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PRACTICAL EDUCATION:
BY
MARIA EDGEWORTH,
AUTHOR OF LETTERS FOR LITERARY LADIES, AND THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT, &c.
&c.
AND, BY
RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH,
F.R.S. AND M.R.I.A.
IN TWO VOLUMES ... VOL. I.
SECOND AMERICAN EDITION.
PUBLISHED
BY J. FRANCIS LIPPITT, PROVIDENCE, (R. I.) AND T. B. WAIT & SONS,
BOSTON.
T. B. Wait and Sons, Printers.
1815.
PREFACE.
We shall not imitate the invidious example of some authors, who think
it necessary to destroy the edifices of others, in order to clear the
way for their own. We have no peculiar system to support, and,
consequently, we have no temptation to attack the theories of others;
and we have chosen the title of Practical Education, to point out that
we rely entirely upon practice and experience.
To make any progress in the art of education, it must be patiently
reduced to an experimental science: we are fully sensible of the
extent and difficulty of this undertaking, and we have not the
arrogance to imagine, that we have made any considerable progress in a
work, which the labours of many generations may, perhaps, be
insufficient to complete; but we lay before the publick the result of
our experiments, and in many instances the experiments themselves. In
pursuing this part of our plan, we have sometimes descended from that
elevation of style, which the reader might expect in a quarto volume;
we have frequently been obliged to record facts concerning children
which may seem trifling, and to enter into a minuteness of detail
which may appear unnecessary. No anecdotes, however, have been
admitted without due deliberation; nothing has been introduced to
gratify the idle curiosity of others, or to indulge our own feelings
of domestic partiality.
In what we have written upon the rudiments of science, we have pursued
an opposite plan; so far from attempting to teach them in detail, we
refer our readers to the excellent treatises on the different branches
of science, and on the various faculties of the human mind, which are
to be found in every language. The chapters that we have introduced
upon these subjects, are intended merely as specimens of the manner in
which we think young children should be taught. We have found from
experience, that an early knowledge of the first principles of science
may be given in conversation, and may be insensibly acquired from the
usual incidents of life: if this knowledge be carefully associated
with the technical terms which common use may preserve in the memory,
much of the difficulty of subsequent instruction may be avoided.
The sketches we have hazarded upon these subjects, may to some appear
too slight, and to others too abstruse and tedious. To those who have
explored the vast mines of human knowledge, small specimens appear
trifling and contemptible, whilst the less accustomed eye is somewhat
dazzled and confused by the appearance even of a small collection: but
to the most enlightened minds, new combinations may be suggested by a
new arrangement of materials, and the curiosity and enthusiasm of the
inexperienced may be awakened, and excited to accurate and laborious
researches.
With respect to what is commonly called the education of the heart, we
have endeavoured to suggest the easiest means of inducing useful and
agreeable habits, well regulated sympathy and benevolent affections. A
witty writer says, "Il est permis d'ennuyer en moralites d'ici jusqu'
a Constantinople." Unwilling to avail ourselves of this permission, we
have sedulously avoided declamation, and, wherever we have been
obliged to repeat ancient maxims, and common truths, we have at least
thought it becoming to present them in a new dress.
On religion and politics we have been silent, because we have no
ambition to gain partisans, or to make proselytes, and because we do
not address ourselves exclusively to any sect or to any party. The
scrutinizing eye of criticism, in looking over our table of contents,
will also, probably, observe that there are no chapters on courage and
chastity. To pretend to teach courage to Britons, would be as
ridiculous as it is unnecessary; and, except amongst those who are
exposed to the contagion of foreign manners, we may boast of the
superior delicacy of our fair countrywomen; a delicacy acquired from
domestic example, and confirmed by publick approbation. Our opinions
concerning the female character and understanding, have been fully
detailed in a former publication;[1] and, unwilling to fatigue by
repetition, we have touched but slightly upon these subjects in our
chapters on Temper, Female Accomplishments, Prudence, and Economy.
We have warned our readers not to expect from us any new theory of
education, but they need not apprehend that we have written without
method, or that we have thrown before them a heap of desultory remarks
and experiments, which lead to no general conclusions, and which tend
to the establishment of no useful principles. We assure them that we
have worked upon a regular plan, and where we have failed of executing
our design, it has not been for want of labour or attention. Convinced
that it is the duty and the interest of all who write, to inquire what
others have said and thought upon the subject of which they treat, we
have examined attentively the works of others, that we might collect
whatever knowledge they contain, and that we might neither arrogate
inventions which do not belong to us, nor weary the public by
repetition. Some useful and ingenious essays may probably have escaped
our notice; but we flatter ourselves, that our readers will not find
reason to accuse us of negligence, as we have perused with diligent
attention every work upon education, that has obtained the sanction of
time or of public approbation, and, though we have never bound
ourselves to the letter, we hope that we have been faithful to the
spirit, of their authors. Without incumbering ourselves with any part
of their systems which has not been authorized by experience, we have
steadily attempted immediately to apply to practice such of their
ideas as we have thought useful; but whilst we have used the thoughts
of others, we have been anxious to avoid mean plagiarism, and wherever
we have borrowed, the debt has been carefully acknowledged.
The first hint of the chapter on Toys was received from Dr. Beddoes;
the sketch of an introduction to chemistry for children was given to
us by Mr. Lovell Edgeworth; and the rest of the work was resumed from
a design formed and begun twenty years ago. When a book appears under
the name of two authors, it is natural to inquire what share belongs
to each of them. All that relates to the art of teaching to read in
the chapter on Tasks, the chapters on Grammar and Classical
Literature, Geography, Chronology, Arithmetic, Geometry, and
Mechanics, were written by Mr. Edgeworth, and the rest of the book by
Miss Edgeworth. She was encouraged and enabled to write upon this
important subject, by having for many years before her eyes the
conduct of a judicious mother in the education of a large family. The
chapter on Obedience, was written from Mrs. Edgeworth's notes, and was
exemplified by her successful practice in the management of her
children; the whole manuscript was submitted to her judgment, and she
revised parts of it in the last stage of a fatal disease.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Letters for Literary Ladies.
CONTENTS.
Chapter Page
I. _Toys_ 9
II. _Tasks_ 40
III. _On Attention_ 71
IV. _Servants_ 109
V. _Acquaintance_ 121
VI. _On Temper_ 137
VII. _On Obedience_ 153
VIII. _On Truth_ 168
IX. _On Rewards and Punishments_ 198
X. _On Sympathy and Sensibility_ 232
XI. _On Vanity, Pride, and Ambition_ 261
XII. _Books_ 276
PRACTICAL EDUCATION.
CHAPTER I.
TOYS.
"Why don't you play with your playthings, my dear? I am sure that I
have bought toys enough for you; why can't you divert yourself with
them, instead of breaking them to pieces?" says a mother to her child,
who stands idle and miserable, surrounded by disjointed dolls, maimed
horses, coaches and one-horse chairs without wheels, and a nameless
wreck of gilded lumber.
A child in this situation is surely more to be pitied than blamed; for
is it not vain to repeat, "Why don't you play with your playthings,"
unless they be such as he can play with, which is very seldom the
case; and is it not rather unjust to be angry with him for breaking
them to pieces, when he can by no other device render them subservient
to his amusement? He breaks them, not from the love of mischief, but
from the hatred of idleness; either he wishes to see what his
playthings are made of, and how they are made; or, whether he can put
them together again, if the parts be once separated. All this is
perfectly innocent; and it is a pity that his love of knowledge and
his spirit of activity should be repressed by the undistinguishing
correction of a nursery maid, or the unceasing reproof of a French
governess.
The more natural vivacity and ingenuity young people possess, the
less are they likely to be amused with the toys which are usually put
into their hands. They require to have things which exercise their
senses or their imagination, their imitative, and inventive powers.
The glaring colours, or the gilding of toys, may catch the eye, and
please for a few minutes, but unless some use can be made of them,
they will, and ought, to be soon discarded. A boy, who has the use of
his limbs, and whose mind is untainted with prejudice, would, in all
probability, prefer a substantial cart, in which he could carry weeds,
earth and stones, up and down hill, to the finest frail coach and six
that ever came out of a toy-shop: for what could he do with the coach
after having admired, and sucked the paint, but drag it cautiously
along the carpet of a drawing-room, watching the wheels, which will
not turn, and seeming to sympathize with the just terrors of the lady
and gentleman within, who are certain of being overturned every five
minutes? When he is tired of this, perhaps, he may set about to
unharness horses which were never meant to be unharnessed; or to
currycomb their woollen manes and tails, which usually come off during
the first attempt.
That such toys are frail and useless, may, however, be considered as
evils comparatively small: as long as the child has sense and courage
to destroy the toys, there is no great harm done; but, in general, he
is taught to set a value upon them totally independent of all ideas of
utility, or of any regard to his own real feelings. Either he is
conjured to take particular care of them, because they cost a great
deal of money; or else he is taught to admire them as miniatures of
some of the fine things on which fine people pride themselves: if no
other bad consequence were to ensue, this single circumstance of his
being guided in his choice by the opinion of others is dangerous.
Instead of attending to his own sensations, and learning from his own
experience, he acquires the habit of estimating his pleasures by the
taste and judgment of those who happen to be near him.
"I liked the cart best," says the boy, "but mamma and every body said
that the coach was the prettiest; so I chose the coach."--Shall we
wonder if the same principle afterwards governs him in the choice of
"the toys of age?"
A little girl, presiding at her baby tea-table, is pleased with the
notion that she is like her mamma; and, before she can have any idea
of the real pleasures of conversation and society, she is confirmed in
the persuasion, that tattling and visiting are some of the most
enviable privileges of grown people; a set of beings whom she believes
to be in possession of all the sweets of happiness.
Dolls, beside the prescriptive right of ancient usage, can boast of
such an able champion in Rousseau, that it requires no common share of
temerity to attack them. As far as they are the means of inspiring
girls with a taste for neatness in dress, and with a desire to make
those things for themselves, for which women are usually dependent
upon milliners, we must acknowledge their utility; but a watchful eye
should be kept upon the child, to mark the first symptoms of a love of
finery and fashion. It is a sensible remark of a late female writer,
that whilst young people work, the mind will follow the hands, the
thoughts are occupied with trifles, and the industry is stimulated by
vanity.
Our objections to dolls are offered with great submission and due
hesitation. With more confidence we may venture to attack baby-houses;
an unfurnished baby-house might be a good toy, as it would employ
little carpenters and seamstresses to fit it up; but a completely
furnished baby-house proves as tiresome to a child, as a finished seat
is to a young nobleman. After peeping, for in general only a peep can
be had into each apartment, after being thoroughly satisfied that
nothing is wanting, and that consequently there is nothing to be done,
the young lady lays her doll upon the state bed, if the doll be not
twice as large as the bed, and falls fast asleep in the midst of her
felicity.
Before dolls, baby-houses, coaches, and cups and saucers, there comes
a set of toys, which are made to imitate the actions of men and women,
and the notes or noises of birds and beasts. Many of these are
ingenious in their construction, and happy in their effect, but that
effect unfortunately is transitory. When the wooden woman has churned
her hour in her empty churn; when the stiff backed man has hammered or
sawed till his arms are broken, or till his employers are tired; when
the gilt lamb has ba-ad, the obstinate pig squeaked, and the provoking
cuckoo cried cuckoo, till no one in the house can endure the noise;
what remains to be done?--Wo betide the unlucky little philosopher,
who should think of inquiring why the woman churned, or how the bird
cried cuckoo; for it is ten to one that in prosecuting such an
inquiry, just when he is upon the eve of discovery, he snaps the wire,
or perforates the bellows, and there ensue "a death-like silence, and
a dread repose."
The grief which is felt for spoiling a new plaything might be borne,
if it were not increased, as it commonly is, by the reproaches of
friends; much kind eloquence, upon these occasions, is frequently
displayed, to bring the sufferer to a proper sense of his folly, till
in due time the contrite corners of his mouth are drawn down, his wide
eyes fill with tears, and, without knowing what he means, he promises
never to be so silly any more. The future safety of his worthless
playthings is thus purchased at the expense of his understanding,
perhaps of his integrity: for children seldom scrupulously adhere to
promises, which they have made to escape from impending punishment.
We have ventured to object to some fashionable toys; we are bound at
least to propose others in their place; and we shall take the matter
up soberly from the nursery.
The first toys for infants should be merely such things as may be
grasped without danger, and which might, by the difference of their
sizes, invite comparison: round ivory or wooden sticks should be put
into their little hands; by degrees they will learn to lift them to
their mouths, and they will distinguish their sizes: square and
circular bits of wood, balls, cubes, and triangles, with holes of
different sizes made in them, to admit the sticks, should be their
playthings. No greater apparatus is necessary for the amusement of the
first months of an infant's life. To ease the pain which they feel
from cutting teeth, infants generally carry to their mouths whatever
they can lay their hands upon; but they soon learn to distinguish
those bodies which relieve their pain, from those which gratify their
palate; and, if they are left to themselves, they will always choose
what is painted in preference to every thing else; nor must we
attribute the look of delight with which they seize toys that are
painted red, merely to the pleasure which their eye takes in the
bright colour, but to the love of the sweet taste which they suck from
the paint. What injury may be done to the health by the quantity of
lead which is thus swallowed, we will not pretend to determine, but we
refer to a medical name of high authority,[2] whose cautions probably
will not be treated with neglect. To gratify the eye with glittering
objects, if this be necessary, may be done with more safety by toys of
tin and polished iron: a common steel button is a more desirable
plaything to a young child than many expensive toys; a few such
buttons tied together, so as to prevent any danger of their being
swallowed, would continue for some time a source of amusement.
When a nurse wants to please or to pacify a child, she stuns its ear
with a variety of noises, or dazzles its eye with glaring colours or
stimulating light. The eye and the ear are thus fatigued without
advantage, and the temper is hushed to a transient calm by expedients,
which in time must lose their effect, and which can have no power over
confirmed fretfulness. The pleasure of exercising their senses, is in
itself sufficient to children without any factitious stimulus, which
only exhausts their excitability, and renders them incapable of being
amused by a variety of common objects, which would naturally be their
entertainment. We do not here speak of the attempts made to sooth a
child who is ill; "to charm the sense of pain," so far as it can be
done by diverting the child's attention from his own sufferings to
outward objects, is humane and reasonable, provided our compassion
does not induce in the child's mind the expectation of continual
attendance, and that impatience of temper which increases bodily
suffering. It would be in vain to read lectures on philosophy to a
nurse, or to expect stoicism from an infant; but, perhaps, where
mothers pay attention themselves to their children, they will be able
to prevent many of the consequences of vulgar prejudice and folly. A
nurse's wish is to have as little trouble as possible with the child
committed to her charge, and at the same time to flatter the mother,
from whom she expects her reward. The appearance of extravagant
fondness for the child, of incessant attention to its humour, and
absurd submission to its caprices, she imagines to be the surest
method of recommending herself to favour. She is not to be imposed
upon by the faint and affected rebukes of the fond mother, who
exclaims, "Oh, nurse, indeed you _do_ spoil that child sadly!--Oh,
nurse, upon my word she governs you entirely!--Nurse, you must not let
her have her own way always.--Never mind her crying, I beg,
nurse."--Nurse smiles, sees that she has gained her point, and
promises what she knows it is not expected she should perform. Now if,
on the contrary, she perceived that the mother was neither to be
flattered nor pleased by these means, one motive for spoiling the
child would immediately cease: another strong one would, it is true,
still remain. A nurse wishes to save herself trouble, and she
frequently consults her own convenience when she humours an infant.
She hushes it to sleep, that she may leave it safely; she stops it
from crying, that she may not hear an irritating noise, that she may
relieve herself as soon as possible from the painful weakness of
compassion, or that she may avoid the danger of being interrogated by
the family as to the cause of the disturbance. It is less trouble to
her to yield to caprice and ill-humour than to prevent or cure it, or
at least she thinks it is so. In reality it is not; for an humoured
child in time plagues its attendant infinitely more than it would have
done with reasonable management. If it were possible to convince
nurses of this, they would sacrifice perhaps the convenience of a
moment to the peace of future hours, and they would not be eager to
quell one storm, at the hazard of being obliged to endure twenty more
boisterous; the candle would then no more be thrust almost into the
infant's eyes to make it take notice of the light through the mist of
tears, the eternal bunch of keys would not dance and jingle at every
peevish summons, nor would the roarings of passion be overpowered by
insulting songs, or soothed by artful caresses; the child would then
be caressed and amused when he looks smiling and good-humoured, and
all parties would be much happier.
Practical education begins very early, even in the nursery. Without
the mountebank pretence, that miracles can be performed by the turning
of a straw, or the dictatorial anathematizing tone, which calls down
vengeance upon those who do not follow to an iota the injunctions of a
theorist, we may simply observe, that parents would save themselves a
great deal of trouble, and their children some pain, if they would
pay some attention to their early education. The temper acquires
habits much earlier than is usually apprehended; the first impressions
which infants receive, and the first habits which they learn from
their nurses, influence the temper and disposition long after the
slight causes which produced them are forgotten. More care and
judgment than usually fall to the share of a nurse are necessary, to
cultivate the disposition which infants show, to exercise their
senses, so as neither to suffer them to become indolent and torpid
from want of proper objects to occupy their attention, nor yet to
exhaust their senses by continual excitation. By ill-timed restraints
or injudicious incitements, the nurse frequently renders the child
obstinate or passionate. An infant should never be interrupted in its
operations; whilst it wishes to use its hands, we should not be
impatient to make it walk; or when it is pacing, with all the
attention to its centre of gravity that is exerted by a rope-dancer,
suddenly arrest its progress, and insist upon its pronouncing the
scanty vocabulary which we have compelled it to learn. When children
are busily trying experiments upon objects within their reach, we
should not, by way of saving them trouble, break the course of their
ideas, and totally prevent them from acquiring knowledge by their own
experience. When a foolish nurse sees a child attempting to reach or
lift any thing, she runs immediately, "Oh, dear love, it can't do it,
it can't!--I'll do it for it, so I will!"--If the child be trying the
difference between pushing and pulling, rolling or sliding, the powers
of the wedge or the lever, the officious nurse hastens instantly to
display her own knowledge of the mechanic powers: "Stay, love, stay;
that is not the way to do it--I'll show it the right way--see
here--look at me love."--Without interrupting a child in the moment of
action, proper care might previously be taken to remove out of its way
those things which can really hurt it, and a just degree of attention
must be paid to its first experiments upon hard and heavy, and more
especially upon sharp, brittle, and burning bodies; but this degree of
care should not degenerate into cowardice; it is better that a child
should tumble down or burn its fingers, than that it should not learn
the use of its limbs and its senses. We should for another reason take
care to put all dangerous things effectually out of the child's reach,
instead of saying perpetually, "Take care, don't touch that!--don't do
that!--let that alone!" The child, who scarcely understands the words,
and not at all the reason of these prohibitions, is frightened by the
tone and countenance with which they are uttered and accompanied; and
he either becomes indolent or cunning; either he desists from
exertion, or seizes the moment to divert himself with forbidden
objects, when the watchful eye that guards them is withdrawn. It is in
vain to encompass the restless prisoner with a fortification of
chairs, and to throw him an old almanack to tear to pieces, or an old
pincushion to explore; the enterprising adventurer soon makes his
escape from this barricado, leaves his goods behind him, and presently
is again in what the nurse calls mischief.
Mischief is with nurses frequently only another name for any species
of activity which they find troublesome; the love which children are
supposed to have for pulling things out of their places, is in reality
the desire of seeing things in motion, or of putting things into
different situations. They will like to put the furniture in a room in
its proper place, and to arrange every thing in what we call order, if
we can make these equally permanent sources of active amusement; but
when things are once in their places, the child has nothing more to
do, and the more quickly each chair arrives at its destined situation,
the sooner comes the dreaded state of idleness and quiet.
A nursery, or a room in which young children are to live, should
never have any furniture in it which they can spoil; as few things as
possible should be left within their reach which they are not to
touch, and at the same time they should be provided with the means of
amusing themselves, not with painted or gilt toys, but with pieces of
wood of various shapes and sizes, which they may build up and pull
down, and put in a variety of different forms and positions; balls,
pulleys, wheels, strings, and strong little carts, proportioned to
their age, and to the things which they want to carry in them, should
be their playthings.
Prints will be entertaining to children at a very early age; it would
be endless to enumerate the uses that may be made of them; they teach
accuracy of sight, they engage the attention, and employ the
imagination. In 1777 we saw L----, a child of two years old, point out
every piece of furniture in the French prints of Gil Blas; in the
print of the Canon at Dinner, he distinguished the knives, forks,
spoons, bottles, and every thing upon the table: the dog lying upon
the mat, and the bunch of keys hanging at Jacintha's girdle; he told,
with much readiness, the occupation of every figure in the print, and
could supply, from his imagination, what is supposed to be hidden by
the foremost parts of all the objects. A child of four years old was
asked, what was meant by something that was very indistinctly
represented as hanging round the arm of a figure in one of the prints
of the London Cries. He said it was a glove; though it had as little
resemblance to a glove, as to a ribbon or a purse. When he was asked
how he knew that it was a glove, he answered, "that it ought to be a
glove, because the woman had one upon her other arm, and none upon
that where the thing was hanging." Having seen the gown of a female
figure in a print hanging obliquely, the same child said, "The wind
blows that woman's gown back." We mention these little circumstances
from real life, to show how early prints may be an amusement to
children, and how quickly things unknown, are learnt by the relations
which they bear to what was known before. We should at the same time
observe, that children are very apt to make strange mistakes, and
hasty conclusions, when they begin to reason from analogy. A child
having asked what was meant by some marks in the forehead of an old
man in a print; and having been told, upon some occasion, that old
people were wiser than young ones, brought a print containing several
figures to his mother, and told her that _one_, which he pointed to,
was wiser than all the rest; upon inquiry, it was found that he had
formed this notion from seeing that one figure was wrinkled, and that
the others were not.
Prints for children should be chosen with great care; they should
represent objects which are familiar; the resemblances should be
accurate, and the manners should be attended to, or at least, the
general moral that is to be drawn from them. The attitude of Sephora,
the boxing lady in Gil Blas, must appear unnatural to children who
have not lived with termagant heroines. Perhaps, the first ideas of
grace, beauty, and propriety, are considerably influenced by the first
pictures and prints which please children. Sir Joshua Reynolds tells
us, that he took a child with him through a room full of pictures, and
that the child stopped, with signs of aversion, whenever it came to
any picture of a figure in a constrained attitude.
Children soon judge tolerably well of proportion in drawing, where
they have been used to see the objects which are represented: but we
often give them prints of objects, and of animals especially, which
they have never seen, and in which no sort of proportion is observed.
The common prints of animals must give children false ideas. The mouse
and the elephant are nearly of the same size, and the crocodile and
whale fill the same space in the page. Painters, who put figures of
men amongst their buildings, give the idea of the proportionate
height immediately to the eye: this is, perhaps, the best scale we can
adopt; in every print for children this should be attended to. Some
idea of the relative sizes of the animals they see represented would
then be given, and the imagination would not be filled with chimeras.
After having been accustomed to examine prints, and to trace their
resemblance to real objects, children will probably wish to try their
own powers of imitation. At this moment no toy, which we could invent
for them, would give them half so much pleasure as a pencil. If we put
a pencil into their hands even before they are able to do any thing
with it but make random marks all over a sheet of paper, it will long
continue a real amusement and occupation. No matter how rude their
first attempts at imitation may be; if the attention of children be
occupied, our point is gained. Girls have generally one advantage at
this age over boys, in the exclusive possession of the scissors: how
many camels, and elephants with amazing trunks, are cut out by the
industrious scissors of a busy, and therefore happy little girl,
during a winter evening, which passes so heavily, and appears so
immeasurably long, to the idle.
Modelling in clay or wax might probably be a useful amusement about
this age, if the materials were so prepared, that the children could
avoid being every moment troublesome to others whilst they are at
work. The making of baskets, and the weaving of sash-line, might
perhaps be employment for children; with proper preparations, they
might at least be occupied with these things; much, perhaps, might not
be produced by their labours, but it is a great deal to give early
habits of industry. Let us do what we will, every person who has ever
had any experience upon the subject, must know that it is scarcely
possible to provide sufficient and suitable occupations for young
children: this is one of the first difficulties in education. Those
who have never tried the experiment, are astonished to find it such a
difficult and laborious business as it really is, to find employments
for children from three to six years old. It is perhaps better, that
our pupils should be entirely idle, than that they should be half
employed. "My dear, have you nothing to do?" should be spoken in
sorrow rather than in anger. When they see other people employed and
happy, children feel mortified and miserable to have nothing to do.
Count Rumford's was an excellent scheme for exciting sympathetic
industry amongst the children of the poor at Munich; in the large
hall, where the elder children were busy in spinning, there was a
range of seats for the younger children, who were not yet permitted to
work; these being compelled to sit idle, and to see the busy
multitude, grew extremely uneasy in their own situation, and became
very anxious to be employed. We need not use any compulsion or any
artifice; parents in every family, we suppose, who think of educating
their own children, are employed some hours in the day in reading,
writing, business, or conversation; during these hours, children will
naturally feel the want of occupation, and will, from sympathy, from
ambition and from impatience of insupportable ennui, desire with
anxious faces, "to have something to do." Instead of loading them with
playthings, by way of relieving their misery, we should honestly tell
them, if that be the truth, "I am sorry I cannot find any thing for
you to do at present. I hope you will soon be able to employ yourself.
What a happy thing it will be for you to be able, by and by, to read,
and write and draw; then you will never be forced to sit idle."
The pains of idleness stimulate children to industry, if they are from
time to time properly contrasted with the pleasures of occupation. We
should associate cheerfulness, and praise, and looks of approbation,
with industry; and, whenever young people invent employments for
themselves, they should be assisted as much as possible, and
encouraged. At that age when they are apt to grow tired in half an
hour of their playthings, we had better give them playthings only for
a very short time, at intervals in the day; and, instead of waiting
till they are tired, we should take the things away before they are
weary of them. Nor should we discourage the inquisitive genius from
examining into the structure of their toys, whatever they may be. The
same ingenious and active dispositions, which prompt these inquiries,
will secure children from all those numerous temptations to do
mischief, to which the idle are exposed. Ingenious children are
pleased with contrivances which answer the purposes for which they are
intended: and they feel sincere regret whenever these are injured or
destroyed: this we mention as a further comfort and security for
parents, who, in the company of young mechanics, are apt to tremble
for their furniture. Children who observe, and who begin to amuse
themselves with _thought_, are not so actively hostile in their
attacks upon inanimate objects. We were once present at the dissection
of a wooden cuckoo, which was attended with extreme pleasure by a
large family of children; and it was not one of the children who broke
the precious toy, but it was the father who took it to pieces. Nor was
it the destruction of the plaything which entertained the company, but
the sight of the manner in which it was constructed. Many guesses were
made by all the spectators about the internal structure of the cuckoo,
and the astonishment of the company was universal, when the bellows
were cut open, and the simple contrivance was revealed to view;
probably, more was learnt from this cuckoo, than was ever learnt from
any cuckoo before. So far from being indifferent to the destruction of
this plaything, H---- the little girl of four years old, to whom it
belonged, remembered, several months afterwards, to remind her father
of his promise to repair the mischief he had done.
"Several toys, which are made at present, are calculated to give
pleasure merely by exciting surprise, and of course give children's
minds such a tone, that they are afterwards too fond of _similar
useless baubles_."[3] This species of delight is soon over, and is
succeeded by a desire to triumph in the ignorance, the credulity, or
the cowardice, of their companions. Hence that propensity to play
tricks, which is often injudiciously encouraged by the smiles of
parents, who are apt to mistake it for a proof of wit and vivacity.
They forget, that "gentle dulness ever loved a joke;" and that even
wit and vivacity, if they become troublesome and mischievous, will be
feared, and shunned. Many juggling tricks and puzzles are highly
ingenious; and, as far as they can exercise the invention or the
patience of young people, they are useful. Care, however, should be
taken, to separate the ideas of deceit and of ingenuity, and to
prevent children from glorying in the mere possession of a secret.
Toys which afford trials of dexterity and activity, such as tops,
kites, hoops, balls, battledores and shuttlecocks, ninepins, and
cup-and-ball, are excellent; and we see that they are consequently
great and lasting favourites with children; their senses, their
understanding, and their passions, are all agreeably interested and
exercised by these amusements. They emulate each other; but, as some
will probably excel at one game, and some at another, this emulation
will not degenerate into envy. There is more danger that this hateful
passion should be created in the minds of young competitors at those
games, where it is supposed that some _knack_ or _mystery_ is to be
learned before they can be played with success. Whenever children play
at such games, we should point out to them how and why it is that they
succeed or fail: we may show them, that, in reality, there is no
_knack_ or _mystery_ in any thing, but that from certain causes
certain effects will follow; that, after trying a number of
experiments, the circumstances essential to success may be discovered;
and that all the ease and dexterity, which we often attribute to the
power of natural genius, is simply the consequence of practice and
industry. This sober lesson may be taught to children without putting
it into grave words or formal precepts. A gentleman once astonished a
family of children by his dexterity in playing at bilboquet: he caught
the ball nine or ten times successively with great rapidity upon the
spike: this success appeared miraculous; and the father, who observed
that it had made a great impression upon the little spectators, took
that opportunity to show the use of spinning the ball, to make the
hole at the bottom ascend in a proper direction. The nature of
centrifugal motion, and its effect, in preserving the _parallelism_ of
_motion_, if we may be allowed the expression, was explained, not at
once, but at different intervals, to the young audience. Only as much
was explained at a time as the children could understand, without
fatiguing their attention, and the abstruse subject was made familiar
by the mode of illustration that was adopted.
It is surprising how much children may learn from their playthings,
when they are judiciously chosen, and when the habit of reflection and
observation is associated with the ideas of amusement and happiness. A
little boy of nine years old, who had had a hoop to play with, asked
"why a hoop, or a plate, if rolled upon its edge, keeps up as long as
it rolls, but falls as soon as it stops, and will not stand if you try
to make it stand still upon its edge?" Was not the boy's understanding
as well employed whilst he was thinking of this phenomenon, which he
observed whilst he was beating his hoop, as it could possibly have
been by the most learned preceptor?
When a pedantic schoolmaster sees a boy eagerly watching a paper kite,
he observes, "What a pity it is that children cannot be made to mind
their grammar as well as their kites!" And he adds, perhaps, some
peevish ejaculation on the natural idleness of boys, and that
pernicious love of play against which he is doomed to wage perpetual
war. A man of sense will see the same thing with a different eye; in
this pernicious love of play he will discern the symptoms of a love of
science, and, instead of deploring the natural idleness of children,
he will admire the activity which they display in the pursuit of
knowledge. He will feel that it is his business to direct this
activity, to furnish his pupil with materials for fresh combinations,
to put him or to let him put himself, in situations where he can make
useful observations, and acquire that experience which cannot be
bought, and which no masters can communicate.
It will not be beneath the dignity of a philosophic tutor to consider
the different effects, which the most common plays of children have
upon the habits of the understanding and temper. Whoever has watched
children putting together a dissected map, must have been amused with
the trial between Wit and Judgment. The child, who quickly perceives
resemblances, catches instantly at the first bit of the wooden map,
that has a single hook or hollow that seems likely to answer his
purpose; he makes, perhaps, twenty different trials before he hits
upon the right; whilst the wary youth, who has been accustomed to
observe differences, cautiously examines with his eye the whole
outline before his hand begins to move; and, having exactly compared
the two indentures, he joins them with sober confidence, more proud of
never disgracing his judgment by a fruitless attempt, than ambitious
of rapid success. He is slow, but sure, and wins the day.
There are some plays which require presence of mind, and which demand
immediate attention to what is actually going forward, in which
children, capable of the greatest degree of abstract attention, are
most apt to be defective. They have many ideas, but none of them
ready, and their knowledge is useless, because it is recollected a
moment too late. Could we, in suitably dignified language, describe
the game of "birds, beasts, and fishes," we should venture to
prescribe it as no very painful remedy for these absent and abstracted
personages. When the handkerchief or the ball is thrown, and when his
bird's name is called for, the absent little philosopher is obliged to
collect his scattered thoughts instantaneously, or else he exposes
himself to the ridicule of naming, perhaps, a fish or a beast, or any
bird but the right. To those children, who, on the contrary, are not
sufficiently apt to abstract their attention, and who are what Bacon
calls "birdwitted," we should recommend a solitary-board. At the
solitary-board they must withdraw their thoughts from all external
objects, hear nothing that is said, and fix their attention solely
upon the figure and the pegs before them, else they will never
succeed; and, if they make one errour in their calculations, they lose
all their labour. Those who are precipitate, and not sufficiently
attentive to the consequences of their own actions, may receive many
salutary lessons at the draught or chess-board--happy, if they can
learn prudence and foresight, by frequently losing the battle.
We are not quite so absurd as to imagine, that any great or permanent
effects can be produced by such slight causes as a game at draughts,
or at a solitary-board, but the combination of a number of apparent
trifles, is not to be neglected in education.
We have never yet mentioned what will probably first occur to those
who would invent employments for children. We have never yet mentioned
a garden; we have never mentioned those great delights to children, a
spade, a hoe, a rake, and a wheelbarrow. We hold all these in proper
respect; but we did not sooner mention them, because, if introduced
too early, they are useless. We must not expect, that a boy six or
seven years old, can find, for any length of time, sufficient daily
occupation in a garden: he has not strength for hard labour; he can
dig soft earth; he can weed groundsel, and other weeds, which take no
deep root in the earth; but after he has weeded his little garden, and
sowed his seeds, there must be a suspension of his labours. Frequently
children, for want of something to do, when they have sowed
flower-seeds in their crooked beds, dig up the hopes of the year to
make a new walk, or to sink a well in their garden. We mention these
things, that parents may not be disappointed, or expect more from the
occupation of a garden, than it can, at a very early age, afford. A
garden is an excellent resource for children, but they should have a
variety of other occupations: rainy days will come, and frost and
snow, and then children must be occupied within doors. We immediately
think of a little set of carpenter's tools, to supply them with active
amusement. Boys will probably be more inclined to attempt making
models, than drawings of the furniture which appears to be the most
easy to imitate; they will imagine that, if they had but tools, they
could make boxes, and desks, and beds, and chests of drawers, and
tables and chairs innumerable. But, alas! these fond imaginations are
too soon dissipated. Suppose a boy of seven years old to be provided
with a small set of carpenter's tools, his father thinks perhaps that
he has made him completely happy; but a week afterwards the father
finds dreadful marks of the file and saw upon his mahogany tables; the
use of these tools is immediately interdicted until a bench shall be
procured. Week after week passes away, till at length the frequently
reiterated speech of "Papa, you bid me put you in mind about my
bench." "Papa" has its effect, and the bench appears. Now the young
carpenter thinks he is quite set up in the world, and projects carts
and boxes, and reading-desks and writing-desks for himself and for his
sisters, if he have any; but when he comes to the execution of his
plans, what new difficulties, what new wants arise! the wood is too
thick or too thin; it splits, or it cannot be cut with a knife; wire,
nails, glue, and above all, the means of heating the glue, are
wanting. At last some frail machine, stuck together with pegs or pins,
is produced, and the workman is usually either too much ridiculed, or
too much admired. The step from pegging to mortising is a very
difficult step, and the want of a mortising-chisel is insuperable: one
tool is called upon to do the duty of another, and the pricker comes
to an untimely end in doing the hard duty of the punch; the saw wants
setting; the plane will plane no longer; and the mallet must be used
instead of the hammer, because the hammer makes so much noise, that
the ladies of the family have voted for its being locked up. To all
these various evils the child submits in despair; and finding, after
many fruitless exertions, that he cannot make any of the fine things
he had projected, he throws aside his tools, and is deterred by these
disappointments from future industry and ingenuity. Such are the
consequences of putting excellent tools into the hands of children
before they can possibly use them: but the tools which are useless at
seven years old, will be a most valuable present at eleven or twelve,
and for this age it will be prudent to reserve them. A rational
toy-shop should be provided with all manner of carpenter's tools, with
wood properly prepared for the young workman, and with screws, nails,
glue, emery-paper, and a variety of articles which it would be tedious
to enumerate; but which, if parents could readily meet within a
convenient assemblage, they would willingly purchase for their
children. The trouble of hunting through a number of different shops,
prevents them at present from purchasing such things; besides, they
may not perhaps be sufficiently good carpenters to know distinctly
every thing that is necessary for a young workman.
Card, pasteboard, substantial but not sharp-pointed scissors, wire,
gum and wax, may, in some degree, supply the want of carpenter's tools
at that early age when we have observed that the saw and plane are
useless. Models of common furniture should be made as toys, which
should take to pieces, so that all their parts, and the manner in
which they are put together, might be seen distinctly; the names of
the different parts should be written[4] or stamped upon them: by
these means the names will be associated with realities; children will
retain them in their memory, and they will neither learn by rote
technical terms, nor will they be retarded in their progress in
mechanical invention by the want of language. Before young people can
use tools, these models will amuse and exercise their attention. From
models of furniture we may go on to models of architecture; pillars of
different orders, the roofs of houses, the manner of slating and
tiling, &c. Then we may proceed to models of simple machines, choosing
at first such as can be immediately useful to children in their own
amusements, such as wheelbarrows, carts, cranes, scales, steelyards,
jacks, and pumps, which children ever view with eager eyes.
From simple, it will be easy to proceed gradually to models of more
complicated, machinery: it would be tiresome to give a list of these;
models of instruments used by manufacturers and artists should be
seen; many of these are extremely ingenious; spinning-wheels, looms,
paper-mills, wind-mills, water-mills, might with great advantage be
shown in miniature to children.
The distracting noise and bustle, the multitude of objects which all
claim the attention at once, prevent young people from understanding
much of what they see, when they are first taken to look at large
manufactories. If they had previously acquired some general idea of
the whole, and some particular knowledge of the different parts, they
would not stare when they get into these places; they would not "stare
round, see nothing, and come home content," bewildered by the sight of
cogs and wheels; and the explanations of the workmen would not be all
jargon to them; they would understand some of the technical terms,
which so much alarm the intellects of those who hear them for the
first time.
We may exercise the ingenuity and judgment of children by these models
of machines, by showing them first the thing to be done, and exciting
them to invent the best means of doing it; afterwards give the models
as the reward for their ingenuity, and let them compare their own
inventions with the contrivances actually in use amongst artificers;
by these means, young people may be led to compare a variety of
different contrivances; they will discern what parts of a machine are
superfluous, and what inadequate, and they will class particular
observations gradually under general principles. It may be thought,
that this will tend to give children only mechanical invention, or we
should call it, perhaps, the invention of machines; and those who do
not require this particular talent, will despise it as unnecessary in
what are called the liberal professions. Without attempting to compare
the value of different intellectual talents, we may observe, that they
are all in some measure dependent upon each other. Upon this subject
we shall enlarge more fully when we come to consider the method of
cultivating the memory and invention.
Chemical toys will be more difficult to manage than mechanical,
because the materials, requisite to try many chemical experiments, are
such as cannot safely be put into the hands of children. But a list of
experiments, and of the things necessary to try them, might easily be
drawn out by a chemist who would condescend to such a task; and if
these materials, with proper directions, were to be found at a
rational toy-shop, parents would not be afraid of burning or poisoning
their children in the first chemical lessons. In some families, girls
are taught the confectionary art; might not this be advantageously
connected with some knowledge of chemistry, and might not they be
better taught than by Mrs. Raffeld or Mrs. Glass?[5] Every culinary
operation may be performed as an art, probably, as well by a cook as
by a chemist; but, if the chemist did not assist the cook now and then
with a little science, epicures would have great reason for
lamentation. We do not, by any means, advise that girls should be
instructed in confectionary arts, at the hazard of their keeping
company with servants. If they learn any thing of this sort, there
will be many precautions necessary to separate them from servants: we
do not advise that these hazards should be run; but if girls learn
confectionary, let them learn the principles of chemistry, which may
assist in this art.[6]
Children are very fond of attempting experiments in dying, and are
very curious about vegetable dyes; but they can seldom proceed for
want of the means of boiling, evaporating, distilling, and subliming.
Small stills, and small tea-kettles and lamps, would be extremely
useful to them: these might be used in the room with the children's
parents, which would prevent all danger: they should continue to be
the property of the parents, and should be produced only when they are
wanted. No great apparatus is necessary for showing children the first
simple operations in chemistry: such as evaporation, crystalization,
calcination, detonation, effervescence, and saturation. Water and
fire, salt and sugar, lime and vinegar, are not very difficult to be
procured; and a wine-glass is to be found in every house. The
difference between an acid and alkali should be early taught to
children; many grown people begin to learn chemistry, without
distinctly knowing what is meant by those terms.
In the selection of chemical experiments for young people, it will be
best to avoid such as have the appearance of jugglers tricks, as it is
not our purpose to excite the amazement of children for the moment,
but to give them a permanent taste for science. In a well known book,
called "Hooper's _Rational Recreations_," there are many ingenious
experiments; but through the whole work there is such a want of an
enlarged mind, and such a love of magic and deception appears, as must
render it not only useless, but unsafe, for young people, in its
present state. Perhaps a selection might be made from it in which
these defects might be avoided: such titles as "_The real apparition:
the confederate counters: the five beatitudes_: and _the book of
fate_," may be changed for others more _rational_. Receipts for
"_Changing winter into spring_," for making "_Self-raising pyramids,
inchanted mirrors_, and _intelligent flies_," might be omitted, or
explained to advantage. Recreation the 5th, "To tell by the dial of a
watch at what hour any person intends to rise;" Recreation the 12th,
"To produce the appearance of a phantom on a pedestal placed on the
middle of a table;" and Recreation the 30th, "To write several letters
which contain no meaning, upon cards; to make them, after they have
been twice shuffled, give an answer to a question that shall be
proposed;" as for example, "What is love?" scarcely come under the
denomination of Rational Recreations, nor will they much conduce to
the end proposed in the introduction to Hooper's work; that is to say,
in his own words, "To enlarge and fortify the mind of man, that he may
advance with tranquil steps through the flowery paths of
investigation, till arriving at some noble eminence, he beholds, with
awful astonishment, the boundless regions of science, and becomes
animated to attain a still more lofty station, whilst his heart is
incessantly rapt with joys of which the groveling herd have no
conception."
Even in those chemical experiments in this book, which are really
ingenious and entertaining, we should avoid giving the old absurd
titles, which can only confuse the understanding, and spoil the taste
of children. The tree of Diana, and "Philosophic wool," are of this
species. It is not necessary to make every thing marvellous and
magical, to fix the attention of young people; if they are properly
educated, they will find more amusement in discovering, or in
searching for the cause of the effects which they see, than in a blind
admiration of the juggler's tricks.
In the papers of the Manchester Society, in Franklin's letters, in
Priestley's and Percival's works, there may be found a variety of
simple experiments which require no great apparatus, and which will at
once amuse and instruct. All the papers of the Manchester Society,
upon the repulsion and attraction of oil and water, are particularly
suited to children, because they state a variety of simple facts; the
mind is led to reason upon them, and induced to judge of the different
conclusions which are drawn from them by different people. The names
of Dr. Percival, or Dr. Wall, will have no weight with children; they
will compare only the reasons and experiments. Oil and water, a cork,
a needle, a plate, and a glass tumbler, are all the things necessary
for these experiments. Mr. Henry's experiments upon the influence that
fixed air has on vegetation, and several of Reaumur's experiments,
mentioned in the memoirs of the French Academy of Sciences, are
calculated to please young people much, and can be repeated without
expense or difficulty.
To those who acquire habits of observation, every thing that is to be
seen or heard, becomes a source of amusement. Natural history
interests children at an early age; but their curiosity and activity
is often repressed and restrained by the ignorance or indolence of
their tutors. The most inquisitive genius grows tired of repeating,
"Pray look at this--What is it? What can the use of this be?" when the
constant answer is, "Oh! it's nothing worth looking at, throw it away,
it will dirty the house." Those who have attended to the ways of
children and parents, well know that there are many little
inconveniences attending their amusements, which the sublime eye of
the theorist in education overlooks, which, nevertheless, are
essential to practical success. "It will dirty the house," puts a stop
to many of the operations of the young philosopher; nor is it
reasonable that his experiments should interfere with the necessary
regularity of a well ordered family. But most well ordered families
allow their horses and their dogs to have houses to themselves; cannot
one room be allotted to the children of the family? If they are to
learn chemistry, mineralogy, botany, or mechanics; if they are to take
sufficient bodily exercise without tormenting the whole family with
noise, a room should be provided for them. We mention exercise and
noise in particular, because we think they will, to many, appear of
the most importance.
To direct children in their choice of fossils, and to give them some
idea of the general arrangements of mineralogy, toy-shops should be
provided with specimens of ores, &c. properly labelled and arranged,
in drawers, so that they may be kept in order. Children should have
empty shelves in their cabinets, to be filled with their own
collections; they will then know how to direct their researches, and
how to dispose of their treasures. If they have proper places to keep
things in, they will acquire a taste for order by the best means, by
feeling the use of it: to either sex, this taste will be highly
advantageous. Children who are active and industrious, and who have a
taste for natural history, often collect, with much enthusiasm, a
variety of pebbles and common stones, which they value as great
curiosities, till some surly mineralogist happens to see them, and
condemns them all with one supercilious "pshaw!" or else a journey is
to be taken, and there is no way in making up the heterogeneous,
cumbersome collection, which must, of course, be abandoned. Nay, if no
journey is to be taken, a visitor, perhaps, comes unexpectedly; the
little naturalist's apartment must be vacated on a few minutes notice,
and the labour of years falls a sacrifice, in an instant, to the
housemaid's undistinguishing broom.
It may seem trifling to insist so much upon such slight things, but,
in fact, nothing can be done in education without attention to minute
circumstances. Many who have genius to sketch large plans, have seldom
patience to attend to the detail which is necessary for their
accomplishment. This is a useful, and therefore, no humiliating
drudgery.
With the little cabinets, which we have mentioned, should be sold
cheap microscopes, which will unfold a world of new delights to
children; and it is very probable that children will not only be
entertained with looking at objects through a microscope, but they
will consider the nature of the magnifying glass. They should not be
rebuffed with the answer, "Oh, it's only a common magnifying glass,"
but they should be encouraged in their laudable curiosity; they may
easily be led to try slight experiments in optics, which will, at
least, give the habits of observation and attention. In Dr.
Priestley's History of Vision, many experiments may be found, which
are not above the comprehension of children of ten or eleven years
old; we do not imagine that any science can be taught by desultory
experiments, but we think that a taste for science may early be given
by making it entertaining, and by exciting young people to exercise
their reasoning and inventive faculties upon every object which
surrounds them. We may point out that great discoveries have often
been made by attention to slight circumstances. The blowing of soap
bubbles, as it was first performed as a scientific experiment by the
celebrated Dr. Hook, before the Royal Society, makes a conspicuous
figure in Dr. Priestley's chapter on the reflection of light; this may
be read to children, and they will be pleased when they observe that
what at first appeared only a trifling amusement, has occupied the
understanding, and excited the admiration, of some great philosophers.
Every child observes the colours which are to be seen in panes of
glass windows: in Priestley's History of Vision, there are some
experiments of Hook's and Lord Brereton's upon these colours, which
may be selected. Buffon's observations upon blue and green shadows,
are to be found in the same work, and they are very entertaining. In
Dr. Franklin's letters, there are numerous experiments, which are
particularly suited to young people; especially, as in every instance
he speaks with that candour and openness to conviction, and with that
patient desire to discover truth, which we should wish our pupils to
admire and imitate.
The history of the experiments which have been tried in the progress
of any science, and of the manner in which observations of minute
facts have led to great discoveries, will be useful to the
understanding, and will gradually make the mind expert in that mental
algebra, on which both reasoning and invention (which is, perhaps,
only a more rapid species of reasoning) depend. In drawing out a list
of experiments for children, it will, therefore, be advantageous to
place them in that order which will best exhibit their relative
connection; and, instead of showing young people the steps of a
discovery, we should frequently pause to try if they can invent. In
this, our pupils will succeed often beyond our expectations; and,
whether it be in mechanics, chemistry, geometry, or in the arts, the
same course of education will be found to have the same advantages.
When the powers of reason have been cultivated, and the inventive
faculty exercised; when general habits of voluntary exertion and
patient perseverance, have been acquired, it will be easy, either for
the pupil himself, or for his friends, to direct his abilities to
whatever is necessary for his happiness. We do not use the phrase,
_success in the world_, because, if it conveys any distinct ideas, it
implies some which are, perhaps, inconsistent with real happiness.
Whilst our pupils occupy and amuse themselves with observation,
experiment, and invention, we must take care that they have a
sufficient variety of manual and bodily exercises. A turning-lathe,
and a work-bench, will afford them constant active employment; and
when young people can invent, they feel great pleasure in the
execution of their own plans. We do not speak from vague theory; we
have seen the daily pleasures of the work-bench, and the persevering
eagerness with which young people work in wood, and brass, and iron,
when tools are put into their hands at a proper age, and when their
understanding has been previously taught the simple principles of
mechanics. It is not to be expected that any exhortations we could
use, could prevail upon a father, who happens to have no taste for
mechanics, or for chemistry, to spend any of his time in his
children's laboratory, or at their work-bench; but in his choice of a
tutor, he may perhaps supply his own defects; and he will consider,
that even by interesting himself in the daily occupations of his
children, he will do more in the advancement of their education, than
can be done by paying money to a hundred masters.
We do not mean to confine young people to the laboratory or the
work-bench, for exercise; the more varied exercises, the better. Upon
this subject we shall speak more fully hereafter: we have in general
recommended all trials of address and dexterity, except games of
chance, which we think should be avoided, as they tend to give a taste
for gambling; a passion, which has been the ruin of so many young men
of promising talents, of so many once happy families, that every
parent will think it well worth his while to attend to the smallest
circumstances in education, which can prevent its seizing hold of the
minds of his children.
In children, as in men, a taste for gaming arises from the want of
better occupation, or of proper emotion to relieve them from the pains
and penalties of idleness; both the vain and indolent are prone to
this taste from different causes. The idea of personal merit is
insensibly connected with what is called _good luck_, and before
avarice absorbs every other feeling, vanity forms no inconsiderable
part of the charm which fixes such numbers to the gaming-table.
Indolent persons are fond of games of chance, because they feel
themselves roused agreeably from their habitual state of apathy, or
because they perceive, that at these contests, without any mental
exertion, they are equal, perhaps superior, to their competitors.
Happy they, who have early been inspired with a taste for science and
literature! They will have a constant succession of agreeable ideas;
they will find endless variety in the commonest objects which surround
them; and feeling that every day of their lives they have sufficient
amusement, they will require no extraordinary excitations, no holyday
pleasures. They who have learnt, from their own experience, a just
confidence in their own powers; they who have tasted the delights of
well-earned praise, will not lightly trust to _chance_, for the
increase of self-approbation; nor will those pursue, with too much
eagerness, the precarious triumphs of fortune, who know, that in their
usual pursuits, it is in their own power to command success
proportioned to their exertions. Perhaps it may be thought, that we
should have deferred our eulogium upon literature till we came to
speak of Tasks; but if there usually appears but little connection in
a child's mind, between books and toys, this must be attributed to his
having had bad books and bad toys. In the hands of a judicious
instructer, no means are too small to be useful; every thing is made
conducive to his purposes, and instead of useless baubles, his pupils
will be provided with play things which may instruct, and with
occupations which may at once amuse and improve the understanding.
It would be superfluous to give a greater variety of instances of the
sorts of amusements which are advantageous; we fear that we have
already given too many, and that we have hazarded some observations,
which will be thought too pompous for a chapter upon Toys. We intended
to have added to this chapter an inventory of the present most
fashionable articles in our toy-shops, and _a list of the new
assortment_, to speak in the true style of an advertisement; but we
are obliged to defer this for the present; upon a future occasion we
shall submit it to the judgment of the public. A revolution, _even in
toy-shops_, should not be attempted, unless there appear a moral
certainty that we both may, and can, change for the better. The danger
of doing too much in education, is greater even than the danger of
doing too little. As the merchants in France answered to Colbert, when
he desired to know "how he could best assist them," children might,
perhaps, reply to those who are most officious to amuse them, "Leave
us to ourselves."
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Dr. Fothergill.
[3] Dr. Beddoes.
[4] We are indebted to Dr. Beddoes for this idea.
[5] We do not mean to do injustice to Mrs. Raffeld's professional
skill.
[6] V. Diderot's ingenious preface to "Chymie de gout et de l'odorat."