ON FEMALE ACCOMPLISHMENTS, MASTERS, AND GOVERNESSES.
Some years ago, an opera dancer at Lyon's, whose charms were upon the
wane, applied to an English gentleman for a recommendation to some of
his friends in England, as a governess for young ladies. "Do you
doubt," said the lady (observing that the gentleman was somewhat
confounded by the easy assurance of her request) "do you doubt my
capability? Do I not speak good Parisian French? Have I any provincial
accent? I will undertake to teach the language grammatically. And for
music and dancing, without vanity, may I not pretend to teach them to
any young person?" The lady's excellence in all these particulars was
unquestionable. She was beyond dispute a highly accomplished woman.
Pressed by her forcible interrogatories, the gentleman was compelled
to hint, that an English mother of a family might be inconveniently
inquisitive about the private history of a person who was to educate
her daughters. "Oh," said the lady, "I can change my name; and, at my
age, nobody will make further inquiries."
Before we can determine how far this lady's pretensions were ill
founded, and before we can exactly decide what qualifications are most
desirable in a governess, we must form some estimate of the positive
and relative value of what are called accomplishments.
We are not going to attack any of them with cynical asperity, or with
the ambition to establish any new dogmatical tenets in the place of
old received opinions. It can, however, do no harm to discuss this
important subject with proper reverence and humility. Without alarming
those mothers, who declare themselves above all things anxious for
the rapid progress of their daughters in every fashionable
accomplishment, it may be innocently asked, what price such mothers
are willing to pay for these _advantages_. Any price within the limits
of our fortune! they will probably exclaim.
There are other standards by which we can measure the value of
objects, as well as by money. "Fond mother, would you, if it were in
your power, accept of an opera dancer for your daughter's governess,
upon condition that you should live to see that daughter dance the
best minuet at a birth-night ball?"
"Not for the world," replies the mother. "Do you think I would hazard
my daughter's innocence and reputation, for the sake of seeing her
dance a good minuet? Shocking! Absurd! What can you mean by such an
outrageous question?"
"To fix your attention. Where the mind has not precisely ascertained
its wishes, it is sometimes useful to consider extremes; by
determining what price you will _not_ pay, we shall at length
ascertain the value which you set upon the object. Reputation and
innocence, you say, you will not, upon any account, hazard. But would
you consent that your daughter should, by universal acclamation, be
proclaimed the most accomplished woman in Europe, upon the simple
condition, that she should pass her days in a nunnery?"
"I should have no right to make such a condition; domestic happiness I
ought certainly to prefer to public admiration for my daughter. Her
accomplishments would be of little use to her, if she were to be shut
up from the world: who is to be the judge of them in a nunnery?"
"I will say no more about the nunnery. But would not you, as a good
mother, consent to have your daughter turned into an automaton for
eight hours in every day for fifteen years, for the promise of hearing
her, at the end of that time, pronounced the first private performer
at the most fashionable and most crowded concert in London?"
"Eight hours a day for fifteen years, are too much. No one need
practise so much to become the first performer in England."
"That is another question. You have not told me whether you would
sacrifice so much of your daughter's existence for such an object,
supposing that you could obtain it at no other price."
"For _one_ concert?" says the hesitating mother; "I think it would be
too high a price. Yet I would give any thing to have my daughter play
better than any one in England. What a distinction! She would be
immediately taken notice of in all companies! She might get into the
first circles in London! She would want neither beauty nor fortune to
recommend her! She would be a match for any man, who has any taste for
music! And music is universally admired, even by those who have the
misfortune to have no taste for it. Besides, it is such an elegant
accomplishment in itself! Such a constant source of innocent
amusement! Putting every thing else out of the question, I should wish
my daughter to have every possible accomplishment, because
accomplishments are such charming _resources_ for young women; they
keep them out of harm's way; they make a vast deal of their idle time
pass so pleasantly to themselves and others! This is my _chief_ reason
for liking them."
Here are so many reasons brought together at once, along with the
chief reason, that they are altogether unanswerable; we must separate,
class, and consider them one at a time. Accomplishments, it seems, are
valuable, as being the objects of universal admiration. Some
accomplishments have another species of value, as they are tickets of
admission to fashionable company. Accomplishments have another, and a
higher species of value, as they are supposed to increase a young
lady's chance of a prize in the matrimonial lottery. Accomplishments
have also a value as resources against ennui, as they afford continual
amusement and innocent occupation. This is ostensibly their chief
praise; it deserves to be considered with respect. False and odious
must be that philosophy which would destroy any one of the innocent
pleasures of our existence. No reward was thought too high for the
invention of a new pleasure; no punishment would be thought too severe
for those who would destroy an old one. Women are peculiarly
restrained in their situation, and in their employments, by the
customs of society: to diminish the number of these employments,
therefore, would be cruel; they should rather be encouraged, by all
means, to cultivate those tastes which can attach them to their home,
and which can preserve them from the miseries of dissipation. Every
sedentary occupation must be valuable to those who are to lead
sedentary lives; and every art, however trifling in itself, which
tends to enliven and embellish domestic life, must be advantageous,
not only to the female sex, but to society in general. As far as
accomplishments can contribute to all or any of these excellent
purposes, they must be just objects of attention in early education.
A number of experiments have already been tried; let us examine the
result. Out of the prodigious number of young women who learn music
and drawing, for instance, how many are there, who, after they become
mistresses of their own time, and after they have the choice of their
own amusements, continue to practise these accomplishments for the
pure pleasure of occupation? As soon as a young lady is married, does
she not frequently discover, that "she really has not _leisure_ to
cultivate talents which take up so much time?" Does she not complain
of the labour of practising four or five hours a day to keep up her
musical character? What motive has she for perseverance? She is,
perhaps, already tired of playing to all her acquaintance. She may
really take pleasure in hearing good music; but her own performance
will not then please her ear so much as that of many others. She will
prefer the more indolent pleasure of hearing the best music that can
be heard for money at public concerts. She will then of course leave
off playing, but continue very fond of music. How often is the labour
of years thus lost for ever!
Those who have excelled in drawing, do not appear to abandon the
occupation so suddenly; it does not demand such an inordinate quantity
of time to keep up the talent; the exertion of the imitative powers
with apparent success, is agreeable; the employment is progressive,
and, therefore, the mind is carried on to complete what has been
begun. Independently of all applause, which may be expected for the
performance, there is a pleasure in going on with the work. But
setting aside enthusiasm and habit, the probability that any sensible
person will continue to pursue a given employment, must depend, in a
great measure, upon their own conviction of its utility, or of its
being agreeable to those whom they wish to please. The pleasure which
a lady's friends receive from her drawings, arises chiefly from the
perception of their comparative excellence. Comparative excellence is
all to which gentlewomen artists usually pretend, all to which they
expect to attain; positive excellence is scarcely attained by one in a
hundred. Compared with the performances of other young ladies of their
acquaintance, the drawings of Miss X or Y may be justly considered as
charming! admirable! and astonishing! But there are few drawings by
young ladies which can be compared with those of a professed artist.
The wishes of obliging friends are satisfied with a few drawings in
handsome frames, to be hung up for the young lady's credit; and when
it is allowed amongst their acquaintance, that she draws in a
_superior_ style, the purpose of this part of her education is
satisfactorily answered. We do not here speak of those few individuals
who really _excel_ in drawing, who have learnt something more than the
common routine which is usually learnt from a drawing master, who have
acquired an agreeable, talent, not for the mere purpose of exhibiting
themselves, but for the sake of the occupation it affords, and the
pleasure it may give to their _friends_. We have the pleasure of
knowing some who exactly answer to this description, and who must feel
themselves distinct and honourable exceptions to these general
observations.
From whatever cause it arises, we may observe, that after young women
are settled in life, their taste for drawing and music gradually
declines. For this fact, we can appeal only to the recollection of
individuals. We may hence form some estimate of the real value which
ought to be put upon what are called accomplishments, _considered as
occupations_. Hence we may also conclude, that parents do not form
their judgments from the facts which they see every day in real life;
or else may we not infer, that they deceive themselves as to their own
motives; and that, amongst the reasons which make them so anxious
about the accomplishments of their daughters, there are some secret
motives more powerful than those which are usually openly
acknowledged?
It is admitted in the cabinet council of mothers, that some share of
the value of accomplishments depends upon the demand for them in the
fashionable world. "A young lady," they say, "is nobody, and nothing,
without accomplishments; they are as necessary to her as a fortune:
they are indeed considered as part of her fortune, and sometimes are
even found to supply the place of it. Next to beauty, they are the
best tickets of admission into society which she can produce; and
every body knows, that on the company she keeps, depends the chance of
a young woman's settling advantageously in the world."
To judge of what will please and attach men of superior sense and
characters--we are not quite certain that these are the men who are to
be considered first, when we speak of a young lady's settling
_advantageously_ in the world; but we will take this for granted--to
judge of what will please and attach men of superior sense and
characters, we must observe their actual conduct in life, and listen
to their speculative opinions. Superficial accomplishments do not
appear to be the objects of their preference. In enumerating the
perfections of his wife, or in retracing the progress of his love,
does a man of sense dwell upon his mistress's skill in drawing, or
dancing, or music? No. These, he tells you, are extremely agreeable
talents, but they could have never attached him; they are subordinate
parts in her character; he is angry that you can rank them amongst her
perfections; he knows that a thousand women possess these
accomplishments, who have never touched his heart. He does not,
perhaps, deny, that in Chloe, altogether, they have power to please,
but he does not think them essential to her power.
The opinion of women, who have seen a good deal of the world, is worth
attending to upon this subject; especially if we can obtain it when
their passions are wholly uninterested in their decision. Whatever may
be the judgment of individuals concerning the character and politics
of the celebrated Madame Roland, her opinion as a woman of abilities,
and a woman who had seen a variety of life, will be thought deserving
of attention. Her book was written at a time when she was in daily
expectation of death, when she could have no motive to conceal her
real sentiments upon any subject. She gives an account of her
employments in prison, and, amongst others, mentions music and
drawing.
"I then employed myself in drawing till dinner time. I had so long
been out of the habit of using a pencil, that I could not expect to be
very dexterous; but we commonly retain the power of repeating with
pleasure, or at least of attempting with ease, whatever we have
successfully practised in our youth. Therefore the study of the fine
arts, considered as a part of female education, should be attended to,
much less with a view to the acquisition of superior talents, than
with a desire to give women a taste for industry, the habit of
application, and a greater variety of employments; for these assist us
to escape from _ennui_, the most cruel disease of civilized society;
by these we are preserved from the dangers of vice, and even from
those seductions which are far more likely to lead us astray.
"I would not make my daughter a _performer_.[32] I remember, that my
mother was afraid that I should become a great musician, or that I
should have devoted myself entirely to painting: she wished that I
should, above all other things, love the duties of my sex: that I
should be a good economist, a good mistress, as well as a good mother
of a family. I wish my Eudora to be able to accompany her voice
agreeably on the harp. I wish that she may play agreeably on the
piano-forte; that she may know enough of drawing, to feel pleasure
from the sight and from the examination of the finest pictures of the
great painters; that she may be able to draw a flower that happens to
please her; and that she may unite in her dress elegance and
simplicity. I should wish that her talents might be such, that they
should neither excite the admiration of others, nor inspire her with
vanity; I should wish that she should please by the general effect of
her whole character, without ever striking any body with astonishment
at first sight; and that she should attach by her good qualities,
rather than shine by her accomplishments."
Women cannot foresee what may be the tastes of the individuals with
whom they are to pass their lives. Their own tastes should not,
therefore, be early decided; they should, if possible, be so educated
that they may attain any talent in perfection which they may desire,
or which their circumstances may render necessary. If, for instance, a
woman were to marry a man who was fond of music, or who admired
painting, she should be able to cultivate these talents for his
amusement and her own. If he be a man of sense and feeling, he will
be more pleased with the motive than with the thing that is actually
done. But if it be urged, that all women cannot expect to marry men of
sense and feeling; and if we are told, that nevertheless they must
look to "an advantageous establishment," we must conclude, that men of
rank and fortune are meant by that comprehensive phrase. Another set
of arguments must be used to those who speculate on their daughters
accomplishments in this line. They have, perhaps, seen some instances
of what they call success; they have seen some young women of their
acquaintance, whose accomplishments have attracted men of fortune
superior to their own; consequently, maternal tenderness is awakened,
and many mothers are sanguine in their expectations of the effect of
their daughters education. But they forget that every body now makes
the same reflections, that parents are, and have been for some years,
speculating in the same line; consequently, the market is likely to be
overstocked, and, of course, the value of the commodities must fall.
Every young lady (and every young woman is now a young lady) has some
pretensions to accomplishments. She draws a little; or she plays a
little, or she speaks French a little. Even the blue-board boarding
schools, ridiculed by Miss Allscript in the Heiress, profess to
perfect young ladies in some or all of these necessary parts of
education. Stop at any good inn on the London roads, and you will
probably find that the landlady's daughter can show you some of her
own framed drawings, can play a tune upon her spinnet, or support a
dialogue in French of a reasonable length, in the customary questions
and answers. Now it is the practice in high life to undervalue, and
avoid as much as possible, every thing which descends to the inferiour
classes of society. The dress of to-day is unfashionable to-morrow,
because every body wears it. The dress is not preferred because it is
pretty or useful, but because it is the distinction of well bred
people. In the same manner accomplishments have lost much of that
value which they acquired from opinion, since they have become common.
They are now so common, that they cannot be considered as the
distinguishing characteristics of even a gentlewoman's education. The
higher classes in life, and those individuals who aim at distinction,
now establish another species of monopoly, and secure to themselves a
certain set of expensive masters in music, drawing, dancing, &c. and
they endeavour to believe, and to make others believe, that no one can
be well educated without having served an apprenticeship of so many
lessons under some of these privileged masters. But it is in vain that
they intrench themselves, they are pursued by the intrusive vulgar. In
a wealthy, mercantile nation, there is nothing which can be bought for
money, which will long continue to be an envied distinction. The hope
of attaining to that degree of eminence in the fine arts which really
deserves celebrity, becomes every day more difficult to private
practitioners, because the number of competitors daily increases; and
it is the interest of masters to forward their pupils by every
possible means. Both genius and perseverance must now be united to
obtain the prize of distinction; and how seldom are they found, or
kept together, in the common course of education!
Considering all these circumstances, is not there some reason to
apprehend, that in a few years the taste for several fashionable
appendages of female education, may change, and that those will
consequently be treated with neglect, who have no other claim to
public regard, than their proficiency in what may, perhaps, then be
thought vulgar or obsolete accomplishments? Our great grandmothers
distinguished themselves by truly substantial tent-work chairs and
carpets, by needle-work pictures of Solomon and the queen of Sheba.
These were admirable in their day, but their day is over; and these
useful, ingenious, and laborious specimens of female talents, are
consigned to the garret, or they are produced but as curiosities, to
excite wonder at the strange patience and miserable destiny of former
generations: the taste for tapestry and embroidery is thus past; the
long labours of the loom have ceased. Cloth-work, crape-work,
chenille-work, ribbon-work, wafer-work, with a long train of
etceteras, have all passed away in our own memory; yet these conferred
much evanescent fame, and a proportional quantity of vain emulation. A
taste for drawing, or music, cannot be classed with any of these
trifling performances; but there are many faded drawings of the
present generations, which cannot stand in competition with the
glowing and faithful colours of the silk and worsted of former times;
and many of the hours spent at a _stammering_ harpsichord, might,
surely, with full as much domestic advantage, have been devoted to the
embellishment of chairs and carpets. We hope that no one will so
perversely misunderstand us, as to infer from these remarks, that we
desire to see the revival of old tapestry work; or that we condemn the
elegant accomplishments of music and drawing. We condemn only the
abuse of these accomplishments; we only wish that they should be
considered as domestic occupations, not as matters of competition, or
of exhibition, nor yet as the means of attracting temporary
admiration. We are not afraid that any, who are really conscious of
having acquired accomplishments with these prudent and honourable
views, should misapprehend what has been said. Mediocrity may,
perhaps, attempt to misrepresent our remarks, and may endeavour to
make it appear that we have attacked, and that we would discourage,
every effort of female taste and ingenuity in the fine arts; we
cannot, therefore, be too explicit in disclaiming such illiberal
views.
We have not yet spoken of dancing, though it is one of the most
admired of female accomplishments. This evidently is an amusement, not
an occupation; it is an agreeable exercise, useful to the health, and
advantageous, as it confers a certain degree of habitual ease and
grace. Mr. Locke seems to think, that it gives young people confidence
in themselves when they come into company, and that it is, therefore,
expedient to teach children early to dance: but there are so many
other methods of inspiring young people with this confidence in
themselves, that it appears unnecessary to lay much stress upon this
argument. If children live in good company, and see constantly people
with agreeable manners, they will acquire manners which the dancing
master does not always teach; and they will easily vary their forms of
politeness with the fashion of the day. Nobody comes into a room
regularly as their dancing master taught them to make their entrance;
we should think a strict adherence to his lessons ridiculous and
awkward in well bred company; therefore much must be left to the
discretion and taste of the pupil, after the dancing master has made
his last bow. Ease of manners is not always attained by those who have
been strictly disciplined by a Vestris, because the lessons are not
always practised in precisely the same circumstances in which they
were learnt: this confuses and confounds the pupils, and they rather
lose than gain confidence in themselves, from perceiving that they
cannot immediately apply what they have been taught. But we need not
expatiate upon this subject, because there are few parents of good
sense, in any rank of life, who will not perceive that their
daughter's manners cannot be formed or polished by a dancing-master.
We are not to consider dancing in a grave and moral light; it is an
amusement much more agreeable to young people, and much better suited
to them in every respect, than cards, or silent assemblies of formal
visiters. It promotes cheerfulness, and prevents, in some measure, the
habits of gossiping conversation, and the love of scandal. So far we
most willingly agree with its most vivacious advocates, in its common
eulogium. But this is not, we fear, saying enough. We see, or fancy
that we see, the sober matron lay down her carefully assorted cards
upon the card-table, and with dictatorial solemnity she pronounces,
"That dancing is something more than an amusement; that girls must
learn to dance, because they must appear well in public; because the
young ladies who dance the best, are usually most _taken notice_ of in
public; most admired by the other sex; most likely, in short, not only
to-have their choice of the best partner in a ball room, but sometimes
of the best partner for life."
With submission to maternal authority, these arguments do not seem to
be justified of late years. Girls, who dance remarkably well, are, it
is true, admired in a ball room, and followed, perhaps, by those idle,
thoughtless young men, who frequent public places merely for want of
something else to do. This race of beings are not particularly
calculated to make good husbands in any sense of the word; nor are
they usually disposed to think of marriage in any other light than as
the last desperate expedient to repair their injured fortunes. They
set their wits against the sex in general, and consider themselves as
in danger of being jockeyed into the matrimonial state. Some few,
perhaps, who have not brought their imagination sufficiently under the
command of the calculating faculty, are _caught_ by beauty and
accomplishments, and marry against the common rules of interest. These
men are considered with pity, or with ridicule, by their companions,
as dupes who have suffered themselves to be taken in: others are
warned by their fate; and the future probability of similar _errours_,
of course, must be diminished. The fashionable apathy, whether real or
affected, with which young men lounge in public places, with scarcely
the appearance of attention to the fair exhibitors before them,
sufficiently marks the temper of the times; and if the female sex have
lost any thing of the respect and esteem which ought to be paid to
them in society, they can scarcely expect to regain their proper
influence by concessions to the false and vitiated taste of those who
combine to treat them with neglect bordering upon insolence. If the
system of female education, if the system of female manners, conspire
to show in the fair sex a degrading anxiety to attract worthless
admiration, wealthy or titled homage, is it surprising that every
young man, who has any pretensions to birth, fortune, or fashion,
should consider himself as the arbiter of their fate, and the despotic
judge of their merit? Women, who understand their real interests,
perceive the causes of the contempt with which the sex is treated by
fashionable coxcombs, and they feel some indignation at the meanness
with which this contempt, tacitly or openly expressed, is endured.
Women, who feel none of this indignation, and who, either from their
education, or their circumstances, are only solicitous to obtain
present amusement, or what they think the permanent advantages of a
fortunate alliance, will yet find themselves mistaken by persisting in
their thoughtless career; they will not gain even the objects to which
they aspire. How many accomplished belles run the usual round of
dissipation in all public places of exhibition, tire the public eye,
and, after a season or two, fade and are forgotten! How many
accomplished belles are there, who, having gained the object of their
own, or of their mother's ambition, find themselves doomed to misery
for life! Those unequal marriages, which are sometimes called
_excellent matches_, seldom produce much happiness. And where
happiness is not, what _is_ all the rest?
If all, or any of these reflections, should strike the heart, and
convince the understanding, of an anxious, but reasonable mother, she
will, probably, immediately determine upon her own conduct in the
education of her daughters: she will resolve to avoid the common
errours of the frivolous or the interested; she will not be influenced
by the importunity of every idle acquaintance, who may talk to her of
the necessity of her daughter's being taken notice of in public, of
the chances of an _advantageous_ establishment, of the good fortune
of Miss Y----, or lady Angelina X----, in meeting with a coxcomb or a
spendthrift for a husband; nor will she be moved with maternal
emulation when she is further told, that these young ladies owed their
_success_ entirely to the superiority of their accomplishments: she
will consider, for one moment, what is meant by the word success; she
will, perhaps, not be of opinion that "'tis best repenting in a coach
and six;" she will, perhaps, reflect, that even the "soft sounds" of
titled grandeur lose their power to please, and "salute the ear"
almost unobserved. The happiness, the permanent happiness of her
child, will be the first, the last object of the good and the
enlightened mother: to this all her views and all her efforts will
tend; and to this she will make every fashionable, every elegant
accomplishment subservient.
As to the means of acquiring these accomplishments, it would be
absurd, and presumptuous, to present here any vague precepts, or
tedious details, upon the mode of learning drawing, dancing, and
music. These can be best learned from the masters who profess to teach
them, as far as the technical part is necessary. But success will not
ultimately depend upon any technical instructions that a master can
give: he may direct the efforts of industry so as to save much useless
labour; he may prevent his pupils from acquiring bad practical habits;
he may assist, but he cannot inspire, the spirit of perseverance. A
master, who is not expected, or indeed allowed, to interfere in the
general education of his pupils, can only diligently attend to them
whilst he is giving his lessons; he has not any power, except that
pernicious motive, competition, to excite them to excel; his
instructions cannot be peculiarly adapted to their tempers or their
understandings, because with these he is unacquainted. Now a sensible
mother has it in her power to supply all these deficiencies; even if
she does not herself excel in any of the accomplishments which her
daughters are learning, her knowledge of their minds, her taste, her
judgment, her affection, her superintending intelligence, will be of
inestimable value to her children. If she has any skill in any
accomplishment, she will, for the first years of her daughters' lives,
be undoubtedly the best person to instruct them. By skill, we do not
mean superior talents, or proficiency in music or drawing; without
these, she may be able to teach all that is necessary in the early
part of education. One of the best motives which a woman can have to
cultivate her talents after she marries, is the hope and belief, that
she may be essentially serviceable in the instruction of her family.
And that she may be essentially serviceable, let no false humility
lead her to doubt. She need not be anxious for the rapid progress of
her little pupils; she need not be terrified if she see their equals
in age surpass them under what she thinks more able tuition; she may
securely satisfy herself, that if she but inspires her children with a
desire to excel, with the habits of attention and industry, they will
certainly succeed, sooner or later, in whatever it is desirable that
they should learn. The exact age at which the music, dancing, or
drawing master, should begin their instructions, need not be fixed. If
a mother should not be so situated as to be able to procure the best
masters for her daughters whilst they are yet children, she need not
be in despair; a rapid progress is made in a short time by well
educated young people; those who have not acquired any bad habits, are
easily taught: it should, therefore, seem prudent, if the best masters
cannot be procured at any given period of education, to wait
patiently, than to hazard their first impressions, and the first
habits which might be given by any inferiour technical instruction. It
is said, that the celebrated musician Timotheus, whose excellence in
his art Alexander the conqueror of the world was forced to
acknowledge, when pupils flocked to him from all parts of the world,
had the prudence to demand double _entrance money_ from every scholar
who had had any other music master.
Besides the advantage of being entirely free from other bad habits,
children who are not taught by inferiour masters, will not contract
habits of listless application. Under the eye of an indolent person,
children seldom give their entire attention to what they are about.
They become mere machines, and, without using their own understanding
in the least, have recourse to the convenient master upon every
occasion. The utmost that children in such circumstances can learn, is
all the technical part of the art which the master can teach. When the
master is at last dismissed, and her education completed, the pupil is
left both fatigued and helpless. "Few have been taught to any purpose,
who have not been their own teachers," says Sir Joshua Reynolds. This
reflection upon the art of teaching, may, perhaps, be too general; but
those persons who look back upon their education, will, in many
respects, allow it to be just. They will perceive that they have been
too much taught, that they have learned every thing which they know as
an art, and nothing as a science. Few people have sufficient courage
to re-commence their own education, and for this reason few people get
beyond a certain point of mediocrity. It is easy to them to practise
the lessons which they have learned, if they practise them in
intellectual darkness; but if you let in upon them one ray of
philosophic light, you dazzle and confound them, so that they cannot
even perform their customary feats. A young man,[33] who had been
blind from his birth, had learned to draw a cross, a circle, and a
square, with great accuracy; when he was twenty, his eyes were
couched, and when he could see perfectly well, he was desired to draw
his circle and square. His new sense of seeing, so far from assisting
him in this operation, was extremely troublesome to him; though he
took more pains than usual, he performed very ill: confounded by the
new difficulty, he concluded that sight was useless in all operations
to be performed by the hand, and he thought his eyes would be of no
use to him in future. How many people find their reason as useless and
troublesome to them as this young man found his eye-sight!
Whilst we are learning any mechanical operation, or whilst we are
acquiring any technical art, the mind is commonly passive. In the
first attempts, perhaps, we reason or invent ways of abridging our own
labour, and the awkwardness of the unpractised hand is assisted by
ingenuity and reflection; but as we improve in manual dexterity,
attention and ingenuity are no longer exerted; we go on habitually
without thought.--Thought would probably interrupt the operation, and
break the chain of associated actions.[34] An artificer stops his hand
the moment you ask him to explain what he is about: he can work and
talk of indifferent objects; but if he reflects upon the manner in
which he performs certain slight of hand parts of his business, it is
ten to one but he cannot go on with them. A man, who writes a free
running hand, goes on without thinking of the manner in which he
writes; fix his attention upon the manner in which he holds his pen,
or forms his letters, and he probably will not write quite so fast, or
so well, as usual. When a girl first attempts to dress herself at a
glass, the glass perplexes, instead of assisting her, because she
thinks and reasons about every motion; but when by habit she has
learned how to move her hands in obedience to the _flugel_-image,[35]
which performs its exercise in the mirror, no further thought is
employed. Make the child observe that she moves her left hand forward
when the image in the glass moves in a contrary manner, turn the
child's attention to any of her own motions, and she will make
mistakes as she did before her habits were formed.
Many occupations, which are generally supposed to depend upon the
understanding, and which do probably depend in the first instance upon
the _understanding_, become by practice purely mechanical. This is the
case in many of the imitative arts. A person unused to drawing, exerts
a great deal of attention in copying any new object; but custom soon
supplies the place of thought. By custom,[36] as a great artist
assures us, he will become able to draw the human figure tolerably
correctly, with as little effort of the mind, as to trace with a pen
the letters of the alphabet.
We must further observe, that the habit of pursuing any occupation,
which requires no mental exertion, induces an indolence or incapacity
of intellect. Mere artists are commonly as stupid as mere artificers,
and these are little more than machines.
The length of time which is required to obtain practical skill and
dexterity in certain accomplishments, is one reason why there are so
few people who obtain any thing more than mechanical excellence. They
become the slaves of custom, and they become proud of their slavery.
At first they might have considered custom as a tyrant; but when they
have obeyed her for a certain time, they do her voluntary homage ever
after, as to a sovereign by divine right. To prevent this species of
intellectual degradation, we must in education be careful to rank mere
mechanical talents below the exercise of the mental powers. Thus the
ambition of young people will be directed to high objects, and all
inferiour qualifications may be attained without contracting the
understanding. Praise children for patience, for perseverance, for
industry; encourage them to reason and to invent upon all subjects,
and you may direct their attention afterwards as you think proper. But
if you applaud children merely for drawing a flower neatly, or copying
a landscape, without exciting their ambition to any thing higher, you
will never create superior talents, or a superior character. The
proficiency that is made in any particular accomplishment, at any
given age, should not be considered so much, even by those who highly
value accomplishments, as the power, the energy, that is excited in
the pupil's mind, from which future progress is ensured. The writing
and drawing automaton performs its advertised wonders to the
satisfaction of the spectators; but the machine is not "_instinct with
spirit_;" you cannot expect from its pencil the sketch of a Raphael,
or from its pen the thoughts of a Shakespeare. It is easy to guide the
hand, but who can transfuse a soul into the image?
It is not an uncommon thing to hear young people, who have been long
under the tuition of masters, complain of their own want of genius.
They are sensible that they have not made any great progress in any of
the accomplishments which they have endeavoured to learn; they see
others, who have not, perhaps, had what they call such _opportunities_
and _advantages_ in their education, suddenly surpass them; this they
attribute to natural genius, and they say to themselves in despair,
"Certainly I have no taste for drawing; I have no genius for music; I
have learned so many years, I have had so many lessons from the best
masters, and yet here is such and such a one, who has had no master,
who has taught herself, and, perhaps, did not begin till late in life,
has got before me, because she has a natural genius for these things.
She must have a natural taste for them, because she can sit whole
hours at these things for her own pleasure. Now I never would take a
pencil in my hand from my own choice; and I am glad, at all events,
that the time for lessons and masters is over. My education is
finished, for I am of age."
The disgust and despair, which are thus induced by an injudicious
education, absolutely defeat its own trivial purposes. So that,
whatever may be the views of parents, whether they consider ornamental
accomplishments as essential to their daughter's _success_ in the
world, or whether they value them rather as secondary objects,
subordinate to her happiness; whether they wish their daughter
actually to excel in any particular accomplishment, or to have the
power of excelling in any to which circumstances may direct her, it is
in all cases advisable to cultivate the general power of the pupil's
understanding, instead of confining her to technical practices and
precepts, under the eye of any master who does not possess that which
is the _soul_ of every art.
We do not mean any illiberal attack upon masters; but in writing upon
education, it is necessary to examine the utility of different modes
of instruction, without fear of offending _any class_ of men. We
acknowledge, that it is seldom found, that those who can communicate
their knowledge the best, _possess the most_, especially if this
knowledge be that of an artist or a linguist. Before any person is
properly qualified _to teach_, he must have the power of recollecting
exactly how _he learned_; he must go back step by step to the point at
which he began, and he must be able to conduct his pupil through the
same path without impatience or precipitation. He must not only have
acquired a knowledge of the process by which his own ideas and habits
were formed, but he must have extensive experience of the varieties of
the human mind. He must not suppose, that the operations of intellect
are carried on precisely in the same manner in all minds; he must not
imagine, that there is but one method of teaching, which will suit all
persons alike. The analogies which strike his own mind, the
arrangement of ideas, which to him appears the most perspicuous, to
his pupil may appear remote and confused. He must not attribute this
to his pupil's inattention, stupidity, or obstinacy; but he must
attribute it to the true causes; the different association of ideas in
different minds, the different habits of thinking, which arise from
their various tempers and previous education. He must be acquainted
with the habits of all tempers: the slow, the quick, the inventive,
the investigating; and he must adapt his instructions accordingly.
There is something more requisite: a master must not only know what he
professes to teach of his own peculiar art or science, but he ought to
know all its bearings and dependencies. He must be acquainted not only
with the local topography of his own district, but he must have the
whole map of human knowledge before him; and whilst he dwells most
upon his own province, he must yet be free from local prejudices, and
must consider himself as a citizen of the world. Children who study
geography in small separate maps, understand, perhaps, the view of
each country tolerably well; but we see them quite puzzled when they
are to connect these maps in their idea of the world. They do not know
the relative size or situation of England or France; they cannot find
London or Paris when they look for the first time upon the globe, and
every country seems to be turned upside down in their imagination.
Young people who learn particular arts and sciences from masters who
have confined their view to the boundaries of each, without having
given an enlarged idea of the whole, are much in the same situation
with these unfortunate geographers.
The persisting to teach things separately, which ought to be taught as
a whole, must prevent the progress of mental cultivation.[37] The
division and subdivision of different parts of education, which are
monopolised as trades by the masters who profess to teach them, must
tend to increase and perpetuate errour. These intellectual _casts_ are
pernicious.
It is said, that the Persians had masters to teach their children each
separate virtue: one master to teach justice, another fortitude,
another temperance, and so on. How these masters could preserve the
boundaries of their several moral territories, it is not easy to
imagine, especially if they all insisted upon independent sovereignty.
There must have been some danger, surely, of their disputing with one
another concerning the importance of their respective professions,
like the poor bourgeois gentilhomme's dancing-master, music-master,
master of morality, and master of philosophy, who all fell to blows to
settle their pretensions, forgetful of the presence of their pupil.
Masters, who are only expected to teach one thing, may be sincerely
anxious for the improvement of their pupils in that particular,
without being in the least interested for their general character or
happiness. Thus the drawing-master has done his part, and is satisfied
if he teaches his pupil to draw well: it is no concern of his what her
temper may be, any more than what sort of hand she writes, or how she
dances. The dancing-master, in his turn, is wholly indifferent about
the young lady's progress in drawing; all he undertakes, is to teach
her to dance.
We mention these circumstances to show parents, that masters, even
when they do the utmost that they engage to do, cannot educate their
children; they can only partially instruct them in particular arts.
Parents must themselves preside over the education of their children,
or must entirely give them into the care of some person of an enlarged
and philosophic mind, who can supply all the deficiencies of common
masters, and who can take advantage of all the positive good that can
be obtained from existing institutions. Such a preceptor or governess
must possess extensive knowledge, and that superiority of mind which
sees the just proportion and value of every acquisition, which is not
to be overawed by authority, or dazzled by fashion. Under the eye of
such persons, masters will keep precisely their proper places; they
will teach all they can teach, without instilling absurd prejudices,
or inspiring a spirit of vain rivalship; nor will masters be suffered
to continue their lessons when they have nothing more to teach.
Parents who do not think that they have leisure, or feel that they
have capacity, to take the entire direction of their children's
education upon themselves, will trust this important office to a
governess. The inquiry concerning the value of female accomplishments,
has been purposely entered into before we could speak of the choice of
a governess, because the estimation in which these are held, will very
much determine parents in their choice.
If what has been said of the probability of a decline in the public
taste for what are usually called accomplishments; of their little
utility to the happiness of families and individuals; of the waste of
time, and waste of the higher powers of the mind in acquiring them: if
what has been observed on any of these points is allowed to be just,
we shall have little difficulty in pursuing the same principles
further. In the choice of a governess we should not, then, consider
her fashionable accomplishments as her best recommendations; these
will be only secondary objects. We shall examine with more anxiety,
whether she possess a sound, discriminating, and enlarged
understanding: whether her mind be free from prejudice; whether she
has steadiness of temper to pursue her own plans; and, above all,
whether she has that species of integrity which will justify a parent
in trusting a child to her care. We shall attend to her conversation,
and observe her manners, with scrupulous minuteness. Children are
_imitative animals_, and they are peculiarly disposed to imitate the
language, manners, and gestures, of those with whom they live, and to
whom they look up with admiration. In female education, too much care
cannot be taken to form all those habits in morals and in manners,
which are distinguishing characteristics of amiable women. These
habits must be acquired early, or they will never appear easy or
graceful; they will necessarily be formed by those who see none but
good models.
We have already pointed out the absolute necessity of union amongst
all those who are concerned in a child's education. A governess must
either rule, or obey, decidedly. If she do not agree with the child's
parents in opinion, she must either know how to convince them by
argument, or she must with strict integrity conform her practice to
their theories. There are few parents, who will choose to give up the
entire care of their children to any governess; therefore, there will
probably be some points in which a difference of opinion will arise. A
sensible woman will never submit to be treated, as governesses are in
some families, like the servant who was asked by his master what
business he had to think: nor will a woman of sense or temper insist
upon her opinions without producing her reasons. She will thus ensure
the respect and the confidence of enlightened parents.
It is surely the interest of parents to treat the person who educates
their children, with that perfect equality and kindness, which will
conciliate her affection, and which will at the same time preserve her
influence and authority over her pupils. And it is with pleasure we
observe, that the style of behaviour to governesses, in well bred
families, is much changed within these few years. A governess is no
longer treated as an upper servant, or as an intermediate being
between a servant and a gentlewoman: she is now treated as the friend
and companion of the family, and she must, consequently, have warm and
permanent interest in its prosperity: she becomes attached to her
pupils from gratitude to their parents, from sympathy, from
generosity, as well as from the strict sense of duty.
In fashionable life there is, however, some danger that parents should
go into extremes in their behaviour towards their governesses. Those
who disdain the idea of assuming superiority of rank and fortune, and
who desire to treat the person who educates their children as their
equal, act with perfect propriety; but if they make her their
companion in all their amusements, they go a step too far, and they
defeat their own purposes. If a governess attends the card-table, and
the assembly-room; if she is to visit, and be visited, what is to
become of her pupils in her absence? They must be left to the care of
servants. There are some ladies who will not accept of any invitation,
in which the governess of their children is not included. This may be
done from a good motive, but, surely, it is unreasonable; for the very
use of a governess is to supply the mother's place in her absence.
Cannot this be managed better? Cannot the mother and governess both
amuse themselves at different times? There would then be perfect
equality; the governess would be in the same society, and would be
treated with the same respect, without neglecting her duty. The reward
which is given to women of abilities, and of unblemished reputation,
who devote themselves to the superintendence of the education of young
ladies in the higher ranks of life, the daughters of our affluent
nobility, ought to be considerably greater than what it is at present:
it ought to be such as to excite women to cultivate their talents, and
their understandings, with a view to this profession. A profession we
call it, for it should be considered as such, as an honourable
profession, which a gentlewoman might follow without losing any degree
of the estimation in which she is held by what is called _the world_.
There is no employment, at present, by which a gentlewoman can
maintain herself, without losing something of that respect, something
of that rank in society, which neither female fortitude nor male
philosophy willingly foregoes. The liberal professions are open to men
of small fortunes; by presenting one similar resource to women, we
should give a strong motive for their moral and intellectual
improvement.
Nor does it seem probable, that they should make a disgraceful or
imprudent use of their increasing influence and liberty in this case,
because their previous education must previously prepare them
properly. The misfortune of women has usually been, to have power
trusted to them before they were educated to use it prudently. To say
that preceptresses in the higher ranks of life should be liberally
rewarded, is but a vague expression; something specific should be
mentioned, wherever general utility is the object. Let us observe,
that many of the first dignities of the church are bestowed, and
properly bestowed, upon men who have educated the highest ranks of our
nobility. Those who look with an evil eye upon these promotions, do
not fairly estimate the _national_ importance of education for the
rich and powerful. No provision can be made for women who direct the
education of the daughters of our nobility, any ways equivalent to the
provision made for preceptors by those who have influence in the
state. A pecuniary compensation is in the power of opulent families.
Three hundred a year, for twelve or fourteen years, the space of time
which a preceptress must probably employ in the education of a young
lady, would be a suitable compensation for her care. With this
provision she would be enabled, after her pupil's education was
completed, either to settle in her own family, or she would, in the
decline of life, be happily independent, secure from the temptation of
marrying for money. If a few munificent and enlightened individuals
set the example of liberally rewarding merit in this situation, many
young women will probably appear with talents and good qualities
suited to the views of the most sanguine parents. With good sense, and
literary tastes, a young woman might instruct herself during the first
years of her pupils childhood, and might gradually prepare herself
with all the necessary knowledge: according to the principles that
have been suggested, there would be no necessity for her being a
_mistress of arts_, a performer in music, a paintress, a linguist, or
a poetess. A general knowledge of literature is indispensable; and yet
further, she must have sufficient taste and judgment to direct the
literary talents of her pupils.
With respect to the literary education of the female sex, the
arguments on both sides of the question have already been stated, with
all the impartiality in our power, in another place.[38] Without
obtruding a detail of the same arguments again upon the public, it
will be sufficient to profess the distinct opinion, which a longer
consideration of the subject has yet more fully confirmed, that it
will tend to the happiness of society in general, that women should
have their understandings cultivated and enlarged as much as possible;
that the happiness of domestic life, the virtues and the powers of
pleasing in the female sex, the yet more desirable power of attaching
those worthy of their love and esteem, will be increased by the
judicious cultivation of the female understanding, more than by all
that modern gallantry or ancient chivalry could devise in favour of
the sex. Much prudence and ability are requisite to conduct properly a
young woman's literary education. Her imagination must not be raised
above the taste for necessary occupations, or the numerous small, but
not trifling, pleasures of domestic life: her mind must be enlarged,
yet the delicacy of her manners must be preserved: her knowledge must
be various, and her powers of reasoning unawed by authority; yet she
must _habitually_ feel that nice sense of propriety, which is at once
the guard and the charm of every feminine virtue. By early caution,
unremitting, scrupulous caution in the choice of the books which are
put into the hands of girls, a mother, or a preceptress, may fully
occupy and entertain their pupils, and excite in their minds a _taste_
for propriety, as well as a taste for literature. It cannot be
necessary to add more than this general idea, that a mother ought to
be answerable to her daughter's husband for the books her daughter had
read, as well as for the company she had kept.
Those observations, which apply equally to the cultivation of the
understanding both of men and of women, we do not here mean to point
out; we would speak only of what may be peculiar to female education.
From the study of the learned languages, women, by custom,
fortunately for them, are exempted: of ancient literature they may, in
translations which are acknowledged to be excellent, obtain a
sufficient knowledge, without paying too much time and labour for this
classic pleasure. Confused notions from fashionable publications, from
periodical papers, and comedies, have made their way into common
conversation, and thence have assumed an appearance of authority, and
have been extremely disadvantageous to female education. Sentiment and
ridicule have conspired to represent reason, knowledge, and science,
as unsuitable or dangerous to women; yet at the same time wit, and
superficial acquirements in literature, have been the object of
admiration in society; so that this dangerous inference has been
drawn, almost without our perceiving its fallacy, that superficial
knowledge is more desirable in women than accurate knowledge. This
principle must lead to innumerable errours; it must produce continual
contradictions in the course of education: instead of making women
more reasonable, and less presuming, it will render them at once
arrogant and ignorant; full of pretensions, incapable of application,
and unfit to hear themselves convinced. Whatever young women learn,
let them be taught accurately; let them know ever so little
apparently, they will know much if they have learnt that little
_well_. A girl who runs through a course of natural history, hears
something about chemistry, has been taught something of botany, and
who knows but just enough of these to make her fancy that she is well
informed, is in a miserable situation, in danger of becoming
ridiculous, and insupportably tiresome to men of sense and science.
But let a woman know any one thing completely, and she will have
sufficient understanding to learn more, and to apply what she has been
taught so as to interest men of generosity and genius in her favour.
The knowledge of the general principles of any science, is very
different from superficial knowledge of the science; perhaps, from not
attending to this distinction, or from not understanding it, many
have failed in female education. Some attempt will be made to mark
this distinction practically, when we come to speak of the cultivation
of the memory, invention, and judgment. No intelligent preceptress
will, it is hoped, find any difficulty in the application of the
observations they may meet with in the chapters on imagination,
sympathy and sensibility, vanity and temper. The masculine pronoun
_he_, has been used for grammatical convenience, not at all because we
agree with the prejudiced, and uncourteous grammarian, who asserts,
"that the masculine is the more worthy gender."
FOOTNOTES:
[32] Une virtuose.
[33] V. Storia di quattro fratelli nati ciechi e guariti coll'
estrazione delle cateratte.--Di Francesco Buzzi.
[34] V. Zoonomia.
[35] This word is sometimes by mistake spelt _fugal_-man.
[36] Sir Joshua Reynolds.
[37] Condillac.
[38] V. Letters for Literary Ladies.