown i)y him
in infancy was marvellous. It is said that the i;irth of
such a child among savage races would have been im-
possible. In view of these facts, some one has said,
" We benefit the world more by the tendency we im-
part to our children as the result of our own noble
living, than we can do by either precept or example
while we live." In those who are parents, then, every
hour of noble thinking has its reward. We see from
these facts that we cannot civilize a savage race, or give
culture to a wholly uncultivated family, in one gener-
ation. Proofs of this are seen often in unfortunate
cases of adoption from vicious families, as well as in
marriages between widely different ranks in society.
Dr. Carpenter says, " In so far as we improve our own
intellectual powers and elevate our own moral nature
by watchful self-discipline, we are not merely benefit-
ing ourselves and those to whom our personal influ-
ence extends, but are improving the intellectual and
moral constitution which our children, and our cliil-*
dren's children, will inherit from us." In a similar
way we have power for good or evil over their phys-
ical system, for all constitutional taints or unnatural
habits of nutrition are hereditary. Wherever the same
physical ills exist in both parents, the evil is increased.
Hence the evil of family intermarriages. In extreme
debility, iVom whatever cause, there is an impairm?nt
of the nutrition of the biain as well as of the muscle^i,
and these evils descend to our children. The natural
STA TISTJCS. 1 23
supply for replenishing the blood is checked, there is
no power to form nerve-tissue, and the child suffers
from the loss of that bodily and mental health which it
ought to claim from its parents.
Whatever we do that will lessen the power of self-
control, deteriorate the blood, or impair the "formative
power of nerve-tissue," we are in so far giving to our
children an inheritance of sorrow.
Section III.— Statistics.
Sir Francis Galton, author of "Hereditary Genius,"
" English Men of Science," etc., gives some statistics
which are of no little interest in this connection, as
showing a very common law of descent from strong
and thoughtful parents. In one of these cases there
descended from a clergyman of literary ability in three
generations from ten to tifteen persons of noted talent
as scientists, military officers, etc., among them Mrs.
Amelia Oi)ie. In another case, from a physician, physi-
ologist, and poet there descended in four generations no
less than fifteen persons who have stood in the very
front rank of literary and scientific endeavor. In the
.Taylor family, of which Ann and Jane Taylor and
the Rev. Isaac Taylor were members, there appearal
in four generations thirteen persons, authors and othei*s,
of note. It was reckoned uj) at one time that ninety
publications had appeared from this family of authoi-s,
and others were written subsequently to this period.
We have various cases in this country where the same
law of descent is shown in quite as marked a way.
This author says, " When energy, or the secretion of
nervous force, is small, the powers of the man are over-
124 HUME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO.
taakoil by his daily duties, liis liealth gives way, aud lie
is soon weeded out of existence." In a descent fVorn
vicious parents tlie persistence of this law is still more
marked. One medical writer says that " the vital pow-
ers of such infants are so defective that in their earliest
years they are literally mowed down." He adds to this
mortality among children the large number of adults
who succumb prematurely to diseases which a tolerably
vigorous constitution would have defied. But this, he
says, is a mere drop in the ocean to the sufferings of
those who live through their tortured lives, victims of
the ills inflicted upon them by their parents. The
history of the Jute family, in Ea.-tern New York, is
well known, and doubtless abundant statistics of sim-
ilar nature would be at hand if sufficient attention were
turned in that direction. Most of the statistics on
this subject are obtained from asylums and other in-
stitutions, where those in charge have made a point of
searching them out. In our cities vice hides itself, and
its successive generations are not easy to trace. The
statistics possessed, however, are overwhelming in their
report of the heredity of vice. Sir Francis Gallon, in
''Hereditary Genius," complains of an indifferent ism
of public opinion which tends " to dissipate the energy
of the nation upon trifles." This complaint is well
worthy the attention of mothers, since it is so com-
monly considered the province of those who are to be
the mothers, and consequently the special conservators
of energy for the race, to "dissij)ate their energy upon
trifles." Another writer in this direction says, "The
principal hinderance to intellectual progress is the
elaborate machinery for wasting time which has been
HEREDITARY GIFTS. 125
invented and recommended under the name of social
duties. Considering the mental and material capital
of which the richer classes have the disposal, I believe
that much more than half the progressive force of the
nation runs to waste from this cause." These writers
probably would not set their faces against a fair amount
of social intercourse, — only against the costly machinery
and wasted time from the too common devotion to social
life. But, without question, far more haj)piness 'is at-
tained in a quiet home-life, with its small circle of
friends, than from any form of life " iii society."
Section IV.— Laying aside Endowments for our Chil-
dren.
Throwing out all" account of heredity, we all acknowl-
edge that the civilization of the w^orld has been attained
by the thoughtful and the energetic, — those whose ener-
gies have been turned in the direction of progress, who
labor for the things that benefit mankind, — and that
the idle, listless classes are lifted out of their darkness
into the clear atmosj)here of civilized life by these
thoughtful people, with little or no eiFort of their own.
They accept the improved surroundings which have
been conferred upon them by the pioneers of civiliza-
tion as far as tlicir persistent mental savagery will per-
mit; but the most wholesome api)liances of civilization
are rejected by the more apathetic. Still, these listless
classes are roused and invigorated by the pure atmos-
phere of civilization, and the world's progress goes on.
So we are all lifted to a higher life by the persistent
energy of leading minds. Is not, then, the energy of
the race too valuable a thing to l)e wasted?
11*
126 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
One mail, by cheerful activity, makes the wilderness
blo&som as the rose; another, l)y wastefulness and self-
indulgence, sets the ball rolling which crushes his own
children to the dust. But when we think what we can
impart as hereditary gifts to those who come after us, —
what vital energy on the one hand, what weakness,
what tendencies to vice and crime, on the other, — the
weight of personal responsibility is greatly increased.
If we are to make sure of that which we do for our
children, we shall not stint our efforts in our oversight
of their early years. The power of drawing well-based
conclusions, and of recognizing right modes of conduct,
is the direct result of the guidance that has been indi-
cated. There is less diiference between drawing right
conclusions and apprehending, or even choosing, right
modes of conduct than one at first glance might sup-
pose. But when children are found, as they sometimes
are, who can be safely left without a guide to get at the
"rights of things," to study the bearings of co union
facts and the value of right conduct, even in part, we
may be sure that it is a gift which has come to them by
inheritance, — that back in the line of ancestry there
have been those who by grave thinking and sturdy
action have formed the groove in which this power
was moulded. These ancestors may have done their
work with little appreciation from those about them ;
two lines of descent flowing together may have given
additional strength; but when we speak of one as
highly gifted, the foundation of the endowment comes
from those who have gone before. From this class
our leaders are drawn. They may not be political
or social leaders, but their bauds weave the texture
HEREDITARY GIFTS. 127
of which the civilization of the future is made up, and
no work is so valuable as theirs. Siiall we give gifts
of this nature to our children ? Then let us work for
our own upward growth while we work for theirs; and
let us never give up tlie responsibility of oversiglit
from any supposition that 0117' child is sufficiently
gifted to find his own way in tiie paths of life. The
only proof of such gifts is found in the strength of
maturity, not in childhood. The woman who, under-
standing these laws, applies herself sincerely to a
preparation for her work in the nursery, sees how she
may thus give to her children as a birthright clearness
of apjirehension, and a higher aptitude for those studies
which form the delight and the advancement of child-
hood. And the teacher who understands them knows
better how to deal with the children of every variety
of home culture who come under her charge. And,
since an hereditary habit can only be eradicated by a
counter-habit, she is better able to judge of the amount
of leniency and patience required in her work.
PART II.
SCHOOL TEAINING.
CHAPTER IX.
THE WHERE AND WHAT OF SCHOOL LIFE.
Section I.— The Child's "Stock in Hand" on entering
School.
When the child is ready for the school-room, it is
well for the mother to review the progress he has made
under her guidance, what bias in the right direction,
what power of right action he has gained, what glob-
ules of knowledge have been dropped into his mental
storehouse. When asked how much her child knows
as he is on the point of entering the school-room, the
mother is apt to reply, "Oh, he knows nothing at all.
He doesn't even read yet." But he may know a great
deal without being able to read, as we have seen ; and
the problem now is, how to connect the knowledge
already acquired with that obtained from books, — how
to make his past acquisitions serve as a key to those
which are to come. It is important for him to under-
stand that the studies upon which he is now to enter
are only a continuance, on a higher plane, of the work
which has thus far occupied him. With the value of
books he is already familiar from the use of them made
128
THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE OF ENGLISH. 129
by his mother as he grew older, as ilhistrations of his
object-stiulies and additions to his nursery-tales. She
will have found in making selections lor this purpose
that there is a great diflereuce in different authors in
the adaptability of their writings to the understanding
of children, in the matter of words as well as of ideas.
And she has doubtless selected those most simple iu
style, so that the number of obscure words occurring
at one time shall not dim the child's understanding of
what is read.
Section II.— His Knowledge of his Own Language.
If she has attended to this from the first, has defined
as she read, and has kept her readings ahead of him at
all times, so that some definitions were in place, and
if she is also aware that he has had opportunities daily
of listening to intelligent conversation in the household
and among her friends, — for this intelligent listening is
one of the gifts she has to oifer him, — she will find it
easy to decide whether he is capable of understanding
more than one or two hundred words in English or
not. Let her take any page of a spelling-book, and
see how many words it contains that would be unintel-
ligible to him, and she will thus be able to gain some
idea of the number of stimibling-blocks he will find
a year or two hence, when his text-books become his
teachers. These words are probably defined in the
spelling-book, but to the child whose fund of language
is gained from the highways and byways the definition
is apt to be as obscure as the word itself. A mother
should really hold herself responsible for her child's
foundation -knowledge in English. The definitions
i;JO HOMI': AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
Icuiiicd hy 11 cliild IVoiii dictionary aixl spelling-book
only ;iic a li[,dit ly-licld j)o.ssession, liaif understood and
half" icineniberod. It is oidy in hearing words in their
relations to the sentence in reading and conversation
that he gains an adequate ajjprchension of" their mean-
ing. Indeed, all brief" definitions of" words are neces-
sarily inade(juate. They are only clear to tiie mature
mind after they have been held before it in every light.
Words cannot be defined by a mere reference to a syn-
onyme that is not a synonyme. Very few words are
entirely synonymous. If they happen to coincide once
in the growth of a language, they are very soon jostled
out of this coincidence through the demand for nicer
shades of meaning. Such definitions only set one on
the track of the meaning of a word, giving an idea
which is afterwards modified by additions and retrench-
ments. And it is true that no one understands a lan-
guage thoroughly until he is widely read in all those
departments of knowledge to which that language has
given expression. What we contend for here is that
the child shall have, on his introduction to the school-
room, or to the task of learning from text-books, such
a knowledge of language that the ordiuaiy terms of
his text-books shall not be a stumbling-block in his
way, — that the words on the page before him shall pre-
sent themselves to his mind instinct with meaning, so
that he may be able to study them, not as in mere mem-
orizing, for a sequence of sounds, but for a sequence
of facts. When these early lessons are only half learned,
it is usually because the words in which they are given
are only half understood. Where the needed founda-
tion-knowledge exists, no technical terms will be a hin-
THE MOTHER'S REVIEW. 131
derance. They arc defined as lie goes, and he is already
familiar with the process of getting at the meanings of
words. He may 'stagger over a new idea as he goes on,
but, if he does, when he has once grasped the idea it is
only the easier to remember the term because of the
struggle he had over the thing for which it stands.
Sterne complains of writers who place rows of " tall,
opaque words" between their meaning and the minds of
their readers. As rows of words must stand between
an author and his readers, it. really is important that
they should be made transparent rather than opaque.
Section III.— The Mother's Review.
The questions, then, which a mother will be likely to
ask herself in such a review will be:
I. What knowledge of the outside world does he
pcssess, and what power of gaining such know'lalge
for himself by putting the simple facts he discovers in
their places, and drawing legitimate conclusions there-
from ?
II. What tools has he prepared for his future work?
Is language, as far as his knowledge of it goes, a lumi-
nous vehicle of thought to him, or has he formed the
vicious habit of satisfying himself with the mere sounds
of words?
III. Is his manner of apprehending a subject clear
or confused ?
As the school-room is probably the first place where
lie has been called upon to stand alone without the
sup|)ort of family friends, she will also be likely to a>k,
"What pow'cr does he possess to abide in the principles
in which he luis been taught, to make right choices,
]32 HOME AND SCHOOL TJIAIMNG.
udlieriiig to the good and resisting the evil?" And it
is to he remembered that this power is not to be meas-
ured by the number of admonitions* lie has received,
but by his actual practice of forming right judgments
and following them up by right actions. "I am sure
I have told him often enough," says the mother. Ay,
but have you watched him with silent love and sym-
pathy as his mind worked towards the " right choic-es"
you had placed before him, dallying and doubtful, until
at last he evaded them in the interest of his self-lcjve,
or accepted them with a sturdy courage which showed
the moral fibre he possesses? "He obeys me," says the
mother. Yes, but no act of enforced obedience can
show what bias has been given as it can be shown by
these independent choices. Let us have obedience where
it is necessary, but freedom enough always to test the
child's strength. It is not enough to cast seed into the
ground ; it needs some further care, some work from
the cultivator after it is cast in.
Section IV.— What School shall he Attend ?
These points settled, the next question is, What
school shall he attend? Under the care of what teacher
or teachers shall he be })laced? As the work of instruc-
tion now stands in this country, the question, in the
large majority of cases, is decided by circumstances. It
is not, on the part of most parents, a free question as to
the form of the school and the fitness of teachers, but
these points are modified by questions of proximity and
expense. Where freedom of decision is possible, the
highest aim of the parents will be to secure a thorough
teacher, — not a thorough disciplinarian merely, not a
WHAT SCHOOL SHALL THE CHILD ATTEND? 133
man whose hobby is tlioroughness in study, whatever
other good may be overridden to attain it, but a man
or woman wiio is a teacher to the core, one who loves
knowledge and truth so well that he not only fills him-
self to the brim witii it, but by the impulses of his
nature causes it to overflow, watering and bringing into
bloom the mental soil about him. The description is
not overstated : there are such teachers. The love of
study for its own sake is the chief disciplinary power
they require, but where anything else is needed the
authority is at hand. The influence of such a teacher
over his pupils is a thing of rare value, — a thmg which
can be appreciated only by those who have tested it.
One who knows its value will go far to secure it ; but
it is not everywhere to be found. Modifications of this
natural teaching-power are possessed in various degrees
by many teachere, and their real value as teachers is to
be determined by the degree to which it is possessed.
For the power to impart knowledge — to impel the
pupil in the direction of truth — is what is required of
a teacher, and no amount of disciplinary talent or of
power to make a showy school can atone for the lack
of it. To the extent at least of requiring a fair amount
of this power the parent should let the quality of the
individual teacher determine his choice.
Some may question whether teachers who fail to
possess a fair amount of this power are ever retained
in school; but one would be mistaken who inferred that
they were not. Such a teacjier may very easily happen
to be what is called a good disciplinarian, i.e., one whose
pupils stand in awe of him ; and in such a case he is
very likely to maintain a foothold in the school-room,
12
134 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAIN ISC.
whetlier possessing any real teaching- power or not. J t is
not uu uncommon tiling lor careless observers — school-
boards, as well as others — to call a person a good teacher
who is simply a severe, sometimes almost a savage, dis-
ciplinarian, but wiio possesses only the lowest average of
capacity to impart knowledge. Tiiere must l)e thorough
discipline in the school-room, l)ut it is hardly this kind
that is required. The person possessing the highest
quality of teaching-power disciplines as naturally as he
teaches. Xenophon has said, " Instruction is in any
case impossible to one who cannot please;" and this
pleasure is in itself a disciplinary power. The pupil
is absorbed in it, and chooses to conform to such re-
quirements as enable him to reach most surely the
knowledge he is seeking. Power to interest implies
power to influence. The man or woman possessing this
qualification is by nature a person excellent in author-
ity, but the harsh disciplinarian is by no means excel-
lent in authority. School-boards may satisfy themselves
with the progress the child is making in memorizing
" opaque," drilled lessons, but the parents who really
care for the welfare of their children will continually
assure themselves what is the actual growth of the un-
derstanding from this stirring of the soil that school
life gives, as well as what is the growth of character
which is the outcome of this broadening of the under-
standing,— will inquire whether the child is gaining
wholesome views of life, a balanced insight into the
relations of things, and the content which arises there-
from.
HOW MUCH TIME FOR SCHOOL LIFE1 136
Section V.— How Much Time for School Life ?
Beyond this, the ([Uestiou of the school he is to attend
is determined by tlie other important question, what or
how much lie is to study. " A little of everything," is
the ready answer that common custom dictates. Very
well. He certainly cannot study much of "everything"
in the time allotted to an ordinary school course. If
he takes a college course, he should in tiie end have a
pretty good knowledge of some important things. How
great this knowledge is depends upon the use he has
made of his time and strength. But an examination
of the best college curriculum will show that those
studies to which he has given considerable attention
are limited at most to two or three, and that to others
a comparatively slight attention has been paid. This
is seen in the division of courses. A student is ex-
pected to graduate from a literary course with a fair
amount of classical knowledge, from an engineering
course with a sufficient knowledge of mathematics and
applied science, and from a scientific course with a tol-
erable understanding of the sciences at their present
state of advancement. But where one of these branches
are made prominent tiie others have to take a subordi-
nate i)lace. If the classical student wishes to pursue
mathematics or draughting to the extent to which they
are carried in an engineering course, he must do it at
the expense of his Latin and Greek, or he must add to
his hours of study. There is no occasion, then, when
it has been decided by school-boards and educational
advisers that the child is to study a little of every-
thing, and is to complete this knowleilge of every-
130 HOME AND SCHOOL THAININO.
tiling l)y the tiiiu! he is seventeen or eighteen years of
iige, to cry out that his school-course is superficial, that
he is nowhere thorough, but gets a mere smattering in
each branch. What else can he get? If by super-
ficial is meant that he knows but little of each of these
several branches, it is all that can be expected. That
little, however, he ought to know. According to the
most advanced ideas, he is to commence school at
seven. Then custom seems to demand that he shall
finish an academic course at seventeen or eighteen. At
this latter age he has not reached maturity, and can
do no such work in the school-room as is done by
more mature minds. To the average pupil a year of
study after he has reached the age of twenty is wortii
two years at the age which so frequently closes an
academic course.
Section VI.— Examination of Programme.
Let the one who really wishes to understand this
matter make an estimate of the ground " everything"
covers in these days of heterogeneous knowledge, and
parcel it out through this brief circle of years. I take
up the catalogue of a highly popular and excellent
school, and look at the programme of a high-school
course of four years. It is the decision of the best
teachers in the country that three substantial studies
are as many as any pupil can pursue at the same time.
Suppose that one of these three is a language, ancient
or modern, we have then two English studies at a time
to be continued through tiie course. Forty weeks in
the year is the outside limit of time given to school -
work. There are no substantial English studies in
EXAMINATION OF PROGRAMME. 137
which anytliing approaching a fair knowledge can be
giv^u in less than twenty weeks. Taking this, then, as
a basis, we find that these twenty weeks will give one
hundred lessons in one study, provided there is no inter-
ruption, such as a weekly elocutionary exercise or other
general exercise. Of these lessons at least twenty are
needed for review, — more if the study is difficult. For
these reviews are all-important, as enabling the pupil to
group the various branches of the subject in his mind,
so that he comprehends the whole. Taking the im-
portant studies in the programme before me in their
order, I have the following result. These twenty weeks
to a study give sixteen English studies for the course,
thus :
1. Grammar, 9. Arithmetic.
2. Book-keeping. 10. Geography.
3. United States History. 11. Elementary Algebra.
4. Geometry. 12. Civil Government.
5. Physiology. 13. Physical Geography.
6. Botany. 14. Higher Algebra.
7. General History. 15. Khetoric and Critioi.sm.
8. English Literature. 16. Zoology.
I now find that, omitting the lighter work and taking
the other branches in their order of .succession, twenty-
four branches have been omitted from this four years'
course. Of these the lightest work — reading, word-
analysis, penmanship, etc. — are usually made to accom-
pany the more exacting studies. If we throw out lan-
guage entirely, we have room for eight more English
branches, to which this amount of time can be given.
Selecting these as before, we have :
12*
l;38 HOMK AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
1. Geology. 5. Political Economy.
2. Chemistry. 6. PhysicH.
3. Mental Philosophy. 7. Moral Philosophy.
4. Perspective Drawing. 8. Trigonometry.
If a language is retained through the whole or a
portion of this course, some of these studies must be
omitted, and otiiers shortened to the unsatisfactory
period of ten weeks. In the majority of cases it would
be better to drop them altogether and give the time to
the completion of some other brancii. But, if a teacher
selects well, and is successful in impressing on the
minds of pupils the topics presented, there are some
studies from which valuable topics can be cho.sen for a
ten weeks' study. But let such a pupil fall into the
hands of examiners who know nothing of the topics
presented, and they will be apt to find out a good deal
more of what he does not know than of what he does.
Section VII.— Primary and Grammar School Work.
" But," says some one, " what has tlie child been doing
all those years in the primary or grammar school, if
he is obliged to study grammar and arithmetic after he
enters upon an academic course?" Probably he has
been fighting out the battle between his untrained
mental and moral, ay, and his physical activities, and
the requirements of the school. And a pitiful battle it
is if he has had no training at home before he enters
the school-room except that of being permitted to grow
physically. In this case he is much less fitted mentally
for gaining the knowledge he really requires than he
was at the close of his second year. Up to that period
the forces of nature had obliged him to learn, mainly
PRIMARY AND GRAMMAR SCHOOL WORK 1;39
in the right direction. But after this period he becuincs
far. more independent of the forces of nature, but more
dependent on the bias given i)y others in the wider
range his search for knowledge takes. He is obliged
to select for himself if his home instruction is neglected,
and in doing thjs he learns a new language, and forgets
that old delitjhtful tonu^ue which was so full of the
heaven-created harmonies of the outer world. Tliis
new language is probably the language of war. The
hammer-clang of the outside world has called him to
do battle, clamorous or crafty, witii the armies of uni-
versal selfishness, and he has learned their tactics faith-
fully. He has done well, too, if he has not learned
much of the language of vice, a tongue which its vo-
taries stand on every corner intent to teach. But the
old language he has forgotten was that of the laws of
nature, and thus of the laws of love, — of the adjust-
ment of rights. If he has received the home instruc-
tion which was his due, he knows how to maintain his
own rights with dignity and self-possession, and to give
way readily and kindly when he sees himself tempted
to intrude on the rights of others. Thus, with his ob-
servation sharpened, his attention trained, and a fair
perception of what is due to himself and from himself,
he enters readily upon the work of the primary school
without the months and years of secret resistance to its
exactions which the neglected child is almost certain to
go through. But without this preparation the time given
to the children in the lower schools is not enough. N<»t
that there is not time enough for the actual work, but
there is not enough to create first a disposition for the
work and then secure what is needed. So desirable is
140 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
it, however, where this is the limit of education, that
some portion of mature strength should be given to the
work Of study, that it would probably be an advantage
if the pu])il were removed lor a few years from school
before his academic course commences, and set to learn
some handicraft, some portion of mercantile insight, or
whatever may comport with his aim in life ; the daugh-
ter to learn housekeeping, for, whatever a woman's oc-
cupation in life may be, she is the housekeeper, the
centre, and must understand the details of home life.
Married or unmarried, she is never quite at rest unless
she has a home of her own, however simple, which she
can control.
But there seems to be an ambition on the part of
most parents to have their children finish a miscella-
neous course of study at this early age, however mucii
they may be disturbed by the fear of broken health on
the one hand, or of superficial knowledge on the other.
The time to look at these things squarely and under-
staudingly is when the child enters upon his course of
study. Before a score of years have passed over their
heads, the majority of the pupils in these schools have
gone out of the school-room into business or into so-
ciety. And, since they cannot have a very extended
knowledge of everything, it seems to be decided that
they shall have an initiation at least into the several
branches the age has to offer.
Section VIII.— Half-Knowledge.
There has been a wide increase of knowledge in the
world during the present century, which brings a heavy
pressure of demand upon our schools. What plodding
HA LF-KNO WL KDQE. 141
student of the classics in the last century was called
upon to explain the steam-engine or the electric tele-
graph ? What classes followed their professor over field
and fell in jHirsuit of geological strata or speciinens in
natural history? And our schools are ready to take in
everything of the new, and give up nothing of the old.
But where a course of study is so widened that the pupil
is able to acquire no thorough knowledge, it is an evil
against which all should cry out. He shoidd at least
know what thoroughness is through his own mastery
of some important branch. Nothing is so devoid of
interest as a skeleton of knowledge from which all
the flesh has been pared away. And in the initiatory
knowledge he gains of various topics this knowledge,
as far as it goes, should be complete. Where a school
does not give this, it is to be avoided. It is better to
know one division of a subject wholly than to have a
half-knowledge of the whole subject. For example,
it is better to know geometry well and trigonometry
not at all, than to have a blind knowledge of both.
There is nothing more useless than this half-knowledge:
it is a plant without root, that withers away. It might
be thought that, like other things that pass out of the
memory, it has been useful in giving mental discipline;
but it is doubtful whether this blind study gives any
discipline, unless it be in a slight gymnastic exercise
of memory in a sequence of sounds, as when the child
learns " hickory, dickory, dock." When, however, the
pupil has really mastered a well-selected course of
academic study, including these general topics, the term
superficial cannot be aj)jilied to him. He knows what
he pretends to know, and this initiatory knowledge has
142 nOME AND SCJIOOL THAI NINO.
^'wvn liiin the opportunity of testing those branches
with which his tastes are most in unison, so that his
after-leisure can be applied as he chooses ; and he has
in hi.s mind a fair, tliough a very brief, suniniary of the
varied knowledge which the world has thus far accu-
mulated. But more than all this is the discipline he
has received, — the [)ower, greater or less, to manage
whatever thought comes before him, whatever subject
it may be to which he applies himself.
CHAPTER X.
RESULTS TO BE EXPECTED.
Section I.— Text-Books.
There is a great difference in the manner in which
ditFerent branches have been epitomized for academic
or common-school study, as there is also a great dif-
ference in the success of different authors in the same
branches. The greatest success has, perhaps, been at-
tained in our common-school arithmetics, the greatest
attention having doubtless been paid to them, and the
least in our common-school histories. With these last
there seems to be no idea of making them race-his-
tories,— the all-absorbing story of our ancestors, how
they lived, and what they accomplished in the world.
It would almost seem that a small hand-book, tjivinsr a
good description of British barrows, would give more
real historv of the race than is ffiven in manv school
TEXT-BOOKS. 143
histories of England. Wlien tliey leave their thread-
bare tale of wars, they enter upon the still more thread-
bare discussion of boundary-lines. These skeleton list.s
of wars and bloodshed seem to be, like the skeleton in
armor, a relio of that savage period when the highest
virtue a man could claim among his contemporaries
was in the number he had slain, — the frequency with
which he had given to the wolves their fejist of human
flesh. Of those who waged these wars too little is said
to interest the pupil, and the dates he has memorized,
as they lie in his mind, are apropos of nothing, — at
least of nothing tangible, — and are forgotten almost as
soon as learned. Even our United States history is
treated in the same way, whereas our woods and fields
might be made, to our children, alive with the brief
history of our country. The great fault in the school
histories of distinct countries lies in the fact that the
images they give are confused ; the forces the author
has in hand are not well marshalled. A writer of his-
tory, especially of an epitomized history, should be able
to drive six-in-hand. Dr. Day says, in his "Art of
Discourse," " A history of the world's progress which
should firmly grasp the one race of men, and present
the common changes they have undergone in their
common relations, keeping the unity of the theme ever
in sight, would be as attractive and fascinating as most
universal histories, so called, that have as yet appeared
are repulsive and wearisome. Such a universal history
is a desideratum in our literature."
While these histories remain what they are, it would
be desirable for the parents to teach this branch them-
selves to the children at home, or at least to fill out the
Ill HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
picture as the study goes on in the school-room, so that
it will no longer be a blind study, difficult for the mind
to grasp or retain, and hardly worth retaining when
the feat has been accomplished. The only young stu-
dents I have known who have had any knowledge of
history worth naming have been those whose parents
have thought it worth while to make the past history
of the world a topic of conversation in the home circle.
In such homes the knowledge of history becomes a
delight. There is still a good deal of lumber in some
of our lower-grade text-books which might well be
weeded out, and the strength given to other things;
but attention seems to be turning in this direction, and
we may hope for improvement. The difficulty of over-
pressure, however, in a limited course of study comes
mainly from the fact that has been mentioned, that no
proper adjustment has taken place between the studies
which have crowded in for attention during the present
century and those which made up the work of educa-
tion in the last century. There is, on one side, a de-
mand for the same amount of classical study which
was required when all the knowledge of the world,
broadly speaking, was bound up in a dead language,
and this language was the one medium of communica-
tion among the learned ; while, on the other side, the
new discoveries and the revisions of old theories, which
have turned the world upside down within the present
century, are crowded upon the attention of the pupil.
At the same time, the growing opinion that a child
should do nothing but sow- tares during the first seven
years of his life, and that before the third seven years
have passed away the recipient of an academic educa-
FRUITLESS WORK. 145
tiou, matured and educated, shall be already established
in business or in society, has greatly diminished the
time allotted to the work, while the amount to be done
has increased. Let it be remembered that a child may
sow tares during these years without becoming morally
a monster. It is enouo;h if he has been allowed to
sow mental tares, while his morals have received fair
attention.
In full view of the bearings of these things the
parents must make their decision. It is too late for
them to examine the workings of a given course of
study after the child has gone partially through with
it. The products of an established school or system of
schools are always fairly before the public.
Section II.— Shall we Look for Results in Knowledge, or
in Mental Discipline ?
In the minds of many the thing sought is, not what
the pupil shall study, but how great is the discipline
he obtains from these studies. And this discipline is
indeed the important point, but not the only point. If
it were, he might as well spend his time in one study,
provided the topic were large enough. The skill to
acquire further knowledge that he gains in the work
of mastering this course is all-important, but he may
as well also be acquiring important knowledge as he
goes. There is a mode of studying, so called, that
gives no appreciable discipline. In these cases the
pupil is not overworke<l with study, but is over-worried
with studies. These studies consist of piles of books
that load his school-desks, his satchels, and hfs room,
t«upposed to represent branches he is pursuing, but of
Q k \)
1 k; home and school tuainino.
wliicli, wliL-n all is done, he knows "as little as tiie
wind that blows." This choosing of many studies,
instead of much study, may be the fault of tlie ])arents
or of the teachers. It is most frequently found in cer-
tain private schools, where the appearance of work is
made to answer for the reality, — where the most marked
results are claimed to be reached in the briefest period.
" They seem to be marching, but they are only marking
time." Do not place your children in such a scliool.
Like the Israelites under the builder-king of Egypt,
they will be called to "make bricks without straw."
Section III.— Comparative Value of Different Studies.
With regard to the amount of discipline ol)tained
from different branches, those that exercise the reason-
ing powers are far the most important; and when
parents ask, as they sometimes do, that their children
be released from these studies, they can hardly know
what it is that they demand. " Why should my child
study algebra when he dislikes it ? He will never have
any use for it." Ah, but most j^eople do have some use
for their reasoning powers, and some need that the judg-
ment should be cultivated. Algebra is not the only
study in which the most important use to the majority
of students may be an indirect one. In the work of
translating from one language to another there is an
exercise of the judgment, a poising of the mind over
the finer shades of meaning of a word, an eliminating
and supplementing, until the idea conveyed by the
foreign word or phrase is made to fit fairly to the idea
conveyed by a similar English word or phrase. It is
a delicate work of mosaic, in which the student is re-
COMPARATIVE VALUE OF STUDIES. 147
<£uired to reproduce, in euthely different material, the
pattern before him. The great value of the work is
in the exercise itself. The student is learning English
quite as much as he is learning Latin or German, an<l
the power of expression he obtains is more than either.
He may as well take this exercise in a language which
will be of service to him as a language, as in one which
will not, provided tliere is a sufficiently wide difference
from his mother-tongue. When the language once be-
comes familiar to him, the value of this exercise is re-
duced to its minimum. The fact that the great skill of
the educational world has been given for centuries to
the perfecting of the best possible drill in Latin gives to
this study au indirect value entirely outside its special
worth as a language. Taking a brief glance, then, at
the comparative value of different studies, we find that
mathematics seems to underlie the other branches, form-
ing tools with which we work, a ladder by which we
ascend. The branches are so divided as to suit dif-
ferent needs, arithmetic and geometry being fitted to
the every-day wants of the world, while the higiier
divisions are demanded by that more intricate work
which is placed in the hands of the few. Through all
departjuents they are invaluable as discipline. The
disciplinary value of foreign languages has just been
mentioned. It can hardly be said that one has a well-
balanced education unle&s he understands at leiist one
language besides his own. The discipline — that is, the
all-im[)ortant knowledge of English — can be obtained
in other ways; but, until we have learned how some
other people than our own have managed to fit ideas to
words, a curious and valuable department of knowl-
148 HOME AM) SCHOOL TRAINING.
edge is closed to us. Tliioiigli tliLs study the diUciciicfj
between words and ideas, and the worth and imperfec-
tion of words as exponents of ideas, l)ec'oine apparent.
Physics and choniistry give us a knowledge of the
forces by which the world is held and moved ; our
material development depends upon them, and some
knowledge of them is needed before we can have even
a comfortable understanding of the changes going on
about us.
Physiology should be placed as near as possible to
the foundation of any course of study, and it should
include a knowledge of the laws of health, the nutri-
tive value of foods (the time occupied in digestion is
not the only important point under this head), and
whatever else of the kind will aid in teaching us how
to live. It is more important to know what avenues
disease can find to the human body, than to be able to
name the number of bones it contains.
Botany might well be exchanged for the study of
horticulture, or the growth of plants. When this has
been acquired, the further information it gives is no
more in the line of our wants than is a knowledge of
zoology, archaeology, etc., and the time s|)ent in filling
large herbariums, which, once closed, are never opened
again, is often sadly needed for more important things.
The work is very much like that of making classified
collections of shells, butterflies, and the like, all of
them excellent object-lessons, but given at a period
when, except for specialists, the chief value of such
lessons is past.
Our ordinary mode of studying geography needs
nu)dification. In the mind of the child studying it,
COMPARATIVE VALUE OF STUDIES. 149
the habitable globe as it exists slioukl puss in review,
and it is rarely that this is accom])lishe(l. The knowl-
edge imparted consists, for the most part, of capitals
and boundaries, of groups of rivers, islands, etc., and
these in many cases are simply memorized, — oh, pitiful
fact! — without any image of location, physical features,
or other belongings being fixed in the mind. Very
little real knowledge of geography is obtained until
the pupil carries with him a fair mental picture of the
country he is studying, — locations, productions, people,
etc., — and this is rarely obtained unless the teacher, or
possibly the author, has special power in illustration.
An author of school text-books has too little space for
this. The study of geography ought to be accompanied
by good pictures of natural scenery, and the use of
stereoscopic views. But few schools are possessed of
them, and most parents suffer them to lie idly in library
and parlor, while their children drone painfully on
through a study which, with a little attention, might
become the easiest and most delightful portion of their
early school-work. When persons who have had the
opportunities of a fair education tell as that they have
just visited a town joining Detroit on the east, or Cleve-
land on the north, or when a common-school teacher
bounds Ohio on the north by Tennessee, and on the
east by Minnesota, we get some idea of what image, or
lack of image, the ma]> of their own country must have
presented to their minds. The mother's duty of home
instruction is hardly finished when the child enters
school.
There is necessarily much machine-work in the school-
room. Tlic garment that is to fit so many minds must
18*
150 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
be cut by tlie same pattern ; and iiulividiial work is the
"open sesame" in education, for these young raindd.
differ in their wants. Takin;r this study of geography
as an example, if the mother, before the school term
opens, would look over the text-books the child is to
study, ascertain how much is laid out for the term,
and then gather together such accessories as the house
affords, parcel them out as they apply to each division,
and place them near at hand in a package which no
one will disturb, they will be ready at her need. Then,
instead of spending her usual twenty minutes or more in
helping the child to force into his unroused memory the
words of the lesson, she has her pictures in her hand,
and says, "It is Siam, is it? and Farther India? Siam
is where Mrs. Leonowens went with her little boy. She
went as governess, to help the king in his Engli?;h, and
to teach the ladies of the court. I am afraid these
ladies found it as hard to get their lessons as some little
children do here. This is a view of the king's palace
at Bangkok. Not much like our way of building, you
see. Bangkok is at the mouth of the Menam. Me-
nam means ' mother of waters.' It looks quite small
on your map, but it is nearly a thousand miles long.
Here is the picture of a hut on the Irrawaddy. Do
you see how many mouths the Irrawaddy has ? Its
valley is as fertile as that of the Nile. The house is
only of one story. They object to another story be-
cause they think it an insult for people to walk over
their heads." By this time the interest and the mem-
ory are fully awake. The rivers and the capital the
child can scarcely forget. The rest, we might almost
say, Mould be accomplished by i\\^ physical force which
COMPARATIVE VALUE OF STUDIES. 151
the roused mind has called to its aid ; for " by the
,law of nervous and mental persistence the currents of
the brain will become gradually stronger and stronger"
until the task is accomplished. It is wonderful how
small an item of interest will sometimes so rouse the
mind that the lesson to which it pertains is not onlv
easily prepared for the recitation-room, but is in many
cases always retained. Probably the same incident,
given separately, would never have thrown any light
upon the country where it occurred. Physical geog-
raphy, a most important study, is often set aside for
things of far less value.
The grammatical use of language should be taught
to the child with his mother-tongue. The laws of
grammar will then be comparatively easy to him at a
later day. He will take to it naturally if it is pre-
sented to him in a natural way. He would never say
"go-ed" for "went," when he begins to talk, if some
of these laws were not firmly embedded in his mind.
If he is corrected, and told to say " went," he will
possibly make it " went-ed," so firmly does it seem to
be impressed upon him that irregular verbs are an
innovation.
Rhetoric — through a good text-book, if possible — is
needed for the understanding of the laws of composi-
tion and of criticism. The dull machine-work of sen-
tence-building can never give an idea of the laws of
com})osition. This exercise belongs to grammar, but
grammatical rules do not cover these laws of compo-
sition,— they scarcely touch upon them.
Beyond this a fair literary judgment can scarcely be
formed without some knowleiliic of the laws of criti-
lf,2 //o.va; and school training.
(ism ; or, if" it is formed, it is <liscouiit<<l in value, l)e-
c'juise the accidentally correct judgibent ha-s no confi-
dence in itself.
A knowledge of English literature is very irnjjortant
as opening the door to the great enjoyment of our future
lives. Without some knowledge of literature and of
criticism, the mind is left to select the worst and most
seductive forms of literature for future pastime. In-
deed, one could almost determine the period at which
a pupil left school, or the kind of school he or she has
attended, by watching the kind of books drawn by them
from the public library. But in the way of such a de-
termination would stand, occasionally, the immovable
rock of home instruction.
The task of learning to spell is often continued very
late in a course of instruction, and even then it is apt
to fail in reaching its object. It is an herculean task to
think of memorizing at school the manner in which the
words of the language are spelled. Wearisome indeed
are the hours which the young child spends over his
spelling-lesson, repeating it twenty times, letter after
letter, till, with his eyes closed, he can see every letter
as it stands on the page, — a state which is never reached
until the child's mind has expended a nerve-power it
cannot spare. But there are some children who, from
the time they have learned to read, will always spell
correctly, while others, with all the attention they can
give to these fixed lessons, will never learn to spell ;
and numerous are the devices to which teachers have
resorted in order to make the poorest stand side by side
with the best. Yet it is not always the poor student
that is the poor speller. What can be the diflPerence?
KJNDERQA R TENS. \ 53
Evidently it is in the mode of observation, — tiie manner
in wliieh the senses have been trained, or liave trained
themselves, to act. One child takes in the details of
each word as he recognizes it in readinii:, — he knows it
not merely as a whole, but in all its ])arts. If a letter
were misplaced or changed for another, he would recog-
nize it almost before he reached the word. It would
not be the same word to him. The same child, when
playing with his building-blocks on the floor, would be
pretty sure to have them in the right position, — would
probably be able to read with the book in any position,
— because he knows each letter with the same minute-
ness of detail. But the child who never learns to spell
takes in the word he recognizes in a ditferent way,
grasping the form as a whole, but with little or no.
knowledge of its details ; and he would show the same
lack of attention to minute forms in other things. If
this is true, the task of early home instruction in train-
ing the eye to observe will have one of its rewards
in lessening this long-protracted labor of memorizing
words in the school-room. It would be a happy day
for the children if their senses were so trained that they
all learned to spell when tiiey learned to read, and knew
at a glance if a letter were nu'splaced in a word.
Section IV.— Kindergartens.
The mother may have kept the child, busied with his
small chippings from the great world-block of knowl-
edge, long and lovingly at her side. But the time comes
quite too soon when she must examine those questions
with regard to his futiu'c education, and j>l;i('c liitn in
other hands. She mav have found herself too much
154 HOME AND S(J/1(J()L Ti:AL\L\<i.
occupicil l()giv(! liiiii (lie attention lie roqnired at home,
and have decided, at an early date, to place him in a
kindergarten.
If" she docs this, the difficulty of selecting the right
place for him is increased, for there is no place where
the success of the work jiroposed to be done depends so
wholly on the aptitude of the individual teacher as it
does here ; and it is a place where many fail, really, if
not visibly, where one succeeds.
A young woman, perhaps, with no experience among
children, has, we will say, twenty children placed under
her, whom she is to care for, control, and teach in such
a Avay that their physical and mental powers shall grow
and blossom as do the lilies of the field, that neither
toil nor spin. Every one of these children has probably
been, thus far, a centre of attention in his own nursery,
and now for the first time finds his own rio-hts in con-
flict with others of his own age. It is true that he
must learn the amenities of life from actual contact
with others; but when so large a group of children
come together, who have all of them the same lesson
to learn at the same time, and without any of that
strong power of example which the older pupils of a
school maintain, the task of control comes in its most
difficult form.
Wilderspin, the founder of the first infant-schools in
Great Britain, gives an account of the confusion of his
first day which has not been without its counterpart in
some cases from that day to this. He says, ** When the
mothers had left, a few of the children who had been
at a dame-school sat quietly; but the rest, missing their
parents, crowded about the door. One little fellow, find-
KINDEROARTENS. I'jq
ing he could not open it, set up u loud cry of" ' Manunv,
mammy;' and in raising this deliglitful sound idl the
rest simultaneously joined. My wife, who had deter-
mined to give me her utmost aid, tried with myself to
calm the tumidt ; but our efforts were utterly in vain.
The paroxysm of some increased instead of subsiding,
and so intolerable did it become that she could endure
it no longer, and left the room ; and at length, ex-
hausted by effort, anxiety, and noise, I was compelled
to follow her example, leaving my unfortunate pupils
in one dense mass, crying, yelling, and kicking against
the door." On this first day he at last conquereti the
tumult by raising the laughter of the children. Wilder-
spin had his heart in the matter, and reached, eventu-
ally, the highest degree of success. This, too, has been
reached in many of our kindergartens. But kinder-
garten ing can never take the place of wisely-managed
home instruction. It may be more successful in giving
systematic information, but it can have no such power
in giving moral strength and wholesome love of knowl-
edge. Besides this, the mother lias a much smaller
number of pupils, and there is vested in her a much
greater power of control, — unless she has given up this
vested right and has no control at all. In this case a
kindergarten or a private teacher is better. An unsuc-
cessful teacher can be changed, but for an unsuccessful
mother there seems to be no remedy.
It is very difficult for the best of officers to rule under
a sovereign who has no authority, so that, in such a case,
it is difllicult for the i)rivate teacher to do her work.
But those are exceptional cases where the mother is
not the best guide for her cliildrcii. This responsibiiitv
156 nuMi: a ad sciiwjl thaisisg.
is laid ii|)()ii Iicr l)y tlio common coiiseut of the age.
She is looked n|>oii as of nccossilv the teacher of
morals and manners to her children ; but to the mode in
which this teaching shall be done very little thought
is usually given. When, however, it is j)lacc(l in her
hands as a part of this early mental training, it becomes
clear how it should be done. Side by side the lessons
lie through all our lives. They may fail of their aim,
but moral growth is {he finale, the crown of mental cul-
ture; and, on the other hand, the moral insight that is
not grounded on mental perceptions is a plant without
root. The mother should be the best judge of the
amount of tension her child can bear at one time, and
can suit her time to those occasions when the child is
best fitted to receive that which she wishes to impart.
She may be a peripatetic, like Aristotle, or give in-
struction, as did other Greek philosophers, in academic
groves, where she can call the pleasant forces of nature
and its beauties to her aid.
A little girl of three years, who had a constitutional
dread of storms, had the necessity of this mode of
cleansing the atmosphere explained to her, and was told
that, though they sometinifs did considerable harm, this
result was rare as compared with mischief from other
sources. After this she talked about the thunder and
lightning, when she heard the storms approaching,
without any signs of fear. But one night it darkened
rapidly, and a violent gust of wind shook the house.
Clasping her little hands together, she shook from head
to foot; but, looking up the next moment to the friend
at her side, she said, with a pleasant smile, " It shivers
me when it comes like that."
CROWDED PRIMARY SCHOOLS. 157
Section V.— Crowded Primary Schools.
In whatever way the preliminary work for the child
may he clone, the primary school soon forces itself upon
the attention of the parents. Tlie primary public schools
in our cities are almost universally overcrowded, so
much so that, under any known system of ventilation,
it is almost impossible to keep the air in a wholesome
state. And at no time in his life is a child less able to
bear this onslaught ujion his physical health than dur-
ing this growing period. At this time the quality of
the air breathed is a matter of more importance even
than the quality of the instruction, and it is a thing
which should be looked into personally by the parents.
Not that the father or mother should accompany the
child to school of a morning, and stand in the room for
twentv minutes when the children are oatherin<j: and
the air is at its best, but that one of them should droj)
in in the middle of the session, when the results of
overcrowding have reached their maximum, and the
teacher, in the great pressure of her cares, has perhaps
forgotten to use such means of ventilation as she has at
her command. There is, perhaps, no time when a little
extra expense in the child's education will give better
results than here. It may be that the right thing in
the way of a public school is just at hand ; but with a
timid, delicate child it is often true that a small pri-
vate school is better suited to his wants. It should be
a real school, however, not a show school. " But," says
the public-school teacher, "if he begins work in a pri-
vate school, he can never work into our system of in-
struction." If he has had i)r()per training at home, he
14
158 110MJ-: AND SCHOOL THAI NINO.
cjin work \\\{o any reasonable system of instruction.
He may not have learned to study hooks, but he has
learned to find the kernel of the niit in whatever form
the hard shell is presented to him. If he cannot break
it himself, he knows where to find the assistance re-
quired.
Section VI.— Scatter-brain Schools.
It is often objected to small private schools tliat they
give neither wholesome discipline nor any appreciable
results of study. If the school is slightly equipped and
attempts to cover a wide range of study, it is hardly
possible that this should not be true. The small num-
ber of teachers, dividing their forces among so many
branches, and among pupils of very different ages, find
time neither for forcible teaching nor for reasonable
control. It is folly to say that a child is pursuing a
serious study in which he receives one or two brief
lessons a week. But this is a common device of those
small schools that, with limited teaching capabilities,
attempt everything, for only in some such way can they
even appear to accomplish that which they attempt.
They may well be called scatter-brain schools, for their
chief office is to dissipate the energies of the pupils
and prevent them from obtaining any useful knowl-
edo-e. Possibly some automatic work may be partially
learned in this way, or an acquirement already obtained
kept in some degree of practice. But the attention
which is frittered away in such varied directions grasjis
nothing of value. "One thing at a time" is the con-
stant injunction of mature lifej for maturity avoids
confusion in that which it wishes to learn. How much
TIMID CHILDREN. 159
more necessary is it, then, for the fochh- powers of at-
tention the young child possesses, to avoid confusion in
his mental training! The power of the teacher, too, is
weakened by this ever-varying work, and the teaching-
power becomes simply a work of skill in veneering.
Such a teacher, in the attempt to accomplish that wiiich
is impossible, usually learns to rule by stratagem, rather
than by methods that are systematic and well thought
out ; and in this process the respect of the pupil and
the self-respect of the teacher are pretty sure to be lost.
This is, perhaps, the worst feature in such a school.
How can a pupil receive moral instruction, or even a
high order of mental instruction, from a teacher he
does not respect? Indeed, no teacher should allow
himself to remain in charge of a pupil whose respect
he cannot gain ; and no parent should leave his child
long in the charge of a teacher towards whom he can-
not bring him not only to show, but to feel, proper
respect. If the teacher is worthy of respect, and the
pupil cannot be brought to some appreciation of this
fact, the fault is with the pupil ; but, back of this, it
can probably be traced to some subtle influence of the
parents, one or both ; in which case the continuance of
the relation is almost as useless as if the teacher were
the one in error. But one who teaches must have
power as well as worth : worth without power is not
worth in the school-room.
Section VII.— Timid Children.
But if the school wo have meiuioned is confined to
primary work, none of these objections need lie against
it. The work of the teachers is classified, and thus
160 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
hroiiglit within proper limit, iiiul their iniiidB are free
to pursue a natural ami kindly method of dis<-'i|)lin(',
and to give that special attention to the intelleetnal
growth of each child that is so much needed by young
children, and especially by those children who are nat-
urally shrinkinijj, and who, without the ri<fht teaching,
would probably elect to sutler rather than tight their
own battles in the world. A lame boy once came to
a new teacher who had marked his essay for a public
reading, ami asked to be excused. The teaclier asked
why he wished to be excused. "On account of my
lameness," said the boy : " the other teachers have
always excused rae." " Do you mean that you are not
willing to come upon the stand because of your lame-
ness ?" " Yes, ma'am," said the boy ; and then, as the
teacher still looked at him, he added, "The pupils will
all laugh if I come limping up the steps." "So much
the worse for the pupils," said the teacher, with an
indignant flush. " I think they w ill laugh but once."
" I am used to their laughing," said the boy, coloring
painfully; "but it would be harder in a place like that."
" Why do they laugh ? For any fault of yours ?" " Xo,
ma'am." " But for a thiny; which should call out their
sympathy. The hardness that gives them power to
laugh at such a thing is a greater misfortune than your
lameness. But you will meet some such people through
your whole life, and the thing for you to do is to teach
yourself not to care. The sooner you do this the less
will be the torture, and your indifference will tend to
stop the rudeness. Your shrinking seems to invite it.
You can never go through the world in this sensitive
way. I prefer to have you read." •' My mother told
PUBLIC SCHOOLS. 161
rae to speak to you about it." "Very well ; tell your
mother what I think, and come to me again." The
next day the boy informed his teacher that he would
read. "I am very glad," was the reply. " But I may
break down." " If you break down you must try
again, and so on until there is no danger of breaking
down." When the boy limped up the steps and took
his place in front of the teacher, there was a derisive
smile on a few faces; but it was quelled at once, and
soon gave way to a look of surprise as the reader went
on with his substantial essay ; and the applause he re-
ceived when he finished was not stinted on account
of his lameness. Many a child of this nature, who
finds himself unable in point of physical strength to
hold his own among his compeers, would never learn
that he may acquire a moral strength that will stand
him well in stead unless he were led to this perception
by some one whose range of vision is wider than his
own.
Section VIII.— Public Schools.
It is often said that the power of disciplining and
of holding pupils to their work is much greater in our
public schools than it can be in any private school, and
this for the reason that the teachers are not dependent
entirely on their own power in this matter, but that
there is a power behind the throne which prevents the
pupils from supposing that school rules can be broken
over. The school is held to its work by the power of
a government, and thus its results are far more assured.
This is true. But those who, while enjoying these re-
sults, demand that greater elasticity shall be introduced
into our public schools, do not seem to see that they are
I 14*
lf]2 HOME AND SClKKtL rilAINING.
deinauding a contiiulictictii. An army that is skir-
mishing in all directions cjiniiot at the same time march
forward to its destination with equal steadiness. The
skirmishing schools are not the schools that secure fixed
results. The moment the elasticity demanded is given,
and pupils are allowed to select their own rate of prog-
ress and route of progress, the classes are multiplied,
the teaching force must be increased, the number of
furnished class-rooms increased, — :the expense in every
way increased. The only way in which parents can
find the " local option," or the " family option," they so
frequently demand in a fixed system of instruction, is
to allow their children to accompany the regular classes
by such routes as they find practicable, which in any
large school would be sinuous enough. But this, if
permitted by the authorities, is rarely found satisfac-
tory to parents or teachers; for the teachers find that
such pupils, having no spur of class standing or of
coming examinations, and with the settled idea that
their work is to be of the lightest, are the drones of
the class.
And the parents, while quite willing that their chil-
dren shall give up a portion of the work, appear often
to have no idea that they must at the same time give
up a portion of the results. They seem to expect them
to be conveyed forward by the strength of the teachers
until they have accomplished all that an education can
require of them. But education is not a conveyance.
It is a road where the pupil goes afoot, — where he can-
not get over the ground at all without putting forth
his own strength. The reason he does not also go alone
is because he would lose his way and waste the effort
PARENTAL AMBITION. J63
he puts forth. A good student, who had been advised
by his physician to go slowly, might take such a posi-
tion with advantage. And so indeed might all to whom
slower work is desirable, if a proper understanding
could be reached between parents and teachers. And
this can be done as soon as the value of the study itself
is made the true prompter to work, rather than the
ambitious impulse given by class standing or the fear
of examination.
Section IX.— Parental Ambition.
This is a question which reaches the whole commu-
nity,— parent, teacher, and pupil, — and until the love
of study for its oun sake takes the place of an ambi-
tion to shine in one's classes, the same difficulty will
stand in the way of the pupil, and the evils of cram-
ming and overwork will tind their place in the school-
room. Those who stand so much in fear of overwork
can easily remove their children from school for a year
or two as they reach the point of academic work, and
suiFer them to make that provision against financial
disaster which is so much needed in this country by
the learning of some handicraft, as was suggested a
little way back. The pupil would graduate later, but
there would be a gain, rather than a loss, in the value
of his education, from the greater maturity reached be-
fore he leaves school. But the almost luiiversal feeling
of parents is in the opposite direction. It is not the
influence of the school-room alone which drives pupils
to such dread of their examinations as fretpieutly
shuts them out from all hope of success; for the state
of excitement, and the hurried erowding ol" one lesson
164 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
upon ;inotlier, i.s the worst thing po.s«ible for a fair
showing in the examinations of what the pupil has
acquired. It is a very common decision of educators
that, whatever otlier spur may come in, parental ambi-
tion is the strongest {)r(>mpter to overwork.
Tiiis "power behind the tiirone" which has been
mentioned as existing in our public schools is often
equalled, if not excelled, by the prestige of well-estab-
lished private schools, whose standing before the public
is such that their decisions will rarely be questioned.
And it is either an extreme of fashion or a real excel-
lence that gives such prestige to any school. Usually
it is only po.sitive excellence that will hold the long-
continued approval of the public.
CHAPTER XI.
CULTIVATION OF THE UNDEKSTANDINQ.
Section I.— To What End?
It is a hackneyed saying that the aim of education
is to fit one for life ; but, practically, our education is
sometimes planned as if this well-worn saying were not
true. It means, of course, that such light as an educa-
tion can give shall be thrown upon our practical daily
living, not upon a theoretical or ideal life. It is said
in Eno-land that a classical education is the education
of a gentleman, which may be supposed to mean there
that it is not an education for the common people. It
CULTIVATION OF THE UNDERSTAXDING. ]65
gives, we may say, the niceties of un education, — a love
of old literature, of old poetic measures, of old speeu-
lations in philosophy and morality, as, for example, the
assertion of Cicero that " the gladiatorial shows were
the best possible schools for teaching bravery and ron-
tempt of death to the youth of the country," and vari-
ous other ideas equally foreign to our own. And it
teaches, most of all, where it teaches anything, not a
great amount of logic or power of judgment, but a
marked power over language. But it does not give
the " bread and brawn" of education suited to the
middle and lower classes, to the mechanic or business-
man. This, at least, is what we may infer from the
assertion that this is the education of a gentleman.
But the tradesman and the mechanic also need to be
fitted for life. Without the commercial life of Eng-
land, where would its nobility be? However it may
be defended, no nation is sustained by a military edu-
cation, or by the education of its gentlemen. And if
a classical education does not fit for the life whicii sus-
tains the country, why should those be called "philis-
tines" who demand an education which will do this?
Are they fighting against the chosen people? It looks
as if they were fighting for them, — not trying to take
the ark, but to preserve it, — always supposing that a
classical education, which makes up so largely what is
called a higher education, is fitted to a select few, and
not to the masses. According to this idea, our own
country, which is called a "nation of tradesmen,"
would have little use for a classical education. We
should have to adopt from (iernianv its real s<-lio<ils,
and not its gymnasia. But we have seen that a irrtain
166 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
aiiioinit of study of ancient or ino<lern languages is
of value to all.
We cling to that which has been long the custom,
without stopping to ask ourselves whether the custom
has not outgrown its" usefulness. We seem to confine
our scekings to material things, to acquirc'm(;nts that
we can count, rather than to the power of clear mental
perceptions. But the power over, or success in, mate-
rial things depends upon the clearness of our mental
perceptions ; and, if this were not so, it is true that a
man's value depends upon what he is, and not upon
what he has. The fitness of a man for life in all its
phases makes up what he is, and nothing is more
needed than that we should see what a given course of
education does for us. We all acknowledge — osten-
sibly, if not practically — that a moneyed success is not
the only or the highest success in life; but. the means
of maintaining our physical life is, nevertheless, the
first consideration : without it, we should have no
mental life to maintain.
Our error is in endeavoring to make this consider-
ation the only one, and, when we have once acquired
the means of maintenance, in continuing to keep them
up without limit, with little regard to the duties and
enjoyments of life. One result of this universal race
for wealth is, that when its exactions are removed from
any class of people they appear to think that they have
nothing to do. They may rouse themselves presently
to the enjoyments of life, but its duties they look upon
as being performed for them by others. A consider-
able number of the mothers who fail in the home in-
struction of their children belong to this class. It is
CULTIVATION OF THE UNDERSTANDING. 167
natural that when one leading object absorbs the atten-
tion of communities, other things should be lost sight
of in the general opinion. The question, then, of how
much strength we can give to direct mental discipline,
and how much to that study which will fit us for the
practical business of our individual lives, will depend
upon the time each student may have at command.
Some time must be given to direct mental discipline,
or one's business acquirements will be of the meanest.
Beyond this, the special courses in our schools make
fair provision. If an education, in whatever form,
puts in our hands the power to make of ourselves what
we ought to be, we cannot deny its value. We cannot
acquire this power in the present age without an educa-
tion in some form.
And especially mothers cannot be fitted for this
important work in the nursery without some other
education than one of accomplishments. These accom-
plishments may give them the power to shine in soci-
ety, and so to secure positions in life, for the duties
of which their education has given them no fitness
whatever. But when this thing comes to be looked
upon as it ought, and especially when the majority of
our sons have felt the benefit of rightly-managed home
instruction, it will be perceived that the accomplish-
raents that shine in society can never take the place of
that substantial education — that cultivated jutlgmcnt —
which is needed to create a happy and successful home.
And in that day, whatever we do with the accomplish-
ments, the education will be demanded.
If the education given to any individual wastes time
and strength at every turn, some attention is noedi'd to
168 HOME A SI) SCHOOL THAI S ISO.
increase its value. Our foreiathers, in the far-oir times,
ploughed their soil with a crooked bough cut from a
tree. It enabled them, in a poor way, to raise their
corn, and they were grateful for this al^iiity; but our
present plough is better.
Section II.— Cultivation of Memory and Judgment.
The first point in an education is to teach a child
how to use the natural powers of his mind. He
possesses memory and the power 4>f judgment. The
memory is valuable mainly as an a.ssistant to the judg-
ment,— it enables the student to hold clearly in his
mind the points from which he is to draw his conclu-
sions. Cultivated alone, it may make a learned man,
who can say again deftly what wise men have said in
the past, but it will never make the man who moves
forward in original lines of thought. This training
that is given to the memory mainly stirs the soil of
the mind about as deeply as the corn-field is stirred by
using a crooked stick for a plough ; but where proper
discipline is given to the judgment, where the powers
of the mind are brought to their highest uses, the work
of education has carried out its first aim of putting us
in possession of our faculties. The set of facts which
we have obtained in the pursuit of any branch of
knowledge may go from us ; we may cease to remem-
ber many of them, or they may be superseded by new
discoveries and new theories on these points; but the
power of investigation, the strength of mind which
has been acquired in comparing these facts, of discov-
ering their bearings, their relations to each other, to
ourselves, and to the universe of God, ciinnot be re-
MODESTY TAUGHT BY SOUND KSOWLEDGE. 169
moved from us by a treaclierous memory, or by the
discovery of new facts which controvert the old con-
clusions. We can no sooner lose this strength than a
fine gymnast can lose the sturdy, erect figure and
vigorous muscular development which have grown up
with his healthy exercise. We can thus see that the
student who does not think, investigate, reflect, as he
goes on, gets a very poor apology for an education.
The memory is an excellent servant under the hand of
his master, the judgment. Without this master he
wastes the treasures committed to his care. " A little
learning is a dangerous thing," says Pope. We some-
times lose sight of the fact that a little edue^ation is
usually looked upon by the possessor jis far more
important than it really is.
The unwise man, who has placed a clumsy footprint
upon the outer portico of the great temple, may sup-
pcse that he has possessed himself of all its treasures.
He imagines that all men are as ignorant as he had
been before he received his fragment of an education.
In this lies the danger of a little learning. There is
no such unsound theorizer, no such blind partisan, no
sucii scattcrer al)road of wild and dangerous opinions,
as the man who has a small smattering of knowledge
and sui)poses he has the whole thing.
Section III.— Sound Knowledge teaches Modesty and
Self-Poise.
Our early education gives us the key by which we
can unlock the door of the great temple of knowledge
and toil among its treasures, but it gives us only a key;
and the knowledge of this fact, which wo acquire in
H 15
170 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
roceivii)g niiv .sound cdiicalion, is sure to iiiihue us with
iiKxksty in our estimate of oui-selves. We are able to
give substantial reasons for that which we believe, but
we see that this is a very (lifferent thing from under-
stixnding all about that which we believe. We believe
that the huge tree grows from a tiny seed, but we do
not understand how this is accomplished, — we cannot
find the vital force by which this growth has been [)ro-
pelled. W^e believe that our own will or choice con-
trols the motions of our own arm or hand, but we do
not comprehend how this choice acts upon the muscles.
" What is all nature but a manifestation, in visible
forms, of a great army of invisible forces'?" says Dr.
Blackie. Indeed, that with which we have most to
do, and that which concerns us most, is the invisible.
From it we seek our blessings, of it we ask our ques-
tions. Concerning it are the deepest search ings of the
human intellect. That which propels us into conscious-
ness, which maintains the organism of our daily lives,
which closes our vision when we pass out of the world,
is a wholly invisible power, — one of which none of the
senses can take cognizance, — unknowable, we may say,
and yet always there. We cannot, then, deny the in-
visible, or ignore the limits of our human intelligence
which lie so close at hand ; but in these perceptions we
find more than ever the joy of knowing and of trust
beyond our realm of knowing ; and if we have only
learned enough to form some idea of the pleasant fields
that stretch beyond us, we are safe from the dangers of
a little learning. Self-poise and contentment are the
result of this highest form of knowledge.
INADEqUATE TEACHING. 171
Section IV.— Teaching that does not Reach the Under-
standing.
In statistics of illiteracy the boiiiKlarv-linc is placed
at the mere ability to read and write. It is considered
that, with these acquirements, a man can obtain farihcr
knowledge if he chooses; but the manner in wiiith
instruction is often given to those who stop with rcatl-
ing and writing gives them little inducement to go
farther. Accounts are sometimes given of the aston-
ishing ignorance of those who have raised themselves
thus far above the condition of illiteracy, and some-
times even farther. David Stow, founder of the Glas-
gow Normal School, gives the following story: "A few
years ago I visited a school in one of the large towns
in England. . . . On reaching the highest class, in
company with the master and director, I asked the
former if he ever questioned the scholars on what they
read. He answered, 'No, sir; I have no time for
that ; but you may if you please.' I answered that,
except where personally known to the teacher, I never
questioned children in any school. 'By all means do
so now, if you please; but them thick-headed boys can-
not understand a word, I am sure.' Being asked again
to put a few questions, I proceeded : * Boys, sliow me
where you are reading;' and, to do them justice, they
read fluently. The subject was the story of Eli and
his two sons. I caused tiie whole of them to read the
first verse: 'And Eli had two sons, Ilophni and Phin-
eas.' 'Now, children, close your booUs. Well, who
was Eli?' No answer. This question appcand too
high, requiring an exercise of thought and a knowK'tlge
172 UOMI-: AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
not to be found in tlie verse read. I tliorel'ire de-
scended in the scale and proceeded: 'Tell ine how
many sons Eli luul.' 'Ugh?' ' Ifad Eli any sons?'
'Sir?' 'Open your books, if" you please, and read
again.' Three or four read in succession, 'And Eli had
two sons, Ilophni and Phineiis.' ' Now answer me,
boys, How many sons had Eli?' 'Soor?' ' Who do
you think Eli was? Had Eli any sons?' 'Ugh?'
'Was he a man, do you think, or a bird, or a beast?
Who do you think Eli was, children?' 'Soor?' 'Look
at me, children, and answer me this: If Eli had two
sons, do you think his two sons had a father?' 'Soor?'
'Think, if you please, had Eli ANY sons?' No an-
swer. ' A\'ell, since you cannot tell me how many sons
Eli had, how many daughters had he, think you ?'
'Three, sir.' 'Where do you find that, children?
Look at your Bibles. Who told you that Eli had
three daughters?' 'Ugh?' The director turned on
his heel, and the master said, ' Xow, sir, didn't I tell
you them fellows could not understdud a wordf " This
occurred, probably, within the last thirty years. The
excess of stupidity shown is certainly marvellous, but
we have some similar revelations nearer home. To
these belongs the story of the " show-scholar," who was
called up on all occasions to give the different capitals
of the United States, and who, when asked by a visitor
what these capitals were, decided, after some questioning,
that they were animals.
A recent examination, held in a different class of
schools and under the best of examiners, showed a
remarkable lack among the pupils in the knowledge
of common things. In intelligent answers, the pupils
A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY. 173
from the kindergartens were said to avt-rage higlicr
than the rest. In these cases the examiners are search-
ing for what the ciiildren ought to know, but very often
for what they have had no opportiniity to know. Tiie
pupils of the English school just described evidently
had no thought that the words thoy were reading were
intended to convey any ideas to their minds.
Section V.— A Voyage of Discovery in Children's Minds.
Some years since, a lady who had charge of a class
of teachers who were preparing for work in the public
schools was frequently met, in her suggestions with
regard to what should be done to draw out the powers
of young children, by the assertion that they did not
know enough, that they could not be made to under-
stand, etc. These suggestions were mainly in the direc-
tion of methods of discovering thought in the minds
of children, so that the teachers could work out from
what they knew to what they did not know. After
listening to the opinions of the class, who had most of
them been teachers in the common schools, she deter-
mined to see for herself how far this was correct. She
had never taught in this direction, and she now went
into the lower departments of the school, and selected
two primary classes, which she could take under her
own charge in a daily lesson. Her plan was to form
them into composition classes, as the readiest means
of getting at what they really knew, what they were
thinkincr about. The children in one of these cla.sscs
had just entered the school, and were five or six years
of age. The others were a little older, — from six to
ten, — and some of them could read and write fairly.
16*
174 HOME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO.
Day after day pupils were selected who were to give
to the teacher an account of something which they
knew of their own knowledge, while she wrote out the
story jast as it was given. They were to be sure that
they were correct in their facts, to make clear state-
ments, such as the other children could understand,
saying in each sentence just what they meant to say,
and to finish any point they commenced unless other-
wise directed. Taking tiieni in this way, with the
privilege of bringing out their individual observations,
she was not only not surprised at their stupidity, but
had reason to wonder at the correctness of their ob-
servations, as well as at the clear manner in which
they were stated. The classes were allowed to criticise
the statements made and the language used, and if the
facts were in any way confused, or the sentence incor-
rect, the little hands came up and the tiling was set
right at once. The child was allowed to use its own
judgment in accepting or rejecting the criticism of the
class in regard to the formation of the sentence. It
was always written in the form given.
It was singular to hear from the lips of a little child
the foundation of some long-established rhetorical rule
given as a reason for some criticism, and the teacher
was strengthened in the opinion that the principles of
good taste have a deep foundation in the human mind.
Some of the class were remarkable for their readiness
in illustration. When the power of direct expression
seemed lacking, a quick and sometimes amusing illus-
tration would make the whole thing clear. There was
at times a disposition to mix fact and fancy, but tliey
were held strictly to their task of dealing oulv with
A VOYAGE OF DISCOVER}'. 175
actual facts by the criticisms of the class. One day a
little girl spoke of a spring flowing over a " mossy
bed." "The bed was covered with moss, was it?" said
the teacher, knowing something of the nature of the
springs in that vicinity. The child rubbed her hands,
one over another, without making any reply. " Where
was the spring?" asked the teacher. "I don't believe
there was any moss there," said the child, looking up.
" What was it, then ?" " There was grass at the sides."
" What made you think it was moss?" The child hesi-
tated. " She got it out of a book," murmured the
master-critic of the class. " What kind of a bed had
the spring?" Silence. "Was it pebbly?" "No,
ma'am ; it was just dirt." " Muddy, then ? Siiall I
say muddy?" "No, ma'am." "Why not?" There
was no reply, and our master-critic can\e forward once
more. "'Tisu't nice," he said, "and she is talking
about things that are nice." " Then, if the bed of the
spring was muddy?" "I wouldn't say anything about it."
After a time those who could write began to i)ring in
private efforts of their own, which were sometimes read,
and, after some solicitation, they were permitted to write
something which they had drawn from their imagina-
tion, provided it was wholly of this kind. They were
not to mix fact and fancy, the aim being to teach them
to keep these things entirely separate in their minds, .<o
that clearness and precision of thinking might be ac-
quired. In this work the criticisms of the class were
still more marked, and those who wrote were iield to
the laws of probability and good taste by such remarks
as, "That couldn't be," or, " It isn't right to mix up
sober things aj)d fuimy things in that way."
17G HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
There was in the older of these classes a boy who
hated his school, his books, and everything connected
with tlieni, and who was consequently a great trial to
his teachers. The teacher noticed him from tlie first
as showing an indifference to the work which was un-
necessarily pronounced, and left him to himself until
nearly all the class had taken their turn. Then she
told him he might be ready with some topic for the
next day. ** Don't know anything," was the brief
answer, "/ie don't like to come here," said a boy in
the class, turning a look of solemn indignation on the
delinquent. "Do you mean to say that you know
nothing at all?" said the teacher. "Not that kind."
"No 'kind' is called for. Anything you know will
answer. You are not quite ready to say that you know
nothino; at all ?" " Nothino- that's o;ood enono;h." An-
other was substituted in his place, and he was let off
for a brief period ; but at last he M'as ready for his
story, which he began in the most stolid and apathetic
way, giving only barren facts, in words so brief that
they could scarcely be called sentences. They were
written as he gave them, without any remark, until a
point came up in which a boy could hardly fail to feel
some interest, when the teacher threw in an absurd
question upon his poverty-stricken statements : " It was
in such a way, I suppose?" The boy straightened
himself from his lounging, indifferent position. " No,
ma'am, it was not!" he exclaimed, and went on with a
close description of the thing as it was, showing that
the event as it lay in his mind was filled with details
of the highest interest. When his turn came again the
winter snows were just breaking up, and she gave him
ILL-SELECTED MENTAL FOOD. |77
a choice of topics involving some necessary observation
of the forces of nature at work at this time. As she
suspected, the ro.si)unse was a revehition of the topics
with which this boy's mind was occupied. The knowl-
edge of the school-room he hated, l)ut that of out-door
life he had pulled up by the roots and examined, and
there was no ai)atliy in his account of what he ()l)sorvod.
Section VI.— Ill-Selected Mental Food.
What was needed here was a connecting line of kin-
dred topics, over which his mind could pass with inter-
est to the varied exerci.ses of school-life. In every case
the teacher must come down himself to the bridge ou
which the child's mind is trying to cross, — must put
himself fully in the child's place.
Herbert Si)encer says, in " Education," " Who, in-
deed, can watch the ceaseless observation and inquiry
and inference going on in a child's mind, or listen to
its acute remarks ujwn matters within the range of its
faculties, without perceiving that these powers which it
manifests, if brought to bear systematically upon any
studies within the same range, would readily nuuster
them without help? This need of perpetual telling is
the result of our stupidity, not the child's. We drag
it away from the facts in which it is interested, and
which it is actively assimilating of itself; we put before
it facts far too complex for it to understand, and there-
fore distasteful to it. Finding that it will not volun-
tarily acquire these facts, we thrust them into its mind
by force of threats and punishment. By thus denying
the knowledge it craves, and cramming it witii a
knowledge it cannot digest, wc produce a morbid
178 JIUME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
state of its faculties, and a disgust for knowledge in
general."
This pa&sage is deserving of tiic close attention of
any mother who cares for the welfare of her child. It
is just here that the work of home instruction has its
place. When the wine of the child's mental activities
sours for lack of care in its first effervescence, it is no
easy matter to restore its sparkle.
This forcing a child to memorize that which he
cannot understand, and therefore hates because of its
barrenness, — to satisfy himself on the canned meats of
second-hand knowledge, always the more unpalatable
in proportion as he has accustomed iiimself to those
fresh meats which nature furnishes for his mental table,
— appears to be an evil inheritance from the manner in
which our Anglo-Saxon civilization was reached.
Section VII.— Value of Original Investigation.
When the wars of the Dark Ages, through which the
present nations of Europe were settled in their places,
were over, and they were ready to accept civilization,
they did not find it in their own investigations, but
received it at second-hand, or, it may be said, at third-
hand ; for the literature of the Latins was not original
with themselves, but was borrowed from the Greeks.
So these Northern nations of Europe, when a period
of leisure and peace gave them room for mental growth,
found a fund of knowledge ready for them, preserved,
with the bones taken out, from the old civilizations of
Southern Europe.
The reverence for that older civilization, the easy
study of a kindred tongue, and the great store of
VALUE OF ORIGINAL INVESTIOATION. 179
knowledge embalmed therein, gave them the highest
respect for authority, and the shortest route for ol)tain-
ing the knowledge they greatly needed. And from that
day to this we have been disposed to regard memory as
the highest faculty of the human mind, and have held
a vague idea that the child had acquired all necessary
knowledge when he could repeat the words of the text-
book, whether he understood them or not : at least the
unreasonino; tradition of the school-room has loni; run
in this direction, until at last teachers began slowly to
perceive that sometimes the most stupid scholar in the
school-room was one who memorized well, Thoui^h
the injunctions of the old Greeks in favor of original
investigation has been for some time echoed by the
Germans and others, it is hard to break " the cake of
custom,"* and we make slow progress toward a change.
But the Greeks themselves were original investigators.
In their schools the work of pupil and teacher was to
study the life about them in whatever form it presented
itself. Not that there was no knowledge back of them,
— their models of architecture and sculpture came, like
themselves, from the East, — but into all that they re-
ceived they put the breath of life, because they studied
from the life; and through this mode of study they
laid the foundation of the growth of Modern Europe.
They were original thinkers, because they studied from
the life. Their ideals of beauty, their philosophy,
their theology, we still, often without knowing it, fol-
low in most jioints — too many, perhaps — with unques-
tioning devotion. Indeed, we are following their ex-
* Bagehot, Politics iirul Progress.
1>S0 IIOMK A AD SCHOOL TRAINING.
ample more and nioiH', — not in their conclusions, but in
their mode of study. It is the mode of study a<lopted
of themselves by all thoroughly active minds, and it is
needed to vivify that great mass of knowledge which
we necessarily receive from authority. As we stand at
present there is a great gap bctAveen the studies which
the child commences in his cradle and those to whicii
he is introduced in the school-room. The attempts of
Pestalozzi and others have been to bridge this chasm ;
but in very many cases the bridge fails to connect,
whether from the fault of the bridge-tenders or of the
bridge-builders is not always easy to see. There is no
question of the correctness of the foundatioji idea as
presented by our educational reformers. It is some-
times pressed into places where it does not belong, and
it has been found, from first to last, that it was one
thing to present the idea, and another to put its details
into practice. It is not common to find original think-
ers in the young teachers of the primary schools, and
even in the teaching by objects the dead routine is often
followed, and the child's mind is not reached. But if
the mother will use the golden opportunity given her
in keeping alive the natural activities of the child's
mind during these years of supposed mental idleness,
it will rarely be found that he cannot of himself connect
his present knowings with the knowledge offered him
in his text-books. Thus a certain amount of knowl-
edge from original investigation — thorough, even if not
extensive — should precede that which is accepted trom
authority. Nothing else will so open the child's under-
standing to his future work, thus lightening and beau-
tifying the years of school-life.
RESULTS OF INHERITANCE. Jgl
There come to mind one or two cases where a mother,
whose skill in housekeeping was at the lowest, has ig-
nored her duties in this line with an easy nonchalance
and devoted herself wholly to her children. In neither
of these cases was the mother a woman of marked
intelligence; but they were Christian women, and its
mothers their devotion was charming. Their time was
spent in playing with their children, wandering with
them through wood and lane, teaching them a little
music or a little drawing, a good deal of love to ani-
mals and knowledge of flowers and fruits, placing
their own mental resources, such as they were, entirely
at the bidding of these children. And, to the surprise
of many, through all the vexations of an ill-arranged
home, these children have come uj) exceptionally well,
both as regards the development of nioral and of
mental strength, — results which have seemed absurd Iv
gratifying to those who lot)ked on reproachfully at these
seemingly neglected homes. In one of these cases the
children showed, as they reached maturity, a decided
love for a w'ell-ordered home, probably from a form of
reactionary development.
Section VIII.— Cases where the Highest Results have
been Secured,
If good results in the training of children can be
reached by such impulsive work as this, what may we
expect from thoughtful and systematic care? Indee<l,
we know what we may expect, for very few of those
who move the world have been without some such aid,
however humble the source, in early life. As I write,
a case comes under my eye, of the combined results of
16
1,S2 HOME ASD SCHOOL TJiAIM.\(i.
i'i«i;lit iiilieritnnce and rij^lit instruction, wliicli is wort! ly
of notice. A review in the Xalion of tlie life of James
Clerk Maxwell, by Lewis Canipljell, says of the subject
of this biography, " Maxwell also j)resents one of the
most remarkable examples on record of tiie influence
of heredity. For more than two hundred years nearly
every generation of the Clerk family had its repre-
sentatives at the bar, on the bench, in the East India
Company's service, in various high government offices.
. . . Proficiency in music, in drawing, in painting, in
works which require quickness of perception and deli-
cacy of touch, seem to have passed down without a
break from generation to generation. They were pre-
eminently persons who could 'do things.' This ten-
dency to keep in constant relation with material things
was most markedly developed in Maxwell's father.
. . . By a rare coincidence. Maxwell's mother belonged
to a family of very similar characteristics, ... a
woman of great executive ability, prompt, courageous,
self-reliant." Of Maxwell himself it is said, ''The
physical organization through which these mental
powers operated was wonderfully fine." And, again,
" His hands were models of symmetry and beauty, and
in his command over them, perhaps, no man ever sur-
passed him." This, too, was probably a gift from his
ancestors, brought about by the " pre-eminent ability"
to "do things" in those who i)receded him. This
review says, further, "A noticeable trait was his sym-
pathy with all living things. . . . No Buddhist ever,
refrained more carefully from harming anything liv-
ing. This love of animals seemed to be reciprocated
by them. His skill in training dogs was something
RESULTS OF INHERITANCE. 183
marvellous. . . . He was a bold and skilful hor>eniau.
His favorite saddle-horse was a high-sj)iritt'tl animal,
which he had himself broken in after several others
had pronounced him incorrigible."
But this tine nature was not all that contributed to
make uj) the strong and useful man. When he was
less than three years old, his father removed to his
estate of Middlebie, and commenced laying out gi'uunds
and erecting a mansion, etc. " He was his own land-
scape-gardener, architect, and builder. The construc-
tion of the ' great house' was to James a source of
continued delight. Not a lock was set, not a bell was
hung, but he was ready with the importunate demand,
'Show me how it doos,' or, ' What's "the go" o' that?'
No vague or general answer satisfied him ; ' but,' he
would persist, 'what's the " particular go" of it?'"
Was the brain of this three-year-old child injured by
these object-lessons in mechanics? Later we find him
"drawing patterns for his aunt, and assorting and
matching colors for her work, cultivating that sense
of form which made hiui the first geometrician of his
class, and that fine appreciation of color which ho
afterward showed in his optical researches, particu-
larly on the sul)ject of color-blindness." Why was
this boy at home "drawing patterns for his aunt"*.'
How came it that he was not gaining physical strength
by "drawing patterns" of mischief out of doors, like
other boys of his acquaintance ? How, unless there
was a family habit of showing to children the " par-
ticular go" of things, which had preserved in them a
strain of strength and talent through these two Imn-
dred years, and which made home the most delightful
184 llOMI'l AND SCUOUL TllMNIS'G.
place in which they could hunt down the knowle<lge
they rocjuircd? These long generations, then, of" men
and women of exceptional talent had not worn out
the j)hy.sical strength of their descendants. Their
"positions of responsibility," their "exertion of brain-
power," their " nervous teusioD," had not made weak-
lings of themselves or their descendants, as one class
of school critics would have us accept as the inevitable
result of such activity. This study of object-lessons
in raeclianics at three years old did not seem to check
the after-progress of this hungry mind. We wonder
that so much question should be made as to the
results of this kind of training, when we hardly take
up a biography of one whose life is worthy of our
attention witiiout finding that some such bias has
been given in early life. !A. few great men are excep-
tions to this rule, but their talent has usually broken
through the shell which bound it late in life and after
considerable struggle; and who can tell how much
genius has perished in this struggle? Undoubtedly a
child of specially active mind pushes his inquiries with
more determination, and thus receives more attention ;
but the more quiet child requires it all the more for
this reason.
Section IX.— Two Theories.
Between the fearful class of educational critics who
would bring up their children on the know-nothing
system, in order that they may make " good animals,"
and those who go to the opposite extreme of supposing
that a young person can finish a varied course of study
in the time which a mature mind would require to
TWO THEORIES. 185
learn one or two things well, there is nuicii (iifficulty
in getting a unanimity of opinion in regard to any
given programme or method of development. True,
discussion is like the current in a stream : it freshens
and purifies. But if the pupil must wait while the
discussion goes on, or be thrown back often in his work
on account of the changes made, the results, however
valuable to those who carry them on, are very disas-
trous to him. The real outcome of these differences in
many of our common schools might be compared to
the work in a ship-yard where the master-builder is
changed once a month. The ground is strewn with
plenty of timber, a great deal of hewing has been dnne,
a great deal of planning and heaping up of material,
but each successive master has ignored the work of his
predecessor and started upon a new plan, and the result
is a great loss of material, a great loss of means in the
structure to be built. In the school-room tlius UKin-
aged the pupil is the sufferer, and the community shouUl
look for a remedy.
Tliere is much complaint of the shortness of the
time allotted to study in high schools and academies, —
a feeling that it is not sufficient for the work that needs
to be done. But this time would be less cramped if it
were not often seriously curtailed before it begins by
the incompleteness of the work which professes to be
done in the lower schools ; and one of the hintieranccs
that occurs here has just been mentioned. But this is
not all : if. the pupils from these schools have done
even a portion of their work thoroughly it is a great
gain ; but if no enthusiasm has ever been rouse«l, if
the page of his text-book awakens no Interest on the
16*
186 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
part of the pupil, no gntsj) of the understand in{^, then
the work of" reclaiming tiie waste field of the mind
makes a sail inroad upon the time which should be
given to positive advancement. There is often in our
common schools a lack of clear and comprehensive
statements in the text-l)Ooks, or a lack of clearness on
the part of the teacher, — a lack of energy and impress-
iveness in imparting what would otherwise be clear.
Tiie pupil, once aroused, knows inevitably what we are
teaching him; asleep, he knows nothing. With the
foundation-work thus done there is little time to give
roundness and finish to the knowledge imparted in a
more advanced course, — a thing which is like the stamp
of the mint in securing its value. The brain, when
all is done, resembles more nearly a miscellaneously-
packed garret than a neatly-furnished house. But sys-
tematic mental discipline, obtained in some way, is the
one foundation fiar mental stamina; and mental stamina
is a thing greatly needed by every man or woman.
Thus the structure of knowledge that is not in some
way crowned by the turrets of wisdom is like a house
without a roof, left to be disintegrated by the winds
and storms, or to form brickbats for the mob, as we
have so often seen in the past history of the world, and
are still seeing.
The brilliant sayings of some superficial theorizer,
who has known how to mingle some half-truths with
his erratic visions, have more than once set the world
on fire, and his half-truths were really tlie brickbats
of the mob.
WASTED ENERGY. 187
Section X.— Wasted Energy.
The theory of the manual-labor schools has been
that we could rest by chauge of work, — that when the
brain was wearied with prolonged study the muscles
were still good for sturdy work. In this the theorizers
ignored the fact that, though the muscles may be exer-
cised in an automatic manner, without mental effort, as
in walking, horseback-riding, or gymnastics, yet when
they were called to real work the brain worked too.
It was found that the student might work well or
might study well, — one, but not both at the same
time; and the reason was clear: there is only a given
amount of strength in any human body, and when we
have used it up in one direction we cannot have the
same strength to use over again in another. The food
for brain and muscle is cooked in the same laboratory,
and the fresh blood that it sent out is used up equally
by one or the other ; every effort made by either helps
to exhaust it, and that which has been used by the
brain cannot afterward go to supply the muscles. Only
so much food can be used as the system will assimilate,
and when an over-demand is made upon brain or mus-
cle the power to assimilate is weakened. The student
who does this is using up both interest and capital at
the same time, and his power grows every day less.
Thus the theory will work only when no exhausting
or exhaustive work is given. An important inference
from this is, that a great deal of the machinery used in
schools to make them appear well is really wasted time
and strength. The evolutions of the school are made
purposely burdensome in order to show what promptness
188 IIOMK AND SCHOOL TRAINING.
of motion the children can acquire. These " martinet
scliools" are better fitted to train soldiers than schohirs,
and are more successful in that direction. The use of
government in a school is to remove all hindcrances
from the pursuit of knowledge, not to put hindcrances
in the way of it.
These hinderances may exist in the disposition of the
pupil himself, or in the manner in which others are
allowed to interfere with his opportunities to study.
A puj)il in the study-room, intent upon his lessons,
who has just behind him an idler disposed to whisper
to him continually, is thus interfered with to an extent
which may deprive him entirely of the power to do his
work. Thus whispering must not be allowed in the
study-room. In moving from study-room to class-
room the pupils must move in line, otherwise they
would rise at random from their seats in each other's
way, and the orderly movement would change at once
to that of a rabble. These illustrations are sufficient
to show the aim of school government in securing to
each pupil the same rights, and only so much is needed
as will do this.
The idle pu})il cannot be allowed to intrude on the
busy one, and it is the duty of the teacher to adjust
these rights. There is also frequently a waste of time
and strength in the manner in which lessons are ar-
ranged. Take, as an illustration, an old method of
teaching mental arithmetic. The pupil was required
to commit to memory the statement of the problems,
as well as to solve them. It looked very fine to see
the child rise from his seat when the problem was
called lor by number, state it correctly, and then pro-
MORAL USE OF SCHOOL DISVIPLIMC. 189
ceed to its solution; Imt the mental process reqnin-d
for the solution was just as clear and exact in his mind
when he had the book open before iiim (the book con-
taining nothing but the statement), and the time and
strength needed for memorizing it might as well have
been given to other things. . Very many feats of mem-
ory of this kind may be made to adorn a school-room;
but when the memory is to be exercised, it may as well
be done upon things that are also useful in some other
way, not upon tho.se that are sim[)ly learned to be
forgotten.
Section XI.— Moral Use of School Discipline.
An important [)oint in the discipline of the school-
room, and one wortiiy the attention of parents, is, that
when rightly managed it becomes in itself a moral
discipline. Its aim is the adjustment of the relations
between pupils, and the work of securing to each his
personal rights; and it encourages the habit of mutual
concession, of looking into affairs from other stand-
points than our own. The man who, whether in the
region of poetry, of art, or of philosophy, sees most
deeply into the relations of life is the one capable of
the highest moral action. He is no longer all in all to
himself; he is but an atom in a universe who.se law is
harmony, and the harmonious working of this law Im
of more importance than any changeful atom that be-
longs to it can be. The man incai)able of high moral
action sees very obscurely into the harmony of these
relations. He is so hedged about with the wall of his
own .selfishness that he is able to see little beyond. He
cannot see tiie beauty of action from high ])rin(iple, he
190 HOME AND SCHOOL TUMSISO.
knows nothing of" the joy oi" it.s pertorniance. But the
child learns to understand tlie bonds that bind him to
his fellows little by little, and the well-modulated order
and the mutual concessions of the school-room are
among his early teachers. Dr. Bain says, " If the
teacher has the consummation of tact that makes the
l)upils to any degree in love with the work, so as to
maUe them submit with cheerful and willing minds to
all the needful restraints, and to render them, on the
whole, well dispo.-fed to himself and to each other, he is
a moral instructor of a high order, whether he knows
it or not. . . . As an intellectual or scientific expositor,
probably also as a persuasive monitor, he concentrates
and methodizes the scattered and random impressions
of every-day life, so that a day in his courts is better
than a thousand in the general world."
In many well-established schools there is found as a
basis of sentiment among the pupils a sense of honor,
a contempt for low, dishonorable conduct, that is no
unimportant accessory of a school. It is requisite,
however, that this should be a well-balanced, and not a
one-sided, sense of honor, — not one where two or three
gentlemanly virtues can exist, and leave room for a
goodly array of inhuman vices. Such a view of virtue
is founded upon an entire misunderstanding of the basis
of morality.
For the most part we can depend upon schools, and
especially upon our public schools as they now stand,
for nothing more than a continuance of the moral train-
ing received at home. Of the home influence of the
mother, Jean Paul says, " How often are your night-
watches recompensed by a child's coffin, but your day-
MORAL USE OF SCHOOL DLSCII'LJM:. 1J)1
watches over liis mind ever by rich daily rewards. If
you once believe that everything depends on education,
what name do you deserve when, precisely as your posi-
tion is high, you intrust the education of your children
to persons of lower rank; and, while the children of
the middle classes have their parents, those of tiie higher
classes have only nurses and maids as the directors of
their path in life." And, again, " And I can assure
brides, and still more certainly bridegrooms, that they
will only find the child len of aflectionate parents affw-
tiouate, and that a kind or an unkind father })ropagates
love or hatred in his children." According to the laws
of inheritance, as well as of example, we should expect
to find this true. And it is important to us in ordering
the relations of life in our own homes, as well as else-
where, to add our own observations, and ascertain for
ourselves how far these parental influences extend.
We have also from Jean Paul this hopeful word for
mothers: "The fruits of the right education of the first
three years (a higher triennium than the academic) can-
not be reaped during the sowing ; . . . but in a few
years the growing harvest will surprise and reward
you, for the numerous earthy crusts which covered the
flower-shoots, but did not crusii them, have at last burst
before them."
Section XII.— Education shows "How to Live." as well
as "How to Think."
Finally, as we have suggested, now ro livk, as well
as now TO THINK, is an all-important comixment in the
work of education. He fails to teach who fails to show
the relations of things; and the relations ot" things, of
192 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAININO.
parts rouiuled to a whole, of all the facts in tlio uni-
verse, point to wise living when their meaning is per-
ceived. The place to teach morals intelligibly is in con-
nection with the mental growth. These moral lessons
receive emphasis and vitiility from every ])oint that
has been rightly taught. P^ducation is civilization, and
civilization ])oints us how to live, how to better the ex-
ternal condition of man, and thus to make man better.
The earnest mother, the true teacher, is filled with this
moral sense. The child feels it in the glance with
which a mean action is reproved, in the delight with
which the works of God are studied, in the perception
of adaptation as the touch of the Creative Hand, the
sense of fitness everywhere. Yielding himself to this
influence, and moulded by it, he has received in his
education the highest benefit that knowledge can be-
stow. And however true it may be, in the present
structure of society, that increased opportunities of
independence, of honorable self-support, should be
given to woman in connection with a higher education,
it is also true tiiat no nobler career can be offered her
than this of moulding the intellectual stature of her
children. When she sits, crowned with the soft hoai*-
frost of years and waiting for her transfiguration, with
her sons and daughters about her, shaped by her hand
in lineaments of strength and symmetry, and looking
upon her as their centre, the first and latest blessing
of their lives, what reward can equal this which she
has won?
STATE NORMAL SCHOOL,
iios Rficnu-'^. c:-.u.
STATE NORMAL SCHOUL,
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
Los Angeles
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.
.^:^ in '1^1
MAR 2
i 1989
QiJHNZ3 J995
AC MAYO.
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