Parents are usually anxious to teach history early. ‘This should not be done at all, or should be done with great caution. There are certain well known volumes of Mrs. Trimmer’s, with prints of Grecian, Roman, and English history, which are useful to impress the principal facts, in history, on the minds of children; and we have lately met with some tiny volumes, under the name of Alfred Mills’
‘Pictures of English, and of Roman, and Grecian History.’ The miniature prints in these are far superior to what are usually met with in such books; and the language, and selection of the facts, in these miniken histories are, in general, excellent. Abridgments of history, such as Cooper’s short Histories of England and France, Goldsmith’s of Greece and Rome, Lord Woodhouslee’s excellent book, or any others, which merely give the events, without mixture of political reflections, may be read between the ages of eight and ten; but it is absurd to put Hume, Robertson, Macauley, Gibbon, or any of our philosophical historians’ works, into the hands of children. All that should, or can be done, effectually, is to give the young pupils a clear view of the outline of history, and to fix in their memories the leading facts in the proper order of time. For this purpose, there are several genealogical and historical charts, that may be useful, even at the early age of nine or ten: — Le Sage’s chart contains the fullest, and Stork’s ‘Stream of Time’ by far the clearest view of chronology and history. There are some careless omissions in these, which will probably be remedied in future editions. Priestley’s Charts of History and of Biography can never be obsolete — To me, his Chart of history is not so clear either as Le Sage or as the Stream of Time; but I hear from those, whose judgment I respect, that it conveys to their minds a clear and comprehensive view of its subject.
For the purpose of fixing in the minds of children a few of the leading facts of history, chronology and geography, I think, the technical help of what is called artificial memory may be safely employed. The succession of Roman emperors, of English kings, the large geographical divisions of the world, the order of the principal inventions and discoveries — such as those of gunpowder, printing, and the mariner’s compass; the discovery of America, and of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope, &c may be chronologically stored in the memory, without injury to the understanding. Without encumbering the recollective faculty, twenty or thirty of Gray’s memorial lines may, when selected, be easily committed to memory. They should be recited merely as jargon, till they are perfectly learned by rote; then the use of the letters, in the terminations of the words, which express the dates, should be explained, and the pupil should be practised in the use of these: they should be frequently referred to, in conversation; the children should be called upon, and made ready in the use of their numerical symbols, and, at the same time, made sensible of the advantage of the knowledge they have thus acquired.
Any farther than this, I would avoid technical memory. Among the ancients, it might, in some degree, supply the want of printed books of reference; but, in our days, when knowledge of every sort, that has been hitherto acquired, may be immediately referred to, in every common library, or in the shop of every bookseller, it is needless to load the memories of children with answers to every possible question in geography and history, and with all such learning as is to be found in task books.
Before I quit the subject. I may be permitted to suggest to those who are composing, or who intend to compose elementary books for children, that what is purely didactic, and all general reflections, ought, as much as possible, to be avoided. Action should be introduced. — Action! — Action! Whether in morals or science, the thing to be taught should seem to arise from the circumstances in which the little persons of the drama are placed; and on the proper manner, in which this is managed, will depend the excellence and success of initiatory books for children. Entertaining story, or natural dialogue, induces the pupil to read; but, on the other hand, unless some useful instruction be mixed with this entertainment, nothing but mere amusement will be acceptable, and it will be difficult to bring the attention to fix itself, without dislike, upon any serious subject.
In fact, early instruction — I may trust my own experience, in the education of a large family — early instruction depends more upon oral communication, than upon books, either task books or books of amusement, that can be found for them, or, perhaps, that can be written. Books should be used to recall, arrange, and imprint what is learnt by the senses; they will please the more, when they give back the images, that have been slightly impressed upon the memory.
know, that it is much easier to point out what is desirable, than to show distinctly the means of accomplishing our wishes. How to fill up, from day to day, the aching void, in the little breasts of children, is a question, that cannot be easily solved. When I recommend teaching as much as possible, by oral instruction, I have this grand difficulty full in my view; but I hope to point out, that means maybe found, by which, in some degree, it may be obviated. There is scarcely any object which a child sees or touches, that may not become a subject for conversation and instruction.
For instance, is the mother dressing? — the things on her dressing table are objects of curiosity to the child. The combs are of different sorts — horn, ivory, box, and tortoise shell. How can the horns of an ox be made flat, so as to be cut into the shape of a comb? — What is ivory? and where is tortoise shell to be had? A cane bottom chair frequently catches the attention of a child — it may be made a first lesson in weaving. At breakfast, how many objects for instruction!
The water in a basin reflects the sun — its image dances from place to place as the water moves. A spoon reflects the face, distorted to a frightful length; if turned in another direction, the face becomes ridiculously short.
The steam rises from the urn — the top is forced off the tea-urn — or the water bursts from the spout of a tea-kettle. The child observes that the water rises in a lump of sugar, that is dipped in the tea. The cream swims on the top of the tea — milk mixes with it more readily than cream. At dinner, the back bone, and fins, and gills of a fish, every bone and joint of a fowl or a hare, or of any joint of meat, afford subjects of remark; and all these things, though but very little should be said of them at any one time, may, by degrees, be made subservient, not only to amusement, but to the acquisition of real knowledge.
It is by no means intended to recommend, that lectures should be spoken at every meal, or that the appetites of infants should be made to wait for an explanation of whatever they feed upon —— it is only suggested, that the commonest circumstance of life, and the commonest objects that occur, may become the means of teaching useful facts, and what is of more consequence, habits of observation and reasoning. It will be objected, that, although the subjects which are here alluded to are familiar and of daily occurrence in families of all ranks, parents themselves are frequently not sufficiently capable of giving the instruction which is required.
To this it may be answered, that scarcely any parents are so situated, that they may not, without effort, acquire, from time to time, the little knowledge which they wish to communicate — at least so far as is requisite to excite and support the curiosity of their pupils.
All this may be easily effected by the higher classes of parents, who have leisure to attend to their children; and those parents, who have not time themselves to pursue this course of tuition, may find proper assistants, at no great expense. There are, in England, many persons, who would be suited to such situations — widows, and elderly unmarried women, who are above the station of ordinary domestics, and yet are not sufficiently instructed or accomplished to become governesses. Such persons might be employed, to take the early care of children, while the lower offices of the nursery maid might be performed by common, uneducated servants. No person should daily or hourly converse with children, or should have power over them, or any share in the management of their minds, who does not possess good temper, and a certain degree of good sense. Accomplishments, learning, or even much
information, in the usual sense of the word, will be unnecessary for the kind of assistants here described; but the habit of speaking good language, and in a good accent, is indispensable.
All the knowledge requisite for explaining common objects, to children from six to eight years old, may be gradually acquired, as occasion calls for it daily; and good sense, with a little practice, will soon teach the teacher how to manage instruction in conversation.
In families of less affluence, where this subordinate governess or attendant cannot be afforded, and when the mother cannot secure a friend to assist her, or has not an elder daughter to take a part in the care of the younger ones, the mother must give up more of her own time to her children, than is usual or agreeable, or else she must send them to school.
Here recurs the difficulty of finding schools, where children can be rationally taught; that is to say, where distinct and useful knowledge may be clearly conveyed to their understandings, without unnecessary confinement, slavish habits, or corporal correction. To keep children poring over books that they cannot understand, or casting up sums without making them acquainted with the reasons for the rules which they mechanically follow, is all that can be expected from a common schoolmaster, or, to speak more properly, from a common school. Parents send young children to school, not only to learn what is professed to be taught, but also to keep their troublesome infants out of harm’s way. Were the schoolmaster ever so much enlightened, or ever so well disposed, he must comply with the expectations of parents — he must keep his scholars apparently at work for a given number of hours — or he cannot satisfy his employers.
What is to be done?
The schoolmaster must appear to do as others do. The remedy does not lie with the school, or with the schoolmaster, but with the parents. Until parents are convinced of the inefficacy of the present system, things must remain as they are. When they are persuaded, that a reform is necessary, the next thing is to consider how it can be accomplished.
To encourage good elementary schools, more liberal emoluments must be allowed to schoolmasters and mistresses. To effect this purpose, without raising the present price of schooling, nothing more is necessary than to shorten the present enormous duration of school hours.
Two hours’ attention is more than sufficient for the acquirement of any thing, which a young child ought to learn in a day; and even these two hours should be interrupted by a relaxation of at least one-third of that time. Thus four different sets, or classes, of scholars might be sent daily to the same school, and for each class the present prices should be paid; so that the master might have his salary considerably increased, without giving up more of his time than he does at present.
The numerous schools for early education, that are establishing, or that are already established in the metropolis, and in all the large towns of England, will, if they be properly managed, leave little to be desired upon the subject of education, for children between the years of seven and twelve.
The active modes of instruction, which Bell and Lancaster have introduced, are fully as advantageous, as the low price of schooling; the children are prevented from drowsing over their lessons, and their little bodies are kept in some degree of motion. Certain petty mountebankisms will, by degrees, be laid aside; and the good sense of the excellent persons, who give not only their money, but their time, to the superintendence of such establishments, will soon improve whatever requires commendation.
A good system for infant management, as it relates to the temper, the habits of truth, industry, cleanliness, neatness, and to the forming children to habits of observation, reasoning, and good sense — objects of far greater consequence, than the mere teaching to read and write, or cast up accounts — remains still to be formed and executed. Such schools are wanting, both for the middling classes and for the lower classes of the people and I apprehend that they cannot well be formed any way so well as by actual experiment.
Ladies, who have leisure, may, in the country, make trials of whatever occurs to them on this subject. The occupations and plays, liberty and restraint rewards and punishments of children, in those little communities we call schools, may thus be examined and their respective excellence and defects may be compared; and in time, some general results will be established. —
For such an inquiry, next to a steady desire to be of service, patient attention, from day to day, is what must be most effectual.
These schools are what are commonly called dame schools.
A dame school, such as may prepare children for seminaries of a higher class, should, as much as possible, resemble a large private family, where the mistress may be considered as the mother. The children never should be out of the sight of their mistress, and their plays, as well as their tasks, should be equally an object of her care. And here, as in every other place of instruction, the hours, or rather the minutes, of labor, should be short, with frequent intermission; so that the habit of attention may, by degrees, be induced, and may, by reiteration, be fortified.
Much of that useful enthusiasm, which animates all classes of people to encourage schools for young children, is owing to the female sex. They have more immediate opportunities of seeing the necessity, and of appreciating the merit of such schools; their leisure permits them to inspect, more minutely, establishments of this sort; and their acquaintance with the early propensities and habits of children enable them to direct, successfully, their instruction; and it may be reasonably hoped, that, under their care, dame schools, with mistresses judiciously chosen, may be established whenever they are wanting. Another generation will reap the advantages of what has been begun in this; and teachers of both sexes, and of various degrees of information, will hereafter be procured with ease; and elementary schools will be established in every part of the United Kingdom.
R.L.E.
PART I.
Little children, who know the sounds of all letters, can read words, and can understand what is told in this book.
Harry was brother to Lucy, and Lucy was sister to Harry. Harry had just come home to his father’s house: he had been left at his uncle’s, when he was an infant, and had always lived at his uncle’s house.
Lucy lay in a little bed in a closet near her mother’s room; and Harry lay in a little bed in another closet.
Early in the morning, whilst Lucy was in bed, the sun shone through the window and awakened her; when she was quite awake, she knew it was morning, because it was daylight; and she called to her mother, and said, ‘Mamma, may I get up,’ But her mother did not answer her, for she did not hear what she said, because she was asleep. When Lucy knew that her mother was asleep, she lay still, that she might not disturb her, until she heard her mother stir; and then she asked her again if she might get up; and her mother said she might
So Lucy got up, and put on her stockings and shoes, and finished dressing herself, and then went to her mother, and asked for some breakfast. But her mother told her, that she must make her bed, before she could have any breakfast. Little Lucy began to make her bed, and her mother went into another closet to awaken Harry; and she said, Harry! get up! And Harry jumped out of bed in an instant, and put on his trousers, and his jacket, and his shoes; and then he combed his hair, and washed his hands; and whilst he was wiping his hands his mother went down stairs.
Little Lucy, hearing her brother Harry walking about in his closet, called him, and asked, if he had made his bed. Harry said he had not. O! then, says Lucy, mamma will give you no breakfast Yes, says Harry, she will: I never made my bed at my uncle’s, and I always had my breakfast.
As they were talking, he heard his father call him, and he ran down stairs to the parlour, where his father and mother were at breakfast; and her mother called Lucy down too, and said to her, Well, Lucy! have you made your bed neatly?
Lucy. Yes, mother, I have made it as well as I could.
Mother. You shall have some breakfast then.
His father asked Harry if he had made his bed. — Harry answered th
at he did not know how to make it. I will show you, said his mother; and taking him by the hand, she led him up stairs, and showed him how to make his bed.
When Harry came down to his father, he said that he did not know, that boys or men ever made beds; for at his uncle’s, nobody ever made beds but the housemaid.
His father told him, that, in some countries, the beds are made by men; and that in ships, which sail on the sea, and carry men from one country to another, the beds in which the sailors sleep are always made by men.
Lucy’s mother observed that she had breakfast, and asked her why she had not eaten it.
Lucy said that she waited for her brother. Her mother then gave Harry a basin of milk, and a large piece of bread; and she set a little table for him and his sister, under a shady tree, that was opposite to the open window of the room where she breakfasted.
Lucy was a good little girl, and had always minded what was said to her, and had been very attentive whenever her father or mother had taught her anything. So her mother had taught her to read and to work, and when she was six years old she could employ herself without being troublesome to any body: she could work for herself, and for her brother, and sometimes, when Lucy behaved very well, her mother let her do a little work for her, or for her father; and her mother had given her a little thimble, to put upon her finger, and a little housewife, to keep her needles and thread in, and a little pair of scissors to cut her thread with, and a little work-bag to keep her work in; and Lucy’s father had given her a little book, to read in, whenever she pleased, and she could read in it by herself, and understand all she read, and learn every thing that was in it.
Complete Novels of Maria Edgeworth Page 342