ON THE METHODS BY WHICH THE EDUCATIONAL PROCESSES OF NATURE MAY BE
SUCCESSFULLY IMITATED.
CHAP. I.
_On the Exercises by which Nature may be imitated in cultivating the
Powers of the Mind._
In the educational processes of Nature, her first object appears to be
the cultivation of her pupil's mind; and this, therefore, ought also to
be the first concern of the parent and teacher.--The wisdom of this
arrangement is obvious. For as success in a great measure depends upon
the vigour and extent of those powers, their early cultivation will
render the succeeding exercises easy and pleasant, and will greatly
abridge the anxiety and labour of both teacher and scholar.
There is no doubt a great diversity in the natural capacities of
children; and phrenology, as well as daily experience shews, that
children who are apt in learning one thing, may be exceedingly dull and
backward in acquiring others. But after making every allowance for this
variety in the intellectual powers of children, it is well established
by experience, and repeated experiments have confirmed the fact,[9] that
the very dullest and most obtuse of the children found in any of our
schools, are really capable of rapid cultivation, and may, by the use of
proper means, be very soon brought to bear their part in the usual
exercises fitted for the ordinary children. A large proportion of the
dulness so frequently complained of by teachers arises, not so much from
any natural defect, or inherent mental weakness in the child, as from
the want of that early mental exercise,--real mental culture,--of which
we are here speaking. Whenever this dulness in a sane scholar continues
for any length of time, there is good reason to fear that it is owing to
some palpable mismanagement on the part of the parent or teacher. On
examination it will most likely be found, either that the pupil has had
exercises prescribed to him which the powers of his mind were as yet
incapable of accomplishing; or, if the exercises themselves have been
suitable, there has been more prescribed than he was able to overtake.
In either case the effect will be the same. The mind has been
unnaturally burdened, or overstretched; confusion of ideas and mental
weakness have been the consequence; and if so, the very attempt to keep
up with his companions in the class only tends to aggravate the evil.
Hence arises the propriety of following Nature in making the expansion
and cultivation of the powers of the mind our first object; and our
design in the present chapter is to examine into the means by which, in
the exercises of the school, she may be successfully imitated in the
operations which she employs for this purpose.
We have in our previous investigations seen, that the cultivation of the
mental powers is a work of extraordinary simplicity, depending entirely
upon one act of the mind,--the reiteration of ideas. We have proved, by
a variety of familiar instances, that wherever this act takes place, the
mind is, and must be exercised, and so far strengthened; while, on the
contrary, wherever it does not take place, there is neither mental
exercise, nor any perceptible accession of mental strength. It does not
depend upon the particular form of the exercise, whether it consists of
reading, hearing, writing, or speaking; but simply and entirely upon
the reality and the frequency of the reiteration of the included ideas
during it. This makes the cultivation and strengthening of the powers of
the mind a very simple and a very certain operation. For if the teacher
can succeed by any means in producing frequent and successive
repetitions of _this act_ of the mind in any of his pupils, Nature will
be true to her own law, and mental culture, and mental strength will
assuredly follow;--but, on the contrary, whenever in a school exercise
this act is awanting, there can be no permanent progression in the
education of the pupil, and no amelioration in the state of his mind.
The mechanical reading or repeating of words, for example, like the
fingering of musical instruments, may be performed for months or years
successively, without the powers of the mind being actively engaged in
the process at all; leaving the child without mental exercise, and
consequently without improvement.
In following out the only legitimate plan for the accomplishment of this
fundamental object, that of imitating Nature, the first thing required
by the teacher is an exercise, or series of exercises, by which he shall
be able _at his own will_ to enforce upon his pupils this important act
of the mind. If this object can be successfully attained, then the
proper means for the intellectual improvement of the child are secured;
but as long as it is awanting, his mental cultivation is either left to
chance, or to the capricious decision of his own will;--for experience
shews, that although a child may be compelled to read, or to repeat the
_words_ of his exercises, they contain no power by which the teacher can
ensure the reiteration of the _ideas_ they contain. The words may
correctly and fluently pass from the tongue, while the mind is actively
engaged upon something else, and as much beyond the reach of the teacher
as ever. But if the desiderated exercise could be procured, the power of
enforcing mental activity upon a prescribed subject would then remain,
not in the possession of the child, but would be transferred to the
teacher, at whose pleasure the mental cultivation of the pupil would
proceed, whether he himself willed it or no.
In the "catechetical exercise," as it has been called, and which has of
late years been extensively used by our best teachers, the desideratum
above described has been most happily and effectively supplied to the
Educationist. This valuable exercise may not perhaps be new;--but
certainly its nature, and its importance in education, till of late
years, has been altogether overlooked, or unknown. It differs from the
former mode of catechising, (or rather of using catechisms) in this,
that whereas a catechism provides an answer for the child in a set form
of words,--the catechetical exercise, having first _provided him with
the means_, compels him to search for, to select, and to construct an
answer for himself. For example, an announcement is given by his
teacher, or it is read from his book. This is the raw material upon
which both the teacher and the child are to work, and within the
boundaries of which the teacher especially must strictly confine
himself. Upon this announcement a question is founded,[10] which obliges
the child, before he can even prepare an answer, to reiterate in his own
mind, not the _words_,--for that would not answer his purpose,--but the
several _ideas_ contained in the sentence or truth announced. All these
ideas must be perceived,--they must pass in review before the mind,--and
from among them he must select the one required, arrange it in his own
way, and give it to the teacher entirely as his own idea, and clothed
altogether in his own words.
In the common method of making use of catechisms, the words of the
answer may be read, or they may be committed to memory, and may be
repeated with ease and fluency; while the ideas,--the truths they
contain,--may neither be perceived nor reiterated. In this there is
neither mental exercise, nor mental improvement;--and, what is worse,
without the catechetical exercise, the teacher has no means of knowing
whether it be so or not. By means of the catechetical exercise, on the
contrary, there can be no evasion,--no doubt as to the mental activity
of the pupil, and his consequent mental improvement. Its benefits are
very extensive; and in employing it the teacher is not only sure that
the ideas in the announcement have been perceived and reiterated, but
that a numerous train of useful mental operations must have taken place,
before his pupil could by any possibility return him an answer to his
questions. We shall, before proceeding, point out a few of these.
Let us then suppose that a child either reads, or repeats as the answer
to a question, the words, "Jesus died for sinners."--At this point in
the former mode of using a catechism, the exercise of the pupil stopped;
and the parent or teacher understanding the meaning of the sentence, and
clearly perceiving the ideas himself, usually took it for granted that
the child also did so, or at least at some future time would do so. This
was mere conjecture; and he had no means of ascertaining its certainty,
however important. It is at this point that the catechetical exercise
commences its operations. When the child has repeated the words, or when
the teacher for the first time announces them, the mind of the child may
be in a state very unfavourable to its improvement; but as soon as the
teacher asks him a question founded upon one or more of the ideas which
the announcement contains, and which he must answer without farther
help, the state of his mind is instantly and materially changed.
Hitherto he may have been altogether passive on the subject;--nay, his
mind while reading or repeating the words, may have been busily engaged
on something else, or altogether occupied with his companions or his
play;--but as soon as the teacher asks him "Who died?" there is an
instant withdrawal of the mind from every thing else, and an exclusive
concentration of its powers upon the ideas in the announcement. He must
think,--and he must think in a certain way, and upon the specific ideas
presented to him by the teacher,--before it is possible for him to
return an answer. It is on this account that this exercise is so
effective an instrument in cultivating the powers of the mind;--and it
is to the long series of exercises which take place in this operation,
that we are now calling the attention of the reader, that he may
perceive how closely this exercise follows in the line prescribed by
Nature, in creating occasions for the successive reiteration of
different ideas suggested by one question.
When, in pursuing the catechetical exercise, a question is asked from an
announcement, there is first a call upon the attention, and an exercise
of mind upon the _question_ asked, the words of which must be translated
by the pupil into their proper ideas, which accordingly he must both
perceive and understand. He has then to revert to the _ideas_ (not the
words) contained in the original announcement, the words of which are
perhaps still ringing in his ears; and these he must also perceive and
reiterate in his mind, before he can either understand them or prepare
to give an answer. At this point the child is necessarily in possession
of the ideas--the truths--conveyed by the announcement; and therefore at
this point one great end of the teacher has in so far been gained. But
the full benefit of the exercise, in so far as it is capable of fixing
these truths still more permanently on the memory, and of disciplining
the mind, has not yet been exhausted. After the pupil has reiterated in
his mind the ideas contained in the original sentence, or passage
announced, he has again to revert to the question of the teacher, and
compare it with the several ideas which the announcement contains. He
has then to chuse from among them,--all of them being still held in
review by the mind,--the particular idea to which his attention has been
called by the question;--and last of all, and which is by no means the
least as a mental exercise, he has to clothe this particular idea in
words, and construct his sentence in such a way as to make it both sense
and grammar. In this last effort, it is worthy of remark, children,
after having been but a short while subjected to this exercise, almost
invariably succeed, although they know nothing about grammar, and may
perhaps never have heard of the name.
But even this is not all. There has as yet been only one question asked,
and the answer to this question refers to only one idea contained in the
announcement. But it embraces at least three several ideas; and each of
these ideas, by the catechetical exercise, is capable of originating
other questions, perfectly distinct from each other, and each of which
gives rise to a similar mental process, and with equally beneficial
results, in exercising and strengthening the powers of the mind.
It is also here of importance to take notice of the additional benefits
that arise from the multiplying of questions upon one announcement. The
first question proposed from the announcement, brought the mind of the
child into immediate contact with all the ideas which it contained. They
are now therefore familiar to him; and he is perfectly prepared for the
second, and for every succeeding question formed upon it; and he
fashions the answers with readiness and zest. Every such answer is a
kind of triumph to the child, which he gives with ease and pleasure, and
yet every one of them, as an exercise of the mind, is equally beneficial
as the first. When the teacher therefore asks, "What did Jesus do?" and
afterwards, "For whom did Jesus die?" a little reflection will at once
shew, that a similar mental exercise must take place at each question,
in which the child has not only to reiterate the several original
ideas, but must again and again compare the questions asked, with each
one of them, choose out the one required, clothe it in his own language,
and in this form repeat it audibly to his teacher.
Before leaving this enquiry into the nature and effects of the
catechetical exercise, there are two circumstances connected with it as
a school-engine, which deserve particular attention. The first is, that
Nature has made this same reiteration of ideas, for the securing of
which this exercise is used, the chief means of conveying knowledge to
the mind; and the second is, the undissembled delight which children
exhibit while under its influence, wherever it is naturally and
judiciously conducted. With respect to the former of these
circumstances, it falls more particularly to be considered in another
chapter, and under a following head; but with respect to the
latter,--the delight felt in the exercise by the children
themselves,--it deserves here a more close examination.
Every one who has paid any attention to the subject must have observed
the life, the energy, the enjoyment, which are observable in a class of
children, while they are under the influence, and subjected to the
discipline of the catechetical exercise. This will perhaps be still more
remarkable, if ever they have had an opportunity of contrasting this
lively scene with the death-like monotony of a school where the exercise
is as yet unknown. Many can yet remember instances when it was first
introduced into some of the Sabbath schools in Scotland, and the
astonishment of the teachers at its instantaneous effects upon the mind
and conduct of their children. The whole aspect of the school was
changed; and the children, who had but a few minutes before been
conspicuous only for their apathy, restlessness, or inattention, were
instantly aroused to life, and energy, and delight. Similar effects in
some children are still witnessed; but, happily for education, the
first exhibition of it to a whole school is not so common. One striking
proof of the novelty and extent of its effects upon the pupils, and of
the vivid contrast it produced with that to which the teachers had at
that time been accustomed, is afforded by the fact, that serious
objections were sometimes made to its introduction, by well-meaning
individuals, on account of its breaking in, as they said, upon the
proper devotional solemnity of the children;--as if the apathy of
languor and weariness was identical with reverence, and mental energy
and joyous feelings were incompatible with the liveliest devotion. These
opinions have now happily disappeared; and the catechetical exercise is
not now, on that account, so frequently opposed. Christians now
perceive, that by making these rough places smooth, and the crooked ways
straight for the tottering feet of the lambs of the flock, they are
following the best, as it is the appointed means, of "making ready a
people prepared for the Lord."
To the teacher, especially, it must be a matter of great practical
importance, to perceive clearly the cause why this exercise is so
fascinating to the young, as well as so beneficial in education. The
cause, when we analyze all the circumstances, is simply this, that it
resembles, in all its leading characteristics, those amusements and
pastimes of which children are so fond. In other words, the prosecution
of the catechetical exercise with the young, produces in reality the
same effects as a game would do if played with their teacher. It brings
into action, and it keeps in lively operation, all those mental
elements, which, in ordinary cases, constitute their play; and the
effects of course are nearly similar. We shall direct the reader's
attention to this curious fact for a moment.
It is easy to perceive, that the pleasure and happiness experienced by a
child during his play, arise altogether from the _state of his mind_, to
which the physical exercises and amusements only conduce. When this
mental satisfaction is examined, we find it to consist chiefly of two
elements,--that of active thought, and that of self-approbation. The
first,--that of active thought, or the reiteration of ideas, we have
before pointed out and explained, as it is illustrated in their play,
and in the pleasure they take in hearing stories, reading riddles,
dressing dolls, and similar acts; and it is only here necessary to add,
that their desire of congregating together for amusement has its origin
in a similar cause. New ideas stimulate more powerfully to active
thought; and children soon find, and insensibly draw the lesson, that
the aggregate of new ideas is always enlarged by an increase of the
number of persons who supply them. Two children will play with the same
number of toys for a longer time, without tiring, than if they were
alone;--and three or four would, in the same proportion, increase the
interest and prolong the season of activity. But as soon as the
reiteration of the ideas suggested by their game becomes languid or
difficult, their play for the time loses its charms, and the fascination
is gone. That it is the cessation of active thought, which is the chief
cause of their play ceasing to please, is proved from the circumstance,
that if another interesting companion shall be added to their number, or
if any thing shall occur to renew this operation,--the reiteration of
ideas,--upon the mind, the same degree of interest, and to a
corresponding extent, is immediately felt, and the play is resumed. Now,
the catechetical exercise is in reality the same operation in another
form. The questions of the teacher excite the pupil to the same kind of
active thought as that which gives relish to his play; and, while the
teacher confines himself within the limits of the announcement, the
mental excitement is active, but moderate, and always successful.
This leads us to observe the influence which the catechetical exercise
exerts in affording means for that self-approbation, or sense of merit,
which constitutes another element of delight to a child during his play.
All must have observed the beneficial effects of this principle in
children, as an incitement to emulation and good conduct. It is not only
perceptible in the love of approbation from their superiors, but in
their desire to excel at all times. We see it in the pleasure felt by
the child when he outstrips his fellows in the race,--when he catches
his companion at "hide and seek,"--when he finds the hidden article at
"seek and find,"--in winning a game, expounding a riddle, or gaining a
place in his class. In all these instances there is a feeling of pure
satisfaction and delight;--a feeling of self-estimation, which is at
once the guardian and the reward of virtue. Now, when the catechetical
exercise is conducted in its purity,--that is, when the teacher keeps
strictly to the announcement, without wandering where the child cannot
follow him,--the answers are invariably within the limits of the child's
capacity;--they are answered successfully; and every answer is a subject
of triumph. He has a delightful consciousness of having overcome a
difficulty, deserved approbation, and made an advance in the pathway of
merit. When properly conducted, therefore, the catechetical exercise
becomes to the pupils a succession of victories; and it imparts all that
delight, softened and purified, which he experiences in excelling his
companion, or in winning a game.--These are the reasons why the
catechetical exercise is so much relished by the young, and why it has
succeeded so powerfully, not only in smoothing the pathway of education,
but also in shortening it.
From a careful consideration of all these circumstances, we are led to
conclude, that the catechetical exercise does, in a superior degree,
fulfil all the stipulations required for imitating Nature, in exciting
to the reiteration of ideas by children, and thus disciplining and
cultivating the powers of their minds. We might also have remarked,
that another advantage arising from persevering in this exercise, is the
arresting of the attention of the children, and successfully training
them to hear and understand through life the oral communications of
others;--but we hasten to consider the time and the order in which this
exercise should be made use of in schools.
Nature intends, that the cultivation and strengthening of the powers of
the mind shall in every case precede those exercises in which their
strength is to be tried. In infants and young children we perceive this
cultivation and invigorating of the mind going on, long before these
powers are to be taxed even for their own preservation. The child is no
doubt putting them to use; but in every such case it is voluntary, and
not compulsory,--a matter of choice on the part of the child, and not of
necessity. The infant, or even the child, is never required to take care
of itself, to clothe itself, to wash itself, or even to feed itself. To
require it to do so before the mind could comprehend the nature and the
design of the particular duty, would be both unreasonable and cruel.
This being the case, the exercises of the nursery and the school must be
regulated in a similar manner, and follow the same law. The due
cultivation of the mind, like the due preparation of the soil, must
always precede the sowing of the seed. If this principle in Nature be
duly attended to, the seeds of knowledge afterwards cast into the soil
thus broken up and prepared, will be readily received and nourished to
perfection; but if the soil be neglected, both the seed and the labour
will be lost, the anticipations of the spring and summer will end in
delusion, and the folly of the whole proceeding will be shewn by a
succession of noxious weeds, and at last by an unproductive harvest.
The evils which must necessarily result from thus running counter to
Nature in this first part of her educational proceedings, may be aptly
illustrated by the very common custom of beginning a child's education
by teaching it to read. It would perhaps be difficult to convince many
that this custom is either unnatural or improper. We shall not attempt
here to _argue_ the matter, but shall merely state a fact which they
cannot deny, and which will answer the purpose we think much better than
an argument.--To teach the art of reading was wont to require the labour
of several months, sometimes years, before the perusal of a book could
be managed by the child with any degree of ease,--and even then, without
any thing approaching to satisfaction or pleasure. And even yet,
although the error has in some measure been perceived of late years, yet
the art of reading by the young, still requires several months'
attendance at school, with corresponding labour to the teacher, and
great irritation and unhappiness to the child. But experience has
established the fact, that, by acting on the principle of previous
preparation which we are here enforcing, and by calling into operation
the principle of individuation formerly explained, the whole drudgery of
teaching a child to read is got over in a week,--sometimes in a day; and
this with much more ease and satisfaction, than could have been done by
a thousand lessons while his mind was unprepared.[11]
The accumulation of labour, and the loss of precious time by this
non-observance of the dictates of Nature, are in themselves serious
evils; but they are not by any means so great as some others which
almost invariably accompany this unnatural mode of proceeding with the
young. Many who have nominally been _taught to read_, are still quite
unable to _understand by reading_. Those who have heard chapters read by
families in the country, "verse about," will at once understand what we
here mean; and even in towns and cities where newspapers and low-priced
books are more numerous and more tempting, it often requires long
practice before the emancipated child can read these publications so
readily and intelligently as they are intended to be. It is another, and
an entirely different course of learning to which he subjects himself,
when he labours to acquire the capacity of understanding the words that
he _reads_, as readily as the words that he _hears_. Where the
inducements to this are sufficiently powerful, the ability is no doubt
_at last_ acquired;--but where these stimulants are awanting, the
difficulty of understanding by reading has by the previous habit become
so great, that reading is gradually disused, and at last forgotten.
Many are at a loss to account for this; but it is easily explained on
the above principles. To teach a child to read, before his mind is
capable of understanding, or of reiterating the ideas conveyed by the
words he is reading, is to train him to this habit of reading
mechanically;--that is, of reading without understanding. He gradually
acquires the habit of pronouncing the words which he traces with the
eye, while the mind is busily engaged upon something else; in the same
manner that a person acquires the habit of thinking, and even of
speaking, while knitting a stocking, or sewing a seam. This habit is
confirmed by constant practice; and then, the difficulty of getting off
the habit is all but insurmountable. This difficulty will be best
understood by the experience of those who have been during some time of
their life compelled to abandon a habit after it was thoroughly
confirmed;--or by those who will but try the difficulty of persevering
to do something with the left hand, which has hitherto been done with
the right. A very little consideration will shew, that when this habit
of reading mechanically has once been established, it will require, like
an improper mode of holding the pen in writing, ten-fold more labour and
self-denial to _remedy_ the evil, than it would have taken at first to
_prevent_ it, by learning to do the thing properly and perfectly.
Much therefore depends upon the early and persevering use of the
catechetical exercise for cultivating a child's mind, before beginning
to teach it the art of reading, or requiring it to make use of the
powers of the mind on subjects which these powers are as yet incapable
of comprehending. By proper _preliminary_ exercises, the powers of the
mind will be gradually expanded; ideas of every different kind, both
individually and in connection with each other, will become familiar;
the design of language in receiving and communicating truth will by
degrees be practically understood; and, by means of the catechetical
exercise, it will be gradually and successfully practised. These are
obviously the means by which the present crooked ways in the child's
early progress in education are to be made straight, and the rough and
difficult paths which he has had so long to tread, may now be made both
easy and smooth.[12]
The effects of the catechetical exercise, and its uniform beneficial
results, have given sufficient evidence of its being a close imitation
of Nature in this part of her educational process. Its success indeed
has been invariable, even when employed by those who remained
unconscious of the great principles by which that success was to be
regulated. The observations and experiments employed to ascertain in
some measure the extent of its efficiency, have uniformly been
satisfactory, and to a few of these we shall here very shortly advert.
The first case of importance, which came under our notice, and to which
we think it advisable to allude, is that of Mary L. who, about the year
1820, resided in Lady Yester's parish in Edinburgh. This girl, when her
name was taken up for the Local Sabbath Schools in that parish, was
about seven or eight years of age, and in respect to mental capacity,
appeared to be little better than an idiot. She could not comprehend the
most simple idea, if it related to any thing beyond the household
objects which were daily forced upon her observation, and which had
individually become familiar to the senses; and was unable to receive
any instruction with the other children, however young. The catechetical
exercise was adopted with her, as with the other scholars; and although,
for a long period, she was unable to _collect knowledge_, yet the
constant discipline to which the powers of the mind were thus subjected,
had the happiest effect in bringing them into tone, and at last giving
her the command of them. The comprehending of a simple truth when
announced, became more and more distinct, and the answering of the
corresponding questions, became gradually more correct and easy. At a
very early period she began to relish the exercises of the school; and
although these occurred only on the Sundays, she continued rapidly to
improve; till, in the course of a few years, she was able to join the
higher classes of the children, and made a respectable appearance among
her companions, at those times when they were submitted to
examination.--When these schools were broken up, no stranger could have
remarked any difference between Mary L. and an ordinary child of the
same age.
A similar instance occurred more recently in the case of two sisters,
(Margaret and Mary J.) the condition of whose minds originally was
better, although not much, than that of Mary L. At the respective ages
of six and eight years, these sisters could scarcely receive or
comprehend the simplest idea not connected with their daily ordinary
affairs. For some years they had no more teaching, or regular mental
exercise, than two hours weekly on the Sundays, and during that period
they were, in regard to mental capacity, advancing, but still nearly
alike. The eldest (Margaret,) was then removed to another class, the
teacher of which dedicated another evening during the week for the
benefit of her scholars. The consequence of this apparently slight
addition to the mental exercise of this girl soon became apparent; and
in the course of a short time, the powers of Margaret's mind not only
advanced beyond those of her sister's, but equalled at least those of
children of the same age, who had not enjoyed similar opportunities of
improvement. Her sister Mary, who continued to enjoy only the two hours
on Sunday, advanced proportionally in mental strength;--and before she
left the district in which the school was situated, her original
incapacity could scarcely have been credited by a stranger. In proof of
this, it may be added, that long after she had left the parish, the
writer found her by accident in the school which she attended after
removing, examined her with the other children, and made some strict and
searching enquiries concerning her. The report of her teacher was
exceedingly satisfactory; and, without knowing the reason of these
enquiries, declared, that Mary J. was one of her best scholars. Before
leaving this notice of these two children, there is a circumstance which
may perhaps be worthy of recording. In Margaret's countenance there had
gradually appeared, latterly, that which to a stranger gave all the
ordinary indications of intellect, and rather superior intelligence;
while in Mary's case, at the same period, there continued to be much of
that vacancy of look, and stupid stare, indicative rather of what she
was, than of what she had become. That also, however, was gradually
disappearing.
We shall advert only to one other instance, less remarkable perhaps, and
certainly not so decisive, on account of the shortness of the time
during which the experiment was continued. In the opinion of the
honourable and venerable examinators, however, it was considered as
sufficiently decisive, and of much public importance. Its application to
prison discipline may ultimately be of value, where prisoners are
confined but for short periods, and where the cultivation of the mind,
and the growing capacity to receive and retain religious truth are
objects of importance.
In the experiment in 1828, made before the Lord Provost, Principal,
Professors, and Clergymen of Edinburgh, in the County Jail, a class of
criminals which had been formed three weeks before, and exercised one
hour daily, were thoroughly and individually examined without
intermission during nearly three hours. Our present extract from the
Report of that Experiment refers, not to the amount of knowledge
acquired by these persons during these three weeks, but to the capacity
which, at the end of that time, they were found to possess of acquiring
every sort of knowledge. This experiment was so far imperfect, as the
Examinators had no means of ascertaining the true state of their minds,
previous to the commencement of their exercises. But having, upon
enquiry found from the governor of the prison, that there had been no
selection, that all the individuals in the ward had been taken, and that
at the commencement of the experiment, they formed a fair sample of the
prisoners commonly under his charge,--the progress of this mental
cultivation during that short period, became a special object of
examination by the Reverend and learned individuals who conducted it.
Their Report of the Experiment bears, that "these individuals had been
taken without any regard to their abilities, and former acquirements,
and formed a fair average of the usual prisoners." In endeavouring to
ascertain the grasp of mind which these individuals possessed, and the
readiness with which they received and retained whatever was, even for
the first time, communicated to them, "it was mentioned, that a
gentlemen on the previous day, in order to try the capacity of mind
which they had attained, desired Mr Gall to catechise them upon a
section, consisting of fourteen verses, which they had not seen before,
and that, after just ten minutes' examination, one woman, who could not
read, repeated the whole distinctly in her own words. Dr Brunton
proposed, for a similar experiment, the parable of the 'talents,' with
which none was acquainted except one woman, who was consequently not
permitted to answer. With its being only read to them, and with a few
minutes' catechising, they perceived its various circumstances, and were
able to enumerate them in detail. This exercise demonstrated the
capacity of attention, and the power of analyzing and laying hold of
circumstances, which they had reached, as well as the indisputable
superiority of this System, in unfolding and strengthening the mental
faculties, even in adults."
"The writer of the Report," it is added, "was not acquainted with the
extent of their acquirements when Mr Gall commenced his operations; but
judging from the examination, and from his knowledge of the contents of
the books taught, he has no hesitation in averring, that the answers
which they gave, arose entirely from information communicated by them.
And when he reflects that their answers, being clothed in their own
words, guaranteed the fact, that it was _the ideas_ upon which they had
seized, and that their knowledge participated in no degree of rote, the
conviction to his mind is irresistible, that the universal application
of the Lesson System to Prison Discipline, and to adults everywhere,
would be followed by effects, incalculably precious to the individuals
themselves, and to the improving of society in general."
Numerous other instances might be adduced in proof of the efficiency of
this method of attempting to imitate Nature in this first part of her
educational process, who will always be faithful in adhering to her own
laws, and countenancing her own work. These however may suffice;--and it
ought not to escape observation, that in two of the cases first alluded
to, the young persons enjoyed only two hours' instruction in the week,
and these not divided, but continuously given at one time. For this
reason, it might have been feared, that the benefits then received would
have been lost, or neutralized, by the variety of objects or amusements
which must have intervened during the week between the lessons. But it
was not so. And we may here remark, that if with all these
disadvantages, so much good was really done in cultivating the powers of
the mind by this exercise, what may we not expect by the enlightened,
regular, and daily application of the same powerful principles in our
ordinary schools, when the teacher shall know where the virtue of the
weapon which he wields really lies, and when the nature of the material
he is called to work upon is also better understood. Every exercise and
every operation in the school will then be made to "tell;" and every
moment of the pupils' attendance will be improved. In these
circumstances, we are far within the limits of the truth when we say,
that more real substantial education will then be communicated in one
month, than it has been usual to receive by the labours of a whole year.
From what has been already ascertained, we are fully warranted in making
the following remarks.
1. From the above facts we can readily ascertain the cause, why some
exercises employed in education are so much relished by the young, and
so efficient in giving strength and elasticity to the mind; while
others, on the contrary are so inefficient, so irksome, and sometimes so
intolerable. Every exercise that tends to produce active thought,--the
"reiteration of ideas,"--is natural, and therefore, not only promotes
healthful mental vigour, but is also exciting and delightful; while, on
the contrary, whenever the mind is fettered by the mere decyphering of
words, or the repeating of sounds, without reiterating ideas, the
exercise is altogether unnatural, and must of course be irritating to
the child, and barren of good.
2. By a due consideration of the above principles, we see the reason why
mental arithmetic, though it may not communicate any knowledge, is yet
productive of considerable mental vigour. These exercises compel the
young to a species of voluntary thought, the reiteration in the mind of
the powers of numbers; and although the result of the particular
calculations which are then made, may never again be of any service to
the pupil, yet the consequent exercise of mind is beneficial. It should
never be forgotten, however, that this exercise of mind upon _numbers_
is altogether an artificial operation, and is on this account, neither
so efficient nor so pleasant as the reiteration of moral or physical
truths. The same degree of mental exercise, brought into operation upon
some useful fact, where the imagination as well as the understanding,
can take a part, would at once be more natural, more efficient, more
pleasant, and more useful.
3. From the nature and operation of the above principle, also, we can
perceive in what the efficiency of Pestalozzi's "Exercises on Objects,"
consists.--When a child is required to tell you the colour and the
consistence of milk, qualities which have all along been familiar to
him, it conveys to him no knowledge; but it excites to observation and
active thought,--to the "reiteration of ideas;"--and for this reason it
is salutary. But it is still equally true, as in the former case, that
the same degree of mental exercise, brought into operation upon some
useful practical truth, would be at least equally useful as a mental
stimulant, and much more beneficial as an educational exercise.
4. From the nature of this great fundamental principle in mental
cultivation, as consisting in the reiteration of ideas, and not of
words, we have a key by which we can satisfactorily explain the
remarkable, and hitherto unaccountable fact, that many persons who, in
youth and at school, have been ranked among the dullest scholars, have
afterwards become the greatest men. An active mind, in exact proportion
to its vigour, will powerfully struggle against the unnatural thraldom
of mere mechanical verbal exercises. The mind in a healthful state will
not be satisfied with words, which are but the medium of ideas, because
ideas alone are the natural food of the mind. Till the powers of the
mind, therefore, are sufficiently enfeebled by time and perseverance, it
will struggle with its fetters, and it will be repressed only by
coercion. Minds naturally weak, or gradually subdued, may and do submit
to this artificial bondage,--this unnatural drudgery; but the vigorous
and powerful mind, under favourable circumstances, spurns the trammels,
and continues to struggle on. It may be a protracted warfare,--but it
must at last come to a close; and it is not till the pupil has emerged
from this mental dungeon, and has had these galling fetters fairly
knocked off, that the natural elasticity and strength of his mind find
themselves at freedom, with sufficient room and liberty to act. The
impetus then received, and the delight in the mental independence then
felt, have frequently led to the brightest results. Hence it is, that
the reputed dunce of the school, has not unfrequently become the
ornament of the senate.
Lastly, we would remark, that from the facts here enumerated, we derive
a good test by which to try every new exercise proposed for training the
young, and for cultivating the powers of the mind. If the exercise
recommended compels the child to active thought,--to the voluntary
exercise of his own mind upon useful ideas,--that exercise, whatever be
its form, will, to that extent at least, be beneficial. And if, at the
same time, it can be associated with the acquisition of knowledge, with
the application of knowledge, or with the ready communication of
knowledge,--all of which, as we have seen, are concomitants in Nature's
process,--it will, in an equal degree, be valuable and worthy of
adoption. But if, on the contrary, the exercise may be performed without
the necessity of voluntary thought, or the reiteration of ideas by the
mind, however plausible or imposing it may appear, it is next to
certain, that although such an exercise may be sufficiently burdensome
to the child, and cause much labour and anxiety to the teacher, it will
most assuredly be at least useless, if not injurious.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] See the Fifth Public Experiment in Education, conducted before Sir
Thomas Kirkpatrick, and the clergy and teachers of Dumfries, in the
month of October 1833.
[10] Note K.
[11] Note H.
[12] For the methods of employing this exercise and the books best
adapted for it, see Note I.
CHAP. II.
_On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in the Pupil's
Acquisition of Knowledge; with a Review of the Analogy between the
Mental and Physical Appetites of the Young._
The second step in the progress of Nature's pupil is the acquisition of
knowledge.--This has always been considered a chief object in every
system of education; and the discovery of the most efficient means by
which it may be accomplished, must be a matter of great importance.
In our remarks upon this subject in a previous chapter, we have shewn,
that Nature in her operations employs four distinct principles for
accumulating knowledge, for retaining it upon the memory, and for
keeping it in readiness for use at the command of the will. There are,
_First_, the "reiteration of ideas" by the mind, without which there can
be no knowledge; _Secondly_, the principle of "Individuation," by which
the knowledge of objects and truths is acquired one by one; _Thirdly_,
the principle of "Grouping," or Association, in which the mind views as
one object, what is really composed of many; and, _Fourthly_, the
principle of "Analysis," or Classification, in which the judgment is
brought into exercise, the different portions of our knowledge are
arranged and classified under different heads and branches, and the
whole retained in order at the command of the will, when any portion of
it is required.--Our object now is to consider, what means are within
the reach of the parent and the teacher, by which Nature in these
several processes may be successfully imitated, while they endeavour to
communicate the elements of knowledge to the young.
Ideas being the only proper food of the mind, Nature has created in the
young an extraordinary appetite and desire for their possession. There
is a striking analogy in this respect, between the strengthening of the
body by food, and the invigorating of the mind by knowledge; and before
proceeding to detail the methods by which the parent or the teacher may
successfully break down and prepare the bread of knowledge for their
pupils in imitation of Nature, it will be of advantage here to consider
more particularly some of the circumstances connected with this
instructive analogy. By tracing the likeness so conspicuously held out
to us in this analogy by Nature herself, we shall be greatly assisted in
evading the bewildering and mystifying influence of prejudice, and the
reader will be much better prepared to judge of the value of those means
recommended for nourishing and strengthening the mind by knowledge, when
he finds them to correspond so exactly with similar principles employed
by Nature for the nourishing and strengthening of the body by food. We
shall by this means, we hope, be able to detect some of those fallacies
which have long tended to trammel the exertions, and to prevent the
success of the teacher in his interesting labours.
The first point of analogy to which we would advert, is the vigour and
activity of the mental appetite in the young, which corresponds so
strikingly with the frequent and urgent craving of their bodily appetite
for food.--The desire of food for the body, and the desire of knowledge
for the mind, are alike restless and insatiable in childhood; and a
similar amount of satisfaction and pleasure is the consequence, whenever
these desires are prudently gratified. That the desire for knowledge in
the young is often weakened, and sometimes destroyed, is but too true;
but this is the work of man, not of Nature. It will accordingly be found
on investigation, with but few exceptions, that wherever the general
appetite of the child, either for mental or bodily food, becomes languid
or weak, it is either the effect for disease or of some grievous abuse.
Another point of analogy consists, in the necessity of the personal
active co-operation of the child himself in receiving and digesting his
food.--There is no such thing in Nature as a child being fed and
nourished by proxy. His food must be received, digested, and assimilated
by his own powers, and by the use of his own organs, else he will never
be fed. In the same way, the food for his mind can benefit him only in
so far as he himself is the active agent. He must himself receive,
reiterate in his own mind, and commit to the keeping of his memory,
every idea presented to him by his teacher. No one can do this for
him;--he must do it himself. In a family, the parent may provide, dress,
and communicate the food to the child,--but he can do no more; and
similar is the case with respect to the mental food provided by the
teacher. He may no doubt select the most appropriate kinds,--he may
simplify it,--he may break it down into morsels;--but his pupils, if
they are to learn, must learn for themselves. When a pupil, to save
himself trouble, tries to evade the learning of a preliminary lesson, or
when the teacher winks at the evasion by performing the exercise for
him, it is as absurd as for a parent to eat the child's food, and expect
at the same time that his boy is to be nourished by it. If the mental
food be too strong for the child, something more simple must be provided
for him; but to continue to administer knowledge which the pupil does
not comprehend, and force the strong mental food of an adult upon the
tender capacities of a child, is an error of the most mischievous kind.
It prevents the mind from acting at all, without which there can be no
improvement. The mind must wield its own weapons if ignorance is to be
dislodged; and if the child is to advance at all, he must overcome the
difficulties that lie in his way by the exertion of his own powers. His
teacher may no doubt direct him as to the best and the easiest way of
accomplishing his object; but that is all. The pupil must in every case
perform the exercise for himself.
This leads us to notice another point of analogy in this case, which is,
the necessity of adapting the food to the age and capacities of those
who are to receive it.--There is in the mental, as well as in the
physical nourishment provided for our race, milk for the weak, as well
as meat for the strong; and it is necessary in both cases that the kind
and the quantity be carefully attended to. In the case of the strong,
there is less danger; because, with regard both to the mental and bodily
food, Nature has so ordered matters, that the food which is best adapted
for the weak, will also nourish the strong; but the food adapted for the
strong is never suitable, and is often poisonous to the weak. There must
therefore be, in all cases where the young are concerned, as careful a
selection of the mental food, as there is of the food for the body; and
the parent or teacher should, in all cases, present only such subjects,
and such ideas to his pupils, as the state of their faculties, or the
progress of their knowledge, enables them to understand and apply.
Another striking point of analogy between mental and bodily nourishment,
is to be found in the effects of repletion, when too great a quantity of
food is communicated at one time.--As the increase of a child's bodily
strength does not depend upon the mere quantity of food forced into his
stomach, but upon that portion only which is healthfully digested and
assimilated; so in like manner, the amount of a child's knowledge will
not correspond to the number of ideas forced upon his attention by the
teacher, but to those only which have been reiterated by the mind, and
committed by that process to the keeping of the memory. In both cases,
the evil of repletion is two-fold; there is the waste of food and of
labour, while the strength and the growth of the child, instead of being
promoted, are retarded and diminished. The physical appetite gains
strength, by moderate exercise; but it is palled and weakened by every
instance of repletion. The desire for food is never for any length of
time at rest, so long as the stomach is kept in proper tone by moderate
and frequent feeding; and the quantity of food which a healthy child
will in these circumstances consume, is often surprising. But whenever
the stomach is gorged, then restlessness, uneasiness, and not
unfrequently disease, are the consequences. The digestive powers are
weakened, the tone of the stomach is relaxed, and, instead of the
healthful craving for food which should occur at the proper interval,
the appetite is destroyed, and food of every kind is nauseated.--Exactly
similar is the case with the mental appetite. The natural curiosity of
children, or, in other words, their desire of information, before it is
checked or overloaded by mismanagement, is almost insatiable; and the
astonishing amount of knowledge which they usually acquire between the
ages of one and three years, while under the guidance of Nature, has
been formerly alluded to. But this desire of information, and this
capacity for receiving it, are by no means confined to that early
period of their lives. The same appetite for knowledge would increase
and acquire additional strength, were it but properly directed, or
furnished with moderate and suitable means of gratification. But when a
parent or teacher impatiently attempts to force it upon the child more
rapidly than he can receive it,--that is, than he can reiterate it in
his mind for himself,--he not only irritates and harasses the child, but
his attempt neutralizes the effect of the ideas which the child would
otherwise pleasantly and efficiently have received. Every such attempt
to do more than enough greatly weakens the powers of the pupil's mind,
and discourages him from any after attempt to increase his knowledge.
As a general maxim in the education of the young, it may here be
observed, that as long as the understanding of a child remains clear,
and he can distinctly perceive the truths which are communicated to him,
he will find himself pleasantly and profitably employed, and will soon
acquire a habit of distinct mental vision;--the powers of his mind will
be rapidly expanded and strengthened, and he will receive and retain the
knowledge communicated to him with ease and with pleasure. But when, on
the contrary, he is overtasked, and more ideas are forced upon his
attention than his capacity can receive, the mind becomes disturbed and
confused, the mental perception becomes cloudy and indistinct, and all
that is communicated in these circumstances is absolutely lost. If the
parent or teacher insists on the pupil persevering in his mental meal,
in the hope that things will get better, we can easily, from the present
analogy, perceive the fallacy of such a hope. Perseverance will only
create additional perplexity; the whole powers of the child's mind will
become more and more enfeebled, or totally prostrated; the labour of the
teacher will be lost; and he will find his pupil now, and for some time
afterwards, much less able to take a clear and distinct view of any
subject than he was before.
There is yet one other point of analogy between the supply of food for
the body and the mind, to which we must also allude. It is to be found
in the baneful, and often destructive, effects of unnatural stimulants
applied to the mental appetite, which strikingly correspond in their
effects to the pernicious habit of supplying stimulants to the young in
their ordinary food.--Stimulants will no doubt, in both cases, produce
for the time additional excitement;--but they are neither natural nor
necessary. In all ordinary cases, Nature has made ample provision for
the supposed want, of which the craving--the natural and healthy
craving--of children for knowledge and for food, gives ample testimony.
To counteract or to weaken this natural desire would be improper;--but
artificially to _increase_ it is always dangerous. The reason is
obvious; for the excitement thus caused being unnatural, it is always
temporary; but its pernicious effects very soon become extensive and
permanent. Every physician knows, that the habitual use of stimulants in
the food of the young, weakens the tone of the stomach, palls the
appetite, creates a disrelish for plain and wholesome food, and
frequently destroys the powers of digestion for ever after. Very similar
are the effects of unnatural stimulants to the mental appetite in
training and teaching the young, when these stimulants are habitually,
or even frequently administered. Their curiosity,--their appetite for
knowledge,--is naturally so vigorous, that the repetition, or the
reading of any story, however commonplace or uninteresting to us, gives
them the sincerest pleasure, provided only that they understand and can
follow it. This is a most wise and beneficent provision of Nature, of
which parents and teachers should be careful to take advantage. It is
because of this disposition in children, that in all ordinary cases, the
simplest narrative or anecdote in ordinary life, may be successfully
employed in giving them mental strength, and in communicating permanent
moral instruction. But whenever unnatural and injudicious excitements
are used in their instruction, and the child's imagination has been
stimulated and defiled by the ideas of giants and ogres, fairies and
ghosts, the whole natural tone of the mind is destroyed, plain and even
interesting stories and narratives lose their proper attraction, and a
diseased and insatiable appetite for the marvellous and the horrible is
generally created. Even to adults, and much more to children, whose
minds have been thus abused, the plain paths of probability and truth
have lost every charm; and the study of abstract but useful subjects
becomes to them a nauseous task--an intolerable burden.
The accuracy of this analogy, we think, will readily be admitted by all.
And if so, it will at least help to illustrate, if it does not prove,
some of the important conclusions to which we shall find ourselves led
upon other, and philosophical grounds. But as the prejudices which,
during several centuries, have been gradually congregating around the
science of education are so many and so powerful, every legitimate
means, and this among others, should be combined for the purpose of
removing them.
CHAP. III.
_How Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge to the Pupil, by
the Reiteration of Ideas._
The phenomenon in mechanics and natural philosophy, which is popularly
termed "Suction," may be exhibited in a thousand different ways, and yet
all are the result of but one cause. When we witness the various
phenomena of the air and common pump,--the barometer and the cupping
glass,--the sipping of our tea, and the traversing of an insect on the
mirror or the roof,--the operations appear so very dissimilar, that we
are ready to attribute them to the action of a variety of agents. But it
is not so;--for when we trace each of them back to its primitive cause,
we find that each and all of these wonders are produced by the weight of
the atmosphere, and _that alone_. In precisely the same manner,
knowledge may apparently be communicated to the human mind in a thousand
different ways; and yet, when we examine each, and trace it to its
primitive cause, we find the phenomenon to be one--and _one alone_. The
truth has been received and lodged with the memory,--made part of our
knowledge--by _the reiteration of its idea_ by the mind itself;--by an
exercise of active, voluntary thought upon the knowledge thus
communicated. The cause and the effect invariably follow each other both
in old and young; for whenever a new idea is perceived and reiterated by
the pupil,--if it should be but once,--the knowledge of the child is to
that extent increased; but whenever this act of the mind is awanting,
there can be no additional information received;--the increase of
knowledge is found to be impossible. This appears to be a law of our
Nature, to which we know of no exception.
It is also worthy of remark here, that the retention or permanence of
the ideas thus committed to the keeping of the memory depends upon two
circumstances. The first is, the vigour of the mental powers, or the
intensity of the impression made upon them at the time of
reiteration;--and the second, and certainly the principal circumstance,
is the frequency of their reiteration by the mind. In evidence of the
first we see, that a fall, a fright, or a narrow escape from imminent
danger, although it occurred but once, and perhaps in early infancy,
will be remembered through life; and in proof of the second, we find,
that the scenes and circumstances of childhood being frequently and
daily reiterated by the mind, at a time when it has little else to
reiterate, remain permanently on the memory. The object therefore most
to be desired by the teacher, is an exercise, or a series of exercises,
by which, in his attempts to communicate knowledge to his pupil, this
act of reiteration may be secured, and if possible repeated at pleasure,
for more permanently fixing on the memory the knowledge communicated.
In a former chapter we shewed, that this act of reiteration is the
instrument employed by Nature for cultivating the powers of the mind as
well as for communicating and impressing knowledge;--and we have also
shewn that Nature in that process was successfully imitated by means of
the catechetical exercise. This exercise has accordingly been found as
powerful and efficient in promoting this, her second object, as it is in
the first. The success of the catechetical exercise in communicating
knowledge clearly to the young, even when it is but imperfectly managed,
has been extensive and uniform; but wherever its nature has been
properly understood, and it has been scientifically conducted, the
amount of knowledge communicated in a given time, and with a given
amount of mental and physical labour, stands confessedly without a
parallel in the previous history of education. Minds the most obtuse,
habits of listlessness the most inveterate, and mental imbecility,
bordering on idiotcy, have been powerfully assailed and overcome; and
knowledge, by means of this exercise, has forced its way, and firmly
secured a place for itself, in minds which previously were little more
than a blank.
The causes of its success in cultivating the powers of the mind were
formerly explained; but its adaptation to the communicating of knowledge
is still more peculiarly striking. We shall endeavour to point out a few
of these peculiarities.
Let us for that purpose suppose a teacher desirous of communicating to a
child the important fact, that "God at first made all things of nothing
to shew his greatness;" it must be done, either by the child reading or
hearing the sentence. If it be read, there is at least a chance, that
the words may be all decyphered, and audibly pronounced, while the ideas
contained in them have not yet reached the mind. The child may have
carefully examined each word as it occurred, and may have reiterated
each of them on his mind as he read them, and yet there may not be the
slightest addition to his knowledge. The reiteration of _words_, as we
have before explained, is not that which Nature requires, but the
reiteration of _ideas_; and although we may, by substituting the one for
the other, deceive ourselves, Nature will not be deceived; for unless
the ideas contained in the sentence be reiterated by the mind, there can
be no additional information conveyed.--The same thing may happen, if
the words, instead of being read by the child, are announced by the
teacher. The pupil may in that case hear the sounds; nay, he may repeat
the words, and thus reiterate _them_ in his mind after the teacher; but
if he has not translated the words into their proper ideas as he
proceeded, experience proves, that his knowledge remains as limited as
before;--there has been no additional information. These cases are so
common, and so uniform, that no farther illustration we think needs be
given of them.
The desideratum in both these cases is, some exercise by which the child
shall be compelled to translate the words into their several ideas; and
by reiterating the ideas themselves, not the words which convey them, he
shall be enabled at once to commit them to the keeping of the memory,
and thus make them part of his knowledge. The catechetical exercise
supplies this want. For if, in either case, after the words have been
read or repeated, the child is asked, "What did God make?" the
translation of the words into the ideas, if previously neglected, is now
forced upon him, because without this it is impossible for him to
prepare the answer. The ideas must be drawn from the words, and
reiterated by the mind, independently of the words, before the exercise
can be completed. And not only must the particular idea which answers
the question be extracted, but _the whole_ of the ideas contained in the
sentence must be reiterated by the mind, before the selection can be
begun, and the choice made. It is also specially worthy of remark, that
even in such a case as this, where, on the sentence being read or heard,
the words alone were at first perceived, yet no sooner does the mind
proceed to its legitimate object, the reiteration of the ideas which the
words convey, than the words themselves are instantly lost sight of, and
in one sense are never again thought of. As soon as the kernel is
extracted, the shell has lost its value. The pupil having once got sight
of the ideas, tenaciously keeps hold of _them_, and never once thinks
again of the words, which were merely the instrument employed by Nature
to convey them. When the question is asked, and he answers it, the
process consists in his translating the words of the whole sentence into
their several ideas, chusing out the idea which answers the question
from all the others, and then in clothing that idea in words which are
now entirely his own.
In all this there is a long and intricate series of mental exercises, in
every one of which the mind is actively employed, and it is in this, as
before explained, that the value of this exercise, in cultivating the
powers of the mind, really consists. But our present business is with
the acquisition of knowledge by its means; and we have to observe, that
in each of the mental operations required for the answer of a single
question, the ideas contained in the original sentence have repeatedly
to undergo the process of reiteration; by which they are more clearly
perceived, and more permanently fixed on the memory, than they otherwise
could have been. Hence the value of this exercise, even in those cases
where the original sentence has been at the first fully understood. This
will appear obvious by tracing the mental operation of the pupil from
the beginning, when he has to answer the question.
There is first the understanding of the question asked at him. This must
be heard and reiterated by the mind before its purport can be perceived,
and all this before he can commence the proper mental operation upon the
original sentence from which his answer is to be selected. He has then
to review the words of the original sentence, still sounding in his
ears, and to translate them into their several ideas, before he can
begin to select the one required. Then comes the act of selection,
having to chuse out from among all the others the special idea required
as his answer; and lastly, there is the clothing of that idea in words
suitable for the occasion, and the audibly pronouncing of these words as
the answer required. The rapidity with which the mind passes from one
part of this exercise to another, may prevent these several operations
from being perceived, but it is not the less true that they must have
taken place. And hence arises the value of the catechetical exercise,
not only in cultivating in an extraordinary degree the mental faculties
of the pupil, but in powerfully forcing information upon the mind, and
permanently fixing it upon the memory for after use.
But even this does not exhaust the catalogue of benefits to be derived
from the use of the catechetical exercise in communicating knowledge to
the young. We have supposed only one question to have been asked by the
teacher upon the original sentence, and yet we have seen that this one
question has in fact in a great measure secured the understanding of the
whole of the ideas contained in it. But instead of one question, the
catechetical exercise has the power of originating many, each producing
successively similar results, but with greater ease to the child, and
with much more effect in rivetting the several ideas upon the memory.
The first question, when properly put, gives the pupil the command of
the whole proposition; but it requires considerable mental effort in the
child to recall the words, and internally to translate the ideas _for
the first time_. But when this has once been done, and a second question
is asked from the same sentence, the ideas being now more familiar,
there is less mental labour required in preparing the answer, and there
being equal success, there is of course more satisfaction. The ideas
become much more clear and distinct before the mind by a second review;
and the effect, in fixing the whole upon the memory, is much more
powerful than it could be by means of the first. When therefore the
teacher confines himself to the original sentence, and does not indulge
in catechetical wanderings, the questions, "When did God make all
things?" "How many things did God make?" "Of what did God make all
things?" and, "Why did God make all things?" produce extensive and
powerful effects. The pupil finds himself able to master each question
in succession without difficulty, and the answering of each appears to
him a triumph. Whoever has been in the habit of making use of this
exercise in the manner explained above, must have witnessed with
pleasure the life, and energy, and delight, which it invariably infuses
into the scholar, giving education a perfectly different aspect from
what it usually assumes in the eyes of the young, and making it even in
the estimation of the pupil a formidable rival to his play. In this
manner has Nature set her seal upon this exercise, as a near
approximation to her own process for attaining the two preparatory
objects she has in view in the education of the young; that of
cultivating the powers of the mind, and that of communicating to her
pupils the elements of knowledge.
This exercise has been reduced to a regular system, which has placed it
more directly at the command of all who undertake the instruction of the
young. By a little attention on the part of parents and teachers, to a
few simple rules, they may catechise upon any book, and apply the
exercise to any species of knowledge whatever. We shall endeavour to
explain the nature and uses of these rules.
For the purposes of this exercise, the school books of the pupil are
supposed to consist of sentences, each of the principal _words_ in which
conveys some specific idea;--these again are combined into _clauses_,
which also convey an idea;--and the combination of these clauses in a
_sentence_, or _paragraph_, usually forms a complete truth. For example,
the sentence, "God at first [made all things] of nothing [to shew his
greatness,"] contains one great truth; but the sentence which conveys
it, embodies at least two _clauses_, inclosed in brackets, while the
whole is made up of _words_, each of which is the sign of an idea which
may readily be separated from all the others. Now it is evident, that
questions may be formed by the teacher relative to each of these three
parts. He may ask a question, which shall require the _whole_ truth for
the answer; or one which will be answered by a _clause_; or another
which is answered by a _word_.
In "revising," accordingly, where time is an object, the teacher
confines himself to those general questions which bring out the _whole
truth_ at once, as is exemplified in the Larger and Shorter Catechisms.
This is called the "Connecting Exercise," because it is employed in
uniting sections together, which have previously been taught to the
pupils separately, but which are necessary to be perceived also in
connection. This, however, would be too limited an exercise for the
purpose of directing the mind to the several parts of a truth for the
first time; and therefore the teacher in those cases forms his questions
chiefly upon the _clauses_ in the sentence, and the other words which
have some material relation to them, and this is called the "General
Exercise." But even this is not enough, where the child is dull, or
where healthful mental exercise is required; and accordingly in that
case, the teacher not only questions upon the clauses in connection with
the other principal words, but he takes the _words_, of which the
clauses are composed, and catechises the child upon them also. This is
called the "Verbal Exercise," which has been found of great value in the
teacher's intercourse with his younger classes. Upon these principles
the Initiatory Catechisms and their Keys have been formed, together with
the several Helps for communicating Scriptural knowledge. The success of
these school books, although labouring under all the disadvantages of
new instruments, imperfectly formed to work out new principles, is
mainly to be attributed to the close imitation of Nature aimed at in all
their exercises.
The _rule_ for the parent or teacher in mastering these exercises is the
same in all; it consists simply in forming the question in such a
manner, as that the word, the clause, or the whole proposition, shall be
required to make the answer. Sufficient explanation and examples of all
this will be found in the Note.[13]
The uniform results of many experiments, have established the importance
of this exercise as an instrument in communicating knowledge to the
ignorant, whether young or old. We shall shortly advert to a few of the
circumstances connected with these experiments, for the purpose of
satisfactorily establishing this.
In an experiment made in May 1828, under the direction of the Very Rev.
Dr Baird, Principal of the University of Edinburgh, before the Lord
Provost, and several of the Professors and Clergymen of that city, nine
adult criminals, "taken without regard to their abilities," and who, in
the opinion of Governor Rose, "formed a fair average of the usual
prisoners," were, in the space of three successive weeks, exercised in
whole for eighteen or twenty hours. They were at the end of that time
minutely examined in the Chapel of the County Jail, in the presence of
the Right Honourable and Reverend Professors and Gentlemen, who formed
Principal Baird's committee; and their Report of the experiment and its
effects bears, that "the result of this important experiment was, in
every point, satisfactory. Not only had much religious knowledge been
acquired by the pupils, and that of the most substantial, and certainly
the least evanescent kind; but it appeared to have been acquired with
ease, and even with satisfaction--a circumstance of material importance
in every case, but especially in that of adult prisoners." "The
examination evidently brought out only a specimen of their knowledge,
and did by no means comprise all that had been acquired by them; but,
even though it had constituted the whole amount of their information,
the fact that such a treasure had been amassed in three weeks is in
itself astonishing. The writer of this Minute was not acquainted with
the extent of their acquirements when Mr Gall commenced his operations;
but judging from the examination, and from his knowledge of the contents
of the books taught, he has no hesitation in averring, that the answers
which they gave, arose entirely from information communicated by them.
And when he reflects that their answers, being clothed in their own
words, guaranteed the fact, that it was _the ideas_ upon which they had
seized, and that their knowledge participated in no degree of rote, the
conviction to his mind is irresistible, that the universal application
of the Lesson System to Prison Discipline, and to adults every where,
would be followed by effects incalculably precious to the individuals
themselves, and to the improving of society in general."
The efficiency of this exercise in communicating knowledge, was equally
conspicuous in another experiment, conducted under the eye of the
Principal, Professors, and Clergymen of Aberdeen, in July 1828. The
persons on whom this experiment was made, were children taken from the
lower classes of society, carefully selected on two several days, by a
committee of clergymen appointed for the purpose, from the various
schools in the city. These children were all carefully and individually
examined in private by the committee, and were chosen from among their
companions, not on account of their natural abilities, or educational
acquirements, but specially and simply on account of their ignorance.
The precautions taken by the Rev. and learned examinators, to secure
accuracy in their ultimate decision, were at once judicious and
complete; and were intended to enable them to say with confidence at the
close of the experiment, that the results, whatever they might be, were
really the effects of the exercise and discipline to which the children
during it had been subjected, and were in no respect due to the previous
capacity or the attainments of the children.
To secure this important preliminary object, therefore, the
sub-committee of clergymen above alluded to was appointed, as soon as
the experiment was determined upon, with instructions to collect a class
of the most ignorant children they could find, attending the several
schools, and who it was thought would be, of course, most incapacitated
for receiving instruction. This sub-committee, consisting of the Rev.
John Murray, the Rev. Abercromby L. Gordon, and the Rev. David Simpson,
in their previous Report, say, "We, on two several days, met with the
children which were collected from the various schools, and examined
them individually, and apart from each other; avoiding every appearance
of formality, and endeavouring to draw them into familiar conversation,
that we might correctly ascertain the state of their religious knowledge
on the three following points, which we considered to be the best
criterion by which to judge of their understanding of the other less
important points in the gospel scheme of salvation.--These points were,
1. Our connection, as sinners, with Adam; 2. Our connection with Christ
as the Saviour; 3. The means by which we become interested in the
salvation of Christ. On minutely examining each child on these points,
one by one, and endeavouring, by varied and familiar language and
cross-questioning, without confusing their ideas, to ascertain the
knowledge which they possessed on these first principles, we accurately,
and at the time, minuted the result, distinguishing those points which
they understood, and those which they did not. From this list we
afterwards selected twenty-two names, of children who appeared from the
list, to be the most ignorant, by _not having any marks of approval on
any one of these points_ on which they were examined;--although delicacy
to the children, as well as to their parents and teachers, prevented us
from stating to them, that this was the principle by which we had been
regulated in our selection. From these twenty-two children, Mr Gall has
made up his class of ten, for this experiment, which he proposes shall
continue for eight days, occupying two hours each day; and having thus
chosen that class of pupils which appeared to us the most ignorant, we
have, in justice to Mr Gall and this system of teaching, stated the
fact, leaving the examinators to make what allowance they may on this
account think proper, in determining on the failure or success of this
very important and interesting experiment."
This was the state of the children's knowledge and capacity when the
experiment began; and the following was found to be the state of these
same children's knowledge when examined publicly in the East Church,
before the Very Rev. Principal, Professors, and Clergymen of the city,
and a large congregation of the citizens, eight days afterwards.
The children were first interrogated minutely on the doctrines of the
gospel, which had been previously arranged in a list under sixteen
different heads, embodying all the leading doctrinal points in the
Confession of Faith and Shorter Catechism, a copy of which was handed to
the Very Rev. Principal Jack, who presided. The Report of the
Experiment, prepared by their Committee, goes on to say, that "After
being examined generally and satisfactorily on each of these heads, the
chairman, by means of a list of the names with which he was furnished,
called up some of them individually, who were carefully examined, and
shewed, by their answers, that they severally understood the nature of
the above doctrines, and their mutual relation to each other.
"They were then examined on the Old Testament History, from the account
of the death of Moses, downwards, to that of the revolt of the Ten
Tribes in the reign of Rehoboam. Here they distinctly stated and
described all the leading circumstances of the narrative comprised in
the 'First Step,' whose brief but comprehensive outline they appeared,
in various instances, to have filled up at home, by reading in their
Bibles the corresponding chapters. They were next examined in the same
way, on several sections of the New Testament," with which they had also
acquired an extensive practical knowledge, besides some useful
information in Civil History, Biography, and Natural Philosophy, on all
which they were closely and extensively examined.
In another experiment, undertaken at the request, and under the
sanction, of the Sunday School Union of London, the efficiency of this
exercise, as a successful imitation of Nature in communicating
knowledge, was also satisfactorily ascertained. We shall at present
advert only to one feature of it, as being more immediately connected
with the present branch of our subject, that of communicating knowledge
to the most ignorant and depraved.
The Report of this Experiment, drawn up by the Secretaries of that
Institution, records, that "it had been requested, that, if possible,
children should be procured, somewhat resembling the heathen, (or
persons in a savage state,) whose intellectual and moral attainments
were bounded only by their knowledge of natural objects, and whose
feelings and obligations were of course regulated principally by
coercion and fear of punishment."
Two gentlemen of the Committee, accordingly, undertook the search, and
at last procured from the streets three children, a boy and two girls of
the ages, so far as could be ascertained, (for they themselves could not
tell,) of seven, nine, and eleven years, whom we shall designate G, H,
and I. These children had no knowledge of letters; knew no more than the
name of God, and that he was in the skies, but could not tell any thing
about him, or what he had done. They knew not who made the sun, nor the
world, nor themselves. They had no idea of a soul, or that they should
live after death. One had a confused idea of the name of Jesus, as
connected with prayers; which, however, she did not understand, but had
never heard of Adam, Noah, or Abraham. When asked if they knew any thing
of Moses, one on them (viz. I,) instantly recollected the name; but when
examined, it was found that she only referred to a cant term usually
bestowed upon the old-clothesmen of London. They had no idea of a
Saviour; knew nothing of heaven or hell; had never heard of Christ, and
knew not whether the name belonged to a man or a woman. The boy, (H,)
when strictly interrogated on this point, and asked, whether he indeed
knew nothing at all of Jesus Christ, thinking his veracity called in
question, replied with much earnestness, and in a manner that showed the
rude state of his mind, "No; upon my soul, I do not!"
This class, after eleven days' teaching, conducted in public, and in the
presence of numbers of teachers, during one hour daily, were publicly
examined in the Poultry Chapel, by a number of clergymen, before the
Committee of the Sunday School Union, and a numerous congregation. The
Report goes on to say, that the children of this class "were examined,
minutely and individually, on the great leading doctrines of
Christianity. The enumeration and illustrations of the several doctrines
were given with a simplicity, and in a language, peculiarly their own;
which clearly proved the value of that part of the Lesson System which
enjoins the dealing with the ideas, rather than with the words; and
which shewed, that they had acquired a clear knowledge of the several
truths. They were also examined on some parts of the Old Testament
History," with which, during that short period, they had been made
thoroughly acquainted.
These facts of themselves, and they could be enlarged to almost any
extent, clearly prove the power and the value of this exercise in
communicating knowledge to the young. And, as we have seen that its
efficiency consists entirely in its close imitation of the process of
Nature in accomplishing the same object, we are the better warranted to
press upon the minds of all who are interested in education and the art
of teaching, the importance of keeping strictly to Nature, so far as we
can trace her operations; as it is by doing so alone that we are sure of
success. It may no doubt be said, that there are other ways of
communicating knowledge to the young, besides the catechetical exercise;
and therefore the necessity of adopting it is neither so necessary nor
so urgent. To this it may be answered, that there have been other plans
adopted, in urgent cases, for the nourishment of the body, besides the
common mode of eating and digesting food; but all such plans are
unnatural, and are of course but momentary and inadequate;--this,
therefore, would form no argument for depriving children of their food.
But even this argument is not parallel; for, although it has been found
that partial nourishment may be conveyed to the blood otherwise than by
the stomach, it has not yet been ascertained that any idea can enter the
mind, except by this act of "reiteration." Unless, therefore, something
definite can be brought forward, which will secure the performance of
this act, different from the catechetical exercise, or the several
modifications of it, that exercise ought to be considered as a necessary
agent in every attempt of the teacher to communicate knowledge.
But this admission in a philosophical question is much more than is at
all necessary for our present purpose. It is in every view of the case
sufficient to shew, that knowledge cannot be imparted without voluntary
active thought upon the ideas communicated, or what we have termed,
"reiteration;"--and if this be once admitted, and if it can be shewn
that the catechetical exercise produces this result _more certainly_,
and _more powerfully_, than any other mode of instruction yet known,
then nothing but prejudice will lead to the neglect of this, or will
give the preference to another. And it is a remarkable fact, that on
investigation it will be found, that almost every useful exercise
introduced into schools within the last thirty years, owes its
efficiency to the presence, more or less, of the principles which we
have been explaining, as embodied in the catechetical exercise.[14]
FOOTNOTES:
[13] Note L.
CHAP. IV.
_On the Means by which Nature may be imitated in Exercising the
Principle of Individuation._
While it appears to be a law of Nature, that there can be no
accumulation of knowledge without the act of reiteration, yet there are
other principles which she brings into operation in connection with it,
by which the amount of the various branches of knowledge received is
greatly increased, and the knowledge itself more easily comprehended,
and more permanently retained upon the memory.
The first of these principles, which we have before alluded to and
described, is that of "individuation;" that principle by which an infant
or child is induced to concentrate the powers of its mind upon a new
object, and that to the exclusion for the time of every other, till it
has become acquainted with it.
In a former chapter we found, that as long as a child remains solely
under the guidance of Nature, it will not allow its attention to be
distracted by different _unknown_ objects at the same time; but whenever
it selects one for examination, it invariably for the time abandons the
consideration of every other. The consequence of this is, that infants,
with all their physical and mental imbecility, acquire more real
knowledge under the tuition of Nature in one year, than children who are
double their age usually gain by the imperfect and unnatural exercises
of unreformed schools in three or four. The cause of this is easily
detected, and may be illustrated by the analogy of any one of the
senses. The eye, for example, like the mind, must not only see the
object, but it must look upon it--examine it--before the child can
either become acquainted with it at the time, or remember it afterwards.
But if unknown objects are made rapidly to flit past the eye of the
child, so that this cannot be done before there is time to fix the
attention upon any of them, the labour of the exhibitor is not only
lost, but the sight of the child is impaired;--the eye itself is
injured, and is less able, for some time afterwards, to look steadily
upon any other object, even when that object is stationary. Such is the
injury and the confusion created in the mind of a child when it is
hurried forward from object to object, or from truth to truth, before
the mind has had leisure to lay hold of them, or to concentrate its
powers upon the ideas they suggest. The labour of the teacher in that
case is not only lost, and the child harassed and irritated, but the
powers of the mind, instead of being brightened and strengthened, are
bewildered and mystified, and must therefore be weakened in a
corresponding degree.
The method to be adopted therefore for the imitation of Nature in the
working of this principle, will consist in bringing forward, for the
consideration of the child, every new letter, or word, or truth, or
object, _by itself_. When presented separately and alone, there is no
distraction of mind--no confusion of ideas; the child is allowed to
consider it well before learning it, so that he will know something of
its form or its nature, and will remember it again when it is either
presented to his notice alone, or when it is grouped with others. His
idea of the object or truth may be indistinct and faint at first, but it
is correct so far as it goes; and the ideas which he retains concerning
it, are obviously much more extensive, than if the mind at its first
presentation had been disturbed or bewildered by the addition of
something else.
His idea of the object or the truth, after being repeatedly considered,
may still be very inadequate, but it will now be distinct; and it is the
want of this precision in the pupil's mind that so frequently deceives
teachers, and confuses and obstructs the future advance of the scholars.
When a child hears, or reads a passage, the teacher, who understands it
himself, too often takes it for granted that the child as he proceeds is
reiterating the ideas as well as himself, and is of course master of the
subject. But this is not always the case; and wherever the child has not
succeeded in doing so, all that follows in that lesson is usually to the
child the cause of confusion and difficulty. He finds himself at a
stand; and however far he may in these circumstances be dragged
forward, he has not advanced a step, and he must at some future
period,--and the sooner the better,--return again to the same point, and
proceed anew under serious disadvantages.
In almost every stage of a child's education, the neglect of this
principle is seriously and painfully felt. It is the cause of acute
mental suffering to well affected and zealous pupils; and it is the
chief origin of all the heartlessness, and idleness, and apathy, which
are found to pervade and regulate the conduct of those that are less
active. A careful appliance of this principle of individuation,
therefore, is always of importance in education; but it ought never to
be forgotten, that it is more peculiarly valuable and necessary at the
commencement, than at any other period of a child's progress in
learning. We shall advert to a few of the methods by which it may be
applied in ordinary school education, in contrast with some instances in
which it is neglected.
In teaching the alphabet to children, the principle of individuation is
indispensable; and its neglect has been productive of serious and
permanent mischief. A child of good capacity, by a proper attention to
this principle, will, with pleasure and ease, learn the names and forms
of the letters, with the labour of only a few hours;[15] while, by
neglecting the principle, the same child would, after years of
irritation and weariness, be still found ignorant of its alphabet. The
overlooking of the principle at this period has done an immense deal of
injury to the cause of education. It has, at the very starting post in
the race of improvement, quenched and destroyed all the real, as well as
the imaginary delights of learning and knowledge. It has given the tyro
such an erroneous but overwhelming impression of the difficulties and
miseries which he must endure in his future advance, that the disgust
then created has often so interwoven itself with his every feeling, that
education has during life appeared to him the natural and necessary
enemy to every kind of enjoyment.
It used to be common, and the practice may still we believe be found
lingering among some of the lovers of antiquity, to make a child
commence at the letter A, and proceed along the alphabet without
stopping till he arrived at Z; and this lesson not unfrequently included
both the alphabets of capitals and small letters. Now the cruelty of
such an exercise with a child will at once be apparent, if we shall only
change its form. If a teacher were to read over to an infant twice a-day
a whole page or paragraph _without stopping_ of Caesar or Cicero in
Latin, and demand that on hearing it he shall learn it, we could at once
judge of the difficulty, and the feelings of a volatile mind chained to
the constant and daily repetition of such a task; and if this exercise
were termed its "education," we can easily conceive the amount of
affection that the child would learn to cherish towards it. Now this is
really no exaggerated illustration of the matter in hand, for in both
cases the principle of individuation, so carefully guarded and enforced
by Nature, is equally outraged; and it is only where, by some means or
other, a remedy for the evil accidentally occurs, that the result in the
case of the alphabet, is not exactly the same as it would have been in
the case of the classics above supposed. The writer once saw in a Sunday
school, where the children were taught twice each Sabbath, a class in
which some of the children had attended for upwards of two years, and
were still in their alphabet; and if the same mode had been pursued,
there is little doubt that they would have been in it yet.
The remedy for this evil is obvious. Instead of confounding the eye and
the mind of the child, by rapidly parading twenty-six, or fifty-four
forms, continuously and without intermission before the pupil, the
letters ought to be presented to the child singly, or at most by two at
a time; and these two should be rendered familiar, both in name and in
form, before another character is introduced. When a few of the more
conspicuous letters have become familiar, another is to be brought
forward, and the child may be made to amuse himself, by picking out from
a page of a book, all the letters he has learned, naming them, and if
necessary describing them to a companion or a sub-monitor as they occur.
Or he may be set down by himself, with a waste leaf from an old book, or
pamphlet, or newspaper, to prick with a pin the new letter or letters
last taught him; or, as an introduction to his writing, he may be made
to score them gently with ink from a fine tipped pen. In these
exercises, and all others which are in their nature similar, the
principle of individuation is acknowledged and acted upon; and therefore
it is, that a child will, by their means, acquire an acquaintance with
the letters in an exceedingly short time, and, which is of still greater
importance, without irritation or trouble. These methods may sometimes
be rendered yet more effective, by the teacher applying the catechetical
exercise to this comparatively dry and rather forbidding part of a
child's education. It proceeds upon the principle of describing each
letter, and attaching its name to the description, such as "round o,"
"spectacle g," "top dotted i," &c. as in the "Classified Alphabet." The
teacher has thus an opportunity of exercising the child's imagination,
as well as its memory, and making a monotonous, and comparatively
unintellectual exercise, one of considerable variety and amusement.
In teaching the alphabet to adults, whose minds are capable of
appreciating and applying the principle of analysis, the "Classified
Alphabet" should invariably be used. By this means their memory, in
endeavouring to recall the form and name of any particular letter,
instead of having to search through the whole _twenty-six_, has never to
think of more than the four or five which compose its class,--a
circumstance which makes the alphabet much more easily acquired by the
adult than by a child. But even here, the principle of individuation
must not be lost sight of; each letter in the class must be separately
learned, and each class must be familiar, before another is taught.
The principle of individuation continues to be equally necessary in
teaching children to combine the letters in the formation of words; and
when it is attended to, and when the only real use of letters, as the
mere symbols of sound, is understood by the pupil, a smart child may be
taught to read in a few minutes. This is not a theory, but a
fact,--evidenced in the experience of many, and in the presence of
thousands. Nor is it necessary that the words which are taught, should
consist only of two or three letters; if the word be familiar to the
child in speech, it becomes instantly known, when divided and taught in
parts or syllables; and when once it is learned by the sounds of the
letters, though these sounds merely approximate to the pronunciation of
the word, it is sufficient to give a _hint_ of what the word is, and
when once it is known, it will not likely be again forgotten. By this
means, the child is never puzzled except by entirely new words; and by
knowing the use of the letters in their sounds, he receives a key by
which at least to _guess_ at them, which the sense of the subject
greatly assists; so that one day, or even one hour, is sometimes, and we
have no doubt will soon be generally, sufficient to overcome the
hitherto forbidding and harassing drudgery of learning to read.
In teaching children their first lessons, it is of great importance that
the main design of reading should be clearly understood, and attended
to. As writing, philosophically considered, is nothing more than an
artificial substitute for speaking, so reading is nothing more than an
artificial substitute for hearing, and is subject to all the laws which
regulate that act. Now one of the chief laws impressed by Nature on the
act of _hearing_ the speech of others, is the very remarkable one
formerly alluded to, namely, the exclusive occupation of the mind with
the _ideas_ communicated, to the entire exclusion of the _words_, which
are merely the means by which the ideas are conveyed. The words are no
doubt heard, but they are never thought of;--for if they were, the mind
would instantly become distracted, and the ideas would be lost. This law
equally applies to the act of _reading_; and every one feels, that
perfection in this art is never attained, till the mind is exclusively
occupied with the ideas in the book, and never in any case with the
words which convey them. But in learning to read, the difficulty of
decyphering the words, tends to interfere with this law, and this must
be guarded against. The remedy simply is, to allow the child time to
overcome this first difficulty, by repeatedly, if necessary, reading the
sentence till he can read it perfectly; and then, before leaving it, to
discipline the mind to the perception of the ideas it contains, now that
the child can read it well.
The catechetical exercise, as in the "First Class Book on the Lesson
System," will almost always accomplish the object here pointed out; and
the value of the exercise it recommends will be best understood and
appreciated, by observing the evils which invariably follow its neglect.
For if the child be allowed to read on and on, while the difficulty of
decyphering the words in the book remains, the ideas will be left
behind, the attention will be fatigued, and at last exhausted. The child
will continue to read without understanding; and the habit thus acquired
of reading the words, without perceiving the ideas at all, will soon be
established and confirmed. Custom has robbed this relict of a former age
of much of its repulsiveness; but it is not the less hurtful on that
account. Were we to run a parallel with it in any other matter, its true
nature and deformity would at once appear. For example, were we to
suppose ourselves listening to an imperative message from a superior, by
a messenger with whose language we were but partially acquainted, we
would not allow him to proceed with his communication from beginning to
end, while the very first sentence he uttered, had not been understood,
and the mind was unprepared for that which was to follow. We would stop
him at the close of the very first sentence, and would master the
meaning of that, before we would advance with him another step; and then
we would make him proceed at such a pace as we could keep up with him.
If he left us again behind, there would be but one remedy. He must
return and repeat the sentence where he left us, till we had
comprehended his master's meaning; and if he refused to do this, he
could not conscientiously say to him on his return, that he had
delivered his message. By following this plan, and adopting this branch
of the natural principle of individuation in such a case, two benefits
would arise. We would first become perfectly acquainted with the will
and message of our superior; and next, we would, at the close of the
exercise, be so much more familiar with the language in which it was
delivered, as that it would require less effort on a future occasion, to
comprehend the meaning of the same speaker. If this method had not been
adopted, and the message had been given entire and without a pause, it
might have been rehearsed in our hearing a hundred times, but the
meaning would neither have been mastered, nor would our knowledge of the
language have been in the least improved.