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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. II.
SECOND AMERICAN EDITION.
PUBLISHED
BY J. FRANCIS LIPPITT, PROVIDENCE, (R. I.) AND T. B. WAIT & SONS,
BOSTON.
T. B. Wait and Sons, Printers.
1815.
CONTENTS.
Chapter Page
XIII. _On Grammar and Classical Literature_ 5
XIV. _On Geography and Chronology_ 31
XV. _On Arithmetic_ 37
XVI. _Geometry_ 54
XVII. _On Mechanics_ 57
XVIII. _Chemistry_ 85
XIX. _On Public and Private Education_ 92
XX. _On Female Accomplishments, &c._ 109
XXI. _Memory and Invention_ 138
XXII. _Taste and Imagination_ 178
XXIII. _Wit and Judgment_ 214
XXIV. _Prudence and Economy_ 248
XXV. _Summary_ 267
APPENDIX.
_Notes, containing Conversations and Anecdotes of
Children_ 283
PRACTICAL EDUCATION.
CHAPTER XIII.
ON GRAMMAR, AND CLASSICAL LITERATURE.
As long as gentlemen feel a deficiency in their own education, when
they have not a competent knowledge of the learned languages, so long
must a parent be anxious, that his son should not be exposed to the
mortification of appearing inferiour to others of his own rank. It is
in vain to urge, that language is only the key to science; that the
names of things are not the things themselves; that many of the words
in our own language convey scarcely any, or at best but imperfect,
ideas; that the true genius, pronunciation, melody, and idiom of
Greek, are unknown to the best scholars, and that it cannot reasonably
be doubted, that if Homer or Xenophon were to hear their works read by
a professor of Greek, they would mistake them for the sounds of an
unknown language. All this is true; but it is not the ambition of a
gentleman to read Greek like an ancient Grecian, but to understand it
as well as the generality of his contemporaries; to know whence the
terms of most sciences are derived, and to be able, in some degree, to
trace the progress of mankind in knowledge and refinement, by
examining the extent and combination of their different vocabularies.
In some professions, Greek is necessary; in all, a certain proficiency
of Latin is indispensable; how, therefore, to acquire this proficiency
in the one, and a sufficient knowledge of the other, with the least
labour, the least waste of time, and the least danger to the
understanding, is the material question. Some school-masters would
add, that we must expedite the business as much as possible: of this
we may be permitted to doubt. _Festina lente_ is one of the most
judicious maxims in education, and those who have sufficient strength
of mind to adhere to it, will find themselves at the goal, when their
competitors, after all their bustle, are panting for breath, or
lashing their restive steeds. We see some untutored children start
forward in learning with rapidity: they seem to acquire knowledge at
the very time it is wanted, as if by intuition; whilst others, with
whom infinite pains have been taken, continue in dull ignorance; or,
having accumulated a mass of learning, are utterly at a loss how to
display, or how to use their treasures. What is the reason of this
phenomenon? and to which class of children would a parent wish his son
to belong? In a certain number of years, after having spent eight
hours a day in "durance vile," by the influence of bodily fear, or by
the infliction of bodily punishment, a regiment of boys may be drilled
by an indefatigable usher into what are called scholars; but, perhaps,
in the whole regiment not one shall ever distinguish himself, or ever
emerge from the ranks. Can it be necessary to spend so many years, so
many of the best years of life, in toil and misery? We shall calculate
the waste of time which arises from the study of ill written, absurd
grammar, and exercise-books; from the habits of idleness contracted by
school-boys, and from the custom of allowing holydays to young
students; and we shall compare the result of this calculation with the
time really necessary for the attainment of the same quantity of
classical knowledge by rational methods. We do not enter into this
comparison with any invidious intention, but simply to quiet the
apprehensions of parents; to show them the possibility of their
children's attaining a certain portion of learning within a given
number of years, without the sacrifice of health, happiness, or the
general powers of the understanding.
At all events, may we not begin by imploring the assistance of some
able and friendly hand to reform the present generation of grammars
and school-books? For instance, is it indispensably necessary that a
boy of seven years old should learn by rote, that "relative sentences
are independent, _i. e._ no word in a relative sentence is governed
either of verb, or adjective, that stands in another sentence, or
depends upon any appurtenances of the relative; and that the English
word 'That' is always a relative when it may be turned into _which_ in
good sense, which must be tried by reading over the English sentence
_warily_, and judging how the sentence will bear it, but when it
cannot be altered, salvo sensu, it is a conjunction?" Cannot we, for
pity's sake, to assist the learner's memory, and to improve his
intellect, substitute some sentences a little more connected, and
perhaps a little more useful, than the following?
"I have been a soldier--You have babbled--Has the crow ever looked
white?--Ye have exercised--Flowers have withered--We were in a
passion--Ye lay down--Peas were parched--The lions did roar a while
ago."
In a book of Latin exercises,[1] the preface to which informs us, that
"it is intended to contain such precepts of morality and religion, as
ought most industriously to be inculcated into the heads of all
learners, contrived so as that children may, as it were, insensibly
suck in such principles as will be of use to them afterwards in the
manly conduct and ordering of their lives," we might expect somewhat
more of pure morality and sense, with rather more elegance of style,
than appear in the following sentences:
"I struck my sister with a stick, and was forced to flee into the
woods; but when I had tarried there awhile, I returned to my parents,
and submitted myself to their mercy, and they forgave me my offence."
"When my dear mother, unknown to my father, shall send me money, I
will pay my creditors their debts, and provide a supper for all my
friends in my chamber, without my brother's consent, and will make
presents to all my relations."
So the measure of maternal tenderness is the sum of money, which the
dear mother, unknown to her husband, shall send to her son; the
measure of the son's generosity is the supper he is to give to all his
friends in his chamber, exclusive of his poor brother, of whose
offence we are ignorant. His munificence is to be displayed in making
presents to all his relations, but in the mean time he might possibly
forget to pay his debts, for "justice is a slow-paced virtue, and
cannot keep pace with generosity."
A reasonable notion of punishment, and a disinterested love of truth,
is well introduced by the following picture. "My master's countenance
was greatly changed when he found his beloved son guilty of a lie.
Sometimes he was pale with anger; sometimes he was red with rage; and
in the mean time, he, poor boy, was trembling, (for what?) for fear of
punishment." Could the ideas of punishment and vengeance be more
effectually joined, than in this portrait of the master red with rage?
After truth has been thus happily recommended, comes honesty. "Many
were fellow-soldiers with valiant Jason when he stole the golden
fleece: many were companions with him, but he bore away the glory of
the enterprise."
Valour, theft, and glory, are here happily combined. It will avail us
nothing to observe, that the golden fleece has an allegorical meaning,
unless we can explain satisfactorily the nature of an allegorical
theft; though to our classical taste this valiant Jason may appear a
glorious hero, yet to the simple judgment of children, he will appear
a robber. It is fastidious, however, to object to Jason in the
exercise-book, when we consider what children are to hear, and to hear
with admiration, as they advance in their study of poetry and
mythology.
Lessons of worldly wisdom, are not forgotten in our manual, which
professes to teach "_the manly conduct and ordering of life_" to the
rising generation. "Those men," we are told, "who have the most money,
obtain the greatest honour amongst men." But then again, "a poor man
is as happy without riches, _if_ he can enjoy contentedness of mind,
as the richest earl that coveteth greater honour." It may be useful to
put young men upon their guard against hypocrites and knaves; but is
it necessary to tell school-boys, that "it concerneth me, and all men,
to look to ourselves, for the world is so full of knaves and
hypocrites, that he is hard to be found who may be trusted?" That
"they who behave themselves the most warily of all men, and live more
watchfully than others, may happen to do something, which (if it be
divulged) may very much damnify their reputation?" A knowledge of the
world may be early requisite; but is it not going too far, to assure
young people, that "the nations of the world are at this time come to
that pass of wickedness, that the earth is like hell, and many men
have degenerated into devils?"
A greater variety of ridiculous passages from this tenth edition of
Garretson's Exercise-book, might be selected for the reader's
entertainment; but the following specimens will be sufficient to
satisfy him, that by this original writer, natural history is as well
taught as morality:
Man. "Man is a creature of an upright body; he walketh upright when he
is on a journey; and when night approaches, he lieth flat, and
sleepeth."
Horses. "A journey an hundred and fifty miles long, tireth an horse
that hath not had a moderate feed of corn."
Air, Earth, Fire, and Water. "The air is nearer the earth than the
fire; but the water is placed nearest to the earth, because these two
elements compose but one body."
It is an easy task, it will be observed, to ridicule absurdity. It is
easy to pull down what has been ill built; but if we leave the ruins
for others to stumble over, we do little good to society. Parents may
reasonably say, if you take away from our children the books they
have, give them better. They are not yet to be had, but if a demand
for them be once excited, they will soon appear. Parents are now
convinced, that the first books which children read, make a lasting
impression upon them; but they do not seem to consider spelling-books,
and grammars, and exercise-books, as books, but only as tools for
different purposes: these tools are often very mischievous; if we
could improve them, we should get our work much better done. The
barbarous translations, which are put as models for imitation into the
hands of school-boys, teach them bad habits of speaking and writing,
which are sometimes incurable. For instance, in the fourteenth edition
of Clarke's Cornelius Nepos, which the preface informs us was written
by a man full of indignation for the common practices of
grammar-schools, by a man who laments that youth should spend their
time "in tossing over the leaves of a dictionary, and hammering out
such a language as the Latin," we might expect some better translation
than the following, to form the young student's style:
"No body ever heard any other entertainment for the ears at _his_
(Atticus's) meals than a reader, which we truly think very pleasant.
Nor was there ever a supper at his house without some reading, that
their guests might be entertained in their minds as well as their
stomachs; _for_ he invited those whose manners were not different from
his own."
"He (Atticus) likewise had a touch at poetry, that he might not be
unacquainted with this pleasure, we suppose. _For_ he has related in
verses the lives of those who excelled the Roman people in honour, and
the greatness of their exploits. _So_ that he has described under each
of their images, their actions and offices in no more than four or
five verses, _which_ is scarcely to be believed _that_ such great
things could be so briefly delivered."
Those who, in reading these quotations, have perhaps exclaimed, "Why
must we go through this farrago of nonsense?" should reflect, that
they have now wasted but a few minutes of their time upon what
children are doomed to study for hours and years. If a few pages
disgust, what must be the effect of volumes in the same style! and
what sort of writing can we expect from pupils who are condemned to
such reading? The analogy of ancient and modern languages, differs so
materially, that a literal translation of any ancient author, can
scarcely be tolerated. Yet, in general, young scholars are under a
necessity of _rendering_ their Latin lessons into English word for
word, faithful to the taste of their dictionaries, or the notes in
their translations. This is not likely to improve the freedom of their
English style; or, what is of much more consequence, is it likely to
preserve in the pupil's mind a taste for literature? It is not the
time that is spent in pouring over lexicons, it is not the
multiplicity of rules learnt by rote, nor yet is it the quantity of
Latin words crammed into the memory, which can give the habit of
attention or the power of voluntary exertion: without these, you will
never have time enough to teach; with them, there will always be time
enough to learn.--One half hour's vigorous application, is worth a
whole day's constrained and yawning study. If we compare what from
experience we know can be done by a child of ordinary capacity in a
given time, with what he actually does in school-hours, we shall be
convinced of the enormous waste of time incident to the common methods
of instruction. Tutors are sensible of this; but they throw the blame
upon their pupils--"You might have learned your lesson in half the
time, if you had chosen it." The children also are sensible of this;
but they are not able or willing to prevent the repetition of the
reproach. But exertion does not always depend upon the will of the
boy; it depends upon his previous habits, and upon the strength of
the immediate motive which acts upon him. Some children of quick
abilities, who have too much time allotted for their classical
studies, are so fully sensible themselves of the pernicious effect
this has upon their activity of mind, that they frequently defer
_getting their lessons_ to the last moment, that they may be forced by
a sufficient motive to exert themselves. In _classes_ at public
schools, the quick and the slow, the active and indolent, the
stumbling and sure-footed, are all yoked together, and are forced to
keep pace with one another: stupidity may sometimes be dragged along
by the vigour of genius; but genius is more frequently chained down by
the weight of stupidity. We are well aware of the difficulties with
which the public preceptor has to contend; he is often compelled by
his situation to follow ancient usage, and to continue many customs
which he wishes to see reformed. Any reformation in the manner of
instruction in these public seminaries, must be gradual, and will
necessarily follow the conviction that parents may feel of its
utility. Perhaps nothing can be immediately done, more practicably
useful, than to simplify grammar, and to lighten as much as possible
the load that is laid upon the memory. Without a multiplicity of
masters, it would be impossible to suit instruction to the different
capacities, and previous acquirements, of a variety of pupils; but in
a private education, undoubtedly the task may be rendered much easier
to the scholar and to the teacher; much jargon may be omitted; and
what appears from want of explanation to be jargon, may be rendered
intelligible by proper skill and attention. During the first lessons
in grammar, and in Latin, the pupil need not be disgusted with
literature, and we may apply all the principles which we find on other
occasions successful in the management of the attention.[2] Instead of
keeping the attention feebly obedient for an idle length of time, we
should fix if decidedly by some sufficient motive for as short a
period as may be requisite to complete the work that we would have
done. As we apprehend, that even where children are to be sent to
school, it will be a great advantage to them to have some general
notions of grammar, to lead them through the labyrinth of common
school books, we think that we shall do the public preceptor an
acceptable service, if we point out the means by which parents may,
without much labour to themselves, render the first principles of
grammar intelligible and familiar to their children.
We may observe, that children pay the strictest attention to the
analogies of the language that they speak. Where verbs are defective
or irregular, they supply the parts that are wanting with wonderful
facility, according to the common form of other verbs. They make all
verbs regular. I go_ed_, I read_ed_, I writ_ed_, &c. By a proper
application of this faculty, much time may be saved in teaching
children grammar, much perplexity, and much of that ineffectual labour
which stupifies and dispirits the understanding. By gentle degrees, a
child may be taught the relations of words to each other in common
conversation, before he is presented with the first sample of
grammatical eloquence in Lilly's Accidence. "There be eight parts of
speech." A phrase which in some parts of this kingdom would perhaps be
understood, but which to the generality of boys who go to school,
conveys no meaning, and is got by heart without reflection, and
without advantage. A child can, however, be made to understand these
formidable parts of speech, if they are properly introduced to his
acquaintance: he can comprehend, that some of the words which he hears
express _that something is done_; he will readily perceive, that if
something is done, somebody, or something must do it: he will
distinguish with much facility the word in any common sentence which
expresses an action, and that which denotes the agent. Let the reader
try the experiment immediately upon any child of six or seven years
old who has _not_ learned grammar, and he may easily ascertain the
fact.
A few months ago, Mr. ---- gave his little daughter H----, a child of
five years old, her first lesson in English grammar; but no alarming
book of grammar was produced upon the occasion, nor did the father put
on an unpropitious gravity of countenance. He explained to the smiling
child the nature of a verb, a pronoun, and a substantive.
Then he spoke a short familiar sentence, and asked H----, to try if
she could find out which word in it was a verb, which a pronoun, and
which a substantive. The little girl found them all out most
successfully, and formed no painful associations with her first
grammatical lesson. But though our pupil may easily understand, he
will easily forget our first explanations; but provided he understands
them at the moment, we should pardon his forgetfulness, and we should
patiently repeat the same exercise several days successively; a few
minutes at each lesson will be sufficient, and the simplest sentences,
such as children speak themselves, will be the best examples. Mr.
----, after having talked four or five times, for a few minutes at a
time, with his son S----, when S---- was between five and six years
old, about grammar, asked him if he knew what a pronoun meant? The boy
answered, "A word that is said instead of a substantive." As these
words might have been merely remembered by rote, the father questioned
his pupil further, and asked him to name any pronoun that he
recollected. S----immediately said, "_I_ a pronoun." "Name another,"
said his father. The boy answered after some pause, as if he doubted
whether it was or was not a pronoun, _A_. Now it would have been very
imprudent to have made a sudden exclamation at the child's mistake.
The father, without showing any surprise, gently answered, "No, my
dear, _a_ does not stand in the place of any substantive. We say _a
man_, but the word _a_ does not mean a _man_, when it is said by
itself--Does it?"
_S----._ No.
_Father._ Then try if you can find out a word that does.
_S----._ He, and _Sir_.
_Sir_ does stand, in conversation, in the place of a man, or
gentleman; therefore the boy, even by this mistake, showed that he had
formed, from the definition that had been given to him, a general idea
of the nature of a pronoun, and at all events he exercised his
understanding upon the affair, which is the principal point we ought
to have in view.
An interjection is a part of speech familiar to children. Mr. Horne
Tooke is bitter in his contempt for it, and will scarcely admit it
into civilized company. "The brutish inarticulate interjection, which
has nothing to do with speech, and is only the miserable refuge of the
speechless, has been permitted to usurp a place amongst words,
&c."--"The neighing of a horse, the lowing of a cow, the barking of a
dog, the purring of a cat; sneezing, coughing, groaning, shrieking,
and every other involuntary convulsion with oral sound, have almost as
good a title to be called parts of speech, as interjections have."
Mr. Horne Tooke would have been pleased with the sagacity of a child
of five years old (S----) who called _laughing_ an interjection. Mr.
---- gave S----a slight pinch, in order to produce "an involuntary
convulsion with oral sound." And when the interjection Oh! was uttered
by the boy, he was told by his father, that the word was an
interjection; and, that "any word or noise, that expresses a sudden
feeling of the mind, may be called an interjection." S----immediately
said, "is laughing an interjection, then?" We hope that the candid
reader will not imagine, that we produce these _sayings_ of children
of four or five years old, without some sense of the danger of
ridicule; but we wish to give some idea of the sort of simple answers
which children are likely to make in their first grammatical lessons.
If too much is expected from them, the disappointment, which must be
quickly felt, and will be quickly shown by the preceptor, will
discourage the pupil. We must repeat, that the first steps should be
frequently retraced: a child should be _for some weeks_ accustomed to
distinguish an active verb, and its agent, or nominative case, from
every other word in a sentence, before we attempt to advance. The
objects of actions are the next class of words that should be
selected.
The fanciful, or at least what appears to the moderns fanciful,
arrangement of the cases amongst grammarians, may be dispensed with
for the present. The idea, that the nominative is a direct, upright
_case_, and that the genitive declines with the smallest obliquity
from it; the dative, accusative, and ablative, falling further and
further from the perpendicularity of speech, is a species of
metaphysics not very edifying to a child. Into what absurdity men of
abilities may be led by the desire of explaining what they do not
sufficiently understand, is fully exemplified in other sciences as
well as grammar.
The discoveries made by the author of Epea Pteroenta, show the
difference between a vain attempt to substitute analogy and rhetoric
in the place of demonstration and common sense. When a child has been
patiently taught in conversation to analyze what he says, he will take
great pleasure in the exercise of his new talent; he will soon
discover, that the cause of the action does not always come before the
verb in a sentence, that sometimes it follows the verb. "John beats
Thomas," and "Thomas is beaten by John," he will perceive mean the
same thing; he may, with very little difficulty, be taught the
difference between a verb active and a verb passive; that one brings
first before the mind the person or thing which performs the action,
and the other represents in the first place the person or thing upon
whom the action is performed. A child of moderate capacity, after he
has been familiarized to this general idea of a verb active and
passive, and after he has been taught the names of the cases, will
probably, without much difficulty, discover that the nominative case
to a passive verb becomes the accusative case to a verb active.
"School-masters are plagued by boys." A child sees plainly, that
school-masters are the persons upon whom the action of plaguing is
performed, and he will convert the sentence readily into "boys plague
school-masters."
We need not, however, be in any hurry to teach our pupil the names of
the cases; technical grammar may be easily learned, after a general
idea of rational grammar has been obtained. For instance, _the verb_
means only _the word_, or the principal word in a sentence; a child
can easily learn this after he has learnt what is meant by a sentence;
but it would be extremely difficult to make him comprehend it before
he could distinguish a verb from a noun, and before he had any idea of
the structure of a common sentence. From easy, we should proceed to
more complicated, sentences. The grammatical construction of the
following lines, for example, may not be immediately apparent to a
child:
"What modes of sight between each vast extreme,
The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam;
Of smell the headlong lioness between,
And hound sagacious on the tainted green."
"_Of Smell._" A girl of ten years old (C----) was asked if she could
tell what substantive the word "_of_" relates to; she readily
answered, "_modes_." C----had learned a general idea of grammar in
conversation, in the manner which we have described. It is asserted
from experience, that this method of instructing children in grammar
by conversation, is not only practicable, but perfectly easy, and that
the minds of children are adapted to this species of knowledge. During
life, we learn with eagerness whatever is congenial with our present
pursuits, and the acquisition of language is one of the most earnest
occupations of childhood. After distinct and ready knowledge of the
verb and nominative case has been acquired, the pupil should be taught
to distinguish the object of an action, or, in other words, the
objective or accusative case. He should be exercised in this, as in
the former lessons, repeatedly, until it becomes perfectly familiar;
and he should be encouraged to converse about these lessons, and to
make his own observations concerning grammar, without fear of the
preceptor's peremptory frown, or positive reference to "_his rules_."
A child of five years old, was asked what the word "_Here!_" meant; he
answered, "It means to give a thing."
"When I call a person, as, John! John! it seems to me," said a boy of
nine years old (S----) "it seems to me, that the vocative case is both
the verb and its accusative case." A boy who had ever been checked by
his tutor for making his own observations upon the mysterious subject
of grammar, would never have dared to have thought, or to have uttered
a new thought, so freely.--Forcing children to learn any art or
science by rote, without permitting the exercise of the understanding,
must materially injure their powers both of reasoning and of
invention. We acknowledge that Wilkins and Tooke have shown masters
how to teach grammar a little better than it was formerly taught.
Fortunately for the rising generation, all the words under the
denomination of adverbs, prepositions, and conjunctions, which were
absolute nonsense to us, may be easily explained to them, and the
commencement of instruction need no longer lay the foundation of
implicit acquiescence in nonsense. We refer to Mr. Horne Tooke's "Epea
Pteroenta," forbearing to dilate upon the principles of his work, lest
we should appear in the invidious light of authors who rob the works
of others to adorn their own. We cannot help expressing a wish, that
Mr. Horne Tooke would have the philanthropic patience to write an
elementary work in a _simple style_, unfolding his grammatical
discoveries to the rising generation.
When children have thus by gentle degrees, and by short and clear
conversations, been initiated in general grammar, and familiarized to
its technical terms, the first page of tremendous Lilly will lose much
of its horror. It has been taken for granted, that at the age of
which we have been speaking, a child can read English tolerably well,
and that he has been used to employ a dictionary. He may now proceed
to translate from some easy books a few short sentences: the first
word will probably be an adverb or conjunction; either of them may
readily be found in the Latin dictionary, and the young scholar will
exult in having translated one word of Latin; but the next word, a
substantive or verb, perhaps will elude his search. Now the grammar
may be produced, and something of the various terminations of a noun
may be explained. If _musam_ be searched for in the dictionary, it
cannot be found, but _musa_ catches the eye, and, with the assistance
of the grammar, it may be shown, that the meaning of words may be
discovered by the united helps of the dictionary and grammar. After
some days patient continuation of this exercise, the use of the
grammar, and of its uncouth collection of words and syllables, will be
apparent to the pupil: he will perceive that the grammar is a sort of
appendix to the dictionary. The grammatical formulae may then, by
gentle degrees, be committed to memory, and when once got by heart,
should be assiduously preserved in the recollection. After the
preparation which we have recommended, the singular number of a
declension will be learnt in a few minutes by a child of ordinary
capacity, and after two or three days repetition, the plural number
may be added. The whole of the first declension should be well fixed
in the memory before a second is attempted. During this process, a few
words at every lesson may be translated from Latin to English, and
such nouns as are of the first declension, may be compared with
_musa_, and may be declined according to the same form. Tedious as
this method may appear, it will in the end be found expeditious.
Omitting some of the theoretic or didactic part of the grammar, which
should only be read, and which may be explained with care and
patience, the whole of the declensions, pronouns, conjugations, the
list of prepositions and conjunctions, interjections, some adverbs,
the concords, and common rules of syntax, may be comprised with
sufficient repetitions in about two or three hundred lessons of ten
minutes each; that is to say, ten minutes application of the scholar
in the presence of the teacher. A young boy should never be set to
learn a lesson by heart when alone. Forty hours! Is this tedious? If
you are afraid of losing time, begin a few months earlier; but begin
when you will, forty hours is surely no great waste of time: the
whole, or even half of this short time, is not spent in the labour of
getting jargon by rote; each day some slight advance is made in the
knowledge of words, and in the knowledge of their combinations. What
we insist upon is, that _nothing should be done to disgust the pupil_:
steady perseverance, with uniform gentleness, will induce habit, and
nothing should ever interrupt the regular return of the daily lesson.
If absence, business, illness, or any other cause, prevent the
attendance of the teacher, a substitute must be appointed; the idea of
relaxation on Sunday, or a holyday, should never be permitted. In most
public seminaries above one third, in some nearly one half, of the
year is permitted to idleness: it is the comparison between severe
labour and dissipation, that renders learning hateful.
Johnson is made to say by one of his female biographers,[3] that no
child loves the person who teaches him Latin; yet the author of this
chapter would not take all the doctor's fame, and all the lady's wit
and riches, in exchange for the hourly, unfeigned, unremitting
friendship, which he enjoys with a son who had no other master than
his father. So far from being laborious or troublesome, he has found
it an agreeable employment to instruct his children in grammar and the
learned languages. In the midst of a variety of other occupations,
half an hour every morning for many years, during the time of
dressing, has been allotted to the instruction of boys of different
ages in languages, and no other time has been spent in this
employment. Were it asserted that these boys made _a reasonable
progress_, the expression would convey no distinct meaning to the
reader; we shall, therefore, mention an experiment tried this morning,
November 8th, 1796, to ascertain the progress of one of these pupils.
Without previous study, he translated twenty lines of the story of
Ceyx and Alcyone, from Ovid, consulting the dictionary only twice: he
was then desired to translate the passage which he had read into
English verse; and in two or three hours he produced the following
version. Much of the time was spent in copying the lines fairly, as
this opportunity was taken of exciting his attention to writing and
spelling, to associate the habit of application with the pleasure of
voluntary exertion. The _curious_ may, if they think it worth their
while, see the various _readings_ and corrections of the translation
(V. Chapter on Conversation, and Anecdotes of Children) which were
carefully preserved, not as "_Curiosities of Literature_," but for the
sake of truth, and with a desire to show, that the pupil had the
patience to correct. A _genius_ may hit off a few tolerable lines; but
if a child is willing and able to criticise and correct what he
writes, he shows that he selects his expressions from choice, and not
from chance or imitation; and he gives to a judicious tutor the
certain promise of future improvement.
"Far in a vale there lies a cave forlorn,
Which Phoebus never enters eve or morn,
The misty clouds inhale the pitchy ground,
And twilight lingers all the vale around.
No watchful cocks Aurora's beams invite;
No dogs nor geese, the guardians of the night:
No flocks nor herds disturb the silent plains;
Within the sacred walls mute quiet reigns,
And murmuring Lethe soothing sleep invites;
In dreams again the flying past delights:
From milky flowers that near the cavern grow,
Night scatters the collected sleep below."
S----, the boy who made this translation, was just ten years old; he
had made but three previous attempts in versification; his reading in
poetry had been some of Gay's fables, parts of the Minstrel, three
odes of Gray, the Elegy in a Country Church-yard, the Tears of Old
May-day, and parts of the second volume of Dr. Darwin's Botannic
Garden; Dryden's translations of the fable of Ceyx and Alcyone he had
never seen; the book had always been locked up. Phaedrus and Ovid's
Metamorphoses were the whole of his Latin erudition. These
circumstances are mentioned thus minutely, to afford the inquisitive
teacher materials for an accurate estimate of the progress made by our
method of instruction. Perhaps most boys of S----'s age, in our great
public seminaries, would, upon a similar trial, be found superior.
Competition in the art of translation is not our object; our object is
to show, that half an hour a day, steadily appropriated to grammar and
Latin, would be sufficient to secure a boy of this age, from any
danger of ignorance in classical learning; and that the ease and
shortness of his labour will prevent that disgust, which is too often
induced by forced and incessant application. We may add, that some
attention to the _manner_ in which the pupils repeat their Latin
lessons, has been found advantageous: as they were never put in bodily
fear, by the impatience of a pedagogue, they had leisure and
inclination to read and recite, without awkward gestures and
discordant tones. The whining tones and convulsive gestures often
contracted by boys during the agony of repeating their long lessons,
are not likely to be advantageous to the rising generation of orators.
Practice, and the strong motive of emulation, may, in a public
seminary, conquer these bad habits. After the pupil has learned to
speak ill, he _may_ be taught to speak well; but the chances are
against him: and why should we have the trouble of breaking bad
habits? It is much easier to prevent them. In private education, as
the preceptor has less chance of curing his pupil of the habit of
speaking ill, he should be peculiarly attentive to give the child
constant habits of speaking and reading well. It is astonishing, that
parents, who are extremely intent upon the education of their
children, should overlook some of the essential means of success. A
young man with his head full of Latin and law, will make but a poor
figure at the bar, or in parliament, if he cannot enunciate
distinctly, and if he cannot speak good English extempore, or produce
his learning and arguments with grace and propriety. It is in vain to
expect that a boy should speak well in public, who cannot, in common
conversation, utter three connected sentences without a false concord
or a provincial idiom; he may be taught with much care and cost to
speak _tripod_ sentences;[4] but bring the young orator to the test,
bring him to actual business, rouse any of his passions, throw him off
his guard, and then listen to his language; he will forget instantly
his reading master, and all his rules of pronunciation and rhetoric,
and he will speak the language to which he has been most accustomed.
No master will then be near him to regulate the pitch and tones of his
voice. We cannot believe that even Caius Gracchus could, when he was
warmed by passion, have listened to Licinius's pitch-pipe.[5] Example,
and constant attention to their manner of speaking in common
conversation, we apprehend to be the most certain methods of preparing
young men for public speakers. Much of the time that is spent in
teaching boys to walk upon stilts, might be more advantageously
employed in teaching them to walk well without them. It is all very
well whilst the pupil is under the protection of his preceptor. The
actor on the stage is admired whilst he is elevated by the cothurnus;
but young men are not to exhibit their oratorical talents always with
the advantages of stage effect and decorations. We should imagine,
that much of the diffidence felt by young men of abilities, when they
first rise to speak in public, may be attributed to their immediate
perception of the difference between scholastic exhibitions and the
real business of life; they feel that they have learned to speak two
languages, which must not, on any account, be mixed together; the one,
the vulgar language of common conversation; the other, the refined
language of oratorical composition: the first they are most inclined
to use when they are agitated; and they are agitated when they rise to
speak before numbers: consequently there is an immediate struggle
between custom and institution. Now, a young man, who in common
conversation in his own family has never been accustomed to hear or to
speak vulgar or ungrammatical language, cannot possibly apprehend that
he shall suddenly utter ridiculous expressions; he knows, that, if he
speaks at all, he shall at least speak good English; and he is not
afraid, that, if he is pursued, he shall be obliged to throw away his
cumbrous stilts. The practice of speaking in public, we are sensible,
is a great advantage; but the habit of speaking accurately in private,
is of still greater consequence: this habit depends upon the early and
persevering care of the parent and the preceptor. There is no reason
why children should not be made at the same time good scholars and
good speakers; nor is there any reason why boys, whilst they learn to
write Latin, should be suffered to forget how to write English.
It would be a great advantage to the young classical scholar, if his
Latin and English literature were mixed; the taste for ancient authors
and for modern literature, ought to be cultivated at the same time;
and the beauties of composition, characteristic of different
languages, should be familiarized to the student. Classical knowledge
and taste afford such continual and innocent sources of amusement,
that we should be extremely sorry that any of our pupils should not
enjoy them in their fullest extent; but we do not include a talent for
Latin composition amongst the _necessary_ accomplishments of a
gentleman. There are situations in life, where facility and elegance
in writing Latin may be useful, but such situations are not common;
when a young man is intended for them, he may be trained with more
particular assiduity to this art; perhaps for this purpose the true
Busbyean method is the best. The great Latin and Greek scholars of the
age, have no reason to be displeased by the assertion, that classical
proficiency equal to their own, is not a _necessary_ accomplishment in
a gentleman; if their learning become more rare, it may thence become
more valuable. We see no reason why there should not be Latinists as
well as special pleaders.
We have not laid down any course of classical study; those who
consider the order in which certain authors are read, as of material
consequence in the education of scholars, may consult Milton, Mrs.
Macaulay, "Milne's Well-bred Scholar," &c. where they will find
precise directions.
We have _lately_ seen a collection of exercises for boys,[6] which in
some measure supplies the defect of Mr. Garretson's curious
performance. We wish most earnestly that dictionaries were improved.
The author of "Stemmata Latinitatis," has conferred an essential
service on the public; but still there is wanting a dictionary for
schools, in which elegant and proper English might be substituted for
the barbarous translations now in use. Such a dictionary could not be
compiled, we should think, without an attention to the course of books
that are most commonly used in schools. The first meanings given in
the dictionary, should suit the first authors that a boy reads; this
may probably be a remote or metaphoric meaning: then the radical word
should be mentioned, and it would not cost a master any great trouble
to trace the genealogy of words to the parent stock.
Cordery is a collection of such mean sentences, and uninstructive
dialogue, as to be totally unfit for boys. Commenius's "Visible World
displayed," is far superior, and might, with proper alterations and
better prints, become a valuable _English_ school-book. Both these
books were intended for countries where the Latin language was
commonly spoken, and consequently they are filled with the terms
necessary for domestic life and conversation: for this very reason
they are not good introductions to the classics. Selections from
Bailey's Phaedrus, will be proper for young beginners, upon account of
the glossary. We prefer this mode of assisting them with glossaries to
the use of translations, because they do not induce indolent habits,
and yet they prevent the pupil from having unnecessary labour.
Translations always give the pupil more trouble in the end, than they
save in the beginning. The glossary to Bailey's Phaedrus, which we have
just mentioned, wants much to be modernized, and the language requires
to be improved. Mr. Valpy's "Select Sentences," would be much more
useful if they had a glossary annexed. As they are, they will,
however, be useful after Phaedrus. Ovid's Metamorphoses, with all its
monstrous faults, appears to be the best introduction to the Latin
classics, and to heathen mythology. Norris's Ovid may be safely put
into the hands of children, as it is a selection of the least
exceptionable fables. To accustom boys to read poetry and prose nearly
at the same period, is advantageous. Cornelius Nepos, a _crabbed_
book, but useful from its brevity, and from its being a proper
introduction to Grecian and Roman history, may be read nearly at the
same time with Ovid's Metamorphoses. After Ovid, the pupil may begin
Virgil, postponing some of the Eclogues, and all the Georgics.
We recommend that some English books should be put into the hands of
boys whilst they are going through Phaedrus, Ovid, and Cornelius Nepos,
which may suit with the ideas they acquire from these Latin authors.
Plutarch's Lives, for instance, will be useful and interesting. When
we mention Plutarch's Lives, we cannot help recollecting how many
great people have acknowledged the effect of this book in their early
education. Charles the Twelfth, Rousseau, Madame Roland, Gibbon, we
immediately remember, and we are sure we have noticed many others. An
abridgment of Plutarch, by Mrs. Helme, which we have looked into,
appears (the preface excepted) to be well written; and we see another
abridgment of Plutarch advertised, which we hope may prove
serviceable: good prints to a Plutarch for children, would be very
desirable.
As an English introduction to mythology, we recommend the first volume
of Lord Chesterfield's Letters, as a most elegant view of heathen
mythology. But if there be any danger that the first volume should
introduce the remainder of Lord Chesterfield's work to the
inexperienced reader, we should certainly forbear the experiment: it
would be far better for a young man never to be acquainted with a
single heathen deity, than to purchase Lord Chesterfield's classical
knowledge at the hazard of contamination from his detestable system of
morals. Without his Lordship's assistance, Mrs. Monsigny's Mythology
can _properly_ initiate the young pupil of either sex into the
mysteries of ancient fables. The notes to Potter's AEschylus, are also
well suited to our purpose. In Dr. Darwin's "Botanic Garden," there
are some beautiful poetic allusions to ancient gems and ancient
fables, which must fix themselves in the memory or in the imagination
of the pupil. The sooner they are read, the better; we have felt the
advantage of putting them into the hands of a boy of nine or ten years
old. The ear should be formed to English as well as to Latin poetry.
Classical poetry, without the knowledge of mythology, is
unintelligible: if children study the one, they must learn the other.
Divested of the charms of poetry, and considered without classical
prepossession, mythology presents a system of crimes and absurdities,
which no allegorical, metaphysical, or literal interpreters of modern
times, can perfectly reconcile to common sense, or common morality;
but our poets have naturalized ancient fables, so that mythology is
become essential even to modern literature. The associations of taste,
though arbitrary, are not easily changed in a nation whose literature
has attained to a certain pitch of refinement, and whose critical
judgments must consequently have been for some generations
traditional. There are subjects of popular allusion, which poets and
orators regard as common property; to dispossess them of these, seems
impracticable, after time has sanctioned the prescriptive right. But
new knowledge, and the cultivation of new sciences, present objects of
poetic allusion which, skilfully managed by men of inventive genius,
will oppose to the habitual reverence for antiquity, the charms of
novelty united to the voice of philosophy.[7]
In education we must, however, consider the actual state of manners in
that world in which our pupils are to live, as well as our wishes or
our hopes of its gradual improvement.[8] With a little care,
preceptors may manage so as to teach mythology without in the least
injuring their pupils. Children may be familiarized to the strange
manners and strange personages of ancient fable, and may consider them
as a set of beings who are not to be judged by any rules of morality,
and who have nothing in common with ourselves. The caricatura of some
of the passions, perhaps, will not shock children who are not used to
their natural appearance; they will pass over the stories of love and
jealousy, merely because they do not understand them. We should rather
leave them completely unintelligible, than attempt, like Mr. Riley, in
his mythological pocket dictionary for youth, to elucidate the whole
at once, by assuring children that Saturn was Adam, that Atlas is
Moses, and his brother Hesperus, Aaron; that Vertumnus and Pomona were
Boaz and Ruth; that Mars _corresponds_ with Joshua; that Apollo
_accords_ with David, since they both played upon the harp; that
Mercury can be no other than our Archangel Michael, since they both
have wings on their arms and feet; that, in short, to complete the
concordance, Momus is a striking likeness of Satan. The ancients, Mr.
Riley allows, have so much disfigured these personages, that it is
hard to know many of the portraits again at first sight; however, he
is persuaded that "the young student will find a peculiar
gratification in tracing the likeness," and he has kindly furnished us
with a catalogue to explain the exhibition, and to guide us through
his new pantheon.
As books of reference, the convenient size, and compressed
information, of _pocket_ mythological dictionaries, will recommend
them to general use; but we object to the miserable prints with which
they are sometimes disgraced. The first impression made upon the
imagination[9] of children, is of the utmost consequence to their
future taste. The beautiful engravings[10] in Spence's Polymetis, will
introduce the heathen deities in their most graceful and picturesque
forms to the fancy. The language of Spence, though classical, is not
entirely free from pedantic affectation, and his dialogues are,
perhaps, too stiff and long winded for our young pupils. But a parent
or preceptor can easily select the useful explanations; and in
turning over the prints, they can easily associate some general
notion of the history and attributes of the gods and goddesses with
their forms: the little eager spectators will, as they crowd round the
book, acquire imperceptibly all the necessary knowledge of mythology,
imbibe the first pleasing ideas of taste, and store their imagination
with classic imagery. The same precautions that are necessary to
educate the eye, are also necessary to form the ear and understanding
of taste. The first mythological descriptions which our pupils read,
should be the best in their kind. Compare the following account of
Europa in a pocket dictionary, with her figure in a poetical
gem--"Europa, the daughter of Agenor, king of the Phoenicians, and
sister of Cadmus. This princess was so beautiful, that, they say, one
of the companions of Juno had robbed her of a pot of paint to bestow
on this lady, which rendered her so handsome. She was beloved of
Jupiter, who assumed the shape of a bull to run away with her, swam
over the sea with her on his back, and carried her into that part of
the world now called Europe, from her name." So far the dictionary;
now for the poet.
"Now lows a milk-white bull on Afric's strand,
And crops with dancing head the daisy'd land;
With rosy wreathes Europa's hand adorns
His fringed forehead and his pearly horns;
Light on his back the sportive damsel bounds,
And, pleas'd, he moves along the flowery grounds;
Bears with slow step his beauteous prize aloof,
Dips in the lucid flood his ivory hoof;
Then wets his velvet knees, and wading laves
His silky sides, amid the dimpling waves.
While her fond train with beckoning hands deplore,
Strain their blue eyes, and shriek along the shore:
Beneath her robe she draws her snowy feet,
And, half reclining on her ermine seat,
Round his rais'd neck her radiant arms she throws,
And rests her fair cheek on his curled brows;
Her yellow tresses wave on wanton gales,
And high in air her azure mantle sails."[11]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Garretson's Exercises, the tenth edition.
[2] V. Chapter on Attention.
[3] Mrs. Piozzi.
[4] V. Blair.
[5] V. Plutarch.
[6] Valpy's Exercises.
[7] V. Darwin's Poetry.
[8] Since the above was written, we have seen a letter from Dr. Aikin
to his son on the _morality_ and _poetic merit_ of the fable of Circe,
which convinces us that the observations that we have hazarded are not
premature.
[9] Chapter on Imagination.
[10] We speak of these engravings as _beautiful_, for the times in
which they were done; modern artists have arrived at higher
perfection.
[11] Darwin. V. Botanic Garden.