referring to books, the writing and reading of letters; this everlasting
mixture of amusement with book-learning, made me, almost to my own
surprise, find, at the end of the two years, that I had a parcel of
_scholars_ growing up about me; and, long before the end of the time, I
had _dictated many Registers_ to my two eldest children. Then, there was
_copying_ out of books, which taught _spelling correctly_. The
calculations about the farming affairs forced arithmetic upon us: the
_use_, the _necessity_, of the thing, led to the study. By-and-by, we
had to look into the _laws_ to know what to do about the _highways_,
about the _game_, about the _poor_, and all rural and _parochial_
affairs. I was, indeed, by the fangs of the government, defeated in my
fondly-cherished project of making my sons farmers on their own land,
and keeping them from all temptation to seek vicious and enervating
enjoyments; but those fangs, merciless as they had been, had not been
able to prevent me from laying in for their lives a store of useful
information, habits of industry, care, sobriety, and a taste for
innocent, healthful, and manly pleasures: the fangs had made me and them
pennyless; but, they had not been able to take from us our health or our
mental possessions; and these were ready for application as
circumstances might ordain.
306. After the age that I have now been speaking of, _fourteen_, I
suppose every one _became_ a reader and writer according to fancy. As to
_books_, with the exception of the _Poets_, I never bought, in my whole
life, any one that I did not _want_ for some purpose of _utility_, and
of _practical utility_ too. I have two or three times had the whole
collection snatched away from me; and have begun again to get them
together as they were wanted. Go and kick an ANT's nest about, and you
will see the little laborious, courageous creatures _instantly_ set to
work to get it together again; and if you do this ten times over, ten
times over they will do the same. Here is the sort of stuff that men
must be made of to oppose, with success, those who, by whatever means,
get possession of great and mischievous power.
307. Now, I am aware, that that which _I did_, cannot be done by every
one of hundreds of thousands of fathers, each of whom loves his children
with all his soul: I am aware that the attorney, the surgeon, the
physician, the trader, and even the farmer, cannot, generally speaking,
do what I did, and that they must, in most cases, send their _sons_ to
school, if it be necessary for them to have _book-learning_. But while I
say this, I know, that there are _many things_, which I did, which many
fathers might do, and which, nevertheless, _they do not do_. It is in
the power of _every father_ to live _at home with his family_, when not
_compelled_ by business, or by public duty, to be absent: it is in his
power to set an example of industry and sobriety and frugality, and to
prevent a taste for gaming, dissipation, extravagance, from getting root
in the minds of his children: it is in his power to continue to make his
children _hearers_, when he is reproving servants for idleness, or
commending them for industry and care: it is in his power to keep all
dissolute and idly-talking companions from his house: it is in his power
to teach them, by his uniform example, justice and mercy towards the
inferior animals: it is in his power to do many other things, and
something in the way of book-learning too, however busy his life may be.
It is completely within his power to teach them early-rising and early
going to bed; and, if many a man, who says that he has _not time_ to
teach his children, were to sit down, in _sincerity_, with a pen and a
bit of paper, and put down all the minutes, which he, in every
twenty-four hours, _wastes_ over the _bottle_, or over _cheese_ and
_oranges_ and _raisins_ and _biscuits_, _after_ he has _dined_; how many
he lounges away, either at the coffee-house or at home, over the
_useless_ part of newspapers; how many he spends in waiting for the
coming and the managing of the tea-table; how many he passes by
candle-light, _wearied of his existence_, when he might be in bed; how
many he passes in the morning in bed, while the sun and dew shine and
sparkle for him in vain: if he were to put all these together, and were
to add those which he passes in the _reading of books_ for his mere
personal _amusement_, and without the smallest chance of acquiring from
them any _useful_ practical knowledge: if he were to sum up the whole of
these, and add to them the time worse than wasted in the contemptible
work of dressing off _his person_, he would be frightened at the result;
would send for his boys from school; and if greater book-learning than
he possessed were necessary, he would choose for the purpose some man of
ability, and see the teaching carried on under his own roof, with safety
as to morals, and with the best chance as to health.
308. If after all, however, a school must be resorted to, let it, if in
your power, be as little populous as possible. As 'evil communications
corrupt good manners,' so the more numerous the assemblage, and the more
extensive the communication, the greater the chance of corruption.
_Jails, barracks, factories_, do not corrupt by their _walls_, but by
their condensed numbers. Populous cities corrupt from the same cause;
and it is, because _it must be_, the same with regard to schools, out of
which children come not what they were when they went in. The master is,
in some sort, their enemy; he is their overlooker; he is a spy upon
them; his authority is maintained by his absolute power of punishment;
_the parent commits them to that power_; to be taught is to be held in
restraint; and, as the sparks fly upwards, the teaching and the
restraint will not be divided in the estimation of the boy. Besides all
this, there is the great disadvantage of _tardiness_ in arriving at
years of discretion. If boys live only with boys, their ideas will
continue to be boyish; if they see and hear and converse with nobody but
boys, how are they to have the thoughts and the character of men? It is,
_at last_, only by hearing _men_ talk and seeing men act, that they
learn to talk and act like men; and, therefore, to confine them to the
society of boys, is to _retard_ their arrival at the years of
discretion; and in case of adverse circumstances in the pecuniary way,
where, in all the creation, is there so helpless a mortal as a boy who
has always been at school! But, if, as I said before, a school there
_must_ be, let the congregation be as small as possible; and, do not
expect too much from the master; for, if it be irksome to you to teach
your own sons, what must that teaching be to him? If he have great
numbers, he must delegate his authority; and, like all other delegated
authority, it will either be abused or neglected.
309. With regard to _girls_, one would think that _mothers_ would want
no argument to make them shudder at the thought of committing the care
of their daughters to other hands than their own. If fortune have so
favoured them as to make them rationally desirous that their daughters
should have more of what are called accomplishments _than_ they
_themselves have_, it has also favoured them with the means of having
teachers under their own eye. If it have not favoured them so highly as
this (and it seldom has in the middle rank of life), what duty so sacred
as that imposed on a mother to be the teacher of her daughters! And is
she, from love of ease or of pleasure or of any thing else, to neglect
this duty; is she to commit her daughters to the care of persons, with
whose manners and morals it is impossible for her to be thoroughly
acquainted; is she to send them into the promiscuous society of girls,
who belong to nobody knows whom, and come from nobody knows whither, and
some of whom, for aught she can know to the contrary, may have been
corrupted before, and sent thither to be hidden from their former
circle; is she to send her daughters to be shut up within walls, the
bare sight of which awaken the idea of intrigue and invite to seduction
and surrender; is she to leave the health of her daughters to chance, to
shut them up with a motley bevy of strangers, some of whom, as is
_frequently_ the case, are proclaimed _bastards_, by the undeniable
testimony given by the _colour of their skin_; is she to do all this,
and still put forward pretensions to the authority and the affection due
to a _mother_! And, are you to permit all this, and still call yourself
_a father_!
310. Well, then, having resolved to teach your own children, or, to have
them taught, at home, let us now see how they ought to proceed as to
_books_ for learning. It is evident, speaking of boys, that, at last,
they must study the art, or science, that you intend them to pursue; if
they be to be surgeons, they must read books on surgery; and the like in
other cases. But, there are certain _elementary_ studies; certain books
to be used by _all persons_, who are destined to acquire any
book-learning at all. Then there are departments, or branches of
knowledge, that every man in the middle rank of life, ought, if he can,
to acquire, they being, in some sort, necessary to his reputation as a
_well-informed_ man, a character to which the farmer and the shopkeeper
ought to aspire as well as the lawyer and the surgeon. Let me now, then,
offer my advice as to the _course_ of reading, and the _manner_ of
reading, for a boy, arrived at his _fourteenth_ year, that being, in my
opinion, early enough for him to begin.
311. And, first of all, whether as to boys or girls, I deprecate
_romances_ of every description. It is impossible that they can do any
_good_, and they may do a great deal of harm. They excite passions that
ought to lie dormant; they give the mind a taste for _highly-seasoned_
matter; they make matters of real life insipid; every girl, addicted to
them, sighs to be a SOPHIA WESTERN, and every boy, a TOM JONES. What
girl is not in love with the _wild_ youth, and what boy does not find a
justification for his wildness? What can be more pernicious than the
teachings of this celebrated romance? Here are two young men put before
us, both sons of the same mother; the one a _bastard_ (and by a parson
too), the other a _legitimate child_; the former wild, disobedient, and
squandering; the latter steady, sober, obedient, and frugal; the former
every thing that is frank and generous in his nature, the latter a
greedy hypocrite; the former rewarded with the most beautiful and
virtuous of women and a double estate, the latter punished by being made
an outcast. How is it possible for young people to read such a book, and
to look upon orderliness, sobriety, obedience, and frugality, as
_virtues_? And this is the tenor of almost every romance, and of almost
every play, in our language. In the 'School for Scandal,' for instance,
we see two brothers; the one a prudent and frugal man, and, to all
appearance, a moral man, the other a hair-brained squanderer, laughing
at the morality of his brother; the former turns out to be a base
hypocrite and seducer, and is brought to shame and disgrace; while the
latter is found to be full of generous sentiment, and Heaven itself
seems to interfere to give him fortune and fame. In short, the direct
tendency of the far greater part of these books, is, to cause young
people to despise all those virtues, without the practice of which they
must be a curse to their parents, a burden to the community, and must,
except by mere accident, lead wretched lives. I do not recollect one
romance nor one play, in our language, which has not this tendency. How
is it possible for young princes to read the historical plays of the
punning and smutty Shakspeare, and not think, that to be drunkards,
blackguards, the companions of debauchees and robbers, is the suitable
beginning of a glorious reign?
312. There is, too, another most abominable principle that runs through
them all, namely, that there is in _high birth_, something of _superior
nature_, instinctive courage, honour, and talent. Who can look at the
two _royal youths_ in CYMBELINE, or at the _noble youth_ in DOUGLAS,
without detesting the base parasites who wrote those plays? Here are
youths, brought up by _shepherds_, never told of their origin, believing
themselves the sons of these humble parents, but discovering, when grown
up, the highest notions of valour and honour, and thirsting for military
renown, even while tending their reputed fathers' flocks and herds! And,
why this species of falsehood? To cheat the mass of the people; to keep
them in abject subjection; to make them quietly submit to despotic sway.
And the infamous authors are guilty of the cheat, because they are, in
one shape or another, paid by oppressors out of means squeezed from the
people. A _true_ picture would give us just the reverse; would show us
that '_high birth_' is the enemy of virtue, of valour, and of talent;
would show us, that with all their incalculable advantages, royal and
noble families have, only by mere accident, produced a great man; that,
in general, they have been amongst the most effeminate, unprincipled,
cowardly, stupid, and, at the very least, amongst the most useless
persons, considered as individuals, and not in connexion with the
prerogatives and powers bestowed on them solely by the law.
313. It is impossible for me, by any words that I can use, to express,
to the extent of my thoughts, the danger of suffering young people to
form their opinions from the writings of poets and romances. Nine times
out of ten, the morality they teach is bad, and must have a bad
tendency. Their wit is employed to _ridicule virtue_, as you will almost
always find, if you examine the matter to the bottom. The world owes a
very large part of its sufferings to tyrants; but what tyrant was there
amongst the ancients, whom the poets did not place _amongst the gods_?
Can you open an English poet, without, in some part or other of his
works, finding the grossest flatteries of royal and noble persons? How
are young people not to think that the praises bestowed on these persons
are just? DRYDEN, PARNELL, GAY, THOMSON, in short, what poet have we
had, or have we, POPE only excepted, who was not, or is not, a
pensioner, or a sinecure placeman, or the wretched dependent of some
part of the Aristocracy? Of the extent of the powers of writers in
producing mischief to a nation, we have two most striking instances in
the cases of Dr. JOHNSON and BURKE. The former, at a time when it was a
question whether war should be made on America to compel her to submit
to be taxed by the English parliament, wrote a pamphlet, entitled,
'_Taxation no Tyranny_,' to urge the nation into that war. The latter,
when it was a question, whether England should wage war against the
people of France, to prevent them from reforming their government, wrote
a pamphlet to urge the nation into _that_ war. The first war lost us
America, the last cost us six hundred millions of money, and has loaded
us with forty millions a year of taxes. JOHNSON, however, got a _pension
for his life_, and BURKE a pension for his life, and for _three lives
after his own_! CUMBERLAND and MURPHY, the play-writers, were
pensioners; and, in short, of the whole mass, where has there been one,
whom the people were not compelled to pay for labours, having for their
principal object the deceiving and enslaving of that same people? It is,
therefore, the duty of every father, when he puts a book into the hands
of his son or daughter, to give the reader a true account of _who_ and
_what_ the writer of the book was, or is.
314. If a boy be intended for any particular calling, he ought, of
course, to be induced to read books relating to that calling, if such
books there be; and, therefore, I shall not be more particular on that
head. But, there are certain things, that all men in the middle rank of
life, ought to know something of; because the knowledge will be a source
of pleasure; and because the want of it must, very frequently, give them
pain, by making them appear inferior, in point of mind, to many who are,
in fact, their inferiors in that respect. These things are _grammar,
arithmetic, history_, accompanied with _geography_ Without these, a man,
in the middle rank of life, however able he may be in his calling, makes
but an awkward figure. Without _grammar_ he cannot, with safety to his
character as a well-informed man, put his thoughts upon paper; nor can
he be _sure_, that he is speaking with propriety. How many clever men
have I known, full of natural talent, eloquent by nature, replete with
every thing calculated to give them weight in society; and yet having
little or no weight, merely because unable to put correctly upon paper
that which they have in their minds! For me not to say, that I deem _my
English Grammar_ the best book for teaching this science, would be
affectation, and neglect of duty besides; because I know, that it is the
best; because I wrote it for the purpose; and because, hundreds and
hundreds of men and women have told me, some verbally, and some by
letter, that, though (many of them) at grammar schools for years, they
really never _knew_ any thing of grammar, until they studied my book. I,
who know well all the difficulties that I experienced when I read books
upon the subject, can easily believe this, and especially when I think
of the numerous instances in which I have seen _university_-scholars
unable to write English, with any tolerable degree of correctness. In
this book, the principles are so clearly explained, that the disgust
arising from intricacy is avoided; and it is this disgust, that is the
great and mortal enemy of acquiring knowledge.
315. With regard to ARITHMETIC, it is a branch of learning absolutely
necessary to every one, who has any pecuniary transactions beyond those
arising out of the expenditure of his week's wages. All the books on
this subject that I had ever seen, were so bad, so destitute of every
thing calculated to lead the mind into a knowledge of the matter, so
void of principles, and so evidently tending to puzzle and disgust the
learner, by their sententious, and crabbed, and quaint, and almost
hieroglyphical definitions, that I, at one time, had the intention of
writing a little work on the subject myself. It was put off, from one
cause or another; but a little work on the subject has been, partly at
my suggestion, written and published by Mr. THOMAS SMITH of Liverpool,
and is sold by Mr. SHERWOOD, in London. The author has great ability,
and a perfect knowledge of his subject. It is a book of principles; and
any young person of common capacity, will learn more from it in a week,
than from all the other books, that I ever saw on the subject, in a
twelve-month.
316. While the foregoing studies are proceeding, though they very well
afford a relief to each other, HISTORY may serve as a relaxation,
particularly during the study of grammar, which is an undertaking
requiring patience and time. Of all history, that of our own country is
of the most importance; because, for want of a thorough knowledge of
what _has been_, we are, in many cases, at a loss to account for _what
is_, and still more at a loss, to be able to show what _ought to be_.
The difference between history and romance is this; that that which is
narrated in the latter, leaves in the mind nothing which it can apply to
present or future circumstances and events; while the former, when it is
what it ought to be, leaves the mind stored with arguments for
experience, applicable, at all times, to the actual affairs of life. The
history of a country ought to show the origin and progress of its
institutions, political, civil, and ecclesiastical; it ought to show the
effects of those institutions upon the state of the people; it ought to
delineate the measures of the government at the several epochs; and,
having clearly described the state of the people at the several periods,
it ought to show the cause of their freedom, good morals, and happiness;
or of their misery, immorality, and slavery; and this, too, by the
production of indubitable facts, and of inferences so manifestly fair,
as to leave not the smallest doubt upon the mind.
317. Do the histories of England which we have, answer this description?
They are very little better than romances. Their contents are generally
confined to narrations relating to battles, negociations, intrigues,
contests between rival sovereignties, rival nobles, and to the character
of kings, queens, mistresses, bishops, ministers, and the like; from
scarcely any of which can the reader draw any knowledge which is at all
applicable to the circumstances of the present day.
318. Besides this, there is the _falsehood_; and the falsehoods
contained in these histories, where shall we find any thing to surpass?
Let us take one instance. They all tell us, that William the Conqueror
knocked down twenty-six parish churches, and laid waste the parishes in
order to make the New Forest; and this in a tract of the very poorest
land in England, where the churches must then have stood at about one
mile and two hundred yards from each other. The truth is, that all the
churches are still standing that were there when William landed, and the
whole story is a sheer falsehood from the beginning to the end.
319. But, this is a mere specimen of these romances; and that too, with
regard to a matter comparatively unimportant to us. The important
falsehoods are, those which misguide us by statement or by inference,
with regard to the state of the people at the several epochs, as
produced by the institutions of the country, or the measures of the
Government. It is always the object of those who have power in their
hands, to persuade the people that they are better off than their
forefathers were: it is the great business of history to show how this
matter stands; and, with respect to this great matter, what are we to
learn from any thing that has hitherto been called a history of England!
I remember, that, about a dozen years ago, I was talking with a very
clever young man, who had read twice or thrice over the History of
England, by different authors; and that I gave the conversation a turn
that drew from him, unperceived by himself, that he did not know how
tithes, parishes, poor-rates, church-rates, and the abolition of trial
by jury in hundreds of cases, came to be in England; and, that he had
not the smallest idea of the manner in which the Duke of Bedford came to
possess the power of taxing our cabbages in Covent-Garden. Yet, this is
history. I have done a great deal, with regard to matters of this sort,
in my famous History of the PROTESTANT REFORMATION; for I may truly call
that famous, which has been translated and published in all the modern
languages.