PRACTICAL EDUCATION: BY MARIA EDGEWORTH, AUTHOR OF LETTERS FOR LITERARY LADIES, AND THE PARENT'S ASSISTANT, &c. &c. AND, BY RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH, F. R. S. AND M. R. I. A. IN TWO VOLUMES . . . VOL. II. SECOND AMERICAN EDITION. PUBLISHED BY J. FRANCIS LIPPITT, PROVIDENCE, (R. I. ) AND T. B. WAIT & SONS, BOSTON. T. B. Wait and Sons, Printers. 1815. CONTENTS. Chapter Page XIII. _On Grammar and Classical Literature_ 5 XIV. _On Geography and Chronology_ 31 XV. _On Arithmetic_ 37 XVI. _Geometry_ 54 XVII. _On Mechanics_ 57 XVIII. _Chemistry_ 85 XIX. _On Public and Private Education_ 92 XX. _On Female Accomplishments, &c. _ 109 XXI. _Memory and Invention_ 138 XXII. _Taste and Imagination_ 178 XXIII. _Wit and Judgment_ 214 XXIV. _Prudence and Economy_ 248 XXV. _Summary_ 267 APPENDIX. _Notes, containing Conversations and Anecdotes of Children_ 283 PRACTICAL EDUCATION. CHAPTER XIII. ON GRAMMAR, AND CLASSICAL LITERATURE. As long as gentlemen feel a deficiency in their own education, whenthey have not a competent knowledge of the learned languages, so longmust a parent be anxious, that his son should not be exposed to themortification of appearing inferiour to others of his own rank. It isin vain to urge, that language is only the key to science; that thenames of things are not the things themselves; that many of the wordsin our own language convey scarcely any, or at best but imperfect, ideas; that the true genius, pronunciation, melody, and idiom ofGreek, are unknown to the best scholars, and that it cannot reasonablybe doubted, that if Homer or Xenophon were to hear their works read bya professor of Greek, they would mistake them for the sounds of anunknown language. All this is true; but it is not the ambition of agentleman to read Greek like an ancient Grecian, but to understand itas well as the generality of his contemporaries; to know whence theterms of most sciences are derived, and to be able, in some degree, totrace the progress of mankind in knowledge and refinement, byexamining the extent and combination of their different vocabularies. In some professions, Greek is necessary; in all, a certain proficiencyof Latin is indispensable; how, therefore, to acquire this proficiencyin the one, and a sufficient knowledge of the other, with the leastlabour, the least waste of time, and the least danger to theunderstanding, is the material question. Some school-masters wouldadd, that we must expedite the business as much as possible: of thiswe may be permitted to doubt. _Festina lente_ is one of the mostjudicious maxims in education, and those who have sufficient strengthof mind to adhere to it, will find themselves at the goal, when theircompetitors, after all their bustle, are panting for breath, orlashing their restive steeds. We see some untutored children startforward in learning with rapidity: they seem to acquire knowledge atthe very time it is wanted, as if by intuition; whilst others, withwhom infinite pains have been taken, continue in dull ignorance; or, having accumulated a mass of learning, are utterly at a loss how todisplay, or how to use their treasures. What is the reason of thisphenomenon? and to which class of children would a parent wish his sonto belong? In a certain number of years, after having spent eighthours a day in "durance vile, " by the influence of bodily fear, or bythe infliction of bodily punishment, a regiment of boys may be drilledby an indefatigable usher into what are called scholars; but, perhaps, in the whole regiment not one shall ever distinguish himself, or everemerge from the ranks. Can it be necessary to spend so many years, somany of the best years of life, in toil and misery? We shall calculatethe waste of time which arises from the study of ill written, absurdgrammar, and exercise-books; from the habits of idleness contracted byschool-boys, and from the custom of allowing holydays to youngstudents; and we shall compare the result of this calculation with thetime really necessary for the attainment of the same quantity ofclassical knowledge by rational methods. We do not enter into thiscomparison with any invidious intention, but simply to quiet theapprehensions of parents; to show them the possibility of theirchildren's attaining a certain portion of learning within a givennumber of years, without the sacrifice of health, happiness, or thegeneral powers of the understanding. At all events, may we not begin by imploring the assistance of someable and friendly hand to reform the present generation of grammarsand school-books? For instance, is it indispensably necessary that aboy of seven years old should learn by rote, that "relative sentencesare independent, _i. E. _ no word in a relative sentence is governedeither of verb, or adjective, that stands in another sentence, ordepends upon any appurtenances of the relative; and that the Englishword 'That' is always a relative when it may be turned into _which_ ingood sense, which must be tried by reading over the English sentence_warily_, and judging how the sentence will bear it, but when itcannot be altered, salvo sensu, it is a conjunction?" Cannot we, forpity's sake, to assist the learner's memory, and to improve hisintellect, substitute some sentences a little more connected, andperhaps a little more useful, than the following? "I have been a soldier--You have babbled--Has the crow ever lookedwhite?--Ye have exercised--Flowers have withered--We were in apassion--Ye lay down--Peas were parched--The lions did roar a whileago. " In a book of Latin exercises, [1] the preface to which informs us, that"it is intended to contain such precepts of morality and religion, asought most industriously to be inculcated into the heads of alllearners, contrived so as that children may, as it were, insensiblysuck in such principles as will be of use to them afterwards in themanly conduct and ordering of their lives, " we might expect somewhatmore of pure morality and sense, with rather more elegance of style, than appear in the following sentences: "I struck my sister with a stick, and was forced to flee into thewoods; but when I had tarried there awhile, I returned to my parents, and submitted myself to their mercy, and they forgave me my offence. " "When my dear mother, unknown to my father, shall send me money, Iwill pay my creditors their debts, and provide a supper for all myfriends in my chamber, without my brother's consent, and will makepresents to all my relations. " So the measure of maternal tenderness is the sum of money, which thedear mother, unknown to her husband, shall send to her son; themeasure of the son's generosity is the supper he is to give to all hisfriends in his chamber, exclusive of his poor brother, of whoseoffence we are ignorant. His munificence is to be displayed in makingpresents to all his relations, but in the mean time he might possiblyforget to pay his debts, for "justice is a slow-paced virtue, andcannot keep pace with generosity. " A reasonable notion of punishment, and a disinterested love of truth, is well introduced by the following picture. "My master's countenancewas greatly changed when he found his beloved son guilty of a lie. Sometimes he was pale with anger; sometimes he was red with rage; andin the mean time, he, poor boy, was trembling, (for what?) for fear ofpunishment. " Could the ideas of punishment and vengeance be moreeffectually joined, than in this portrait of the master red with rage?After truth has been thus happily recommended, comes honesty. "Manywere fellow-soldiers with valiant Jason when he stole the goldenfleece: many were companions with him, but he bore away the glory ofthe enterprise. " Valour, theft, and glory, are here happily combined. It will avail usnothing to observe, that the golden fleece has an allegorical meaning, unless we can explain satisfactorily the nature of an allegoricaltheft; though to our classical taste this valiant Jason may appear aglorious hero, yet to the simple judgment of children, he will appeara robber. It is fastidious, however, to object to Jason in theexercise-book, when we consider what children are to hear, and to hearwith admiration, as they advance in their study of poetry andmythology. Lessons of worldly wisdom, are not forgotten in our manual, whichprofesses to teach "_the manly conduct and ordering of life_" to therising generation. "Those men, " we are told, "who have the most money, obtain the greatest honour amongst men. " But then again, "a poor manis as happy without riches, _if_ he can enjoy contentedness of mind, as the richest earl that coveteth greater honour. " It may be useful toput young men upon their guard against hypocrites and knaves; but isit necessary to tell school-boys, that "it concerneth me, and all men, to look to ourselves, for the world is so full of knaves andhypocrites, that he is hard to be found who may be trusted?" That"they who behave themselves the most warily of all men, and live morewatchfully than others, may happen to do something, which (if it bedivulged) may very much damnify their reputation?" A knowledge of theworld may be early requisite; but is it not going too far, to assureyoung people, that "the nations of the world are at this time come tothat pass of wickedness, that the earth is like hell, and many menhave degenerated into devils?" A greater variety of ridiculous passages from this tenth edition ofGarretson's Exercise-book, might be selected for the reader'sentertainment; but the following specimens will be sufficient tosatisfy him, that by this original writer, natural history is as welltaught as morality: Man. "Man is a creature of an upright body; he walketh upright when heis on a journey; and when night approaches, he lieth flat, andsleepeth. " Horses. "A journey an hundred and fifty miles long, tireth an horsethat hath not had a moderate feed of corn. " Air, Earth, Fire, and Water. "The air is nearer the earth than thefire; but the water is placed nearest to the earth, because these twoelements compose but one body. " It is an easy task, it will be observed, to ridicule absurdity. It iseasy to pull down what has been ill built; but if we leave the ruinsfor others to stumble over, we do little good to society. Parents mayreasonably say, if you take away from our children the books theyhave, give them better. They are not yet to be had, but if a demandfor them be once excited, they will soon appear. Parents are nowconvinced, that the first books which children read, make a lastingimpression upon them; but they do not seem to consider spelling-books, and grammars, and exercise-books, as books, but only as tools fordifferent purposes: these tools are often very mischievous; if wecould improve them, we should get our work much better done. Thebarbarous translations, which are put as models for imitation into thehands of school-boys, teach them bad habits of speaking and writing, which are sometimes incurable. For instance, in the fourteenth editionof Clarke's Cornelius Nepos, which the preface informs us was writtenby a man full of indignation for the common practices ofgrammar-schools, by a man who laments that youth should spend theirtime "in tossing over the leaves of a dictionary, and hammering outsuch a language as the Latin, " we might expect some better translationthan the following, to form the young student's style: "No body ever heard any other entertainment for the ears at _his_(Atticus's) meals than a reader, which we truly think very pleasant. Nor was there ever a supper at his house without some reading, thattheir guests might be entertained in their minds as well as theirstomachs; _for_ he invited those whose manners were not different fromhis own. " "He (Atticus) likewise had a touch at poetry, that he might not beunacquainted with this pleasure, we suppose. _For_ he has related inverses the lives of those who excelled the Roman people in honour, andthe greatness of their exploits. _So_ that he has described under eachof their images, their actions and offices in no more than four orfive verses, _which_ is scarcely to be believed _that_ such greatthings could be so briefly delivered. " Those who, in reading these quotations, have perhaps exclaimed, "Whymust we go through this farrago of nonsense?" should reflect, thatthey have now wasted but a few minutes of their time upon whatchildren are doomed to study for hours and years. If a few pagesdisgust, what must be the effect of volumes in the same style! andwhat sort of writing can we expect from pupils who are condemned tosuch reading? The analogy of ancient and modern languages, differs somaterially, that a literal translation of any ancient author, canscarcely be tolerated. Yet, in general, young scholars are under anecessity of _rendering_ their Latin lessons into English word forword, faithful to the taste of their dictionaries, or the notes intheir translations. This is not likely to improve the freedom of theirEnglish style; or, what is of much more consequence, is it likely topreserve in the pupil's mind a taste for literature? It is not thetime that is spent in pouring over lexicons, it is not themultiplicity of rules learnt by rote, nor yet is it the quantity ofLatin words crammed into the memory, which can give the habit ofattention or the power of voluntary exertion: without these, you willnever have time enough to teach; with them, there will always be timeenough to learn. --One half hour's vigorous application, is worth awhole day's constrained and yawning study. If we compare what fromexperience we know can be done by a child of ordinary capacity in agiven time, with what he actually does in school-hours, we shall beconvinced of the enormous waste of time incident to the common methodsof instruction. Tutors are sensible of this; but they throw the blameupon their pupils--"You might have learned your lesson in half thetime, if you had chosen it. " The children also are sensible of this;but they are not able or willing to prevent the repetition of thereproach. But exertion does not always depend upon the will of theboy; it depends upon his previous habits, and upon the strength ofthe immediate motive which acts upon him. Some children of quickabilities, who have too much time allotted for their classicalstudies, are so fully sensible themselves of the pernicious effectthis has upon their activity of mind, that they frequently defer_getting their lessons_ to the last moment, that they may be forced bya sufficient motive to exert themselves. In _classes_ at publicschools, the quick and the slow, the active and indolent, thestumbling and sure-footed, are all yoked together, and are forced tokeep pace with one another: stupidity may sometimes be dragged alongby the vigour of genius; but genius is more frequently chained down bythe weight of stupidity. We are well aware of the difficulties withwhich the public preceptor has to contend; he is often compelled byhis situation to follow ancient usage, and to continue many customswhich he wishes to see reformed. Any reformation in the manner ofinstruction in these public seminaries, must be gradual, and willnecessarily follow the conviction that parents may feel of itsutility. Perhaps nothing can be immediately done, more practicablyuseful, than to simplify grammar, and to lighten as much as possiblethe load that is laid upon the memory. Without a multiplicity ofmasters, it would be impossible to suit instruction to the differentcapacities, and previous acquirements, of a variety of pupils; but ina private education, undoubtedly the task may be rendered much easierto the scholar and to the teacher; much jargon may be omitted; andwhat appears from want of explanation to be jargon, may be renderedintelligible by proper skill and attention. During the first lessonsin grammar, and in Latin, the pupil need not be disgusted withliterature, and we may apply all the principles which we find on otheroccasions successful in the management of the attention. [2] Instead ofkeeping the attention feebly obedient for an idle length of time, weshould fix if decidedly by some sufficient motive for as short aperiod as may be requisite to complete the work that we would havedone. As we apprehend, that even where children are to be sent toschool, it will be a great advantage to them to have some generalnotions of grammar, to lead them through the labyrinth of commonschool books, we think that we shall do the public preceptor anacceptable service, if we point out the means by which parents may, without much labour to themselves, render the first principles ofgrammar intelligible and familiar to their children. We may observe, that children pay the strictest attention to theanalogies of the language that they speak. Where verbs are defectiveor irregular, they supply the parts that are wanting with wonderfulfacility, according to the common form of other verbs. They make allverbs regular. I go_ed_, I read_ed_, I writ_ed_, &c. By a properapplication of this faculty, much time may be saved in teachingchildren grammar, much perplexity, and much of that ineffectual labourwhich stupifies and dispirits the understanding. By gentle degrees, achild may be taught the relations of words to each other in commonconversation, before he is presented with the first sample ofgrammatical eloquence in Lilly's Accidence. "There be eight parts ofspeech. " A phrase which in some parts of this kingdom would perhaps beunderstood, but which to the generality of boys who go to school, conveys no meaning, and is got by heart without reflection, andwithout advantage. A child can, however, be made to understand theseformidable parts of speech, if they are properly introduced to hisacquaintance: he can comprehend, that some of the words which he hearsexpress _that something is done_; he will readily perceive, that ifsomething is done, somebody, or something must do it: he willdistinguish with much facility the word in any common sentence whichexpresses an action, and that which denotes the agent. Let the readertry the experiment immediately upon any child of six or seven yearsold who has _not_ learned grammar, and he may easily ascertain thefact. A few months ago, Mr. ---- gave his little daughter H----, a child offive years old, her first lesson in English grammar; but no alarmingbook of grammar was produced upon the occasion, nor did the father puton an unpropitious gravity of countenance. He explained to the smilingchild the nature of a verb, a pronoun, and a substantive. Then he spoke a short familiar sentence, and asked H----, to try ifshe could find out which word in it was a verb, which a pronoun, andwhich a substantive. The little girl found them all out mostsuccessfully, and formed no painful associations with her firstgrammatical lesson. But though our pupil may easily understand, hewill easily forget our first explanations; but provided he understandsthem at the moment, we should pardon his forgetfulness, and we shouldpatiently repeat the same exercise several days successively; a fewminutes at each lesson will be sufficient, and the simplest sentences, such as children speak themselves, will be the best examples. Mr. ----, after having talked four or five times, for a few minutes at atime, with his son S----, when S---- was between five and six yearsold, about grammar, asked him if he knew what a pronoun meant? The boyanswered, "A word that is said instead of a substantive. " As thesewords might have been merely remembered by rote, the father questionedhis pupil further, and asked him to name any pronoun that herecollected. S----immediately said, "_I_ a pronoun. " "Name another, "said his father. The boy answered after some pause, as if he doubtedwhether it was or was not a pronoun, _A_. Now it would have been veryimprudent to have made a sudden exclamation at the child's mistake. The father, without showing any surprise, gently answered, "No, mydear, _a_ does not stand in the place of any substantive. We say _aman_, but the word _a_ does not mean a _man_, when it is said byitself--Does it?" _S----. _ No. _Father. _ Then try if you can find out a word that does. _S----. _ He, and _Sir_. _Sir_ does stand, in conversation, in the place of a man, orgentleman; therefore the boy, even by this mistake, showed that he hadformed, from the definition that had been given to him, a general ideaof the nature of a pronoun, and at all events he exercised hisunderstanding upon the affair, which is the principal point we oughtto have in view. An interjection is a part of speech familiar to children. Mr. HorneTooke is bitter in his contempt for it, and will scarcely admit itinto civilized company. "The brutish inarticulate interjection, whichhas nothing to do with speech, and is only the miserable refuge of thespeechless, has been permitted to usurp a place amongst words, &c. "--"The neighing of a horse, the lowing of a cow, the barking of adog, the purring of a cat; sneezing, coughing, groaning, shrieking, and every other involuntary convulsion with oral sound, have almost asgood a title to be called parts of speech, as interjections have. " Mr. Horne Tooke would have been pleased with the sagacity of a childof five years old (S----) who called _laughing_ an interjection. Mr. ---- gave S----a slight pinch, in order to produce "an involuntaryconvulsion with oral sound. " And when the interjection Oh! was utteredby the boy, he was told by his father, that the word was aninterjection; and, that "any word or noise, that expresses a suddenfeeling of the mind, may be called an interjection. " S----immediatelysaid, "is laughing an interjection, then?" We hope that the candidreader will not imagine, that we produce these _sayings_ of childrenof four or five years old, without some sense of the danger ofridicule; but we wish to give some idea of the sort of simple answerswhich children are likely to make in their first grammatical lessons. If too much is expected from them, the disappointment, which must bequickly felt, and will be quickly shown by the preceptor, willdiscourage the pupil. We must repeat, that the first steps should befrequently retraced: a child should be _for some weeks_ accustomed todistinguish an active verb, and its agent, or nominative case, fromevery other word in a sentence, before we attempt to advance. Theobjects of actions are the next class of words that should beselected. The fanciful, or at least what appears to the moderns fanciful, arrangement of the cases amongst grammarians, may be dispensed withfor the present. The idea, that the nominative is a direct, upright_case_, and that the genitive declines with the smallest obliquityfrom it; the dative, accusative, and ablative, falling further andfurther from the perpendicularity of speech, is a species ofmetaphysics not very edifying to a child. Into what absurdity men ofabilities may be led by the desire of explaining what they do notsufficiently understand, is fully exemplified in other sciences aswell as grammar. The discoveries made by the author of Epea Pteroenta, show thedifference between a vain attempt to substitute analogy and rhetoricin the place of demonstration and common sense. When a child has beenpatiently taught in conversation to analyze what he says, he will takegreat pleasure in the exercise of his new talent; he will soondiscover, that the cause of the action does not always come before theverb in a sentence, that sometimes it follows the verb. "John beatsThomas, " and "Thomas is beaten by John, " he will perceive mean thesame thing; he may, with very little difficulty, be taught thedifference between a verb active and a verb passive; that one bringsfirst before the mind the person or thing which performs the action, and the other represents in the first place the person or thing uponwhom the action is performed. A child of moderate capacity, after hehas been familiarized to this general idea of a verb active andpassive, and after he has been taught the names of the cases, willprobably, without much difficulty, discover that the nominative caseto a passive verb becomes the accusative case to a verb active. "School-masters are plagued by boys. " A child sees plainly, thatschool-masters are the persons upon whom the action of plaguing isperformed, and he will convert the sentence readily into "boys plagueschool-masters. " We need not, however, be in any hurry to teach our pupil the names ofthe cases; technical grammar may be easily learned, after a generalidea of rational grammar has been obtained. For instance, _the verb_means only _the word_, or the principal word in a sentence; a childcan easily learn this after he has learnt what is meant by a sentence;but it would be extremely difficult to make him comprehend it beforehe could distinguish a verb from a noun, and before he had any idea ofthe structure of a common sentence. From easy, we should proceed tomore complicated, sentences. The grammatical construction of thefollowing lines, for example, may not be immediately apparent to achild: "What modes of sight between each vast extreme, The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam; Of smell the headlong lioness between, And hound sagacious on the tainted green. " "_Of Smell. _" A girl of ten years old (C----) was asked if she couldtell what substantive the word "_of_" relates to; she readilyanswered, "_modes_. " C----had learned a general idea of grammar inconversation, in the manner which we have described. It is assertedfrom experience, that this method of instructing children in grammarby conversation, is not only practicable, but perfectly easy, and thatthe minds of children are adapted to this species of knowledge. Duringlife, we learn with eagerness whatever is congenial with our presentpursuits, and the acquisition of language is one of the most earnestoccupations of childhood. After distinct and ready knowledge of theverb and nominative case has been acquired, the pupil should be taughtto distinguish the object of an action, or, in other words, theobjective or accusative case. He should be exercised in this, as inthe former lessons, repeatedly, until it becomes perfectly familiar;and he should be encouraged to converse about these lessons, and tomake his own observations concerning grammar, without fear of thepreceptor's peremptory frown, or positive reference to "_his rules_. "A child of five years old, was asked what the word "_Here!_" meant; heanswered, "It means to give a thing. " "When I call a person, as, John! John! it seems to me, " said a boy ofnine years old (S----) "it seems to me, that the vocative case is boththe verb and its accusative case. " A boy who had ever been checked byhis tutor for making his own observations upon the mysterious subjectof grammar, would never have dared to have thought, or to have uttereda new thought, so freely. --Forcing children to learn any art orscience by rote, without permitting the exercise of the understanding, must materially injure their powers both of reasoning and ofinvention. We acknowledge that Wilkins and Tooke have shown mastershow to teach grammar a little better than it was formerly taught. Fortunately for the rising generation, all the words under thedenomination of adverbs, prepositions, and conjunctions, which wereabsolute nonsense to us, may be easily explained to them, and thecommencement of instruction need no longer lay the foundation ofimplicit acquiescence in nonsense. We refer to Mr. Horne Tooke's "EpeaPteroenta, " forbearing to dilate upon the principles of his work, lestwe should appear in the invidious light of authors who rob the worksof others to adorn their own. We cannot help expressing a wish, thatMr. Horne Tooke would have the philanthropic patience to write anelementary work in a _simple style_, unfolding his grammaticaldiscoveries to the rising generation. When children have thus by gentle degrees, and by short and clearconversations, been initiated in general grammar, and familiarized toits technical terms, the first page of tremendous Lilly will lose muchof its horror. It has been taken for granted, that at the age ofwhich we have been speaking, a child can read English tolerably well, and that he has been used to employ a dictionary. He may now proceedto translate from some easy books a few short sentences: the firstword will probably be an adverb or conjunction; either of them mayreadily be found in the Latin dictionary, and the young scholar willexult in having translated one word of Latin; but the next word, asubstantive or verb, perhaps will elude his search. Now the grammarmay be produced, and something of the various terminations of a nounmay be explained. If _musam_ be searched for in the dictionary, itcannot be found, but _musa_ catches the eye, and, with the assistanceof the grammar, it may be shown, that the meaning of words may bediscovered by the united helps of the dictionary and grammar. Aftersome days patient continuation of this exercise, the use of thegrammar, and of its uncouth collection of words and syllables, will beapparent to the pupil: he will perceive that the grammar is a sort ofappendix to the dictionary. The grammatical formulæ may then, bygentle degrees, be committed to memory, and when once got by heart, should be assiduously preserved in the recollection. After thepreparation which we have recommended, the singular number of adeclension will be learnt in a few minutes by a child of ordinarycapacity, and after two or three days repetition, the plural numbermay be added. The whole of the first declension should be well fixedin the memory before a second is attempted. During this process, a fewwords at every lesson may be translated from Latin to English, andsuch nouns as are of the first declension, may be compared with_musa_, and may be declined according to the same form. Tedious asthis method may appear, it will in the end be found expeditious. Omitting some of the theoretic or didactic part of the grammar, whichshould only be read, and which may be explained with care andpatience, the whole of the declensions, pronouns, conjugations, thelist of prepositions and conjunctions, interjections, some adverbs, the concords, and common rules of syntax, may be comprised withsufficient repetitions in about two or three hundred lessons of tenminutes each; that is to say, ten minutes application of the scholarin the presence of the teacher. A young boy should never be set tolearn a lesson by heart when alone. Forty hours! Is this tedious? Ifyou are afraid of losing time, begin a few months earlier; but beginwhen you will, forty hours is surely no great waste of time: thewhole, or even half of this short time, is not spent in the labour ofgetting jargon by rote; each day some slight advance is made in theknowledge of words, and in the knowledge of their combinations. Whatwe insist upon is, that _nothing should be done to disgust the pupil_:steady perseverance, with uniform gentleness, will induce habit, andnothing should ever interrupt the regular return of the daily lesson. If absence, business, illness, or any other cause, prevent theattendance of the teacher, a substitute must be appointed; the idea ofrelaxation on Sunday, or a holyday, should never be permitted. In mostpublic seminaries above one third, in some nearly one half, of theyear is permitted to idleness: it is the comparison between severelabour and dissipation, that renders learning hateful. Johnson is made to say by one of his female biographers, [3] that nochild loves the person who teaches him Latin; yet the author of thischapter would not take all the doctor's fame, and all the lady's witand riches, in exchange for the hourly, unfeigned, unremittingfriendship, which he enjoys with a son who had no other master thanhis father. So far from being laborious or troublesome, he has foundit an agreeable employment to instruct his children in grammar and thelearned languages. In the midst of a variety of other occupations, half an hour every morning for many years, during the time ofdressing, has been allotted to the instruction of boys of differentages in languages, and no other time has been spent in thisemployment. Were it asserted that these boys made _a reasonableprogress_, the expression would convey no distinct meaning to thereader; we shall, therefore, mention an experiment tried this morning, November 8th, 1796, to ascertain the progress of one of these pupils. Without previous study, he translated twenty lines of the story ofCeyx and Alcyone, from Ovid, consulting the dictionary only twice: hewas then desired to translate the passage which he had read intoEnglish verse; and in two or three hours he produced the followingversion. Much of the time was spent in copying the lines fairly, asthis opportunity was taken of exciting his attention to writing andspelling, to associate the habit of application with the pleasure ofvoluntary exertion. The _curious_ may, if they think it worth theirwhile, see the various _readings_ and corrections of the translation(V. Chapter on Conversation, and Anecdotes of Children) which werecarefully preserved, not as "_Curiosities of Literature_, " but for thesake of truth, and with a desire to show, that the pupil had thepatience to correct. A _genius_ may hit off a few tolerable lines; butif a child is willing and able to criticise and correct what hewrites, he shows that he selects his expressions from choice, and notfrom chance or imitation; and he gives to a judicious tutor thecertain promise of future improvement. "Far in a vale there lies a cave forlorn, Which Phoebus never enters eve or morn, The misty clouds inhale the pitchy ground, And twilight lingers all the vale around. No watchful cocks Aurora's beams invite; No dogs nor geese, the guardians of the night: No flocks nor herds disturb the silent plains; Within the sacred walls mute quiet reigns, And murmuring Lethe soothing sleep invites; In dreams again the flying past delights: From milky flowers that near the cavern grow, Night scatters the collected sleep below. " S----, the boy who made this translation, was just ten years old; hehad made but three previous attempts in versification; his reading inpoetry had been some of Gay's fables, parts of the Minstrel, threeodes of Gray, the Elegy in a Country Church-yard, the Tears of OldMay-day, and parts of the second volume of Dr. Darwin's BotannicGarden; Dryden's translations of the fable of Ceyx and Alcyone he hadnever seen; the book had always been locked up. Phædrus and Ovid'sMetamorphoses were the whole of his Latin erudition. Thesecircumstances are mentioned thus minutely, to afford the inquisitiveteacher materials for an accurate estimate of the progress made by ourmethod of instruction. Perhaps most boys of S----'s age, in our greatpublic seminaries, would, upon a similar trial, be found superior. Competition in the art of translation is not our object; our object isto show, that half an hour a day, steadily appropriated to grammar andLatin, would be sufficient to secure a boy of this age, from anydanger of ignorance in classical learning; and that the ease andshortness of his labour will prevent that disgust, which is too ofteninduced by forced and incessant application. We may add, that someattention to the _manner_ in which the pupils repeat their Latinlessons, has been found advantageous: as they were never put in bodilyfear, by the impatience of a pedagogue, they had leisure andinclination to read and recite, without awkward gestures anddiscordant tones. The whining tones and convulsive gestures oftencontracted by boys during the agony of repeating their long lessons, are not likely to be advantageous to the rising generation of orators. Practice, and the strong motive of emulation, may, in a publicseminary, conquer these bad habits. After the pupil has learned tospeak ill, he _may_ be taught to speak well; but the chances areagainst him: and why should we have the trouble of breaking badhabits? It is much easier to prevent them. In private education, asthe preceptor has less chance of curing his pupil of the habit ofspeaking ill, he should be peculiarly attentive to give the childconstant habits of speaking and reading well. It is astonishing, thatparents, who are extremely intent upon the education of theirchildren, should overlook some of the essential means of success. Ayoung man with his head full of Latin and law, will make but a poorfigure at the bar, or in parliament, if he cannot enunciatedistinctly, and if he cannot speak good English extempore, or producehis learning and arguments with grace and propriety. It is in vain toexpect that a boy should speak well in public, who cannot, in commonconversation, utter three connected sentences without a false concordor a provincial idiom; he may be taught with much care and cost tospeak _tripod_ sentences;[4] but bring the young orator to the test, bring him to actual business, rouse any of his passions, throw him offhis guard, and then listen to his language; he will forget instantlyhis reading master, and all his rules of pronunciation and rhetoric, and he will speak the language to which he has been most accustomed. No master will then be near him to regulate the pitch and tones of hisvoice. We cannot believe that even Caius Gracchus could, when he waswarmed by passion, have listened to Licinius's pitch-pipe. [5] Example, and constant attention to their manner of speaking in commonconversation, we apprehend to be the most certain methods of preparingyoung men for public speakers. Much of the time that is spent inteaching boys to walk upon stilts, might be more advantageouslyemployed in teaching them to walk well without them. It is all verywell whilst the pupil is under the protection of his preceptor. Theactor on the stage is admired whilst he is elevated by the cothurnus;but young men are not to exhibit their oratorical talents always withthe advantages of stage effect and decorations. We should imagine, that much of the diffidence felt by young men of abilities, when theyfirst rise to speak in public, may be attributed to their immediateperception of the difference between scholastic exhibitions and thereal business of life; they feel that they have learned to speak twolanguages, which must not, on any account, be mixed together; the one, the vulgar language of common conversation; the other, the refinedlanguage of oratorical composition: the first they are most inclinedto use when they are agitated; and they are agitated when they rise tospeak before numbers: consequently there is an immediate strugglebetween custom and institution. Now, a young man, who in commonconversation in his own family has never been accustomed to hear or tospeak vulgar or ungrammatical language, cannot possibly apprehend thathe shall suddenly utter ridiculous expressions; he knows, that, if hespeaks at all, he shall at least speak good English; and he is notafraid, that, if he is pursued, he shall be obliged to throw away hiscumbrous stilts. The practice of speaking in public, we are sensible, is a great advantage; but the habit of speaking accurately in private, is of still greater consequence: this habit depends upon the early andpersevering care of the parent and the preceptor. There is no reasonwhy children should not be made at the same time good scholars andgood speakers; nor is there any reason why boys, whilst they learn towrite Latin, should be suffered to forget how to write English. It would be a great advantage to the young classical scholar, if hisLatin and English literature were mixed; the taste for ancient authorsand for modern literature, ought to be cultivated at the same time;and the beauties of composition, characteristic of differentlanguages, should be familiarized to the student. Classical knowledgeand taste afford such continual and innocent sources of amusement, that we should be extremely sorry that any of our pupils should notenjoy them in their fullest extent; but we do not include a talent forLatin composition amongst the _necessary_ accomplishments of agentleman. There are situations in life, where facility and elegancein writing Latin may be useful, but such situations are not common;when a young man is intended for them, he may be trained with moreparticular assiduity to this art; perhaps for this purpose the trueBusbyean method is the best. The great Latin and Greek scholars of theage, have no reason to be displeased by the assertion, that classicalproficiency equal to their own, is not a _necessary_ accomplishment ina gentleman; if their learning become more rare, it may thence becomemore valuable. We see no reason why there should not be Latinists aswell as special pleaders. We have not laid down any course of classical study; those whoconsider the order in which certain authors are read, as of materialconsequence in the education of scholars, may consult Milton, Mrs. Macaulay, "Milne's Well-bred Scholar, " &c. Where they will findprecise directions. We have _lately_ seen a collection of exercises for boys, [6] which insome measure supplies the defect of Mr. Garretson's curiousperformance. We wish most earnestly that dictionaries were improved. The author of "Stemmata Latinitatis, " has conferred an essentialservice on the public; but still there is wanting a dictionary forschools, in which elegant and proper English might be substituted forthe barbarous translations now in use. Such a dictionary could not becompiled, we should think, without an attention to the course of booksthat are most commonly used in schools. The first meanings given inthe dictionary, should suit the first authors that a boy reads; thismay probably be a remote or metaphoric meaning: then the radical wordshould be mentioned, and it would not cost a master any great troubleto trace the genealogy of words to the parent stock. Cordery is a collection of such mean sentences, and uninstructivedialogue, as to be totally unfit for boys. Commenius's "Visible Worlddisplayed, " is far superior, and might, with proper alterations andbetter prints, become a valuable _English_ school-book. Both thesebooks were intended for countries where the Latin language wascommonly spoken, and consequently they are filled with the termsnecessary for domestic life and conversation: for this very reasonthey are not good introductions to the classics. Selections fromBailey's Phædrus, will be proper for young beginners, upon account ofthe glossary. We prefer this mode of assisting them with glossaries tothe use of translations, because they do not induce indolent habits, and yet they prevent the pupil from having unnecessary labour. Translations always give the pupil more trouble in the end, than theysave in the beginning. The glossary to Bailey's Phædrus, which we havejust mentioned, wants much to be modernized, and the language requiresto be improved. Mr. Valpy's "Select Sentences, " would be much moreuseful if they had a glossary annexed. As they are, they will, however, be useful after Phædrus. Ovid's Metamorphoses, with all itsmonstrous faults, appears to be the best introduction to the Latinclassics, and to heathen mythology. Norris's Ovid may be safely putinto the hands of children, as it is a selection of the leastexceptionable fables. To accustom boys to read poetry and prose nearlyat the same period, is advantageous. Cornelius Nepos, a _crabbed_book, but useful from its brevity, and from its being a properintroduction to Grecian and Roman history, may be read nearly at thesame time with Ovid's Metamorphoses. After Ovid, the pupil may beginVirgil, postponing some of the Eclogues, and all the Georgics. We recommend that some English books should be put into the hands ofboys whilst they are going through Phædrus, Ovid, and Cornelius Nepos, which may suit with the ideas they acquire from these Latin authors. Plutarch's Lives, for instance, will be useful and interesting. Whenwe mention Plutarch's Lives, we cannot help recollecting how manygreat people have acknowledged the effect of this book in their earlyeducation. Charles the Twelfth, Rousseau, Madame Roland, Gibbon, weimmediately remember, and we are sure we have noticed many others. Anabridgment of Plutarch, by Mrs. Helme, which we have looked into, appears (the preface excepted) to be well written; and we see anotherabridgment of Plutarch advertised, which we hope may proveserviceable: good prints to a Plutarch for children, would be verydesirable. As an English introduction to mythology, we recommend the first volumeof Lord Chesterfield's Letters, as a most elegant view of heathenmythology. But if there be any danger that the first volume shouldintroduce the remainder of Lord Chesterfield's work to theinexperienced reader, we should certainly forbear the experiment: itwould be far better for a young man never to be acquainted with asingle heathen deity, than to purchase Lord Chesterfield's classicalknowledge at the hazard of contamination from his detestable system ofmorals. Without his Lordship's assistance, Mrs. Monsigny's Mythologycan _properly_ initiate the young pupil of either sex into themysteries of ancient fables. The notes to Potter's Æschylus, are alsowell suited to our purpose. In Dr. Darwin's "Botanic Garden, " thereare some beautiful poetic allusions to ancient gems and ancientfables, which must fix themselves in the memory or in the imaginationof the pupil. The sooner they are read, the better; we have felt theadvantage of putting them into the hands of a boy of nine or ten yearsold. The ear should be formed to English as well as to Latin poetry. Classical poetry, without the knowledge of mythology, isunintelligible: if children study the one, they must learn the other. Divested of the charms of poetry, and considered without classicalprepossession, mythology presents a system of crimes and absurdities, which no allegorical, metaphysical, or literal interpreters of moderntimes, can perfectly reconcile to common sense, or common morality;but our poets have naturalized ancient fables, so that mythology isbecome essential even to modern literature. The associations of taste, though arbitrary, are not easily changed in a nation whose literaturehas attained to a certain pitch of refinement, and whose criticaljudgments must consequently have been for some generationstraditional. There are subjects of popular allusion, which poets andorators regard as common property; to dispossess them of these, seemsimpracticable, after time has sanctioned the prescriptive right. Butnew knowledge, and the cultivation of new sciences, present objects ofpoetic allusion which, skilfully managed by men of inventive genius, will oppose to the habitual reverence for antiquity, the charms ofnovelty united to the voice of philosophy. [7] In education we must, however, consider the actual state of manners inthat world in which our pupils are to live, as well as our wishes orour hopes of its gradual improvement. [8] With a little care, preceptors may manage so as to teach mythology without in the leastinjuring their pupils. Children may be familiarized to the strangemanners and strange personages of ancient fable, and may consider themas a set of beings who are not to be judged by any rules of morality, and who have nothing in common with ourselves. The caricatura of someof the passions, perhaps, will not shock children who are not used totheir natural appearance; they will pass over the stories of love andjealousy, merely because they do not understand them. We should ratherleave them completely unintelligible, than attempt, like Mr. Riley, inhis mythological pocket dictionary for youth, to elucidate the wholeat once, by assuring children that Saturn was Adam, that Atlas isMoses, and his brother Hesperus, Aaron; that Vertumnus and Pomona wereBoaz and Ruth; that Mars _corresponds_ with Joshua; that Apollo_accords_ with David, since they both played upon the harp; thatMercury can be no other than our Archangel Michael, since they bothhave wings on their arms and feet; that, in short, to complete theconcordance, Momus is a striking likeness of Satan. The ancients, Mr. Riley allows, have so much disfigured these personages, that it ishard to know many of the portraits again at first sight; however, heis persuaded that "the young student will find a peculiargratification in tracing the likeness, " and he has kindly furnished uswith a catalogue to explain the exhibition, and to guide us throughhis new pantheon. As books of reference, the convenient size, and compressedinformation, of _pocket_ mythological dictionaries, will recommendthem to general use; but we object to the miserable prints with whichthey are sometimes disgraced. The first impression made upon theimagination[9] of children, is of the utmost consequence to theirfuture taste. The beautiful engravings[10] in Spence's Polymetis, willintroduce the heathen deities in their most graceful and picturesqueforms to the fancy. The language of Spence, though classical, is notentirely free from pedantic affectation, and his dialogues are, perhaps, too stiff and long winded for our young pupils. But a parentor preceptor can easily select the useful explanations; and inturning over the prints, they can easily associate some generalnotion of the history and attributes of the gods and goddesses withtheir forms: the little eager spectators will, as they crowd round thebook, acquire imperceptibly all the necessary knowledge of mythology, imbibe the first pleasing ideas of taste, and store their imaginationwith classic imagery. The same precautions that are necessary toeducate the eye, are also necessary to form the ear and understandingof taste. The first mythological descriptions which our pupils read, should be the best in their kind. Compare the following account ofEuropa in a pocket dictionary, with her figure in a poeticalgem--"Europa, the daughter of Agenor, king of the Phoenicians, andsister of Cadmus. This princess was so beautiful, that, they say, oneof the companions of Juno had robbed her of a pot of paint to bestowon this lady, which rendered her so handsome. She was beloved ofJupiter, who assumed the shape of a bull to run away with her, swamover the sea with her on his back, and carried her into that part ofthe world now called Europe, from her name. " So far the dictionary;now for the poet. "Now lows a milk-white bull on Afric's strand, And crops with dancing head the daisy'd land; With rosy wreathes Europa's hand adorns His fringed forehead and his pearly horns; Light on his back the sportive damsel bounds, And, pleas'd, he moves along the flowery grounds; Bears with slow step his beauteous prize aloof, Dips in the lucid flood his ivory hoof; Then wets his velvet knees, and wading laves His silky sides, amid the dimpling waves. While her fond train with beckoning hands deplore, Strain their blue eyes, and shriek along the shore: Beneath her robe she draws her snowy feet, And, half reclining on her ermine seat, Round his rais'd neck her radiant arms she throws, And rests her fair cheek on his curled brows; Her yellow tresses wave on wanton gales, And high in air her azure mantle sails. "[11] FOOTNOTES: [1] Garretson's Exercises, the tenth edition. [2] V. Chapter on Attention. [3] Mrs. Piozzi. [4] V. Blair. [5] V. Plutarch. [6] Valpy's Exercises. [7] V. Darwin's Poetry. [8] Since the above was written, we have seen a letter from Dr. Aikinto his son on the _morality_ and _poetic merit_ of the fable of Circe, which convinces us that the observations that we have hazarded are notpremature. [9] Chapter on Imagination. [10] We speak of these engravings as _beautiful_, for the times inwhich they were done; modern artists have arrived at higherperfection. [11] Darwin. V. Botanic Garden. CHAPTER XIV. ON GEOGRAPHY AND CHRONOLOGY. The usual manner of teaching Geography and Chronology, may, perhaps, be necessary in public seminaries, where a number of boys are to learnthe same thing at the same time; but what is learned in this manner, is not permanent; something besides merely committing names and datesto the memory, is requisite to make a useful impression upon thememory. For the truth of this observation, an appeal is made to thereader. Let him recollect, whether the Geography and Chronology whichhe learned whilst a boy, are what he now remembers--Whether he has notobtained his present knowledge from other sources than the tasks ofearly years. When business, or conversation, calls upon us to furnishfacts accurate as to place and time, we retrace our formerheterogeneous acquirements, and select those circumstances which areconnected with our present pursuit, and thus we form, as it were, anucleus round which other facts insensibly arrange themselves. Perhapsno two men in the world, who are well versed in these studies, connecttheir knowledge in the same manner. Relation to some particularcountry, some favourite history, some distinguished person, forms theconnection which guides our recollection, and which arranges ourincreasing nomenclature. By attending to what passes in our own minds, we may learn an effectual method of teaching without pain, and withoutany extraordinary burden to the memory, all that is useful of thesesciences. The details of history should be marked by a fewchronological æras, and by a few general ideas of geography. Whenthese have been once completely associated in the mind, there islittle danger of their being ever disunited: the sight of any countrywill recall its history, and even from representations in a map, or onthe globe, when the mind is wakened by any recent event, a long trainof concomitant ideas will recur. The use of technical helps to the memory, has been condemned by many, and certainly, when they are employed as artifices to supply the placeof real knowledge, they are contemptible; but when they are used asindexes to facts that have been really collected in the mind; whenthey serve to arrange the materials of knowledge in appropriateclasses, and to give a sure and rapid clue to recollection, they areof real advantage to the understanding. Indeed, they are now socommon, that pretenders cannot build the slightest reputation upontheir foundation. Were an orator to attempt a display of longchronological accuracy, he might be wofully confounded by hisopponent's applying at the first pause, [12]Els_luk_ he would have said! Ample materials are furnished in Gray's Memoria Technica, from which ashort and useful selection may be made, according to the purposeswhich are in view. For children, the little ballad of the Chapter ofKings, will not be found beneath the notice of mothers who attend toeducation. If the technical terminations of Gray are inserted, theywill never be forgotten, or may be easily recalled. [13] We scarcelyever forget a ballad if the tune is popular. For pupils at a more advanced age, it will be found advantageous toemploy technical helps of a more scientific construction. Priestley'sChart of Biography may, from time to time, be hung in their view. Smaller charts, upon the same plan, might be provided with a few namesas land-marks; these may be filled up by the pupil with such names ashe selects from history; they may be bound in octavo, like maps, bythe middle, so as to unfold both ways--Thirty-nine inches by nine willbe a convenient size. Prints, maps, and medals, which are part of theconstant furniture of a room, are seldom attended to by young people;but when circumstances excite an interest upon any particular subject, then is the moment to produce the symbols which record and communicateknowledge. Mrs. Radcliffe, in her judicious and picturesque Tour through Germany, tells us, that in passing through the apartments of a palace which thearchduchess Maria Christiana, the sister of the late unfortunate queenof France, had left a few hours before, she saw spread upon a table amap of all the countries then included in the seat of the war. Thepositions of the several corps of the allied armies were marked uponthis chart with small pieces of various coloured wax. Can it bedoubted, that the strong interest which this princess must have takenin the subject, would for ever impress upon her memory the geographyof this part of the world? How many people are there who have become geographers since thebeginning of the present war. Even the common newspapers disseminatethis species of knowledge, and those who scarcely knew the situationof Brest harbour a few years ago, have consulted the map with thateagerness which approaching danger excites; they consequently willtenaciously remember all the geographical knowledge they have thusacquired. The art of creating an interest in the study of geography, depends upon the dexterity with which passing circumstances are seizedby a preceptor in conversation. What are maps or medals, statues orpictures, but technical helps to memory? If a mother possess goodprints, or casts of ancient gems, let them be shown to any persons oftaste and knowledge who visit her; their attention leads that of ourpupils; imitation and sympathy are the parents of taste, and tastereads in the monuments of art whatever history has recorded. In the Adele and Theodore of Madame de Silleri, a number ofadventitious helps are described for teaching history and chronology. There can be no doubt that these are useful; and although such anapparatus cannot be procured by private families, fortunately theprint-shops of every provincial town, and of the capital inparticular, furnish even to the passenger a continual succession ofinstruction. Might not prints, assorted for the purposes which we havementioned, be _lent_ at circulating libraries? To assist our pupils in geography, we prefer a globe to common maps. Might not a cheap, portable, and convenient globe, be made of oiledsilk, to be inflated by a common pair of bellows? Mathematicalexactness is not requisite for our purpose, and though we could notpretend to the precision of our best globes, yet a balloon of thissort would compensate by its size and convenience for its inaccuracy. It might be hung by a line from its north pole, to a hook screwed intothe horizontal architrave of a door or window; and another string fromits south pole might be fastened at a proper angle to the floor, togive the requisite elevation to the axis of the globe. An idea of thedifferent projections of the sphere, may be easily acquired from thisglobe in its flaccid state, and any part of it might be consulted as amap, if it were laid upon a convex board of a convenient size. Impressions from the plates which are used for common globes, might betaken to try this idea without any great trouble or expense; but wewish to employ a much larger scale, and to have them five or six feetdiameter. The inside of a globe of this sort might be easilyilluminated, and this would add much to the novelty and beauty of itsappearance. In the country, with the assistance of a common carpenter andplasterer, a large globe of lath and plaster may be made for theinstruction and entertainment of a numerous family of children. Uponthis they should leisurely delineate from time to time, by their givenlatitudes and longitudes, such places as they become acquainted within reading or conversation. The capital city, for instance, of thedifferent countries of Europe, the rivers, and the neighbouring towns, until at last the outline might be added: for the sake of convenience, the lines, &c. May be first delineated upon a piece of paper, fromwhich they may be accurately transferred to their proper places on theglobe, by the intervention of black-leaded paper, or by pricking thelines through the paper, and pouncing powdered blue through the holesupon the surface of the globe. We enter into this detail because we are convinced, that everyaddition to the active manual employment of children, is ofconsequence, not only to their improvement, but to their happiness. Another invention has occurred to us for teaching geography andhistory together. Priestley's Chart of History, though constructedwith great ingenuity, does not invite the attention of young people:there is an intricacy in the detail which is not obvious at first. Toremedy what appears to us a difficulty, we propose that eight andtwenty, or perhaps thirty, octavo maps of the globe should beengraved; upon these should be traced, in succession, the differentsituations of the different countries of the world, as to power andextent, during each respective century: different colours might denotethe principal divisions of the world in each of these maps; the samecolour always denoting the same country, with the addition of onestrong colour; red, for instance, to distinguish that country whichhad at each period the principal dominion. On the upper and lowermargin in these maps, the names of illustrious persons might beengraven in the manner of the biographical chart; and the reigningopinions of each century should also be inserted. Thus history, chronology, and geography, would appear at once to the eye in theirproper order, and regular succession, divided into centuries andperiods, which easily occur to recollection. We forbear to expatiate upon this subject, as it has not been actuallysubmitted to experiment; carefully avoiding in the whole of this workto recommend any mode of instruction which we have not actually put inpractice. For this reason, we have not spoken of the abbé Gaultier'smethod of teaching geography, as we have only been able to obtainaccounts of it from the public papers, and from reviews; we are, however, disposed to think favourably beforehand, of any mode whichunites amusement with instruction. We cannot forbear recommending, inthe strongest manner, a few pages of Rollin in his "Thoughts uponEducation, "[14] which we think contain an excellent specimen of themanner in which a well informed preceptor might lead his pupils ageographical, historical, botanical, and physiological tour upon theartificial globe. We conclude this chapter of hints, by repeating what we have beforeasserted, that though technical assistance may be of ready use tothose who are really acquainted with that knowledge to which itrefers, it never can supply the place of accurate information. The causes of the rise and fall of empires, the progress of humanknowledge, and the great discoveries of superior minds, are the reallinks which connect the chain of political knowledge. FOOTNOTES: [12] V. Gray's Memoria Technica, and the Critic. [13] Instead of William the conqueror long did reign, And William his son by an arrowwas slain. Read, William the Con_sau_ long did reign, And Ruf_koi_ his son by an arrowwas slain. And so on from Gray's Memoria Technica to the end of the chapter. [14] Page 24. CHAPTER XV. ON ARITHMETIC. The man who is ignorant that two and two make four, is stigmatizedwith the character of hopeless stupidity; except, as Swift hasremarked, in the arithmetic of the customs, where two and two do notalways make the same sum. We must not judge of the understanding of a child by this test, formany children of quick abilities do not immediately assent to thisproposition when it is first laid before them. "Two and two makefour, " says the tutor. "Well, child, why do you stare so?" The child stares because the word _make_ is in this sentence used in asense which is quite new to him; he knows what it is to make a bow, and to make a noise, but how this active verb is applicable in thepresent case, where there is no agent to perform the action, he cannotclearly comprehend. "Two and two _are_ four, " is more intelligible;but even this assertion, the child, for want of a distinct notion ofthe sense in which the word _are_ is used, does not understand. "Twoand two _are called_ four, " is, perhaps, the most accurate phrase atutor can use; but even these words will convey no meaning until theyhave been associated with the pupil's perceptions. When he has onceperceived the combination of the numbers with real objects, it willthen be easy to teach him that the words _are called_, _are_, and_make_, in the foregoing proposition, are synonymous terms. We have chosen the first simple instance we could recollect, to showhow difficult the words we generally use in teaching arithmetic, mustbe to our young pupils. It would be an unprofitable task to enumerateall the puzzling technical terms which, in their earliest lessons, children are obliged to hear, without being able to understand. It is not from want of capacity that so many children are deficient inarithmetical skill; and it is absurd to say, "such a child has nogenius for arithmetic. Such a child cannot be made to comprehend anything about numbers. " These assertions prove nothing, but that thepersons who make them, are ignorant of the art of teaching. A child'sseeming stupidity in learning arithmetic, may, perhaps, be a proof ofintelligence and good sense. It is easy to make a boy, who does notreason, repeat by rote any technical rules which a commonwriting-master, with magisterial solemnity, may lay down for him; buta child who reasons, will not be thus easily managed; he stops, frowns, hesitates, questions his master, is wretched and refractory, until he can discover why he is to proceed in such and such a manner;he is not content with seeing his preceptor make figures and linesupon a slate, and perform wondrous operations with the self-complacentdexterity of a conjurer. A sensible boy is not satisfied with merelyseeing the total of a given sum, or the answer to a given question, _come out right_; he insists upon knowing why it is right. He is notcontent to be led to the treasures of science blindfold; he would tearthe bandage from his eyes, that he might know the way to them again. That many children, who have been thought to be slow in learningarithmetic, have, after their escape from the hands of pedagogues, become remarkable for their quickness, is a fact sufficiently provedby experience. We shall only mention one instance, which we happenedto meet with whilst we were writing this chapter. John Ludwig, a Saxonpeasant, was dismissed from school when he was a child, after fouryears ineffectual struggle to learn the common rules of arithmetic. Hehad been, during this time, beaten and scolded in vain. He spentseveral subsequent years in common country labour, but at length someaccidental circumstances excited his ambition, and he became expert inall the common rules, and mastered the rule of three and fractions, bythe help of an old school book, in the course of one year. Heafterwards taught himself geometry, and raised himself, by the forceof his abilities and perseverance, from obscurity to fame. We should like to see the book which helped Mr. Ludwig to conquer hisdifficulties. Introductions to Arithmetic are, often, calculatedrather for adepts in science, than for the ignorant. We do not pretendto have discovered any shorter method than what is common, of teachingthese sciences; but, in conformity with the principles which are laiddown in the former part of this work, we have endeavoured to teachtheir rudiments without disgusting our pupils, and without habituatingthem to be contented with merely technical operations. In arithmetic, as in every other branch of education, the principalobject should be, to preserve the understanding from implicit belief;to invigorate its powers; to associate pleasure with literature, andto induce the laudable ambition of progressive improvement. As soon as a child can read, he should be accustomed to count, and tohave the names of numbers early connected in his mind with thecombinations which they represent. For this purpose, he should betaught to add first by things, and afterwards by signs or figures. Heshould be taught to form combinations of things by adding themtogether one after another. At the same time that he acquires thenames that have been given to these combinations, he should be taughtthe figures or symbols that represent them. For example, when it isfamiliar to the child, that one almond, and one almond, are called twoalmonds; that one almond, and two almonds, are called three almonds, and so on, he should be taught to distinguish the figures thatrepresent these assemblages; that 3 means one and two, &c. Eachoperation of arithmetic should proceed in this manner, fromindividuals to the abstract notation of signs. One of the earliest operations of the reasoning faculty, isabstraction; that is to say, the power of classing a number ofindividuals under one name. Young children call strangers either menor women; even the most ignorant savages[15] have a propensity togeneralize. We may err either by accustoming our pupils too much to theconsideration of tangible substances when we teach them arithmetic, orby turning their attention too much to signs. The art of forming asound and active understanding, consists in the due mixture of factsand reflection. Dr. Reid has, in his "Essay on the Intellectual Powersof Man, " page 297, pointed out, with great ingenuity, the admirableeconomy of nature in limiting the powers of reasoning during the firstyears of infancy. This is the season for cultivating the senses, andwhoever, at this early age, endeavours to force the tender shoots ofreason, will repent his rashness. In the chapter "on Toys, " we have recommended the use of plain, regular solids, cubes, globes, &c. Made of wood, as playthings forchildren, instead of uncouth figures of men, women and animals. Forteaching arithmetic, half inch cubes, which can be easily grasped byinfant fingers, may be employed with great advantage; they can beeasily arranged in various combinations; the eye can easily take in asufficient number of them at once, and the mind is insensibly led toconsider the assemblages in which they may be grouped, not only asthey relate to number, but as they relate to quantity or shape;besides, the terms which are borrowed from some of these shapes, assquares, cubes, &c. Will become familiar. As these children advance inarithmetic to square or cube, a number will be more intelligible tothem than to a person who has been taught these words merely as theformula of certain rules. In arithmetic, the first lessons should beshort and simple; two cubes placed _above_ each other, will soon becalled two; if placed in any other situations near each other, theywill still be called two; but it is advantageous to accustom ourlittle pupils to place the cubes with which they are taught insuccession, either by placing them upon one another, or laying incolumns upon a table, beginning to count from the cube next to them, as we cast up in addition. For this purpose, a board about six incheslong, and five broad, divided into columns perpendicularly by slips ofwood three eighths of an inch wide, and one eighth of an inch thick, will be found useful; and if a few cubes of colours _different fromthose already mentioned_, with numbers on their six sides, areprocured, they may be of great service. Our cubes should be placed, from time to time, in a different order, or promiscuously; but whenany arithmetical operations are to be performed with them, it is bestto preserve the established arrangement. One cube and one other, are called two. Two what? Two cubes. One glass, and one glass, are called two glasses. One raisin, and oneraisin, are called two raisins, &c. One cube, and one glass, arecalled what? _Two things_ or two. By a process of this sort, the meaning of the abstract term _two_ maybe taught. A child will perceive the word _two_, means the same as thewords _one and one_; and when we say one and one are called two, unless he is prejudiced by something else that is said to him, he willunderstand nothing more than that there are two names for the samething. "One, and one, and one, are called three, " is the same as saying "thatthree is the name for one, and one, and one. " "Two and one are three, "is also the same as saying "that three is the name of _two and one_. "Three is also the name of one and two; the word three has, therefore, three meanings; it means one, and one, and one; _also_, two and one;also, one and two. He will see that any two of the cubes may be puttogether, as it were, in one parcel, and that this parcel may becalled _two_; and he will also see that this parcel, when joined toanother single cube, will _make_ three, and that the sum will be thesame, whether the single cube, or the two cubes, be named first. In a similar manner, the combinations which form _four_, may beconsidered. One, and one, and one, and one, are four. One and three are four. Two and two are four. Three and one are four. All these assertions mean the same thing, and the term _four_ isequally applicable to each of them; when, therefore, we say that twoand two are four, the child may be easily led to perceive, and indeedto _see_, that it means the same thing as saying one _two_, and one_two_, which is the same thing as saying two _two's_, or saying theword _two_ two times. Our pupil should be suffered to rest here, andwe should not, at present, attempt to lead him further towards thatcompendious method of addition which we call multiplication; but thefoundation is laid by giving him this view of the relation between twoand two in forming four. There is an enumeration in the note[16] of the different combinationswhich compose the rest of the Arabic notation, which consists only ofnine characters. Before we proceed to the number ten, or to the new series ofnumeration which succeeds to it, we should make our pupils perfectlymasters of the combinations which we have mentioned, both in thedirect order in which they are arranged, and in various modes ofsuccession; by these means, not only the addition, but thesubtraction, of numbers as far as nine, will be perfectly familiar tothem. It has been observed before, that counting by realities, and bysigns, should be taught at the same time, so that the ear, the eye, and the mind, should keep pace with one another; and that technicalhabits should be acquired without injury to the understanding. If achild begins between four and five years of age, he may be allowedhalf a year for this essential, preliminary step in arithmetic; fouror five minutes application every day, will be sufficient to teach himnot only the relations of the first decade in numeration, but also howto write figures with accuracy and expedition. The next step, is, by far the most difficult in the science ofarithmetic; in treatises upon the subject, it is concisely passed overunder the title of Numeration; but it requires no small degree of careto make it intelligible to children, and we therefore recommend, that, besides direct instruction upon the subject, the child should be led, by degrees, to understand the nature of classification in general. Botany and natural history, though they are not pursued as sciences, are, notwithstanding, the daily occupation and amusement of children, and they supply constant examples of classification. In conversation, these may be familiarly pointed out; a grove, a flock, &c. Areconstantly before the eyes of our pupil, and he comprehends as well aswe do what is meant by two groves, two flocks, &c. The trees that formthe grove are each of them individuals; but let their numbers be whatthey may when they are considered as a grove, the grove is but one, and may be thought of and spoken of distinctly, without any relationto the number of single trees which it contains. From these, andsimilar observations, a child may be led to consider _ten_ as the namefor a _whole_, an _integer_; a _one_, which may be represented by thefigure (1): this same figure may also stand for a hundred, or athousand, as he will readily perceive hereafter. Indeed, the term onehundred will become familiar to him in conversation long before hecomprehends that the word _ten_ is used as an aggregate term, like adozen, or a thousand. We do not use the word ten as the French do _unedizaine_; ten does not, therefore, present the idea of an integer tillwe learn arithmetic. This is a defect in our language, which hasarisen from the use of duodecimal numeration; the analogies existingbetween the names of other numbers in progression, is broken by theterms eleven and twelve. _Thirteen_, _fourteen_, &c. Are so obviouslycompounded of three and ten, and four and ten, as to strike the earsof children immediately, and when they advance as far as twenty, theyreadily perceive that a new series of units begins, and proceeds tothirty, and that thirty, forty, &c. Mean three tens, four tens, &c. Inpointing out these analogies to children, they become interested andattentive, they show that species of pleasure which arises from theperception of _aptitude_, or of truth. It can scarcely be denied thatsuch a pleasure exists independently of every view of utility andfame; and when we can once excite this feeling in the minds of ouryoung pupils at any period of their education, we may be certain ofsuccess. As soon as distinct notions have been acquired of the manner in whicha collection of ten units becomes a new unit of a higher order, ourpupil may be led to observe the utility of this invention by variousexamples, before he applies it to the rules of arithmetic. Let himcount as far as ten with black pebbles, [17] for instance; let him layaside a white pebble to represent the collection of ten; he may countanother series of ten black pebbles, and lay aside another white one;and so on, till he has collected ten white pebbles: as _each_ of theten white pebbles represents ten black pebbles, he will have countedone hundred; and the ten white pebbles may now be represented by asingle red one, which will stand for one hundred. This large number, which it takes up so much time to count, and which could not becomprehended at one view, is represented by a single sign. Here thedifference of colour forms the distinction: difference in shape, orsize, would answer the same purpose, as in the Roman notation X forten, L for fifty, C for one hundred, &c. All this is fully within thecomprehension of a child of six years old, and will lead him to thevalue of written figures by the _place_ which they hold when comparedwith one another. Indeed he may be led to invent this arrangement, acircumstance which would encourage him in every part of his education. When once he clearly comprehends that the third place, counting fromthe right, contains only figures which represent hundreds, &c. He willhave conquered one of the greatest difficulties of arithmetic. If apaper ruled with several perpendicular lines, a quarter of an inchasunder, be shown to him, he will see that the spaces or columnsbetween these lines would distinguish the value of figures written inthem, without the use of the sign (0) and he will see that (0) orzero, serves only to mark the place or situation of the neighbouringfigures. An idea of decimal arithmetic, but without detail, may now be given tohim, as it will not appear extraordinary to _him_ that a unit shouldrepresent ten by having its place, or column changed; and nothing moreis necessary in decimal arithmetic, than to consider that figure whichrepresented, at one time, an integer, or whole, as representing atanother time the number of _tenth parts_ into which that whole mayhave been broken. Our pupil may next be taught what is called numeration, which hecannot fail to understand, and in which he should be frequentlyexercised. Common addition will be easily understood by a child whodistinctly perceives that the perpendicular columns, or places inwhich figures are written, may distinguish their value under variousdifferent denominations, as gallons, furlongs, shillings, &c. Weshould not tease children with long sums in avoirdupois weight, orload their frail memories with tables of long-measure, anddry-measure, and ale-measure in the country, and ale-measure inLondon; only let them cast up a few sums in different denominations, with the tables before them, and let the practice of addition bepreserved in their minds by short sums every day, and when they arebetween six and seven years old, they will be sufficiently masters ofthe first and most useful rule of arithmetic. To children who have been trained in this manner, subtraction will bequite easy; care, however, should be taken to give them a clear notionof the mystery of _borrowing_ and _paying_, which is inculcated inteaching subtraction. From 94 Subtract 46 "Six from four I can't, but six from ten, and four remains; four andfour _is_ eight. " And then, "One that I borrowed and four are five, five from nine, andfour remains. " This is the formula; but is it ever explained--or can it be? Certainlynot without some alteration. A child sees that six cannot besubtracted (taken) from four: more especially a child who isfamiliarly acquainted with the component parts of the names six andfour: he sees that the sum 46 is less than the sum 94, and he knowsthat the lesser sum may be subtracted from the greater; but he doesnot perceive the means of separating them figure by figure. Tell him, that though six cannot be deducted from four, yet it can fromfourteen, and that if one of the tens which are contained in the (9)ninety in the uppermost row of the second column, be supposed to betaken away, or borrowed, from the ninety, and added to the four, thenine will be reduced to 8 (eighty), and the four will become fourteen. _Our_ pupil will comprehend this most readily; he will see that 6, which could not be subtracted from 4, may be subtracted from fourteen, and he will remember that the 9 in the next column is to be consideredas only (8). To avoid confusion, he may draw a stroke across the (9)and write 8 over[18] it [8 over (9)] and proceed to the remainder ofthe operation. This method for beginners is certainly very distinct, and may for some time, be employed with advantage; and after itsrationale has become familiar, we may explain the common method whichdepends upon this consideration. "If one number is to be deducted from another, the remainder will bethe same, whether we add any given number to the smaller number, ortake away the same given number from the larger. " For instance: Let the larger number be 9 And the smaller 4 If you deduct 3 from the larger it will be 6 From this subtract the smaller 4 -- The remainder will be 2 -- Or if you add 3 to the smaller number, it will be 7 -- Subtract this from the larger number 9 7 -- The remainder will be 2 Now in the common method of subtraction, the _one_ which is borrowedis taken from the uppermost figure in the adjoining column, andinstead of altering that figure to _one_ less, we add one to thelowest figure, which, as we have just shown, will have the sameeffect. The terms, however, that are commonly used in performing thisoperation, are improper. To say "one that I borrowed, and four"(meaning the lowest figure in the adjoining column) implies the ideathat what was borrowed is now to be repaid to that lowest figure, which is not the fact. As to multiplication, we have little to say. Our pupil should be furnished, in the first instance, with a tablecontaining the addition of the different units, which form thedifferent products of the multiplication table: these he should, fromtime to time, add up as an exercise in addition; and it should befrequently pointed out to him, that adding these figures so many timesover, is the same as multiplying them by the number of times that theyare added; as three times 3 means 3 added three times. Here one of thefigures represents a quantity, the other does not represent aquantity, it denotes nothing but the times, or frequency ofrepetition. Young people, as they advance, are apt to confound thesesigns, and to imagine, for instance, in the rule of three, &c. Thatthe sums which they multiply together, mean quantities; that 40 yardsof linen may be multiplied by three and six-pence, &c. --an idea fromwhich the misstatements in sums that are intricate, frequently arise. We have heard that the multiplication table has been set, like theChapter of Kings, to a cheerful tune. This is a species of technicalmemory which we have long practised, and which can do no harm to theunderstanding; it prevents the mind from no beneficial exertion, andmay save much irksome labour. It is certainly to be wished, that ourpupil should be expert in the multiplication table; if the cubes whichwe have formerly mentioned, be employed for this purpose, the notionof _squaring_ figures will be introduced at the same time that themultiplication table is committed to memory. In division, what is called the Italian method of arranging thedivisor and quotient, appears to be preferable to the common one, asit places them in such a manner as to be easily multiplied by eachother, and as it agrees with algebraic notation. The usual method is this: Divisor 71)83467(1175 Italian method: Dividend 83467| 71 | ---- | 1175 The rule of three is commonly taught in a manner merely technical:that it may be learned in this manner, so as to answer the commonpurposes of life, there can be no doubt; and nothing is further fromour design, than to depreciate any mode of instruction which has beensanctioned by experience: but our purpose is to point out methods ofconveying instruction that shall improve the reasoning faculty, andhabituate our pupil to think upon every subject. We wish, therefore, to point out the course which the mind would follow to solve problemsrelative to proportion without the rule, and to turn our pupil'sattention to the circumstances in which the rule assists us. The calculation of the price of any commodity, or the measure of anyquantity, where the first term is one, may be always stated as a sumin the rule of three; but as this statement retards, instead ofexpediting the operation, it is never practised. If one yard costs a shilling, how much will three yards cost? The mind immediately perceives, that the price added three timestogether, or multiplied by three, gives the answer. If a certainnumber of apples are to be equally distributed amongst a certainnumber of boys, if the share of one is one apple, the share of ten ortwenty is plainly equal to ten or twenty. But if we state that theshare of three boys is twelve apples, and ask what number will besufficient for nine boys, the answer is not obvious; it requiresconsideration. Ask our pupil what made it so easy to answer the lastquestion, he will readily say, "Because I knew what was the share ofone. " Then you could answer this new question if you knew the share of oneboy? Yes. Cannot you find out what the share of one boy is when the share ofthree boys is twelve? Four. What number of apples then will be enough, at the same rate, for nineboys? Nine times four, that is thirty-six. In this process he does nothing more than divide the second number bythe first, and multiply the quotient by the third; 12 divided by 3 is4, which multiplied by 9 is 36. And this is, in truth, the foundationof the rule; for though the golden rule facilitates calculation, andcontributes admirably to our convenience, it is not absolutelynecessary to the solution of questions relating to proportion. Again, "If the share of three boys is five apples, how many will besufficient for nine?" Our pupil will attempt to proceed as in the former question, and willbegin by endeavouring to find out the share of one of the three boys;but this is not quite so easy; he will see that each is to have oneapple, and part of another; but it will cost him some pains todetermine exactly how much. When at length he finds that one andtwo-thirds is the share of one boy, before he can answer the question, he must multiply one and two-thirds by nine, which is an operation _infractions_, a rule of which he at present knows nothing. But if hebegins by multiplying the second, instead of dividing it previously bythe first number, he will avoid the embarrassment occasioned byfractional parts, and will easily solve the question. 3 : 5 : 9 : 15 Multiply 5 by 9 -- it makes 45 which product 45, divided by 3, gives 15. Here our pupil perceives, that if a given number, 12, for instance, isto be divided by one number, and multiplied by another, _it will cometo the same thing_, whether he begins by dividing the given number, orby multiplying it. 12 divided by 4 is 3, which multiplied by 6 is 18; And 12 multiplied by 6 is 72, which divided by 4 is 18. We recommend it to preceptors not to fatigue the memories of theiryoung pupils with sums which are difficult only from the number offigures which they require, but rather to give examples _in practice_, where aliquot parts are to be considered, and where their ingenuitymay be employed without exhausting their patience. A variety ofarithmetical questions occur in common conversation, and from commonincidents; these should be made a subject of inquiry, and our pupils, amongst others, should try their skill: in short, whatever can betaught in conversation, is clear gain in instruction. We should observe, that every explanation upon these subjects shouldbe recurred to from time to time, perhaps every two or three months;as there are no circumstances in the business of every day, whichrecall abstract speculations to the minds of children; and the pupilwho understands them to-day, may, without any deficiency of memory, forget them entirely in a few weeks. Indeed, the perception of thechain of reasoning, which connects demonstration, is what makes ittruly advantageous in education. Whoever has occasion, in the businessof life, to make use of the rule of three, may learn it effectually ina month as well as in ten years; but the habit of reasoning cannot beacquired late in life without _unusual_ labour, and uncommonfortitude. FOOTNOTES: [15] V. A strange instance quoted by Mr. Stewart, "On the Human Mind, "page 152. [16] NOTE. 1 Two is 1 the - name for 2 = 1 1 1 1 2 - - 3 3 = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 1 2 3 2 - - - - 4 4 4 4 = = = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 2 2 - - - - - - 5 5 5 5 5 5 = = = == = 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 3 4 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 2 2 2 23 3 - - - - - - - - - - - 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 = = = = = = = = = = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 1 1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 3 45 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 7 7 77 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 12 1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 = = = = = == = = = = = = = = 1 1 2 1 1 5 2 2 3 4 2 2 3 4 4 4 4 5 6 - - - - - - - 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 = == = = = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 11 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 1 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 1 2 34 5 6 7 8 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 99 9 9 9 9 9 9 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 1 2 1 1 2 1 1 2 1 3 3 4 4 5 6 2 2 4 5 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 33 3 4 4 4 4 5 5 6 7 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 99 9 9 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [17] The word calculate is derived from the Latin calculus, a pebble. [18] This method is recommended in the Cours de Math, par Camus, p. 38. CHAPTER XVI. GEOMETRY. There is certainly no royal road to geometry, but the way may berendered easy and pleasant by timely preparations for the journey. Without any previous knowledge of the country, or of its peculiarlanguage, how can we expect that our young traveller should advancewith facility or pleasure? We are anxious that our pupil shouldacquire a taste for accurate reasoning, and we resort to Geometry, asthe most perfect, and the purest series of ratiocination which hasbeen invented. Let us, then, sedulously avoid whatever may disgusthim; let his first steps be easy, and successful; let them befrequently repeated until he can trace them without a guide. We have recommended in the chapter upon Toys, that children should, from their earliest years, be accustomed to the shape of what arecommonly called regular solids; they should also be accustomed to thefigures in mathematical diagrams. To these should be added theirrespective names, and the whole language of the science should berendered as familiar as possible. Mr. Donne, an ingenious mathematician of Bristol, has published aprospectus of an Essay on Mechanical Geometry: he has executed, andemployed with success, models in wood and metal for demonstratingpropositions in geometry in a _palpable_ manner. We have endeavoured, in vain, to procure a set of these models for our own pupils, but wehave no doubt of their entire utility. What has been acquired in childhood, should not be suffered to escapethe memory. Dionysius[19] had mathematical diagrams described uponthe floors of his apartments, and thus recalled their demonstrationsto his memory. The slightest addition that can be conceived, if it becontinued daily, will imperceptibly, not only preserve what has beenalready acquired, but will, in a few years, amount to as large a stockof mathematical knowledge as we could wish. It is not our object tomake mathematicians, but to make it easy to our pupil to become amathematician, if his interest, or his ambition, make it desirable;and, above all, to habituate him to clear reasoning, and closeattention. And we may here remark, that an early acquaintance with theaccuracy of mathematical demonstration, does not, within ourexperience, contract the powers of the imagination. On the contrary, we think that a young lady of twelve years old, who is now no more, and who had an uncommon propensity to mathematical reasoning, had animagination remarkably vivid and inventive. [20] We have accustomed our pupils to form in their minds the conception offigures generated from points and lines, and surfaces supposed to movein different directions, and with different velocities. It may bethought, that this would be a difficult occupation for young minds;but, upon trial, it will be found not only easy to them, butentertaining. In their subsequent studies, it will be of materialadvantage; it will facilitate their progress not only in puremathematics, but in mechanics and astronomy, and in every operation ofthe mind which requires exact reflection. To demand steady thought from a person who has not been trained to it, is one of the most unprofitable and dangerous requisitions that can bemade in education. "Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, And petrify a genius to a dunce. " In the usual commencement of mathematical studies, the learner isrequired to admit that a point, of which he sees the prototype, a dotbefore him, has neither length, breadth, nor thickness. This, surely, is a degree of faith not absolutely necessary for the neophyte inscience. It is an absurdity which has, with much success, beenattacked in "Observations on the Nature of Demonstrative Evidence, " byDoctor Beddoes. We agree with the doctor as to the impropriety of calling a visibledot, a point without dimensions. But, notwithstanding the high respectwhich the author commands by a steady pursuit of truth on all subjectsof human knowledge, we cannot avoid protesting against part of thedoctrine which he has endeavoured to inculcate. That the names point, radius, &c. Are derived from sensible objects, need not be disputed;but surely the word centre can be understood by the human mind withoutthe presence of any visible or tangible substance. Where two lines meet, their junction cannot have dimensions;where two radii of a circle meet, they constitute the centre, and the name centre may be used for ever without any relationto a tangible or visible point. The word boundary, in like manner, means the extreme limit we call a line; but to assert that it hasthickness, would, from the very terms which are used to describe it, be a direct contradiction. Bishop Berkely, Mr. Walton, PhilathetesCantabrigiensis, and Mr. Benjamin Robins, published several pamphletsupon this subject about half a century ago. No man had a morepenetrating mind than Berkely; but we apprehend that Mr. Robins closedthe dispute against him. This is not meant as an appeal to authority, but to apprize such of our readers as wish to consider the argument, where they may meet an accurate investigation of the subject. It issufficient for our purpose, to warn preceptors not to insist upontheir pupils' acquiescence in the dogma, that a point, represented bya dot, is without dimensions; and at the same time to profess, that weunderstand distinctly what is meant by mathematicians when they speakof length without breadth, and of a superfices without depth;expressions which, to our minds, convey a meaning as distinct as thename of any visible or tangible substance in nature, whose varietiesfrom shade, distance, colour, smoothness, heat, &c. Are infinite, andnot to be comprehended in any definition. In fact, this is a dispute merely about words, and as the extension ofthe art of printing puts it in the power of every man to propose andto defend his opinions at length, and at leisure, the best friends maysupport different sides of a question with mutual regard, and the mostviolent enemies with civility and decorum. Can we believe that TychoBrahe lost half his nose in a dispute with a Danish nobleman about amathematical demonstration? FOOTNOTES: [19] Plutarch. --Life of Dion. [20] V. Rivuletta, a little story written _entirely_ by her in 1786. CHAPTER XVII. ON MECHANICS. Parents are anxious that children should be conversant with Mechanics, and with what are called the Mechanic Powers. Certainly no species ofknowledge is better suited to the taste and capacity of youth, and yetit seldom forms a part of early instruction. Every body talks of thelever, the wedge, and the pulley, but most people perceive, that thenotions which they have of their respective uses, are unsatisfactory, and indistinct; and many endeavour, at a late period of life, toacquire a scientific and exact knowledge of the effects that areproduced by implements which are in every body's hands, or that areabsolutely necessary in the daily occupations of mankind. An itinerant lecturer seldom fails of having a numerous and attentiveauditory; and if he does not communicate much of that knowledge whichhe endeavours to explain, it is not to be attributed either to hiswant of skill, or to the insufficiency of his apparatus, but to thenovelty of the terms which he is obliged to use. Ignorance of thelanguage in which any science is taught, is an insuperable bar to itsbeing suddenly acquired; besides a precise knowledge of the meaning ofterms, we must have an instantaneous idea excited in our mindswhenever they are repeated; and, as this can be acquired only bypractice, it is impossible that philosophical lectures can be of muchservice to those who are not familiarly acquainted with the technicallanguage in which they are delivered; and yet there is scarcely anysubject of human inquiry more obvious to the understanding, than thelaws of mechanics. Only a small portion of geometry is necessary tothe learner, if he even wishes to become master of the more difficultproblems which are usually contained in a course of lectures, and mostof what is practically useful, may be acquired by any person who isexpert in common arithmetic. But we cannot proceed a single step without deviating from commonlanguage; if the theory of the balance, or the lever, is to beexplained, we immediately speak of _space_ and _time_. To persons notversed in literature, it is probable that these terms appear moresimple and unintelligible than they do to a man who has read Locke, and other metaphysical writers. The term _space_ to the bulk ofmankind, conveys the idea of an interval; they consider the word_time_ as representing a definite number of years, days, or minutes;but the metaphysician, when he hears the words _space_ and _time_, immediately takes the alarm, and recurs to the abstract notions whichare associated with these terms; he perceives difficulties unknown tothe unlearned, and feels a confusion of ideas which distracts hisattention. The lecturer proceeds with confidence, never supposingthat his audience can be puzzled by such common terms. He means by_space_, the distance from the place whence a body begins to fall, tothe place where its motion ceases; and by time, he means the number ofseconds, or of any determinate divisions of _civil_ time which elapsefrom the commencement of any motion to its end; or, in other words, the duration of any given motion. After this has been frequentlyrepeated, any intelligent person perceives the sense in which they areused by the tenour of the discourse; but in the interim, the greatestpart of what he has heard, cannot have been understood, and thepremises upon which every subsequent demonstration is founded, areunknown to him. If this be true, when it is affirmed of two termsonly, what must be the situation of those to whom eight or ten unknowntechnical terms occur at the commencement of a lecture? A completeknowledge, such a knowledge as is not only full, but familiar, of allthe common terms made use of in theoretic and practical mechanics, is, therefore, absolutely necessary before any person can attend publiclectures in natural philosophy with advantage. What has been said of public lectures, may, with equal propriety, beapplied to private instruction; and it is probable, that inattentionto this circumstance is the reason why so few people have distinctnotions of natural philosophy. Learning by rote, or even readingrepeatedly, definitions of the technical terms of any science, mustundoubtedly facilitate its acquirement; but conversation, with thehabit of explaining the meaning of words, and the structure of commondomestic implements, to children, is the sure and effectual method ofpreparing the mind for the acquirement of science. The ancients, in learning this species of knowledge, had an advantageof which we are deprived: many of their terms of science were thecommon names of familiar objects. How few do we meet who have adistinct notion of the words radius, angle, or valve. A Roman peasantknew what a radius or a valve meant, in their original signification, as well as a modern professor; he knew that a valve was a door, and aradius a spoke of a wheel; but an English child finds it as difficultto remember the meaning of the word angle, as the word parabola. Anangle is usually confounded, by those who are ignorant of geometry andmechanics, with the word triangle, and the long reasoning of many alaborious instructer has been confounded by this popular mistake. Whena glass pump is shown to an admiring spectator, he is desired to watchthe motion of the valves: he looks "above, about, and underneath;"but, ignorant of the word _valve_, he looks in vain. Had he beendesired to look at the motion of the little doors that opened andshut, as the handle of the pump was moved up and down, he would havefollowed the lecturer with ease, and would have understood all hissubsequent reasoning. If a child attempts to push any thing heavierthan himself, his feet slide away from it, and the object can be movedonly at intervals, and by sudden starts; but if he be desired to prophis feet against the wall, he finds it easy to push what before eludedhis little strength. Here the use of a fulcrum, or fixed point, bymeans of which bodies may be moved, is distinctly understood. If twoboys lay a board across a narrow block of wood, or stone, and balanceeach other at the opposite ends of it, they acquire another idea of acentre of motion. If a poker is rested against a bar of a grate, andemployed to lift up the coals, the same notion of a centre is recalledto their minds. If a boy, sitting upon a plank, a sofa, or form, belifted up by another boy's applying his strength at one end of theseat, whilst the other end of the seat rests on the ground, it will bereadily perceived by them, that the point of rest, or centre ofmotion, or fulcrum, is the ground, and that the fulcrum is not, as inthe first instance, between the force that lifts, and the thing thatis lifted; the fulcrum is at one end, the force which is exerted actsat the other end, and the weight is in the middle. In trying, thesesimple experiments, the terms _fulcrum_, _centre of motion_, &c. Should be constantly employed, and in a very short time they would beas familiar to a boy of eight years old as to any philosopher. If forsome years the same words frequently recur to him in the same sense, is it to be supposed that a lecture upon the balance and the leverwould be as unintelligible to him as to persons of good abilities, whoat a more advanced age hear these terms from the mouth of a lecturer?A boy in such circumstances would appear as if he had a genius formechanics, when, perhaps, he might have less taste for the science, and less capacity, than the generality of the audience. Trifling as itmay at first appear, it will not be found a trifling advantage, in theprogress of education, to attend to this circumstance. A distinctknowledge of a few terms, assists a learner in his first attempts;finding these successful, he advances with confidence, and acquiresnew ideas without difficulty or disgust. Rousseau, with his usualeloquence, has inculcated the necessity of annexing ideas to words; hedeclaims against the splendid ignorance of men who speak by rote, andwho are rich in words amidst the most deplorable poverty of ideas. Tostore the memory of his pupil with images of things, he is willing toneglect, and leave to hazard, his acquirement of language. It requiresno elaborate argument to prove that a boy, whose mind was stored withaccurate images of external objects, of experimental knowledge, andwho had acquired habitual dexterity, but who was unacquainted with theusual signs by which ideas are expressed, would be incapable ofaccurate reasoning, or would, at best, reason only upon particulars. Without general terms, he could not abstract; he could not, until hisvocabulary was enlarged, and familiar to him, reason upon generaltopics, or draw conclusions from general principles: in short, hewould be in the situation of those who, in the solution of difficultand complicated questions relative to quantity, are obliged to employtedious and perplexed calculations, instead of the clear andcomprehensive methods that unfold themselves by the use of signs inalgebra. It is not necessary, in teaching children the technical language ofany art or science, that we should pursue the same order that isrequisite in teaching the science itself. Order is required inreasoning, because all reasoning is employed in deducing propositionsfrom one another in a regular series; but where terms are employedmerely as names, this order may be dispensed with. It is, however, ofgreat consequence to seize the proper time for introducing a new term;a moment when attention is awake, and when accident has produced someparticular interest in the object. In every family, opportunities ofthis sort occur without any preparation, and such opportunities arefar preferable to a formal lecture and a splendid apparatus for thefirst lessons in natural philosophy and chemistry. If the pumpbelonging to the house is out of order, and the pump-maker is set towork, an excellent opportunity presents itself for variety ofinstruction. The centre pin of the handle is taken out, and a long rodis drawn up by degrees, at the end of which a round piece of wood isseen partly covered with leather. Your pupil immediately asks the nameof it, and the pump-maker prevents your answer, by informing littlemaster that it is called a sucker. You show it to the child, hehandles it, feels whether the leather is hard or soft, and at lengthdiscovers that there is a hole through it which is covered with alittle flap or door. This, he learns from the workmen, is called aclack. The child should now be permitted to plunge _the piston_ (bywhich name it should _now_ be called) into a tub of water; in drawingit backwards and forwards, he will perceive that the clack, whichshould now be called the valve, opens and shuts as the piston is drawnbackwards and forwards. It will be better not to inform the child howthis mechanism is employed in the pump. If the names sucker andpiston, clack and valve, are fixed in his memory, it will besufficient for his first lesson. At another opportunity, he should bepresent when the fixed or lower valve of the pump is drawn up; he willexamine it, and find that it is similar to the valve of the piston; ifhe sees it put down into the pump, and sees the piston put into itsplace, and set to work, the names that he has learned will be fixedmore deeply in his mind, and he will have some general notion of thewhole apparatus. From time to time these names should be recalled tohis memory on suitable occasions, but he should not be asked to repeatthem by rote. What has been said, is not intended as a lesson for achild in mechanics, but as a sketch of a method of teaching which hasbeen employed with success. Whatever repairs are carried on in a house, children should bepermitted to see: whilst every body about them seems interested, theybecome attentive from sympathy; and whenever action accompaniesinstruction, it is sure to make an impression. If a lock is out oforder, when it is taken off, show it to your pupil; point out some ofits principal parts, and name them; then put it into the hands of achild, and let him manage it as he pleases. Locks are full of oil, andblack with dust and iron; but if children have been taught habits ofneatness, they may be clock-makers and white-smiths, without spoilingtheir clothes, or the furniture of a house. Upon every occasion ofthis sort, technical terms should be made familiar; they are of greatuse in the every-day business of life, and are peculiarly serviceablein giving orders to workmen, who, when they are spoken to in alanguage that they are used to, comprehend what is said to them, andwork with alacrity. An early use of a rule and pencil, and easy access to prints ofmachines, of architecture, and of the implements of trades, are ofobvious use in this part of education. The machines published by theSociety of Arts in London; the prints in Desaguliers, Emerson, leSpectacle de la Nature, Machines approuvées par l'Académie, Chambers'sDictionary, Berthoud sur l'Horlogerie, Dictionaire des Arts et desMétiers, may, in succession, be put into the hands of children. Themost simple should be first selected, and the pupils should beaccustomed to attend minutely to one print before another is given tothem. A proper person should carefully point out and explain to themthe first prints that they examine; they may afterwards be left tothemselves. To understand prints of machines, a previous knowledge of what ismeant by an elevation, a profile, a section, a perspective view, and a(vue d'oiseau) bird's eye view, is necessary. To obtain distinct ideasof sections, a few models of common furniture, as chests of drawers, bellows, grates, &c. May be provided, and may be cut asunder indifferent directions. Children easily comprehend this part of drawing, and its uses, which may be pointed out in books of architecture; itsapplication to the common business of life, is so various andimmediate, as to fix it for ever in the memory; besides, the habit ofabstraction, which is acquired by drawing the sections of complicatedarchitecture or machinery, is highly advantageous to the mind. Theparts which we wish to express, are concealed, and are suggestedpartly by the elevation or profile of the figure, and partly by theconnection between the end proposed in the construction of thebuilding, machine, &c. And the means which are adapted to effect it. A knowledge of perspective, is to be acquired by an operation of themind directly opposite to what is necessary in delineating thesections of bodies; the mind must here be intent only upon the objectsthat are delineated upon the retina, exactly what we see; it mustforget or suspend the knowledge which it has acquired from experience, and must see with the eye of childhood, no further than the surface. Every person, who is accustomed to drawing in perspective, seesexternal nature, when he pleases, merely as a picture: this habitcontributes much to form a taste for the fine arts; it may, however, be carried to excess. There are improvers who prefer the most drearyruin to an elegant and convenient mansion, and who prefer a blastedstump to the glorious foliage of the oak. Perspective is not, however, recommended merely as a means ofimproving the taste, but as it is useful in facilitating the knowledgeof mechanics. When once children are familiarly acquainted withperspective, and with the representations of machines by elevations, sections, &c. Prints will supply them with an extensive variety ofinformation; and when they see real machines, their structure and useswill be easily comprehended. The noise, the seeming confusion, and thesize of several machines, make it difficult to comprehend and combinetheir various parts, without much time, and repeated examination; thereduced size of prints lays the whole at once before the eye, andtends to facilitate not only comprehension, but contrivance. Whoevercan delineate progressively as he invents, saves much labour, muchtime, and the hazard of confusion. Various contrivances have beenemployed to facilitate drawing in perspective, as may be seen in"Cabinet de Servier, Memoires of the French Academy, PhilosophicalTransactions, and lately in the Repertory of Arts. " The following issimple, cheap, and _portable_. PLATE 1. FIG. 1. A B C, three mahogany boards, two, four, and six inches long, and ofthe same breadth respectively, so as to double in the mannerrepresented. PLATE 1. FIG. 2. The part A is screwed, or _clamped_ to a table of a convenient height, and a sheet of paper, one edge of which is put under the piece A, willbe held fast to the table. The index P is to be set (at pleasure) with it sharp point to anypart of an object which the eye sees through E, the eye-piece. The machine is now to be doubled as in Fig. 2, taking care that theindex be not disturbed; the point, which was before perpendicular, will then approach the paper horizontally, and the place to which itpoints on the paper, must be marked with a pencil. The machine must beagain unfolded, and another point of the object is to be ascertainedin the same manner as before; the space between these points may bethen connected with a line; fresh points should then be taken, markedwith a pencil, and connected with a line; and so on successively, until the whole object is delineated. Besides the common terms of art, the technical terms of scienceshould, by degrees, be rendered familiar to our pupils. Amongst thesethe words Space and Time occur, as we have observed, the soonest, andare of the greatest importance. Without exact definitions, or abstractreasonings, a general notion of the use of these terms may beinculcated by employing them frequently in conversation, and byapplying them to things and circumstances which occur withoutpreparation, and about which children are interested, or occupied. "There is a great space left between the words in that printing. " Thechild understands, that _space_ in this sentence means white paperbetween black letters. "You should leave a greater space between theflowers which you are planting"--he knows that you mean more _ground_. "There is a great space between that boat and the ship"--space ofwater. "I hope the hawk will not be able to catch that pigeon, thereis a great space between them"--space of air. "The men who are pullingthat sack of corn into the granary, have raised it through half thespace between the door and the ground. " A child cannot be at any lossfor the meaning of the word space in these or any other practicalexamples which may occur; but he should also be used to the word spaceas a technical expression, and then he will not be confused or stoppedby a new term when employed in mechanics. The word _time_ may be used in the same manner upon numberlessoccasions to express the duration of any movement which is performedby the force of men, or horses, wind, water, or any mechanical power. "Did the horses in the mill we saw yesterday, go as fast as the horseswhich are drawing the chaise?" "No, not as fast as the horses go atpresent on level ground; but they went as fast as the chaise-horses dowhen they go up hill, or as fast as horses draw a waggon. " "How many times do the sails of that wind-mill go round in a minute?Let us count; I will look at my watch; do you count how often thesails go round; wait until that broken arm is uppermost, and when yousay _now_, I will begin to count the _time_; when a minute has past, Iwill tell you. " After a few trials, this experiment will become easy to a child ofeight or nine years old; he may sometimes attend to the watch, and atother times count the turns of the sails; he may easily be made toapply this to a horse-mill, or to a water-mill, a corn-fan, or anymachine that has a rotatory motion; he will be entertained with hisnew employment; he will compare the _velocities_ of differentmachines; the meaning of this word will be easily added to hisvocabulary. "Does that part of the arms of the wind-mill which is near the_axle-tree_, or _centre_, I mean that part which has no cloth or sailupon it, go as fast as the ends of the arms that are the farthest fromthe centre?" "No, not near so fast. " "But that part goes as often round in a minute as the rest of thesail. " "Yes, but it does not go as fast. " "How so?" "It does not go so _far_ round. " "No, it does not. The _extremities_ of the _sails go through morespace in the same time_ than the part near the centre. " By conversations like these, the technical meaning of the word_velocity_ may be made quite familiar to a child much younger thanwhat has been mentioned; he may not only comprehend that velocitymeans time and space considered together, but if he is sufficientlyadvanced in arithmetic, he may be readily taught how to express andcompare in numbers _velocities_ composed of certain portions of timeand space. He will not inquire about the abstract meaning of the word_space_; he has seen space measured on paper, on timber, on the water, in the air, and he perceives distinctly that it is a term equallyapplicable to all distances that can exist between objects of anysort, or that he can see, feel, or imagine. Momentum, a less common word, the meaning of which is not quite soeasy to convey to a child, may, by degrees, be explained to him: atevery instant he feels the effect of momentum in his own motions, andin the motions of every thing that strikes against him; his feelingsand experience require only proper terms to become the subject of hisconversation. When he begins to inquire, it is the proper time toinstruct him. For instance, a boy of ten years old, who had acquiredthe meaning of some other terms in science, this morning asked themeaning of the word momentum; he was desired to explain what hethought it meant. He answered, "Force. " "What do you mean by force?" "Effort. " "Of what?" "Of gravity. " "Do you mean that force by which a body is drawn down to the earth?" "No. " "Would a feather, if it were moving with the greatest conceivableswiftness or velocity, throw down a castle?" "No. "[21] "Would a mountain torn up by the roots, as fabled in Milton, if itmoved with the least conceivable velocity, throw down a castle?" "Yes, I think it would. " The difference between an uniform, and an uniformly acceleratedmotion, the measure of the velocity of falling bodies, the compositionof motions communicated to the same body in different directions atthe same time, and the cause of the curvilinear track of projectiles, seem, at first, intricate subjects, and above the capacity of boys often or twelve years old; but by short and well-timed lessons, they maybe explained without confounding or fatiguing their attention. Wetried another experiment whilst this chapter was writing, to determinewhether we had asserted too much upon this subject. After aconversation between two boys upon the descent of bodies towards theearth, and upon the measure of the increasing velocity with which theyfall, they were desired, with a view to ascertain whether theyunderstood what was said, to invent a machine which should show thedifference between an uniform and an accelerated velocity, and inparticular to show, by occular demonstration, "that if one body movesin a given time through a given space, with an uniform motion, and ifanother body moves through the same space in the same time with anuniformly accelerated motion, the uniform motion of the one will beequal to half the accelerated motion of the other. " The eldest boy, H----, thirteen years old, invented and executed the following machinefor this purpose: Plate I, Fig. 3. _b_ is a bracket 9 inches by 5, consisting of a backand two sides of hard wood: two inches from the back two slits aremade in the sides of the bracket half an inch deep, and an eighth ofan inch wide, to receive the two wire pivots of a roller; which rolleris composed of a cylinder, three inches long and half an inchdiameter; and a cone three inches long and one inch diameter in itslargest part or base. The cylinder and cone are not separate, but areturned out of one piece; a string is fastened to the cone at its base_a_, with a bullet or any other small weight at the other end of it;and another string and weight are fastened to the cylinder at _c_; thepivot _p_ of wire is bent into the form of a handle; if the handle isturned either way, the strings will be respectively wound up upon thecone and cylinder; their lengths should now be adjusted, so that whenthe string on the cone is wound up as far as the cone will permit, thetwo weights may be at an equal distance from the bottom of thebracket, which bottom we suppose to be parallel with the pivots; thebracket should now be fastened against a wall, at such a height as tolet the weights lightly touch the floor when the strings are unwound:silk or _bobbin_ is a proper kind of string for this purpose, as it iswoven or plaited, and therefore is not liable to twist. When thestrings are wound up to their greatest heights, if the handle besuddenly let go, both the weights will begin to fall at the samemoment; but the weight 1, will descend at first but slowly, and willpass through but small space compared with the weight 2. As theydescend further, No. 2 still continues to get before No. 1; but aftersome time, No. 1 begins to overtake No. 2, and at last they come tothe ground together. If this machine is required to show exactly thespace that a falling body would describe in given times, the cone andcylinder must have grooves cut spirally upon their circumference, todirect the string with precision. To describe these spiral lines, became a new subject of inquiry. The young mechanics were again eagerto exert their powers of invention; the eldest invented a machine uponthe same principle as that which is used by the best workmen forcutting clock fusees; and it is described in Berthoud. The youngestinvented the engine delineated, Plate 1, Fig. 4. The roller or cone (or both together) which it is required to cutspirally, must be furnished with a handle, and a toothed wheel _w_, which turns a smaller wheel or pinion _w_. This pinion carries with ita screw _s_, which draws forward the puppet _p_, in which thegraver of chisel _g_ slides _without shake_. This graver has a pointor edge shaped properly to form the spiral groove, with a shoulder toregulate the depth of the groove. The iron rod _r_, which is firmlyfastened in the puppet, slides through mortices at _mm_, and guidesthe puppet in a straight line. [Illustration: Plate 1. ] The rest of the machine is intelligible from the drawing. A simple method of showing the nature of compound forces was thoughtof at the same time. An ivory ball was placed at the corner of a boardsixteen inches broad, and two feet long; two other similar balls werelet fall down inclined troughs against the first ball in differentdirections, but at the same time. One fell in a direction parallel tothe length of the board; the other ball fell back in a directionparallel to its breadth. By raising the troughs, such a force wascommunicated to each of the falling balls, as was sufficient to drivethe ball that was at rest to that side or end of the board which wasopposite, or at right angles, to the line of its motion. When both balls were let fall together, they drove the ball that wasat rest diagonally, so as to reach the opposite corner. If the sameboard were placed as an inclined plane, at an angle of five or sixdegrees, a ball placed at one of its uppermost corners, would fallwith an accelerated motion in a direct line; but if another ball weremade (by descending through an inclined trough) to strike the firstball at right angles to the line of its former descent, at the momentwhen it began to descend, it would not, as in the former experiment, move diagonally, but would describe a curve. The reason why it describes a curve, and why that curve is notcircular, was easily understood. Children who are thus induced toinvent machines or apparatus for explaining and demonstrating the lawsof mechanism, not only fix indelibly those laws in their own minds, but enlarge their powers of invention, and preserve a certainoriginality of thought, which leads to new discoveries. We therefore strongly recommend it to teachers, to use as few preceptsas possible in the rudiments of science, and to encourage their pupilsto use their own understandings as they advance. In mechanism, ageneral view of the powers and uses of engines is all that need betaught; where more is necessary, such a foundation, with theassistance of good books, and the examination of good machinery, willperfect the knowledge of theory and facilitate practice. At first we should not encumber our pupils with accuratedemonstration. The application of mathematics to mechanics isundoubtedly of the highest use, and has opened a source of ingeniousand important inquiry. Archimedes, the greatest name amongst mechanicphilosophers, scorned the mere practical application of his sublimediscoveries, and at the moment when the most stupendous effects wereproducing by his engines, he was so deeply absorbed in abstractspeculation as to be insensible to the fear of death. We do not mean, therefore, to undervalue either the application of strictdemonstration to problems in mechanics, or the exhibition of the mostaccurate machinery in philosophical lectures; but we wish to point outa method of giving a general notion of the mechanical organs to ourpupils, which shall be immediately obvious to their comprehension, andwhich may serve as a sure foundation for future improvement. We aretold by a vulgar proverb, that though we believe what we see, we haveyet a higher belief in what we _feel_. This adage is particularlyapplicable to mechanics. When a person perceives the effect of his ownbodily exertions with different engines, and when he can compare in arough manner their relative advantages, he is not disposed to rejecttheir assistance, or expect more than is reasonable from theirapplication. The young theorist in mechanics thinks he can produce aperpetual motion! When he has been accustomed to refer to the plaindictates of common sense and experience, on this, as well as on everyother subject, he will not easily be led astray by visionary theories. [Illustration: Plate 2. ] To bring the sense of feeling to our assistance in teaching the usesof the mechanic powers, the following apparatus was constructed, towhich we have given the name Panorganon. It is composed of two principal parts: a frame to contain the movingmachinery; and a _capstan_ or _windlass_, which is erected on a _sill_or plank, that is sunk a few inches into the ground: the frame is bythis means, and by six braces or props, rendered steady. The crossrail, or _transom_, is strengthened by braces and a king-post to makeit lighter and cheaper. The _capstan_ consists of an upright shaft, upon which are fixed two _drums_; about which a rope may be wound up, and two levers or arms by which it may be turned round. There is alsoa screw of iron coiled round the lower part of the shaft, to show theproperties of the screw as a mechanic power. The rope which goes roundthe _drum_ passes over one of the pulleys near to the top of theframe, and under another pulley near the bottom of the frame. As two_drums_ of different sizes are employed, it is necessary to have anupright roller to conduct the rope in a proper direction to thepulleys, when either of the _drums_ is used. Near the frame, and inthe direction in which the rope runs, is laid a platform or road ofdeal boards, one board in breadth, and twenty or thirty feet long, upon which a small sledge loaded with different weights may be drawn. Plate 2. Fig. 1. F. F. The frame. b. B. Braces to keep the frame steady. a. A. A. Angular braces to strengthen the transom; and also a_king-post_. S. A round, taper shaft, strengthened above and below the mortiseswith iron hoops. L L. Two arms, or levers, by which the shaft, &c. Are to be movedround. D D. The drum, which has two rims of different circumferences. R. The roller to conduct the rope. P. The pulley, round which the rope passes to the larger drum. P 2. Another pulley to answer to the smaller drum. P 3. A pulley through which the rope passes when experiments are triedwith levers, &c. P 4. Another pulley through which the rope passes when the sledge isused. Ro. The road of deal boards for the sledge to move on. Sl. The sledge, with pieces of hard wood attached to it, to guide iton the road. _Uses of the Panorganon. _ As this machine is to be moved by the force of men or children, and astheir force varies not only with the strength and weight of eachindividual, but also according to the different manner in which thatstrength or weight is applied; it is, in the first place, requisite toestablish one determinate mode of applying human force to the machine;and also a method of determining the relative force of each individualwhose strength is applied to it. _To estimate the force with which a person can draw horizontally by arope over his shoulder. _ EXPERIMENT I. Hang a common long scale-beam (without scales or chains) from the topor _transom_ of the frame, so as that one end of it may come within aninch of one side or post of the machine. Tie a rope to the hook of thescale-beam, where the chains of the scale are usually hung, and passit through the pulley P 3, which is about four feet from the ground;let the person pull this rope from 1 towards 2, turning his back tothe machine, and pulling the rope over his shoulder--Pl. 2. Fig. 6. Asthe pulley may be either too high or too low to permit the rope to behorizontal, the person who pulls it should be placed ten or fifteenfeet from the machine, which will lessen the angular direction of thecord, and the inaccuracy of the experiment. Hang weights to the otherend of the scale-beam, until the person who pulls can but just walkforward, pulling fairly without propping his feet against any thing. This weight will estimate the force with which he can drawhorizontally by a rope over his shoulder. [22] Let a child who triesthis, walk on the board with dry shoes; let him afterwards chalk hisshoes, and afterwards try it with his shoes soaped: he will find thathe can pull with different degrees of force in these differentcircumstances; but when he tries the following experiments, let hisshoes be always dry, that his force may be always the same. _To show the power of the three different sorts of levers. _ EXPERIMENT II. Instead of putting the cord that comes from the scale-beam, as in thelast experiment, over the shoulder of the boy, hook it to the end 1 ofthe lever L, Fig. 2. Plate 2. This lever is passed through asocket--Plate 2. Fig. 3. --in which it can be shifted from one of itsends towards the other, and can be fastened at any place by the screwof the socket. This socket has two gudgeons, upon which it, and thelever which it contains, can turn. This socket and its gudgeons can belifted out of the holes in which it plays, between the rail R R, Plate2. Fig. 2. And may be put into other holes at R R, Fig. 5. Loopanother rope to the other end of this lever, and let the boy pull asbefore. Perhaps it should be pointed out, that the boy must walk in adirection contrary to that in which he walked before, viz. From 1towards 3. The height to which the weight ascends, and the distance towhich the boy advances, should be carefully marked and measured; andit will be found, that he can raise the weight to the same height, advancing through the same space as in the former experiment. In thiscase, as both ends of the lever moved through equal spaces, the leveronly changed the direction of the motion, and added no mechanicalpower to the direct strength of the boy. EXPERIMENT III. Shift the lever to its extremity in the _socket_; the middle of thelever will be now opposite to the pulley, Pl. 2. Fig. 4. --hook to itthe rope that goes through the pulley P 3, and fasten to the other endof the lever the rope by which the boy is to pull. This will be _alever of the second kind_, as it is called in books of mechanics; inusing which, _the resistance is placed between the centre of motion orfulcrum, and the moving power_. He will now raise double the weightthat he did in Experiment II, and he will advance through double thespace. EXPERIMENT IV. Shift the lever, and the socket which forms the axis (without shiftingthe lever from the place in which it was in the socket in the lastexperiment) to the holes that are prepared for it at R R, Plate 2. Fig. 5. The free end of the lever E will now be opposite to the rope, and to the pulley (over which the rope comes from the scale-beam. )Hook this rope to it, and hook the rope by which the boy pulls, to themiddle of the lever. The effect will now be different from what it wasin the two last experiments; the boy will advance only half as far, and will raise only half as much weight as before. This is called _alever of the third sort_. The first and second kinds of levers areused in quarrying; and the operations of many tools may be referred tothem. The third kind of lever is employed but seldom, but itsproperties may be observed with advantage whilst a long ladder israised, as the man who raises it, is obliged to exert an increasingforce until the ladder is nearly perpendicular. When this lever isused, it is obvious, from what has been said, that the power mustalways pass through less space than the thing which is to be moved; itcan never, therefore, be of service in gaining power. But the objectof some machines, is to increase velocity, instead of obtaining power, as in a sledge-hammer moved by mill-work. (V. The plates in Emerson'sMechanics, No. 236. ) The experiments upon levers may be varied at pleasure, increasing ordiminishing the mechanical advantage, so as to balance the power andthe resistance, to accustom the learners to calculate the relationbetween the power and the effect in different circumstances; alwayspointing out, that whatever excess there is in the power, [23] or inthe resistance, is always compensated by the difference of spacethrough which the inferiour passes. The experiments which we have mentioned, are sufficiently satisfactoryto a pupil, as to the immediate relation between the power and theresistance; but the different spaces through which the power and theresistance move when one exceeds the other, cannot be obvious, withoutthey pass through much larger spaces than levers will permit. EXPERIMENT V. Place the sledge on the farthest end of the wooden road--Plate 2. Fig. 1. --fasten a rope to the sledge, and conduct it through the lowestpulley P 4, and through the pulley P 3, so as that the boy may beenabled to draw it by the rope passed over his shoulder. The sledgemust now be loaded, until the boy can but just advance with shortsteps steadily upon the wooden road; this must be done with care, asthere will be but just room for him beside the rope. He will meet thesledge exactly on the middle of the road, from which he must stepaside to pass the sledge. Let the time of this experiment be noted. Itis obvious that the boy and the sledge move with equal velocity; thereis, therefore, no mechanical advantage obtained by the pulleys. Theweight that he can draw will be about half a hundred, if he weighabout nine stone; but the exact force with which the boy draws, is tobe known by Experiment I. _The wheel and axle. _ This organ is usually called in mechanics, _The axis in peritrochio_. A _hard_ name, which might well be spared, as the word windlass orcapstan would convey a more distinct idea to our pupils. EXPERIMENT VI. To the largest drum, Plate 2. Fig. 1. Fasten a cord, and pass itthrough the pulley P downwards, and through the pulley P 4 to thesledge placed at the end of the wooden road, which is farthest fromthe machine. Let the boy, by a rope fastened to the extremity of oneof the arms of the capstan, and passed over his shoulder, draw thecapstan round; he will wind the rope round the drum, and draw thesledge upon its road. To make the sledge advance twenty-four feet uponits road, the boy must have walked circularly 144 feet, which is sixtimes as far, and he will be able to draw about three hundred weight, which is six times as much as in the last experiment. It may now be pointed out, that the difference of space, passedthrough by the power in this experiment, is exactly equal to thedifference of weight, which the boy could draw without the capstan. EXPERIMENT VII. Let the rope be now attached to the smaller drum; the boy will drawnearly twice as much weight upon the sledge as before, and will gothrough double the space. EXPERIMENT VIII. Where there are a number of boys, let five or six of them, whose powerof drawing (estimated as in Experiment I) amounts to six times as muchas the force of the boy at the capstan, pull at the end of the ropewhich _was_ fastened to the sledge; they will balance the force of theboy at the capstan: either they, or he, by a sudden pull, may advance, but if they pull fairly, there will be no advantage on either part. Inthis experiment, the rope should pass through the pulley P 3, andshould be coiled round the larger drum. And it must be also observed, that in all experiments upon the motion of bodies, in which there ismuch friction, as where a sledge is employed, the results are never souniform as in other circumstances. _The Pulley. _ Upon the pulley we shall say little, as it is in every body's hands, and experiments may be tried upon it without any particular apparatus. It should, however, be distinctly inculcated, that the power is notincreased by a fixed pulley. For this purpose, a wheel without a rim, or, to speak with more propriety, a number of spokes fixed in a nave, should be employed. (Plate 2. Fig. 9. ) Pieces like the heads ofcrutches should be fixed at the ends of these spokes, to receive apiece of girth-web, which is used instead of a cord, because a cordwould be unsteady; and a strap of iron with a hook to it should playupon the centre, by which it may at times be suspended, and from whichat other times a weight may be hung. EXPERIMENT IX. Let the skeleton of a pulley be hung by the iron strap from thetransom of the frame; fasten a piece of web to one of the radii, andanother to the end of the opposite radius. If two boys of equal weightpull these pieces of girth-web, they will balance each other; or twoequal weights hung to these webs, will be in equilibrio. If a pieceof girth-web be put round the uppermost radius, two equal weights hungat the ends of it will remain immoveable; but if either of them bepulled, or if a small additional weight be added to either of them, itwill descend, and the web will apply itself successively to theascending radii, and will detach itself from those that aredescending. If this movement be carefully considered, it will beperceived, that the web, in unfolding itself, acts in the same mannerupon the radii as two ropes would if they were hung to the extremitiesof the opposite radii in succession. The two radii which are opposite, may be considered as a lever of the first sort, where the centre is inthe middle of the lever; as each end moves through an equal space, there is no mechanical advantage. But if this skeleton-pulley beemployed as a common _block_ or _tackle_, its motions and propertieswill be entirely different. EXPERIMENT X. PLATE 2. FIG. 9. Nail a piece of girth-web to a post, at the distance of three or fourfeet from the ground; fasten the other end of it to one of the radii. Fasten another piece of web to the opposite radius, and let a boy holdthe skeleton-pulley suspended by the web; hook weights to the strapthat hangs from the centre. The end of the radius to which the fixedgirth-web is fastened, will remain immoveable; but, if the boy pullsthe web which he holds in his hand upwards, he will be able to liftnearly double the weight, which he can raise from the ground by asimple rope, without the machine, and he will perceive that his handmoves through twice as great a space as the weight ascends: he has, therefore, the mechanical advantage which he would have by a lever ofthe second sort, as in Experiment III. Let a piece of web be put roundthe under radii, let one end of it be nailed to the post, and theother be held by the boy, and it will represent the application of arope to a moveable pulley; if its motion be carefully considered, itwill appear that the radii, as they successively apply themselves tothe web, represent a series of levers of the second kind. A pulley isnothing more than an infinite number of such levers; the cord at oneend of the diameter serving as a fulcrum for the _organ_ during itsprogress. If this _skeleton-pulley_ be used horizontally, instead ofperpendicularly, the circumstances which have been mentioned, willappear more obvious. Upon the wooden road lay down a piece of girth-web; nail one end of itto the road; place the pulley upon the web at the other end of theboard, and, bringing the web over the radii, let the boy, taking holdof it, draw the loaded sledge fastened to the hook at the centre ofthe pulley: he will draw nearly twice as much in this manner as hecould without the pulley. [24] Here the web lying on the road, shows more distinctly, that it isquiescent where the lowest radius touches it; and if the radii, asthey tread upon it, are observed, their points will appear at rest, whilst the centre of the pulley will go as fast as the sledge, and thetop of each radius successively (and the boy's hand which unfolds theweb) will move twice as fast as the centre of the pulley and thesledge. If a person, holding a stick in his hand, observes the relativemotions of the top, and the middle, and the bottom of the stick, whilst he inclines it, he will see that the bottom of the stick has nomotion on the ground, and that the middle has only half the motion ofthe top. This property of the pulley has been dwelt upon, because itelucidates the motion of a wheel rolling upon the ground; and itexplains a common paradox, which appears at first inexplicable. "Thebottom of a rolling wheel never moves _upon_ the road. " This isasserted only of a wheel moving over hard ground, which, in fact, maybe considered rather as laying down its circumference upon the road, than as moving upon it. _The inclined Plane and the Wedge. _ The _inclined plane_ is to be next considered. When a heavy body is tobe raised, it is often convenient to lay a sloping artificial road ofplanks, up which it may be pushed or drawn. This mechanical power, however, is but of little service without the assistance of wheels orrollers; we shall, therefore, speak of it as it is applied in anothermanner, under the name of _the wedge_, which is, in fact, a movinginclined plane; but if it is required to explain the properties of theinclined plane by the panorganon, the wooden road may be raised andset to any inclination that is required, and the sledge may be drawnupon it as in the former experiments. Let one end of a lever, N. Plate 2. Fig. 7. With a wheel at one end ofit, be hinged to the post of the frame, by means of a gudgeon drivenor screwed into the post. To prevent this lever from deviatingsideways, let a slip of wood be connected with it by a nail, whichshall be fast in the lever, but which moves freely in a hole in therail. The other end of this slip must be fastened to a stake driveninto the ground at three or four feet from the lever, at one side ofit, and towards the end in which the wheel is fixed (Plate 2. Fig 10. Which is a _vue d'oiseau_) in the same manner as the treadle of acommon lathe is managed, and as the treadle of a loom is sometimesguided. [25] EXPERIMENT XI. Under the wheel of this lever place an inclined plane or half-wedge(Plate 2. Fig. 7. ) on the wooden road, with rollers under it, toprevent friction;[26] fasten a rope to the foremost end of the wedge, and pass it through the pulleys (P 4. And P 3. ) as in the fifthexperiment. Let a boy draw the sledge by this rope over his shoulder, and he will find, that as it advances it will raise the weightupwards; the wedge is five feet long, and elevated one foot. Now, ifthe perpendicular ascent of the weight, and the space through which headvances, be compared, he will find, that the space through which hehas passed will be five times as great as that through which theweight has ascended; and that _this_ wedge has enabled him to raisefive times as much as he could raise without it, if his strength wereapplied, as in Experiment I, without any mechanical advantage. Bymaking this wedge in two parts hinged together, with a graduated pieceto keep them asunder, the wedge may be adjusted to any givenobliquity; and it will be always found, that the mechanical advantageof the wedge may be ascertained by comparing its perpendicularelevation with its base. If the base of the wedge is 2, 3, 4, 5, orany other number of times greater than its height, it will enable theboy to raise respectively 2, 3, 4, or 5 times more weight than hecould do in Experiment I, by which his power is estimated. _The Screw. _ _The screw_ is an inclined plane wound round a cylinder; the height ofall its revolutions round the cylinder taken together, compared withthe space through which the power that turns it passes, is the measureof its _mechanical advantage_. [27] Let the lever, used in the lastexperiment, be turned in such a manner as to reach from its gudgeon tothe shaft of the Panorganon, guided by an attendant lever as before. (Plate 2. Fig. 8. ) Let the wheel rest upon the lowest _helix_ orthread of the screw: as the arms of the shaft are turned round, thewheel will ascend, and carry up the weight which is fastened to thelever. [28] As the situation of the screw prevents the weight frombeing suspended exactly from the centre of the screw, proper allowancemust be made for this in estimating the force of the screw, ordetermining the mechanical advantage gained by the lever: this can bedone by measuring the perpendicular ascent of the weight, which in allcases is better, and more expeditious, than measuring the parts of amachine, and estimating its force by calculation; because thedifferent diameters of ropes, and other small circumstances, arefrequently mistaken in estimates. The space passed through by the moving power, and by that which itmoves, are infallible data for estimating the powers of engines. Twomaterial subjects of experiments, yet remain for the Panorganon;friction, and wheels of carriages: but we have already extended thisarticle far beyond its just proportion to similar chapters in thiswork. We repeat, that it is not intended in this, or in any other partof our design, to write treatises upon science; but merely to pointout methods for initiating young people in the rudiments of knowledge, and of giving them a clear and distinct view of those principles uponwhich they are founded. No preceptor, who has had experience, willcavil at the superficial knowledge of a boy of twelve or thirteen uponthese subjects; he will perceive, that the general view, which we wishto give our pupils of the useful arts and sciences, must certainlytend to form a taste for literature and investigation. The _sciolist_has learned only to _talk_--we wish to teach our pupils to _think_, upon the various objects of human speculation. The Panorganon may be employed in trying the resistance of air andwater; the force of different muscles; and in a great variety ofamusing and useful experiments. In academies, and private families, itmay be erected in the place allotted for amusement, where it willfurnish entertainment for many a vacant hour. When it has lost itsnovelty, the shaft may from time to time be taken down, and a swingmay be suspended in its place. It may be constructed at the expense offive or six pounds: that which stands before our window, was made forless than three guineas, as we had many of the materials beside us forother purposes. FOOTNOTES: [21] When this question was sometime afterwards repeated to S----, heobserved, that the feather would throw down the castle, if itsswiftness were so great as to make up for its want of weight. [22] Were it thought necessary to make these experiments perfectlyaccurate, a segment of a pulley, the radius of which is half thelength of the scale-beam, should be attached to the end of the beam;upon which the cord may apply itself, and the pulley (P 3) should beraised or lowered, to bring the rope horizontally from the man'sshoulder when in the attitude of drawing. [23] The word _power_ is here used in a popular sense, to denote thestrength or efficacy that is employed to produce an effect by means ofany engine. [24] In all these experiments with the skeleton-pulley, somebody mustkeep it in its proper direction; as from its structure, which iscontrived for illustration, not for practical use, it cannot retainits proper situation without assistance. [25] In a loom this secondary lever is called _a lamb_, by mistake, for _lam_; from _lamina_, a slip of wood. [26] There should be three rollers used; one of them must be placedbefore the sledge, under which it will easily find its place, if thebottom of the sledge near the foremost end is a little sloped upwards. To retain this foremost roller in its place until the sledge meets it, it should be stuck lightly on the road with two small bits of wax orpitch. [27] _Mechanical advantage_ is not a proper term, but our language isdeficient in proper technical terms. The word _power_ is used soindiscriminately, that it is scarcely possible to convey our meaning, without employing it more strictly. [28] In this experiment, the boy should pull as near as possible tothe shaft, within a foot of it, for instance, else he will have suchmechanical advantage as cannot be counterbalanced by any weight whichthe machine would be strong enough to bear. CHAPTER XVIII. CHEMISTRY. In the first attempts to teach chemistry to children, objects shouldbe selected, the principal properties of which may be easilydiscriminated by the senses of touch, taste or smell; and such termsshould be employed as do not require accurate definition. When a child has been caught in a shower of snow, he goes to the fireto warm and dry himself. After he has been before the fire for sometime, instead of becoming dry, he finds that he is wetter than he wasbefore: water drops from his hat and clothes, and the snow with whichhe was covered disappears. If you ask him what has become of the snow, and why he has become wetter, he cannot tell you. Give him a tea-cupof snow, desire him to place it before the fire, he perceives that thesnow melts, that it becomes water. If he puts his finger into thewater, he finds that it is warmer than snow; he then perceives thatthe fire which warmed him, warmed likewise the snow, which thenbecame water; or, in other words, he discovers, that the heat whichcame from the fire goes into the snow and melts it: he thus acquiresthe idea of the dissolution of snow by heat. If the cup containing the water, or melted snow, be taken from thefire, and put out of the window on a frosty day, he perceives, that intime the water grows colder; that a thin, brittle skin spreads overit; which grows thicker by degrees, till at length all the waterbecomes ice; and if the cup be again put before the fire, the icereturns to water. Thus he discovers, that by diminishing the heat ofwater, it becomes ice; by adding heat to ice, it becomes water. A child watches the drops of melted sealing-wax as they fall uponpaper. When he sees you stir the wax about, and perceives, that whatwas formerly hard, now becomes soft and very hot, he will apply hisformer knowledge of the effects of heat upon ice and snow, and he willtell you that the heat of the candle melts the wax. By these means, the principle of the solution of bodies by heat, will be imprintedupon his memory; and you may now enlarge his ideas of solution. When a lump of sugar is put into a dish of hot tea, a child sees thatit becomes less and less, till at last it disappears. What has becomeof the sugar? Your pupil will say that it is melted by the heat of thetea: but if it be put into cold tea, or cold water, he will find thatit dissolves, though more slowly. You should then show him some finesand, some clay, and chalk, thrown into water; and he will perceivethe difference between mechanical mixture and diffusion, or chemicalmixture. Chemical mixture, as that of sugar in water, depends upon theattraction that subsists between the parts of the solid and fluidwhich are combined. Mechanical mixture is only the suspension of theparts of a solid in a fluid. When fine sand, chalk, or clay, are putinto water, the water continues for some time turbid or muddy; but bydegrees the sand, &c. Falls to the bottom, and the water becomesclear. In the chemical mixture of sugar and water, there is nomuddiness, the fluid is clear and transparent, even whilst it isstirred, and when it is at rest, there is no sediment, the sugar isjoined with the water; a new, fluid substance, is formed out of thetwo simple bodies sugar and water, and though the parts which composethe mixture are not discernible to the eye, yet they are perceptibleby the taste. After he has observed the mixture, the child should be asked, whetherhe knows any method by which he can separate the sugar from the water. In the boiling of a kettle of water, he has seen the steam whichissues from the mouth of the vessel; he knows that the steam is formedby the heat from the fire, which joining with the water drives itsparts further asunder, and makes it take another form, that of vapouror steam. He may apply this knowledge to the separation of the sugarand water; he may turn the water into steam, and the sugar will beleft in the vessel in a solid form. If, instead of evaporating thewater, the boy had added a greater quantity of sugar to the mixture, he would have seen, that after a certain time, the water would havedissolved no more of the sugar; the superfluous sugar would fall tothe bottom of the vessel as the sand had done: the pupil should thenbe told that the liquid is _saturated_ with the solid. By these simple experiments, a child may acquire a general knowledgeof solution, evaporation, and saturation, without the formality of alecture, or the apparatus of a chemist. In all your attempts toinstruct him in chemistry, the greatest care should be taken that heshould completely understand one experiment, before you proceed toanother. The common metaphorical expression, that the mind should havetime to digest the food which it receives, is founded upon fact andobservation. Our pupil should see the solution of a variety of substances influids, as salt in water; marble, chalk, or alkalies, in acids; andcamphire in spirits of wine: this last experiment he may try byhimself, as it is not dangerous. Certainly many experiments aredangerous, and therefore unfit for children; but others may beselected, which they may safely try without any assistance; and thedangerous experiments may, when they are necessary, be shown to themby some careful person. Their first experiments should be such as theycan readily execute, and of which the result may probably besuccessful: this success will please and interest the pupils, and willencourage them to perseverance. A child may have some spirit of wine and some camphire given to him;the camphire will dissolve in the spirit of wine, till the spirit issaturated; but then he will be at a loss how to separate them again. To separate them, he must pour into the mixture a considerablequantity of water; he will immediately see the liquor, which wastransparent, become muddy and white: this is owing to the separationof the camphire from the spirit; the camphire falls to the bottom ofthe vessel in the form of a curd. If the child had weighed thecamphire, both before and after its solution, he would have found theresult nearly the same. He should be informed, that this _chemicaloperation_ (for technical terms should now be used) is called_precipitation_: the substance that is separated from the mixture bythe introduction of another body, is cast down, or precipitated fromthe mixture. In this instance, the spirit of wine attracted thecamphire, and therefore dissolved it. When the water was poured in, the spirit of wine attracted the water more strongly than it did thecamphire; the camphire being let loose, fell to the bottom of thevessel. The pupil has now been shown two methods, by which a solid may beseparated from a fluid in which it has been dissolved. A still should now be produced, and the pupil should be instructed inthe nature of distillation. By experiments he will learn thedifference between the _volatility_ of different bodies; or, in otherwords, he will learn that some are made fluid, or are turned intovapour, by a greater or less degree of heat than others. The degreesof heat should be shown to him by the thermometer, and the use of thethermometer, and its nature, should be explained. As the pupil alreadyknows that most bodies expand by heat, he will readily understand, that an increase of heat extends the mercury in the bulb of thethermometer, which, having no other space for its expansion, rises inthe small glass tube; and that the degree of heat to which it isexposed, is marked by the figures on the scale of the instrument. The business of distillation, is to separate the more volatile fromthe less volatile of two bodies. The whole mixture is put into avessel, under which there is fire: the most volatile liquor beginsfirst to turn into vapour, and rises into a higher vessel, which, being kept cold by water or snow, condenses the evaporated fluid;after it has been condensed, it drops into another vessel. In theexperiment that the child has just tried, after having separated thecamphire from the spirit of wine by precipitation, he may separate thespirit from the water by distillation. When the substance that rises, or that is separated from other bodies by heat, is a solid, or whenwhat is collected after the operation, is solid, the process is notcalled distillation, but sublimation. Our pupil may next be made acquainted with the general qualities ofacids and alkalies. For instructing him in this part of chemistry, definition should as much as possible be avoided; example, and occulardemonstration, should be pursued. Who would begin to explain by wordsthe difference between an acid and an alkali, when these can be shownby experiments upon the substances themselves? The first greatdifference which is perceptible between an acid and an alkali, istheir taste. Let a child have a distinct perception of the differenceof their tastes; let him be able to distinguish them when his eyesare shut; let him taste the strongest of each so as not to hurt him, and when he has once acquired distinct notions of the pungent taste ofan alkali, and of the sour taste of an acid, he will never forget thedifference. He must afterwards see the effects of an acid and alkalion the blue colour of vegetables at _separate times_, and not on thesame day; by these means he will more easily remember the experiments, and he will not confound their different results. The blue colour ofvegetables is turned red by acids, and green by alkalies. Let yourpupil take a radish, and scrape off the blue part into water; itshould be left for some time, until the water becomes of a bluecolour: let him pour some of this liquor into two glasses; add vinegaror lemon juice to one of them, and the liquor will become red;dissolve some alkali in water, and pour this into the other glass, andthe dissolved radish will become green. If into the red mixture alkalibe poured, the colour will change into green; and if into the liquorwhich was made green, acid be poured, the colour will change to red:thus alternately you may pour acid or alkali, and produce a red orgreen colour successively. Paper stained with the blue colour ofvegetables, is called _test_ paper; this is changed by the leastpowerful of the acids or alkalies, and will, therefore, be peculiarlyuseful in the first experiments of our young pupils. A child shouldfor safety use the weakest acids in his first trials, but he should beshown that the effects are similar, whatever acids we employ; only thecolour will be darker when we make use of the strong, than when we usethe weak acids. By degrees the pupil should be accustomed to employthe strong acids; such as the vitriolic, the nitric, and the muriatic, which three are called fossil acids, to distinguish them from thevegetable, or weaker acids. We may be permitted to advise the youngchemist to acquire the habit of wiping the neck of the vessel out ofwhich he pours any strong acid, as the drops of the liquor will notthen burn his hand when he takes hold of the bottle; nor will theyinjure the table upon which he is at work. This custom, trivial as itmay seem, is of advantage, as it gives an appearance of order, and ofease, and steadiness, which are all necessary in trying chemicalexperiments. The little pupil may be told, that the custom which wehave just mentioned, is the constant practice of the great chemist, Dr. Black. We should take care how we first use the term _salt_ in speaking tochildren, lest they should acquire indistinct ideas: he should betold, that the kind of salt which he eats is not the only salt in theworld; he may be put in mind of the kind of salts which he has, perhaps, smelt in smelling-bottles; and he should be further told, that there are a number of earthy, alkaline, and metallic salts, withwhich he will in time become acquainted. When an acid is put upon an alkali, or upon limestone, chalk, ormarle, a bubbling may be observed, and a noise is heard; a childshould be told, that this is called _effervescence_. After some timethe effervescence ceases, and the limestone, &c. Is dissolved in theacid. This effervescence, the child should be informed, arises fromthe escape of a considerable quantity of a particular sort of air, called fixed air, or carbonic acid gas. In the solution of the lime inthe acid, the lime and acid have an attraction for one another; but asthe present mixture has no attraction for the gas, it escapes, and inrising, forms the bubbling or effervescence. This may be proved to achild, by showing him, that if an acid is poured upon caustic lime(lime which has had this gas taken from it by fire) there will be noeffervescence. There are various other chemical experiments with which children mayamuse themselves; they may be employed in analyzing marle, or clays;they may be provided with materials for making ink or soap. It shouldbe pointed out to them, that the common domestic and culinaryoperations of making butter and cheese, baking, brewing, &c. Are allchemical processes. We hope the reader will not imagine, that we havein this slight sketch pretended to point out the _best_ experimentswhich can be devised for children; we have only offered a few of thesimplest which occurred to us, that parents may not, at the conclusionof this chapter, exclaim, "What is to be done? How are we to _begin_?What experiments are suited to children? If we knew, our childrenshould try them. " It is of little consequence what particular experiment is selected forthe first; we only wish to show, that the minds of children may beturned to this subject; and that, by accustoming them to observation, we give them not only the power of learning what has been alreadydiscovered, but of adding, as they grow older, something to thegeneral stock of human knowledge. CHAPTER XIX. ON PUBLIC AND PRIVATE EDUCATION. The anxious parent, after what has been said concerning tasks andclassical literature, will inquire whether the whole plan of educationrecommended in the following pages, is intended to relate to public orto private education. It is intended to relate to both. It is notusual to send children to school before they are eight or nine yearsold: our first object is to show how education may be conducted tothat age in such a manner, that children may be well prepared for theacquisition of all the knowledge usually taught at schools, and may beperfectly free from many of the faults that pupils sometimes haveacquired before they are sent to any public seminary. It is obvious, that public preceptors would be saved much useless labour and anxiety, were parents to take some pains in the previous instruction of theirchildren; and more especially, if they were to prevent them fromlearning a taste for total idleness, or habits of obstinacy and offalsehood, which can scarcely be conquered by the utmost care andvigilance. We can assure parents, from experience, that if they pursuesteadily a proper plan with regard to the understanding and the moralhabits, they will not have much trouble with the education of theirchildren after the age we have mentioned, as long as they continue toinstruct them at home; and if they send them to public schools, theirsuperiority in intellect and in conduct will quickly appear. Though wehave been principally attentive to all the circumstances which can beessential to the management of young people during the first nine orten years of their lives, we have by no means confined ourobservations to this period alone; but we have endeavoured to laybefore parents a general view of the human mind (as far as it relatesto our subject) of proper methods of teaching, and of the objects ofrational instruction--so that they may extend the principles which wehave laid down, through all the succeeding periods of education, andmay apply them as it may best suit their peculiar situations, or theirpeculiar wishes. We are fully conscious, that we have executed butvery imperfectly even our own design; that experimental education isyet but in its infancy, and that boundless space for improvementremains; but we flatter ourselves, that attentive parents andpreceptors will consider with candour the practical assistance whichis offered to them, especially as we have endeavoured to express ouropinions without dogmatical presumption, and without the illiberalexclusion of any existing institutions or prevailing systems. Peoplewho, even with the best intentions, attack with violence any of these, and who do not consider what is practicable, as well as what ought tobe done, are not likely to persuade, or to convince mankind toincrease the general sum of happiness, or their own portion offelicity. Those who really desire to be of service to society, shouldpoint out decidedly, but with temperate indulgence for the feelingsand opinions of others, whatever appears to them absurd orreprehensible in any prevailing customs: having done this, they willrest in the persuasion that what is most reasonable, will ultimatelyprevail. Mankind, at least the prudent and rational part of mankind, have anaversion to pull down, till they have a moral certainty that they canbuild up a better edifice than that which has been destroyed. Wouldyou, says an eminent writer, convince me, that the house I live in isa bad one, and would you persuade me to quit it; build a better in myneighbourhood; I shall be very ready to go into it, and shall returnyou my very sincere thanks. Till another house be ready, a wise manwill stay in his old one, however inconvenient its arrangement, however seducing the plans of the enthusiastic projector. We do notset up for projectors, or reformers: we wish to keep steadily in viewthe actual state of things, as well as our own hopes of progressiveimprovement; and to seize and combine all that can be immediatelyserviceable: all that can assist, without precipitating improvements. Every well informed parent, and every liberal school-master, must besensible, that there are many circumstances in the management ofpublic education which might be condemned with reason; that too muchtime is sacrificed to the study of the learned languages; that toolittle attention is paid to the general improvement of theunderstanding and formation of the moral character; that aschool-master cannot pay attention to the temper or habits of each ofhis numerous scholars; and that parents, during that portion of theyear which their children spend with them, are not sufficientlysolicitous to co-operate with the views of the school-master; so thatthe public is counteracted by the private education. These, and manyother things, we have heard objected to schools; but what are we toput in the place of schools? How are vast numbers who are occupiedthemselves in public or professional pursuits, how are men in businessor in trade, artists or manufacturers, to educate their families, whenthey have not time to attend to them; when they may not thinkthemselves perfectly prepared to undertake the classical instructionand entire education of several boys; and when, perhaps, they may notbe in circumstances to engage the assistance of such a preceptor asthey could approve? It is obvious, that if in such situations parentswere to attempt to educate their children at home, they would harassthemselves, and probably spoil their pupils irrecoverably. It would, therefore, be in every respect impolitic and cruel to disgust thosewith public schools, who have no other resource for the education oftheir families. There is another reason which has perhaps operatedupon many in the middle ranks of life unperceived, and whichdetermines them in favour of public education. Persons of narrowfortune, or persons who have acquired wealth in business, are oftendesirous of breeding up their sons to the liberal professions: andthey are conscious that the company, the language, and the style oflife, which their children would be accustomed to at home, are beneathwhat would be suited to their future professions. Public schoolsefface this rusticity, and correct the faults of provincial dialect:in this point of view they are highly advantageous. We stronglyrecommend it to such parents to send their children to large publicschools, to Rugby, Eton, or Westminster; not to any small school; muchless to one in their own neighbourhood. Small schools are apt to befilled with persons of nearly the same stations, and out of the sameneighbourhood: from this circumstance, they contribute to perpetuateuncouth antiquated idioms, and many of those obscure prejudices whichcloud the intellect in the future business of life. Whilst we admit the necessity which compels the largest portion ofsociety to prefer public seminaries of education, it is incumbent uponus to caution parents from expecting that the moral character, theunderstandings, or the tempers of their children, should be improvedat large schools; there the learned languages, we acknowledge, aresuccessfully taught. Many satisfy themselves with the assertion, thatpublic education is the least troublesome, that a boy once sent toschool is settled for several years of life, and will require onlyshort returns of parental care twice a year at the holydays. It ishardly to be supposed, that those who think in this manner, shouldhave paid any anxious, or at least any judicious attention to theeducation of their children, previously to sending them to school. Itis not likely that they should be very solicitous about thecommencement of an education which they never meant to finish: theywould think, that what could be done during the first few years oflife, is of little consequence; that children from four to seven yearsold are too young to be taught; and that a school would speedilysupply all deficiencies, and correct all those faults which begin atthat age to be troublesome at home. Thus to a public school, as to ageneral infirmary for mental disease, all desperate subjects are sent, as the last resource. They take with them the contagion of theirvices, which quickly runs through the whole tribe of their companions, especially amongst those who happen to be nearly of their own age, whose sympathy peculiarly exposes them to the danger of infection. Weare often told, that as young people have the strongest sympathy witheach other, they will learn most effectually from each other'sexample. They do learn quickly from example, and this is one of thedangers of a public school: a danger which is not necessary, butincidental; a danger against which no school-master can possiblyguard, but which parents can, by the previous education of the pupils, prevent. Boys are led, driven, or carried to school; and in aschool-room they first meet with those who are to be their fellowprisoners. They do not come with fresh unprejudiced minds to commencetheir course of social education; they bring with them all the ideasand habits which they have already learned at their respective homes. It is highly unreasonable to expect, that all these habits should bereformed by a public preceptor. If he had patience, how could he havetime for such an undertaking? Those who have never attempted to breaka pupil of any one bad habit, have no idea of the degree of patiencerequisite to success. We once heard an officer of dragoons assert, that he would rather break twenty horses of their bad habits, than oneman of his. The proportionate difficulty of teaching boys, may beeasily calculated. It is sometimes asserted, that the novelty of a school life, thechange of situation, alters the habits, and forms in boys a newcharacter. Habits of eight or nine years standing, cannot beinstantaneously, perhaps can never be radically, destroyed; they willmix themselves imperceptibly with the new ideas which are planted intheir minds, and though these may strike the eye by the rapidity oftheir growth, the others, which have taken a strong root, will noteasily be dispossessed of the soil. In this new character, as it iscalled, there will, to a discerning eye, appear a strong mixture ofthe old disposition. The boy, who at home lived with his father'sservants, and was never taught to have any species of literature, willnot acquire a taste for it at school, merely by being compelled tolearn his lessons; the boy, who at home was suffered to be the littletyrant of a family, will, it is true, be forced to submit to superiorstrength or superior numbers at school;[29] but does it improve thetemper to practise alternately the habits of a tyrant and a slave? Thelesson which experience usually teaches to the temper of a school-boy, is, that strength, and power, and cunning, will inevitably govern insociety: as to reason, it is out of the question, it would be hissedor laughed out of the company. With respect to social virtues, theyare commonly amongst school-boys so much mixed with party spirit, thatthey mislead even the best dispositions. A boy at home, whosepleasures are all immediately connected with the idea of self, willnot feel a sudden enlargement of mind from entering a public school. He will, probably, preserve his selfish character in his new society;or, even suppose he catches that of his companions, the progress isnot great in moral education from selfishness to spirit of party: theone is a despicable, the other a dangerous, principle of action. Ithas been observed, that what we are when we are twenty, depends onwhat we were when we were ten years old. What a young man is atcollege, depends upon what he was at school; and what he is at school, depends upon what he was before he went to school. In his father'shouse, the first important lessons, those which decide his futureabilities and character, must be learned. We have repeated this idea, and placed it in different points of view, in hopes that it will catchand fix the attention. Suppose that parents educated their childrenwell for the first eight or nine years of their lives, and then sentthem all to public seminaries, what a difference this must immediatelymake in public education: the boys would be disposed to improvethemselves with all the ardour which the most sanguine preceptor woulddesire; their tutors would find that there was nothing to be_unlearned_; no habits of idleness to conquer; no perverse stupiditywould provoke them; no capricious contempt of application would appearin pupils of the quickest abilities. The moral education could then bemade a part of the preceptor's care, with some hopes of success; thepupils would all have learned the first necessary moral principles andhabits; they would, consequently, be all fit companions for eachother; in each other's society they would continue to be governed bythe same ideas of right and wrong by which they had been governed alltheir lives; they would not have any new character to learn; theywould improve, by mixing with numbers, in the social virtues, withoutlearning party spirit; and though they would love their companions, they would not, therefore, combine together to treat their instructersas pedagogues and tyrants. This may be thought an Utopian idea of aschool; indeed it is very improbable, that out of the numbers ofparents who send their children to large schools, many should suddenlybe much moved, by any thing that we can say, to persuade them to takeserious trouble in their previous instruction. But much may beeffected by gradual attempts. Ten well educated boys, sent to a publicseminary at nine or ten years old, would, probably, far surpass theircompetitors in every respect; they would inspire others with so muchemulation, would do their parents and preceptors so much credit, thatnumbers would eagerly inquire into the causes of their superiority;and these boys would, perhaps, do more good by their example, than bytheir actual acquirements. We do not mean to promise, that a boyjudiciously educated, shall appear at ten years old a prodigy oflearning; far from it: we should not even estimate his capacity, orthe chain of his future progress, by the quantity of knowledge storedin his memory, by the number of Latin lines he had got by rote, by hisexpertness in repeating the rules of his grammar, by his pointing outa number of places readily in a map, or even by his knowing thelatitude and longitude of all the capital cities in Europe; these areall useful articles of knowledge: but they are not the test of a goodeducation. We should rather, if we were to examine a boy of ten yearsold, for the credit of his parents, produce proofs of his being ableto reason accurately, of his quickness in invention, of his habits ofindustry and application, of his having learned to generalize hisideas, and to apply his observations and his principles: if we foundthat he had learned all, or any of these things, we should be inlittle pain about grammar, or geography, or even Latin; we should betolerably certain that he would not long remain deficient in any ofthese; we should know that he would overtake and surpass a competitorwho had only been technically taught, as certainly as that the giantwould overtake the panting dwarf, who might have many miles the startof him in the race. We do not mean to say, that a boy should not betaught the principles of grammar, and some knowledge of geography, atthe same time that his understanding is cultivated in the mostenlarged manner: these objects are not incompatible, and weparticularly recommend it to _parents who intend to send theirchildren to school_, early to give them confidence in themselves, bysecuring the rudiments of literary education; otherwise their pupils, with a real superiority of understanding, may feel depressed, and may, perhaps, be despised, when they mix at a public school with numberswho will estimate their abilities merely by their proficiency inparticular studies. Mr. Frend, [30] in recommending the study of arithmetic for youngpeople, has very sensibly remarked, that boys bred up in publicschools, are apt to compare themselves with each other merely asclassical scholars; and, when they afterwards go into the worldexcellent Greek and Latin scholars, are much astonished to perceive, that many of the companions whom they had under-valued at school, getbefore them when they come to actual business, and to active life. Many, in the pursuit of their classical studies, have neglected allother knowledge, especially that of arithmetic, that useful, essentialbranch of knowledge, without which neither the abstract sciences norpractical arts can be taught. The precision which the habit ofapplying the common rules of arithmetic, gives to the understanding, is highly advantageous, particularly to young people of vivacity, or, as others would say, of genius. The influence which the habit ofestimating has upon that part of the moral character called prudence, is of material consequence. We shall further explain upon this subjectwhen we speak of the means of teaching arithmetic and reasoning tochildren; we only mention the general ideas here, to induceintelligent parents to attend early to these particulars. If they meanto send their children to public classical schools, it must bepeculiarly advantageous to teach them early the rudiments ofarithmetic, and to give them the habit of applying their knowledge inthe common business of life. We forbear to enumerate other usefulthings, which might easily be taught to young people before they leavehome, because we do not wish to terrify with the apprehension, that aperplexing variety of things are to be taught. One thing well taught, is better than a hundred taught imperfectly. The effect of the pains which are taken in the first nine or ten yearsof a child's life, may not be apparent immediately to the view, but itwill gradually become visible. To careless observers, two boys of nineyears old, who have been very differently educated, may appear nearlyalike in abilities, in temper, and in the promise of future character. Send them both to a large public school, let them be placed in thesame new situation, and exposed to the same trials, the differencewill then appear: the difference in a few years will be such as tostrike every eye, and people will wonder what can have produced in soshort a time such an amazing change. In the Hindoo art of dyeing, thesame liquors communicate different colours to particular spots, according to the several bases previously applied: to the ignoranteye, no difference is discernible in the ground, nor can the design bedistinctly traced till the air, and light, and open exposure, bringout the bright and permanent colours to the wondering eye of thespectator. Besides bestowing some attention upon early education, parents, whosend their children to school, may much assist the public preceptorby judicious conduct towards children during that portion of the yearwhich is usually spent at home. [31] Mistaken parental fondness, delights to make the period of time which children spend at home, asstriking a contrast as possible with that which they pass at school. The holydays are made a jubilee, or rather resemble the Saturnalia. Even if parents do not wish to represent a school-master as a tyrant, they are by no means displeased to observe, that he is not the friendor favourite of their children. They put themselves in meancompetition with him for their affection, instead of co-operating withhim in all his views for their advantage. How is it possible, that anymaster can long retain the wish or the hope of succeeding in any planof education, if he perceives that his pupils are but partially underhis government; if his influence over their minds be counteracted fromtime to time by the superior influence of their parents? An influencewhich he must not wish to destroy. To him is left the power to punish, it is true; but parents reserve to themselves the privilege to reward. The ancients did not suppose, that even Jupiter could govern the worldwithout the command of pain and pleasure. Upon the vases near histhrone, depended his influence over mankind. And what are these holyday delights? And in what consists parentalrewards? In dissipation and idleness. With these are consequentlyassociated the idea of happiness and the name of pleasure; the name isoften sufficient, without the reality. During the vacation, childrenhave a glimpse of what is called _the world_; and then are sent backto their prison with heads full of visions of liberty, and with asecond-sight of the blessed lives which they are to lead when theyhave left school for ever. What man of sense, who has studied thehuman mind, who knows that the success of any plan of education mustdepend upon the concurrence of every person, and every circumstance, for years together, to the same point, would undertake any thing morethan the partial instruction of pupils, whose leading associations andhabits must be perpetually broken? When the work of school is undoneduring the holydays, what hand could have the patience perpetually torepair the web? During the vacations spent at home, children may be made extremelyhappy in the society and in the affections of their friends, but theyneed not be taught, that idleness is pleasure: on the contrary, occupation should, by all possible methods, be rendered agreeable tothem; their school acquisitions, their knowledge and taste, should bedrawn out in conversation, and they should be made to feel the valueof what they have been taught; by these means, there would be someconnection, some unity of design, preserved in their education. Theirschool-masters and tutors should never become the theme of insipidridicule; nor should parents ever put their influence in competitionwith that of a preceptor: on the contrary, his pupils should uniformlyperceive, that from his authority there is no appeal, except to thesuperior power of reason, which should be the avowed arbiter to whichall should be submitted. Some of the dangerous effects of that mixed society at schools, ofwhich we have complained, may be counteracted by the judicious conductof parents during the time which children spend at home. A better viewof society, more enlarged ideas of friendship and of justice, may begiven to young people, and the vile principle of party spirit may betreated with just contempt and ridicule. Some standard, some rules maybe taught to them, by which they may judge of character independentlyof prejudice, or childish prepossession. "I do not like you, Doctor Fell; The reason why, I cannot tell: But this I know full well, I do not like you, Doctor Fell"-- is an exact specimen of the usual mode of reasoning, of the usualmethod in which an ill educated school-boy expresses his opinion andfeelings about all persons, and all things. "The reason why, " shouldalways be inquired whenever children express preference or aversion. To connect the idea of childhood with that of inferiority andcontempt, is unjust and impolitic; it should not be made a reproach toyoung people to be young, nor should it be pointed out to them, thatwhen they are some years older, they will be more respected; thedegree of respect which they really command, whether in youth or age, will depend upon their own conduct, their knowledge, and their powersof being useful and agreeable to others. If they are convinced ofthis, children will not at eight years old long to be fifteen, or atfifteen to be one and twenty; proper subordination would be preserved, and the scale of happiness would not have a forced and falseconnection with that of age. If parents did not first excite foolishwishes in the minds of their children, and then imprudently promisethat these wishes shall be gratified at certain periods of theirexistence, children would not be impatient to pass over the years ofchildhood; those years which idle boys wish to pass over as quickly aspossible, men without occupation regret as the happiest of theirexistence. To a child, who has been promised that he shall put onmanly apparel on his next birthday, the pace of time is slow and heavyuntil that happy era arrive. Fix the day when a boy shall leaveschool, and he wishes instantly to mount the chariot, and lash thehorses of the sun. Nor when he enters the world, will his restlessspirit be satisfied; the first step gained, he looks anxiously forwardto the height of manly elevation, "And the brisk minor pants for twenty-one" These juvenile anticipations diminish the real happiness of life;those who are in continual expectation, never enjoy the present; thehabit of expectation is dangerous to the mind, it suspends allindustry, all voluntary exertion. Young men, who early acquire thishabit, find existence insipid to them without the immediate stimuli ofhope and fear: no matter what the object is, they must have somethingto sigh for; a curricle, a cockade, or an opera-dancer. Much may be done by education to prevent this boyish restlessness. Parents should refrain from those imprudent promises, and slightinuendoes, which the youthful imagination always misunderstands andexaggerates. --Never let the moment in which a young man quits aseminary of education, be represented as a moment in which allinstruction, labour, and restraints, cease. The idea, that he mustrestrain and instruct himself, that he must complete his owneducation, should be excited in a young man's mind; nor should he besuffered to imagine that his education is finished, because he hasattained to some given age. When a common school-boy bids adieu to that school which he has beentaught to consider as a prison, he exults in his escape from books andmasters, and from all the moral and intellectual discipline, to whichhe imagines that it is the peculiar disgrace and misery of childhoodto be condemned. He is impatient to be thought a man, but his ideas ofthe manly character are erroneous, consequently his ambition will onlymislead him. From his companions whilst at school, from his father'sacquaintance, and his father's servants, with whom he has beensuffered to consort during the vacations, he has collected imperfectnotions of life, fashion, and society. These do not mix well in hismind with the examples and precepts of Greek and Roman virtue: atemporary enthusiasm may have been kindled in his soul by theeloquence of antiquity; but, for want of sympathy, this enthusiasmnecessarily dies away. His heroes are not the heroes of the presenttimes; the maxims of his sages are not easily introduced into theconversation of the day. At the tea-table he now seldom hears eventhe name of Plato; and he often blushes for not knowing a line from apopular English poet, whilst he could repeat a cento from Horace, Virgil, and Homer; or an antistrophe from Æschylus or Euripides. Hefeels ashamed to produce the knowledge he has acquired, because he hasnot learned sufficient address to produce it without pedantry. On hisentrance into the world, there remains in his mind no grateful, noaffectionate, no respectful remembrance of those under whose care hehas passed so many years of his life. He has escaped from therestraints imposed by his school-master, and the connection isdissolved for ever. But when a son separates from his father, if he has been welleducated, he wishes to continue his own education: the course of hisideas is not suddenly broken; what he has been, joins immediately withwhat he is to be; his knowledge applies to real life, it is such as hecan use in all companies; there is no sudden metamorphosis in any ofthe objects of his ambition; the boy and man are the same individual. Pleasure will not influence him merely by her name, or by the contrastof her appearance with the rigid discipline of scholastic learning; hewill feel the difference between pleasure and happiness, and his earlytaste for domestic life will remain or return upon his mind. His oldprecepts and new motives are not at war with each other; hisexperience will confirm his education, and external circumstances willcall forth his latent virtues. When he looks back, he can trace thegradual growth of his knowledge; when he looks forward, it is with thedelightful hope of progressive improvement. A desire in some degree torepay the care, to deserve the esteem, to fulfil the animatingprophecies, or to justify the fond hopes of the parent who has watchedover his education, is one of the strongest motives to an ingenuousyoung man; it is an incentive to exertion in every honourable pursuit. A son who has been judiciously and kindly educated, will feel thevalue of his father's friendship. The perception, that no man can bemore entirely interested in every thing that concerns him, the idea, that no one more than his father can share in his glory or in hisdisgrace, will press upon his heart, will rest upon his understanding. Upon these ideas, upon this common family interest, the real strengthof the connection between a father and his son depends. No publicpreceptor can have the same advantages; his connection with his pupilis not necessarily formed to last. After having spoken with freedom, but we hope with moderation, ofpublic schools, we may, perhaps, be asked our opinion of universities. Are universities the most splendid repositories of learning? We arenot afraid to declare an opinion in the negative. Smith, in his Wealthof Nations, has stated some objections to them, we think, withunanswerable force of reasoning. We do not, however, wish to destroywhat we do not entirely approve. Far be that insanity from our mindswhich would, like Orlando, tear up the academic groves; the madness ofinnovation is as destructive as the bigotry of ancient establishments. The learning and the views of the rising century must have differentobjects from those of the wisdom and benevolence of Alfred, Balsham, or Wolsey; and, without depreciating or destroying the magnificence orestablishments of universities, may not their institutions beimproved? May not their splendid halls echo with other sounds than theexploded metaphysics of the schools? And may not other learning be asmuch rewarded and esteemed as pure _latinity_? We must here distinctly point out, that young men designed for thearmy or the navy, should not be educated in private families. Thedomestic habits, the learned leisure of private education, areunsuited to them; it would be absurd to waste many years in teachingthem the elegancies of classic literature, which can probably be of noessential use to them; it would be cruel to give them a nice andrefined choice of right and wrong, when it will be their professionalduty to act under the command of others; when implicit, prompt, unquestioning obedience must be their first military virtue. Militaryacademies, where the sciences practically essential to the professionsare taught, must be the best situations for all young sailors andsoldiers; strict institution is the best education for them. We do nothere inquire how far these professions are necessary in society; it isobvious, that in the present state of European cultivation, soldiersand sailors are indispensable to every nation. We hope, however, thata taste for peace may, at some future period in the history of theworld, succeed to the passion for military glory; and in the meantime, we may safely recommend it to parents, never to trust a youngman designed for a soldier, to the care of a philosopher, even if itwere possible to find one who would undertake the charge. We hope that we have shown ourselves the friends of the publicpreceptor, that we have pointed out the practicable means of improvingpublic institutions by parental care and parental co-operation. But, until such a meliorating plan shall actually have been carried intoeffect, we cannot hesitate to assert, that even when the abilities ofthe parent are inferiour to those of the public preceptor, the meansof ensuring success preponderate in favour of private education. Afather, who has time, talents, and temper, to educate his family, iscertainly the best possible preceptor; and his reward will be thehighest degree of domestic felicity. If, from his situation, he isobliged to forego this reward, he may select some man of literature, sense, and integrity, to whom he can confide his children. Opulentfamilies should not think any reward too munificent for such a privatepreceptor. Even in an economic point of view, it is prudent tocalculate how many thousands lavished on the turf, or lost at thegaming table, might have been saved to the heirs of noble and wealthyfamilies by a judicious education. FOOTNOTES: [29] V. Barne's Essay on public and private education. ManchesterSociety. [30] V. Mr. Frend's Principles of Algebra. [31] V. Williams's Lectures on Education. CHAPTER XX. ON FEMALE ACCOMPLISHMENTS, MASTERS, AND GOVERNESSES. Some years ago, an opera dancer at Lyon's, whose charms were upon thewane, applied to an English gentleman for a recommendation to some ofhis friends in England, as a governess for young ladies. "Do youdoubt, " said the lady (observing that the gentleman was somewhatconfounded by the easy assurance of her request) "do you doubt mycapability? Do I not speak good Parisian French? Have I any provincialaccent? I will undertake to teach the language grammatically. And formusic and dancing, without vanity, may I not pretend to teach them toany young person?" The lady's excellence in all these particulars wasunquestionable. She was beyond dispute a highly accomplished woman. Pressed by her forcible interrogatories, the gentleman was compelledto hint, that an English mother of a family might be inconvenientlyinquisitive about the private history of a person who was to educateher daughters. "Oh, " said the lady, "I can change my name; and, at myage, nobody will make further inquiries. " Before we can determine how far this lady's pretensions were illfounded, and before we can exactly decide what qualifications are mostdesirable in a governess, we must form some estimate of the positiveand relative value of what are called accomplishments. We are not going to attack any of them with cynical asperity, or withthe ambition to establish any new dogmatical tenets in the place ofold received opinions. It can, however, do no harm to discuss thisimportant subject with proper reverence and humility. Without alarmingthose mothers, who declare themselves above all things anxious forthe rapid progress of their daughters in every fashionableaccomplishment, it may be innocently asked, what price such mothersare willing to pay for these _advantages_. Any price within the limitsof our fortune! they will probably exclaim. There are other standards by which we can measure the value ofobjects, as well as by money. "Fond mother, would you, if it were inyour power, accept of an opera dancer for your daughter's governess, upon condition that you should live to see that daughter dance thebest minuet at a birth-night ball?" "Not for the world, " replies the mother. "Do you think I would hazardmy daughter's innocence and reputation, for the sake of seeing herdance a good minuet? Shocking! Absurd! What can you mean by such anoutrageous question?" "To fix your attention. Where the mind has not precisely ascertainedits wishes, it is sometimes useful to consider extremes; bydetermining what price you will _not_ pay, we shall at lengthascertain the value which you set upon the object. Reputation andinnocence, you say, you will not, upon any account, hazard. But wouldyou consent that your daughter should, by universal acclamation, beproclaimed the most accomplished woman in Europe, upon the simplecondition, that she should pass her days in a nunnery?" "I should have no right to make such a condition; domestic happiness Iought certainly to prefer to public admiration for my daughter. Heraccomplishments would be of little use to her, if she were to be shutup from the world: who is to be the judge of them in a nunnery?" "I will say no more about the nunnery. But would not you, as a goodmother, consent to have your daughter turned into an automaton foreight hours in every day for fifteen years, for the promise of hearingher, at the end of that time, pronounced the first private performerat the most fashionable and most crowded concert in London?" "Eight hours a day for fifteen years, are too much. No one needpractise so much to become the first performer in England. " "That is another question. You have not told me whether you wouldsacrifice so much of your daughter's existence for such an object, supposing that you could obtain it at no other price. " "For _one_ concert?" says the hesitating mother; "I think it would betoo high a price. Yet I would give any thing to have my daughter playbetter than any one in England. What a distinction! She would beimmediately taken notice of in all companies! She might get into thefirst circles in London! She would want neither beauty nor fortune torecommend her! She would be a match for any man, who has any taste formusic! And music is universally admired, even by those who have themisfortune to have no taste for it. Besides, it is such an elegantaccomplishment in itself! Such a constant source of innocentamusement! Putting every thing else out of the question, I should wishmy daughter to have every possible accomplishment, becauseaccomplishments are such charming _resources_ for young women; theykeep them out of harm's way; they make a vast deal of their idle timepass so pleasantly to themselves and others! This is my _chief_ reasonfor liking them. " Here are so many reasons brought together at once, along with thechief reason, that they are altogether unanswerable; we must separate, class, and consider them one at a time. Accomplishments, it seems, arevaluable, as being the objects of universal admiration. Someaccomplishments have another species of value, as they are tickets ofadmission to fashionable company. Accomplishments have another, and ahigher species of value, as they are supposed to increase a younglady's chance of a prize in the matrimonial lottery. Accomplishmentshave also a value as resources against ennui, as they afford continualamusement and innocent occupation. This is ostensibly their chiefpraise; it deserves to be considered with respect. False and odiousmust be that philosophy which would destroy any one of the innocentpleasures of our existence. No reward was thought too high for theinvention of a new pleasure; no punishment would be thought too severefor those who would destroy an old one. Women are peculiarlyrestrained in their situation, and in their employments, by thecustoms of society: to diminish the number of these employments, therefore, would be cruel; they should rather be encouraged, by allmeans, to cultivate those tastes which can attach them to their home, and which can preserve them from the miseries of dissipation. Everysedentary occupation must be valuable to those who are to leadsedentary lives; and every art, however trifling in itself, whichtends to enliven and embellish domestic life, must be advantageous, not only to the female sex, but to society in general. As far asaccomplishments can contribute to all or any of these excellentpurposes, they must be just objects of attention in early education. A number of experiments have already been tried; let us examine theresult. Out of the prodigious number of young women who learn musicand drawing, for instance, how many are there, who, after they becomemistresses of their own time, and after they have the choice of theirown amusements, continue to practise these accomplishments for thepure pleasure of occupation? As soon as a young lady is married, doesshe not frequently discover, that "she really has not _leisure_ tocultivate talents which take up so much time?" Does she not complainof the labour of practising four or five hours a day to keep up hermusical character? What motive has she for perseverance? She is, perhaps, already tired of playing to all her acquaintance. She mayreally take pleasure in hearing good music; but her own performancewill not then please her ear so much as that of many others. She willprefer the more indolent pleasure of hearing the best music that canbe heard for money at public concerts. She will then of course leaveoff playing, but continue very fond of music. How often is the labourof years thus lost for ever! Those who have excelled in drawing, do not appear to abandon theoccupation so suddenly; it does not demand such an inordinate quantityof time to keep up the talent; the exertion of the imitative powerswith apparent success, is agreeable; the employment is progressive, and, therefore, the mind is carried on to complete what has beenbegun. Independently of all applause, which may be expected for theperformance, there is a pleasure in going on with the work. Butsetting aside enthusiasm and habit, the probability that any sensibleperson will continue to pursue a given employment, must depend, in agreat measure, upon their own conviction of its utility, or of itsbeing agreeable to those whom they wish to please. The pleasure whicha lady's friends receive from her drawings, arises chiefly from theperception of their comparative excellence. Comparative excellence isall to which gentlewomen artists usually pretend, all to which theyexpect to attain; positive excellence is scarcely attained by one in ahundred. Compared with the performances of other young ladies of theiracquaintance, the drawings of Miss X or Y may be justly considered ascharming! admirable! and astonishing! But there are few drawings byyoung ladies which can be compared with those of a professed artist. The wishes of obliging friends are satisfied with a few drawings inhandsome frames, to be hung up for the young lady's credit; and whenit is allowed amongst their acquaintance, that she draws in a_superior_ style, the purpose of this part of her education issatisfactorily answered. We do not here speak of those few individualswho really _excel_ in drawing, who have learnt something more than thecommon routine which is usually learnt from a drawing master, who haveacquired an agreeable, talent, not for the mere purpose of exhibitingthemselves, but for the sake of the occupation it affords, and thepleasure it may give to their _friends_. We have the pleasure ofknowing some who exactly answer to this description, and who must feelthemselves distinct and honourable exceptions to these generalobservations. From whatever cause it arises, we may observe, that after young womenare settled in life, their taste for drawing and music graduallydeclines. For this fact, we can appeal only to the recollection ofindividuals. We may hence form some estimate of the real value whichought to be put upon what are called accomplishments, _considered asoccupations_. Hence we may also conclude, that parents do not formtheir judgments from the facts which they see every day in real life;or else may we not infer, that they deceive themselves as to their ownmotives; and that, amongst the reasons which make them so anxiousabout the accomplishments of their daughters, there are some secretmotives more powerful than those which are usually openlyacknowledged? It is admitted in the cabinet council of mothers, that some share ofthe value of accomplishments depends upon the demand for them in thefashionable world. "A young lady, " they say, "is nobody, and nothing, without accomplishments; they are as necessary to her as a fortune:they are indeed considered as part of her fortune, and sometimes areeven found to supply the place of it. Next to beauty, they are thebest tickets of admission into society which she can produce; andevery body knows, that on the company she keeps, depends the chance ofa young woman's settling advantageously in the world. " To judge of what will please and attach men of superior sense andcharacters--we are not quite certain that these are the men who are tobe considered first, when we speak of a young lady's settling_advantageously_ in the world; but we will take this for granted--tojudge of what will please and attach men of superior sense andcharacters, we must observe their actual conduct in life, and listento their speculative opinions. Superficial accomplishments do notappear to be the objects of their preference. In enumerating theperfections of his wife, or in retracing the progress of his love, does a man of sense dwell upon his mistress's skill in drawing, ordancing, or music? No. These, he tells you, are extremely agreeabletalents, but they could have never attached him; they are subordinateparts in her character; he is angry that you can rank them amongst herperfections; he knows that a thousand women possess theseaccomplishments, who have never touched his heart. He does not, perhaps, deny, that in Chloe, altogether, they have power to please, but he does not think them essential to her power. The opinion of women, who have seen a good deal of the world, is worthattending to upon this subject; especially if we can obtain it whentheir passions are wholly uninterested in their decision. Whatever maybe the judgment of individuals concerning the character and politicsof the celebrated Madame Roland, her opinion as a woman of abilities, and a woman who had seen a variety of life, will be thought deservingof attention. Her book was written at a time when she was in dailyexpectation of death, when she could have no motive to conceal herreal sentiments upon any subject. She gives an account of heremployments in prison, and, amongst others, mentions music anddrawing. "I then employed myself in drawing till dinner time. I had so longbeen out of the habit of using a pencil, that I could not expect to bevery dexterous; but we commonly retain the power of repeating withpleasure, or at least of attempting with ease, whatever we havesuccessfully practised in our youth. Therefore the study of the finearts, considered as a part of female education, should be attended to, much less with a view to the acquisition of superior talents, thanwith a desire to give women a taste for industry, the habit ofapplication, and a greater variety of employments; for these assist usto escape from _ennui_, the most cruel disease of civilized society;by these we are preserved from the dangers of vice, and even fromthose seductions which are far more likely to lead us astray. "I would not make my daughter a _performer_. [32] I remember, that mymother was afraid that I should become a great musician, or that Ishould have devoted myself entirely to painting: she wished that Ishould, above all other things, love the duties of my sex: that Ishould be a good economist, a good mistress, as well as a good motherof a family. I wish my Eudora to be able to accompany her voiceagreeably on the harp. I wish that she may play agreeably on thepiano-forte; that she may know enough of drawing, to feel pleasurefrom the sight and from the examination of the finest pictures of thegreat painters; that she may be able to draw a flower that happens toplease her; and that she may unite in her dress elegance andsimplicity. I should wish that her talents might be such, that theyshould neither excite the admiration of others, nor inspire her withvanity; I should wish that she should please by the general effect ofher whole character, without ever striking any body with astonishmentat first sight; and that she should attach by her good qualities, rather than shine by her accomplishments. " Women cannot foresee what may be the tastes of the individuals withwhom they are to pass their lives. Their own tastes should not, therefore, be early decided; they should, if possible, be so educatedthat they may attain any talent in perfection which they may desire, or which their circumstances may render necessary. If, for instance, awoman were to marry a man who was fond of music, or who admiredpainting, she should be able to cultivate these talents for hisamusement and her own. If he be a man of sense and feeling, he willbe more pleased with the motive than with the thing that is actuallydone. But if it be urged, that all women cannot expect to marry men ofsense and feeling; and if we are told, that nevertheless they mustlook to "an advantageous establishment, " we must conclude, that men ofrank and fortune are meant by that comprehensive phrase. Another setof arguments must be used to those who speculate on their daughtersaccomplishments in this line. They have, perhaps, seen some instancesof what they call success; they have seen some young women of theiracquaintance, whose accomplishments have attracted men of fortunesuperior to their own; consequently, maternal tenderness is awakened, and many mothers are sanguine in their expectations of the effect oftheir daughters education. But they forget that every body now makesthe same reflections, that parents are, and have been for some years, speculating in the same line; consequently, the market is likely to beoverstocked, and, of course, the value of the commodities must fall. Every young lady (and every young woman is now a young lady) has somepretensions to accomplishments. She draws a little; or she plays alittle, or she speaks French a little. Even the blue-board boardingschools, ridiculed by Miss Allscript in the Heiress, profess toperfect young ladies in some or all of these necessary parts ofeducation. Stop at any good inn on the London roads, and you willprobably find that the landlady's daughter can show you some of herown framed drawings, can play a tune upon her spinnet, or support adialogue in French of a reasonable length, in the customary questionsand answers. Now it is the practice in high life to undervalue, andavoid as much as possible, every thing which descends to the inferiourclasses of society. The dress of to-day is unfashionable to-morrow, because every body wears it. The dress is not preferred because it ispretty or useful, but because it is the distinction of well bredpeople. In the same manner accomplishments have lost much of thatvalue which they acquired from opinion, since they have become common. They are now so common, that they cannot be considered as thedistinguishing characteristics of even a gentlewoman's education. Thehigher classes in life, and those individuals who aim at distinction, now establish another species of monopoly, and secure to themselves acertain set of expensive masters in music, drawing, dancing, &c. Andthey endeavour to believe, and to make others believe, that no one canbe well educated without having served an apprenticeship of so manylessons under some of these privileged masters. But it is in vain thatthey intrench themselves, they are pursued by the intrusive vulgar. Ina wealthy, mercantile nation, there is nothing which can be bought formoney, which will long continue to be an envied distinction. The hopeof attaining to that degree of eminence in the fine arts which reallydeserves celebrity, becomes every day more difficult to privatepractitioners, because the number of competitors daily increases; andit is the interest of masters to forward their pupils by everypossible means. Both genius and perseverance must now be united toobtain the prize of distinction; and how seldom are they found, orkept together, in the common course of education! Considering all these circumstances, is not there some reason toapprehend, that in a few years the taste for several fashionableappendages of female education, may change, and that those willconsequently be treated with neglect, who have no other claim topublic regard, than their proficiency in what may, perhaps, then bethought vulgar or obsolete accomplishments? Our great grandmothersdistinguished themselves by truly substantial tent-work chairs andcarpets, by needle-work pictures of Solomon and the queen of Sheba. These were admirable in their day, but their day is over; and theseuseful, ingenious, and laborious specimens of female talents, areconsigned to the garret, or they are produced but as curiosities, toexcite wonder at the strange patience and miserable destiny of formergenerations: the taste for tapestry and embroidery is thus past; thelong labours of the loom have ceased. Cloth-work, crape-work, chenille-work, ribbon-work, wafer-work, with a long train ofetceteras, have all passed away in our own memory; yet these conferredmuch evanescent fame, and a proportional quantity of vain emulation. Ataste for drawing, or music, cannot be classed with any of thesetrifling performances; but there are many faded drawings of thepresent generations, which cannot stand in competition with theglowing and faithful colours of the silk and worsted of former times;and many of the hours spent at a _stammering_ harpsichord, might, surely, with full as much domestic advantage, have been devoted to theembellishment of chairs and carpets. We hope that no one will soperversely misunderstand us, as to infer from these remarks, that wedesire to see the revival of old tapestry work; or that we condemn theelegant accomplishments of music and drawing. We condemn only theabuse of these accomplishments; we only wish that they should beconsidered as domestic occupations, not as matters of competition, orof exhibition, nor yet as the means of attracting temporaryadmiration. We are not afraid that any, who are really conscious ofhaving acquired accomplishments with these prudent and honourableviews, should misapprehend what has been said. Mediocrity may, perhaps, attempt to misrepresent our remarks, and may endeavour tomake it appear that we have attacked, and that we would discourage, every effort of female taste and ingenuity in the fine arts; wecannot, therefore, be too explicit in disclaiming such illiberalviews. We have not yet spoken of dancing, though it is one of the mostadmired of female accomplishments. This evidently is an amusement, notan occupation; it is an agreeable exercise, useful to the health, andadvantageous, as it confers a certain degree of habitual ease andgrace. Mr. Locke seems to think, that it gives young people confidencein themselves when they come into company, and that it is, therefore, expedient to teach children early to dance: but there are so manyother methods of inspiring young people with this confidence inthemselves, that it appears unnecessary to lay much stress upon thisargument. If children live in good company, and see constantly peoplewith agreeable manners, they will acquire manners which the dancingmaster does not always teach; and they will easily vary their forms ofpoliteness with the fashion of the day. Nobody comes into a roomregularly as their dancing master taught them to make their entrance;we should think a strict adherence to his lessons ridiculous andawkward in well bred company; therefore much must be left to thediscretion and taste of the pupil, after the dancing master has madehis last bow. Ease of manners is not always attained by those who havebeen strictly disciplined by a Vestris, because the lessons are notalways practised in precisely the same circumstances in which theywere learnt: this confuses and confounds the pupils, and they ratherlose than gain confidence in themselves, from perceiving that theycannot immediately apply what they have been taught. But we need notexpatiate upon this subject, because there are few parents of goodsense, in any rank of life, who will not perceive that theirdaughter's manners cannot be formed or polished by a dancing-master. We are not to consider dancing in a grave and moral light; it is anamusement much more agreeable to young people, and much better suitedto them in every respect, than cards, or silent assemblies of formalvisiters. It promotes cheerfulness, and prevents, in some measure, thehabits of gossiping conversation, and the love of scandal. So far wemost willingly agree with its most vivacious advocates, in its commoneulogium. But this is not, we fear, saying enough. We see, or fancythat we see, the sober matron lay down her carefully assorted cardsupon the card-table, and with dictatorial solemnity she pronounces, "That dancing is something more than an amusement; that girls mustlearn to dance, because they must appear well in public; because theyoung ladies who dance the best, are usually most _taken notice_ of inpublic; most admired by the other sex; most likely, in short, not onlyto-have their choice of the best partner in a ball room, but sometimesof the best partner for life. " With submission to maternal authority, these arguments do not seem tobe justified of late years. Girls, who dance remarkably well, are, itis true, admired in a ball room, and followed, perhaps, by those idle, thoughtless young men, who frequent public places merely for want ofsomething else to do. This race of beings are not particularlycalculated to make good husbands in any sense of the word; nor arethey usually disposed to think of marriage in any other light than asthe last desperate expedient to repair their injured fortunes. Theyset their wits against the sex in general, and consider themselves asin danger of being jockeyed into the matrimonial state. Some few, perhaps, who have not brought their imagination sufficiently under thecommand of the calculating faculty, are _caught_ by beauty andaccomplishments, and marry against the common rules of interest. Thesemen are considered with pity, or with ridicule, by their companions, as dupes who have suffered themselves to be taken in: others arewarned by their fate; and the future probability of similar _errours_, of course, must be diminished. The fashionable apathy, whether real oraffected, with which young men lounge in public places, with scarcelythe appearance of attention to the fair exhibitors before them, sufficiently marks the temper of the times; and if the female sex havelost any thing of the respect and esteem which ought to be paid tothem in society, they can scarcely expect to regain their properinfluence by concessions to the false and vitiated taste of those whocombine to treat them with neglect bordering upon insolence. If thesystem of female education, if the system of female manners, conspireto show in the fair sex a degrading anxiety to attract worthlessadmiration, wealthy or titled homage, is it surprising that everyyoung man, who has any pretensions to birth, fortune, or fashion, should consider himself as the arbiter of their fate, and the despoticjudge of their merit? Women, who understand their real interests, perceive the causes of the contempt with which the sex is treated byfashionable coxcombs, and they feel some indignation at the meannesswith which this contempt, tacitly or openly expressed, is endured. Women, who feel none of this indignation, and who, either from theireducation, or their circumstances, are only solicitous to obtainpresent amusement, or what they think the permanent advantages of afortunate alliance, will yet find themselves mistaken by persisting intheir thoughtless career; they will not gain even the objects to whichthey aspire. How many accomplished belles run the usual round ofdissipation in all public places of exhibition, tire the public eye, and, after a season or two, fade and are forgotten! How manyaccomplished belles are there, who, having gained the object of theirown, or of their mother's ambition, find themselves doomed to miseryfor life! Those unequal marriages, which are sometimes called_excellent matches_, seldom produce much happiness. And wherehappiness is not, what _is_ all the rest? If all, or any of these reflections, should strike the heart, andconvince the understanding, of an anxious, but reasonable mother, shewill, probably, immediately determine upon her own conduct in theeducation of her daughters: she will resolve to avoid the commonerrours of the frivolous or the interested; she will not be influencedby the importunity of every idle acquaintance, who may talk to her ofthe necessity of her daughter's being taken notice of in public, ofthe chances of an _advantageous_ establishment, of the good fortuneof Miss Y----, or lady Angelina X----, in meeting with a coxcomb or aspendthrift for a husband; nor will she be moved with maternalemulation when she is further told, that these young ladies owed their_success_ entirely to the superiority of their accomplishments: shewill consider, for one moment, what is meant by the word success; shewill, perhaps, not be of opinion that "'tis best repenting in a coachand six;" she will, perhaps, reflect, that even the "soft sounds" oftitled grandeur lose their power to please, and "salute the ear"almost unobserved. The happiness, the permanent happiness of herchild, will be the first, the last object of the good and theenlightened mother: to this all her views and all her efforts willtend; and to this she will make every fashionable, every elegantaccomplishment subservient. As to the means of acquiring these accomplishments, it would beabsurd, and presumptuous, to present here any vague precepts, ortedious details, upon the mode of learning drawing, dancing, andmusic. These can be best learned from the masters who profess to teachthem, as far as the technical part is necessary. But success will notultimately depend upon any technical instructions that a master cangive: he may direct the efforts of industry so as to save much uselesslabour; he may prevent his pupils from acquiring bad practical habits;he may assist, but he cannot inspire, the spirit of perseverance. Amaster, who is not expected, or indeed allowed, to interfere in thegeneral education of his pupils, can only diligently attend to themwhilst he is giving his lessons; he has not any power, except thatpernicious motive, competition, to excite them to excel; hisinstructions cannot be peculiarly adapted to their tempers or theirunderstandings, because with these he is unacquainted. Now a sensiblemother has it in her power to supply all these deficiencies; even ifshe does not herself excel in any of the accomplishments which herdaughters are learning, her knowledge of their minds, her taste, herjudgment, her affection, her superintending intelligence, will be ofinestimable value to her children. If she has any skill in anyaccomplishment, she will, for the first years of her daughters' lives, be undoubtedly the best person to instruct them. By skill, we do notmean superior talents, or proficiency in music or drawing; withoutthese, she may be able to teach all that is necessary in the earlypart of education. One of the best motives which a woman can have tocultivate her talents after she marries, is the hope and belief, thatshe may be essentially serviceable in the instruction of her family. And that she may be essentially serviceable, let no false humilitylead her to doubt. She need not be anxious for the rapid progress ofher little pupils; she need not be terrified if she see their equalsin age surpass them under what she thinks more able tuition; she maysecurely satisfy herself, that if she but inspires her children with adesire to excel, with the habits of attention and industry, they willcertainly succeed, sooner or later, in whatever it is desirable thatthey should learn. The exact age at which the music, dancing, ordrawing master, should begin their instructions, need not be fixed. Ifa mother should not be so situated as to be able to procure the bestmasters for her daughters whilst they are yet children, she need notbe in despair; a rapid progress is made in a short time by welleducated young people; those who have not acquired any bad habits, areeasily taught: it should, therefore, seem prudent, if the best masterscannot be procured at any given period of education, to waitpatiently, than to hazard their first impressions, and the firsthabits which might be given by any inferiour technical instruction. Itis said, that the celebrated musician Timotheus, whose excellence inhis art Alexander the conqueror of the world was forced toacknowledge, when pupils flocked to him from all parts of the world, had the prudence to demand double _entrance money_ from every scholarwho had had any other music master. Besides the advantage of being entirely free from other bad habits, children who are not taught by inferiour masters, will not contracthabits of listless application. Under the eye of an indolent person, children seldom give their entire attention to what they are about. They become mere machines, and, without using their own understandingin the least, have recourse to the convenient master upon everyoccasion. The utmost that children in such circumstances can learn, isall the technical part of the art which the master can teach. When themaster is at last dismissed, and her education completed, the pupil isleft both fatigued and helpless. "Few have been taught to any purpose, who have not been their own teachers, " says Sir Joshua Reynolds. Thisreflection upon the art of teaching, may, perhaps, be too general; butthose persons who look back upon their education, will, in manyrespects, allow it to be just. They will perceive that they have beentoo much taught, that they have learned every thing which they know asan art, and nothing as a science. Few people have sufficient courageto re-commence their own education, and for this reason few people getbeyond a certain point of mediocrity. It is easy to them to practisethe lessons which they have learned, if they practise them inintellectual darkness; but if you let in upon them one ray ofphilosophic light, you dazzle and confound them, so that they cannoteven perform their customary feats. A young man, [33] who had beenblind from his birth, had learned to draw a cross, a circle, and asquare, with great accuracy; when he was twenty, his eyes werecouched, and when he could see perfectly well, he was desired to drawhis circle and square. His new sense of seeing, so far from assistinghim in this operation, was extremely troublesome to him; though hetook more pains than usual, he performed very ill: confounded by thenew difficulty, he concluded that sight was useless in all operationsto be performed by the hand, and he thought his eyes would be of nouse to him in future. How many people find their reason as useless andtroublesome to them as this young man found his eye-sight! Whilst we are learning any mechanical operation, or whilst we areacquiring any technical art, the mind is commonly passive. In thefirst attempts, perhaps, we reason or invent ways of abridging our ownlabour, and the awkwardness of the unpractised hand is assisted byingenuity and reflection; but as we improve in manual dexterity, attention and ingenuity are no longer exerted; we go on habituallywithout thought. --Thought would probably interrupt the operation, andbreak the chain of associated actions. [34] An artificer stops his handthe moment you ask him to explain what he is about: he can work andtalk of indifferent objects; but if he reflects upon the manner inwhich he performs certain slight of hand parts of his business, it isten to one but he cannot go on with them. A man, who writes a freerunning hand, goes on without thinking of the manner in which hewrites; fix his attention upon the manner in which he holds his pen, or forms his letters, and he probably will not write quite so fast, orso well, as usual. When a girl first attempts to dress herself at aglass, the glass perplexes, instead of assisting her, because shethinks and reasons about every motion; but when by habit she haslearned how to move her hands in obedience to the _flugel_-image, [35]which performs its exercise in the mirror, no further thought isemployed. Make the child observe that she moves her left hand forwardwhen the image in the glass moves in a contrary manner, turn thechild's attention to any of her own motions, and she will makemistakes as she did before her habits were formed. Many occupations, which are generally supposed to depend upon theunderstanding, and which do probably depend in the first instance uponthe _understanding_, become by practice purely mechanical. This is thecase in many of the imitative arts. A person unused to drawing, exertsa great deal of attention in copying any new object; but custom soonsupplies the place of thought. By custom, [36] as a great artistassures us, he will become able to draw the human figure tolerablycorrectly, with as little effort of the mind, as to trace with a penthe letters of the alphabet. We must further observe, that the habit of pursuing any occupation, which requires no mental exertion, induces an indolence or incapacityof intellect. Mere artists are commonly as stupid as mere artificers, and these are little more than machines. The length of time which is required to obtain practical skill anddexterity in certain accomplishments, is one reason why there are sofew people who obtain any thing more than mechanical excellence. Theybecome the slaves of custom, and they become proud of their slavery. At first they might have considered custom as a tyrant; but when theyhave obeyed her for a certain time, they do her voluntary homage everafter, as to a sovereign by divine right. To prevent this species ofintellectual degradation, we must in education be careful to rank meremechanical talents below the exercise of the mental powers. Thus theambition of young people will be directed to high objects, and allinferiour qualifications may be attained without contracting theunderstanding. Praise children for patience, for perseverance, forindustry; encourage them to reason and to invent upon all subjects, and you may direct their attention afterwards as you think proper. Butif you applaud children merely for drawing a flower neatly, or copyinga landscape, without exciting their ambition to any thing higher, youwill never create superior talents, or a superior character. Theproficiency that is made in any particular accomplishment, at anygiven age, should not be considered so much, even by those who highlyvalue accomplishments, as the power, the energy, that is excited inthe pupil's mind, from which future progress is ensured. The writingand drawing automaton performs its advertised wonders to thesatisfaction of the spectators; but the machine is not "_instinct withspirit_;" you cannot expect from its pencil the sketch of a Raphael, or from its pen the thoughts of a Shakespeare. It is easy to guide thehand, but who can transfuse a soul into the image? It is not an uncommon thing to hear young people, who have been longunder the tuition of masters, complain of their own want of genius. They are sensible that they have not made any great progress in any ofthe accomplishments which they have endeavoured to learn; they seeothers, who have not, perhaps, had what they call such _opportunities_and _advantages_ in their education, suddenly surpass them; this theyattribute to natural genius, and they say to themselves in despair, "Certainly I have no taste for drawing; I have no genius for music; Ihave learned so many years, I have had so many lessons from the bestmasters, and yet here is such and such a one, who has had no master, who has taught herself, and, perhaps, did not begin till late in life, has got before me, because she has a natural genius for these things. She must have a natural taste for them, because she can sit wholehours at these things for her own pleasure. Now I never would take apencil in my hand from my own choice; and I am glad, at all events, that the time for lessons and masters is over. My education isfinished, for I am of age. " The disgust and despair, which are thus induced by an injudiciouseducation, absolutely defeat its own trivial purposes. So that, whatever may be the views of parents, whether they consider ornamentalaccomplishments as essential to their daughter's _success_ in theworld, or whether they value them rather as secondary objects, subordinate to her happiness; whether they wish their daughteractually to excel in any particular accomplishment, or to have thepower of excelling in any to which circumstances may direct her, it isin all cases advisable to cultivate the general power of the pupil'sunderstanding, instead of confining her to technical practices andprecepts, under the eye of any master who does not possess that whichis the _soul_ of every art. We do not mean any illiberal attack upon masters; but in writing uponeducation, it is necessary to examine the utility of different modesof instruction, without fear of offending _any class_ of men. Weacknowledge, that it is seldom found, that those who can communicatetheir knowledge the best, _possess the most_, especially if thisknowledge be that of an artist or a linguist. Before any person isproperly qualified _to teach_, he must have the power of recollectingexactly how _he learned_; he must go back step by step to the point atwhich he began, and he must be able to conduct his pupil through thesame path without impatience or precipitation. He must not only haveacquired a knowledge of the process by which his own ideas and habitswere formed, but he must have extensive experience of the varieties ofthe human mind. He must not suppose, that the operations of intellectare carried on precisely in the same manner in all minds; he must notimagine, that there is but one method of teaching, which will suit allpersons alike. The analogies which strike his own mind, thearrangement of ideas, which to him appears the most perspicuous, tohis pupil may appear remote and confused. He must not attribute thisto his pupil's inattention, stupidity, or obstinacy; but he mustattribute it to the true causes; the different association of ideas indifferent minds, the different habits of thinking, which arise fromtheir various tempers and previous education. He must be acquaintedwith the habits of all tempers: the slow, the quick, the inventive, the investigating; and he must adapt his instructions accordingly. There is something more requisite: a master must not only know what heprofesses to teach of his own peculiar art or science, but he ought toknow all its bearings and dependencies. He must be acquainted not onlywith the local topography of his own district, but he must have thewhole map of human knowledge before him; and whilst he dwells mostupon his own province, he must yet be free from local prejudices, andmust consider himself as a citizen of the world. Children who studygeography in small separate maps, understand, perhaps, the view ofeach country tolerably well; but we see them quite puzzled when theyare to connect these maps in their idea of the world. They do not knowthe relative size or situation of England or France; they cannot findLondon or Paris when they look for the first time upon the globe, andevery country seems to be turned upside down in their imagination. Young people who learn particular arts and sciences from masters whohave confined their view to the boundaries of each, without havinggiven an enlarged idea of the whole, are much in the same situationwith these unfortunate geographers. The persisting to teach things separately, which ought to be taught asa whole, must prevent the progress of mental cultivation. [37] Thedivision and subdivision of different parts of education, which aremonopolised as trades by the masters who profess to teach them, musttend to increase and perpetuate errour. These intellectual _casts_ arepernicious. It is said, that the Persians had masters to teach their children eachseparate virtue: one master to teach justice, another fortitude, another temperance, and so on. How these masters could preserve theboundaries of their several moral territories, it is not easy toimagine, especially if they all insisted upon independent sovereignty. There must have been some danger, surely, of their disputing with oneanother concerning the importance of their respective professions, like the poor bourgeois gentilhomme's dancing-master, music-master, master of morality, and master of philosophy, who all fell to blows tosettle their pretensions, forgetful of the presence of their pupil. Masters, who are only expected to teach one thing, may be sincerelyanxious for the improvement of their pupils in that particular, without being in the least interested for their general character orhappiness. Thus the drawing-master has done his part, and is satisfiedif he teaches his pupil to draw well: it is no concern of his what hertemper may be, any more than what sort of hand she writes, or how shedances. The dancing-master, in his turn, is wholly indifferent aboutthe young lady's progress in drawing; all he undertakes, is to teachher to dance. We mention these circumstances to show parents, that masters, evenwhen they do the utmost that they engage to do, cannot educate theirchildren; they can only partially instruct them in particular arts. Parents must themselves preside over the education of their children, or must entirely give them into the care of some person of an enlargedand philosophic mind, who can supply all the deficiencies of commonmasters, and who can take advantage of all the positive good that canbe obtained from existing institutions. Such a preceptor or governessmust possess extensive knowledge, and that superiority of mind whichsees the just proportion and value of every acquisition, which is notto be overawed by authority, or dazzled by fashion. Under the eye ofsuch persons, masters will keep precisely their proper places; theywill teach all they can teach, without instilling absurd prejudices, or inspiring a spirit of vain rivalship; nor will masters be sufferedto continue their lessons when they have nothing more to teach. Parents who do not think that they have leisure, or feel that theyhave capacity, to take the entire direction of their children'seducation upon themselves, will trust this important office to agoverness. The inquiry concerning the value of female accomplishments, has been purposely entered into before we could speak of the choice ofa governess, because the estimation in which these are held, will verymuch determine parents in their choice. If what has been said of the probability of a decline in the publictaste for what are usually called accomplishments; of their littleutility to the happiness of families and individuals; of the waste oftime, and waste of the higher powers of the mind in acquiring them: ifwhat has been observed on any of these points is allowed to be just, we shall have little difficulty in pursuing the same principlesfurther. In the choice of a governess we should not, then, considerher fashionable accomplishments as her best recommendations; thesewill be only secondary objects. We shall examine with more anxiety, whether she possess a sound, discriminating, and enlargedunderstanding: whether her mind be free from prejudice; whether shehas steadiness of temper to pursue her own plans; and, above all, whether she has that species of integrity which will justify a parentin trusting a child to her care. We shall attend to her conversation, and observe her manners, with scrupulous minuteness. Children are_imitative animals_, and they are peculiarly disposed to imitate thelanguage, manners, and gestures, of those with whom they live, and towhom they look up with admiration. In female education, too much carecannot be taken to form all those habits in morals and in manners, which are distinguishing characteristics of amiable women. Thesehabits must be acquired early, or they will never appear easy orgraceful; they will necessarily be formed by those who see none butgood models. We have already pointed out the absolute necessity of union amongstall those who are concerned in a child's education. A governess musteither rule, or obey, decidedly. If she do not agree with the child'sparents in opinion, she must either know how to convince them byargument, or she must with strict integrity conform her practice totheir theories. There are few parents, who will choose to give up theentire care of their children to any governess; therefore, there willprobably be some points in which a difference of opinion will arise. Asensible woman will never submit to be treated, as governesses are insome families, like the servant who was asked by his master whatbusiness he had to think: nor will a woman of sense or temper insistupon her opinions without producing her reasons. She will thus ensurethe respect and the confidence of enlightened parents. It is surely the interest of parents to treat the person who educatestheir children, with that perfect equality and kindness, which willconciliate her affection, and which will at the same time preserve herinfluence and authority over her pupils. And it is with pleasure weobserve, that the style of behaviour to governesses, in well bredfamilies, is much changed within these few years. A governess is nolonger treated as an upper servant, or as an intermediate beingbetween a servant and a gentlewoman: she is now treated as the friendand companion of the family, and she must, consequently, have warm andpermanent interest in its prosperity: she becomes attached to herpupils from gratitude to their parents, from sympathy, fromgenerosity, as well as from the strict sense of duty. In fashionable life there is, however, some danger that parents shouldgo into extremes in their behaviour towards their governesses. Thosewho disdain the idea of assuming superiority of rank and fortune, andwho desire to treat the person who educates their children as theirequal, act with perfect propriety; but if they make her theircompanion in all their amusements, they go a step too far, and theydefeat their own purposes. If a governess attends the card-table, andthe assembly-room; if she is to visit, and be visited, what is tobecome of her pupils in her absence? They must be left to the care ofservants. There are some ladies who will not accept of any invitation, in which the governess of their children is not included. This may bedone from a good motive, but, surely, it is unreasonable; for the veryuse of a governess is to supply the mother's place in her absence. Cannot this be managed better? Cannot the mother and governess bothamuse themselves at different times? There would then be perfectequality; the governess would be in the same society, and would betreated with the same respect, without neglecting her duty. The rewardwhich is given to women of abilities, and of unblemished reputation, who devote themselves to the superintendence of the education of youngladies in the higher ranks of life, the daughters of our affluentnobility, ought to be considerably greater than what it is at present:it ought to be such as to excite women to cultivate their talents, andtheir understandings, with a view to this profession. A profession wecall it, for it should be considered as such, as an honourableprofession, which a gentlewoman might follow without losing any degreeof the estimation in which she is held by what is called _the world_. There is no employment, at present, by which a gentlewoman canmaintain herself, without losing something of that respect, somethingof that rank in society, which neither female fortitude nor malephilosophy willingly foregoes. The liberal professions are open to menof small fortunes; by presenting one similar resource to women, weshould give a strong motive for their moral and intellectualimprovement. Nor does it seem probable, that they should make a disgraceful orimprudent use of their increasing influence and liberty in this case, because their previous education must previously prepare themproperly. The misfortune of women has usually been, to have powertrusted to them before they were educated to use it prudently. To saythat preceptresses in the higher ranks of life should be liberallyrewarded, is but a vague expression; something specific should bementioned, wherever general utility is the object. Let us observe, that many of the first dignities of the church are bestowed, andproperly bestowed, upon men who have educated the highest ranks of ournobility. Those who look with an evil eye upon these promotions, donot fairly estimate the _national_ importance of education for therich and powerful. No provision can be made for women who direct theeducation of the daughters of our nobility, any ways equivalent to theprovision made for preceptors by those who have influence in thestate. A pecuniary compensation is in the power of opulent families. Three hundred a year, for twelve or fourteen years, the space of timewhich a preceptress must probably employ in the education of a younglady, would be a suitable compensation for her care. With thisprovision she would be enabled, after her pupil's education wascompleted, either to settle in her own family, or she would, in thedecline of life, be happily independent, secure from the temptation ofmarrying for money. If a few munificent and enlightened individualsset the example of liberally rewarding merit in this situation, manyyoung women will probably appear with talents and good qualitiessuited to the views of the most sanguine parents. With good sense, andliterary tastes, a young woman might instruct herself during the firstyears of her pupils childhood, and might gradually prepare herselfwith all the necessary knowledge: according to the principles thathave been suggested, there would be no necessity for her being a_mistress of arts_, a performer in music, a paintress, a linguist, ora poetess. A general knowledge of literature is indispensable; and yetfurther, she must have sufficient taste and judgment to direct theliterary talents of her pupils. With respect to the literary education of the female sex, thearguments on both sides of the question have already been stated, withall the impartiality in our power, in another place. [38] Withoutobtruding a detail of the same arguments again upon the public, itwill be sufficient to profess the distinct opinion, which a longerconsideration of the subject has yet more fully confirmed, that itwill tend to the happiness of society in general, that women shouldhave their understandings cultivated and enlarged as much as possible;that the happiness of domestic life, the virtues and the powers ofpleasing in the female sex, the yet more desirable power of attachingthose worthy of their love and esteem, will be increased by thejudicious cultivation of the female understanding, more than by allthat modern gallantry or ancient chivalry could devise in favour ofthe sex. Much prudence and ability are requisite to conduct properly ayoung woman's literary education. Her imagination must not be raisedabove the taste for necessary occupations, or the numerous small, butnot trifling, pleasures of domestic life: her mind must be enlarged, yet the delicacy of her manners must be preserved: her knowledge mustbe various, and her powers of reasoning unawed by authority; yet shemust _habitually_ feel that nice sense of propriety, which is at oncethe guard and the charm of every feminine virtue. By early caution, unremitting, scrupulous caution in the choice of the books which areput into the hands of girls, a mother, or a preceptress, may fullyoccupy and entertain their pupils, and excite in their minds a _taste_for propriety, as well as a taste for literature. It cannot benecessary to add more than this general idea, that a mother ought tobe answerable to her daughter's husband for the books her daughter hadread, as well as for the company she had kept. Those observations, which apply equally to the cultivation of theunderstanding both of men and of women, we do not here mean to pointout; we would speak only of what may be peculiar to female education. From the study of the learned languages, women, by custom, fortunately for them, are exempted: of ancient literature they may, intranslations which are acknowledged to be excellent, obtain asufficient knowledge, without paying too much time and labour for thisclassic pleasure. Confused notions from fashionable publications, fromperiodical papers, and comedies, have made their way into commonconversation, and thence have assumed an appearance of authority, andhave been extremely disadvantageous to female education. Sentiment andridicule have conspired to represent reason, knowledge, and science, as unsuitable or dangerous to women; yet at the same time wit, andsuperficial acquirements in literature, have been the object ofadmiration in society; so that this dangerous inference has beendrawn, almost without our perceiving its fallacy, that superficialknowledge is more desirable in women than accurate knowledge. Thisprinciple must lead to innumerable errours; it must produce continualcontradictions in the course of education: instead of making womenmore reasonable, and less presuming, it will render them at oncearrogant and ignorant; full of pretensions, incapable of application, and unfit to hear themselves convinced. Whatever young women learn, let them be taught accurately; let them know ever so littleapparently, they will know much if they have learnt that little_well_. A girl who runs through a course of natural history, hearssomething about chemistry, has been taught something of botany, andwho knows but just enough of these to make her fancy that she is wellinformed, is in a miserable situation, in danger of becomingridiculous, and insupportably tiresome to men of sense and science. But let a woman know any one thing completely, and she will havesufficient understanding to learn more, and to apply what she has beentaught so as to interest men of generosity and genius in her favour. The knowledge of the general principles of any science, is verydifferent from superficial knowledge of the science; perhaps, from notattending to this distinction, or from not understanding it, manyhave failed in female education. Some attempt will be made to markthis distinction practically, when we come to speak of the cultivationof the memory, invention, and judgment. No intelligent preceptresswill, it is hoped, find any difficulty in the application of theobservations they may meet with in the chapters on imagination, sympathy and sensibility, vanity and temper. The masculine pronoun_he_, has been used for grammatical convenience, not at all because weagree with the prejudiced, and uncourteous grammarian, who asserts, "that the masculine is the more worthy gender. " FOOTNOTES: [32] Une virtuose. [33] V. Storia di quattro fratelli nati ciechi e guariti coll'estrazione delle cateratte. --Di Francesco Buzzi. [34] V. Zoonomia. [35] This word is sometimes by mistake spelt _fugal_-man. [36] Sir Joshua Reynolds. [37] Condillac. [38] V. Letters for Literary Ladies. CHAPTER XXI. MEMORY AND INVENTION. Before we bestow many years of time and pains upon any object, it maybe prudent to afford a few minutes previously to ascertain its precisevalue. Many persons have a vague idea of the great value of memory, and, without analyzing their opinion, they resolve to cultivate thememories of their children as much, and as soon, as possible. So farfrom having determined the value of this talent, we shall find that itwill be difficult to give a popular definition of a good memory. Somepeople call that a good memory which retains the greatest number ofideas for the longest time. Others prefer a recollective to aretentive memory, and value not so much the number; as the selection, of facts; not so much the mass, or even the antiquity, of accumulatedtreasure, as the power of producing current specie for immediate use. Memory is sometimes spoken of as if it were a faculty admirable initself, without any union with the other powers of the mind. Amongstthose who allow that memory has no independent claim to regard, thereare yet many who believe, that a superior degree of memory isessential to the successful exercise of the higher faculties, such asjudgment and invention. The degree in which it is useful to thosepowers, has not, however, been determined. Those who are governed intheir opinions by precedent and authority, can produce many learnednames, to prove that memory was held in the highest estimation amongstthe great men of antiquity; it was cultivated with much anxiety intheir public institutions, and in their private education. But therewere many circumstances, which formerly contributed to make a greatmemory essential to a great man. In civil and military employments, amongst the ancients, it was in a high degree requisite. Generals wereexpected to know by heart the names of the soldiers in their armies;demagogues, who hoped to please the people, were expected to know thenames of all their fellow-citizens. [39] Orators, who did not speakextempore, were obliged to get their long orations by rote. Those whostudied science or philosophy, were obliged to cultivate their memorywith incessant care, because, if they frequented the schools forinstruction, they treasured up the sayings of the masters of differentsects, and learned their doctrines only by oral instruction. Manuscripts were frequently got by heart by those who were eager tosecure the knowledge they contained, and who had not opportunities ofrecurring to the originals. It is not surprising, therefore, thatmemory, to which so much was trusted, should have been held in suchhigh esteem. At the revival of literature in Europe, before the discovery of theart of printing, it was scarcely possible to make any progress in theliterature of the age, without possessing a retentive memory. A manwho had read a few manuscripts, and could repeat them, was a wonder, and a treasure: he could travel from place to place, and live by hislearning; he was a circulating library to a nation, and the more bookshe could carry in his head, the better: he was certain of an admiringaudience if he could repeat what Aristotle or Saint Jerome hadwritten; and he had far more encouragement to engrave the words ofothers on his memory, than to invent or judge for himself. In the twelfth century, above six hundred scholars assembled in theforests of Champagne, to hear the lectures of the learned Abeillard;they made themselves huts of the boughs of trees, and in this newacademic grove were satisfied to go almost without the necessaries oflife. In the specimens of Abeillard's composition, which are handeddown to us, we may discover proofs of his having been vain of asurprising memory; it seems to have been the superior faculty of hismind: his six hundred pupils could carry away with them only so muchof his learning as they could get by heart during his course oflectures; and he who had the best memory, must have been best paid forhis journey. [40] The art of printing, by multiplying copies so as to put them withinthe easy reference of all classes of people, has lowered the value ofthis species of retentive memory. It is better to refer to the bookitself, than to the man who has read the book. Knowledge is now readyclassed for use, and it is safely stored up in the great common-placebooks of public libraries. A man of literature need not incumber hismemory with whole passages from the authors he wants to quote; he needonly mark down the page, and the words are safe. Mere erudition does not in these days ensure permanent fame. The namesof the Abbé de Longuerue, and of the Florentine librarian Magliabechi, excite no vivid emotions in the minds of those who have heard of thembefore; and there are many, perhaps not illiterate persons, who wouldnot be ashamed to own that they had never heard of them at all. Yetthese men were both of them, but a few years ago, remarkable forextraordinary memory and erudition. When M. De Longuerue was a child, he was such a prodigy of memory and knowledge, that Lewis thefourteenth, passing through the abbé's province, stopped to see andhear him. When he grew up, Paris consulted him as the oracle oflearning. His erudition, says d'Alembert, [41] was not only prodigious, but actually terrible. Greek and Hebrew were more familiar to him thanhis native tongue. His memory was so well furnished with historicfacts, with chronological and topographical knowledge, that uponhearing a person assert in conversation, that it would be a difficulttask to write a good historical description of France, [42] heasserted, that he could do it from memory, without consulting anybooks. All he asked, was, to have some maps of France laid before him:these recalled to his mind the history of each province, of all thefiefs of the crown of each city, and even of each distinguishednobleman's seat in the kingdom. He wrote his folio history in a year. It was admired as a great curiosity in manuscript; but when it came tobe printed, sundry gross errours appeared: he was obliged to take outseveral leaves in correcting the press. The edition was veryexpensive, and the work, at last, would have been rather moreacceptable to the public, if the author had not written it frommemory. Love of the wonderful must yield to esteem for the useful. The effect which all this erudition had upon the Abbé de Longuerue'staste, judgment, and imagination, is worth our attention. Some of hisopinions speak sufficiently for our purpose. He was of opinion thatthe English have never done any good, [43] since they renounced thestudy of Greek and Arabic, for Geometry and Physics. He was ofopinion, that two antiquarian books upon Homer, viz. _AntiquitatesHomericæ_ and _Homeri Gnomologia_, are preferable to Homer himself. Hewould rather have them, he declared, because with these he had allthat was useful in the poet, without being obliged to go through longstories, which put him to sleep. "As for that madman Ariosto, " saidhe, "I sometimes divert myself with him. " One odd volume of Racine wasthe only French book to be found in his library. His erudition diedwith him, and the world has not profited much by his surprisingmemory. The librarian Magliabechi was no less famous than M. De Longuerue forhis memory, and he was yet more strongly affected by the mania forbooks. His appetite for them was so voracious, that he acquired thename of the glutton of literature. [44] Before he died, he had_swallowed_ six large rooms full of books. Whether he had time todigest any of them we do not know, but we are sure that he wished it;for the only line of his own composition which he has left for theinstruction of posterity, is round a medal. The medal represents himsitting with a book in his hand, and with a great number of booksscattered on the floor round him. The candid inscription signifies, that to become learned it is not sufficient to read much, if we readwithout reflection. The names of Franklin and of Shakespeare are knownwherever literature is cultivated, to all who have any pretensions toscience or to genius; yet they were neither of them men ofextraordinary erudition, nor from their works should we judge thatmemory was their predominant faculty. It may be said, that a superiordegree of memory was essential to the exercise of their judgment andinvention; that without having treasured up in his memory a variety ofminute observations upon human nature, Shakespeare could never havepainted the passions with so bold and just a hand; that if Franklinhad not accurately remembered his own philosophical observations, andthose of others, he never would have made those discoveries which haveimmortalized his name. Admitting the justice of these assertions, wesee that memory to great men is but a subordinate servant, a treasurerwho receives, and is expected to keep faithfully whatever is committedto his care; and not only to preserve faithfully all deposits, but toproduce them at the moment they are wanted. There are substances whichare said to imbibe and retain the rays of light, and to emit them onlyin certain situations. As long as they retain the rays, no eye regardsthem. It has often been observed, that a recollective and retentive memoryare seldom found united. If this were true, and that we had our choiceof either, which should we prefer? For the purposes of ostentation, perhaps the one; for utility, the other. A person who could repeatfrom beginning to end the whole Economy of Human Life, which he hadlearned in his childhood, might, if we had time to sit still andlisten to him, obtain our admiration for his extraordinary retentivememory; but the person who, in daily occurrences, or interestingaffairs, recollects at the proper time what is useful to us, obtainsfrom our gratitude something more than vain admiration. To speakaccurately, we must remark, that retentive and recollective memoriesare but relative terms: the recollective memory must be retentive ofall that it recollects; the retentive memory cannot show itself tillthe moment it becomes recollective. But we value either precisely inproportion as they are useful and agreeable. Just at the time when philosophers were intent upon trying experimentsin electricity, Dr. Heberden recollected to have seen, many yearsbefore, a small electrical stone, called tourmalin, [45] in thepossession of Dr. Sharpe at Cambridge. It was the only one known inEngland at that time. Dr. Heberden procured it; and several curiousexperiments were made and verified with it. In this instance, it isobvious that we admire the retentive, local memory of Dr. Heberden, merely because it became recollective and useful. Had the tourmalinnever been wanted, it would have been a matter of indifference, whether the direction for it at Dr. Sharpe's at Cambridge, had beenremembered or forgotten. There was a man[46] who undertook, in goingfrom Temple Bar to the furthest part of Cheapside and back again, toenumerate at his return every sign on each side of the way in itsorder, and to repeat them, if it should be required, either backwardsor forwards. This he exactly accomplished. As a playful trial ofmemory, this affords us a moments entertainment; but if we were to beserious upon the subject, we should say it was a pity that the man didnot use his extraordinary memory for some better purpose. The lateking of Prussia, when he intended to advance Trenck in the army, uponhis first introduction, gave him a list of the strangest names whichcould be picked out, to learn by rote. Trenck learned them quickly, and the king was much pleased with this instance of his memory; butFrederick would certainly never have made such a trial of theabilities of Voltaire. We cannot always foresee what facts may be useful, and what may beuseless to us, otherwise the cultivation of the memory might beconducted by unerring rules. In the common business of life, peopleregulate their memories by the circumstances in which they happen tobe placed. A clerk in a counting-house, by practice, learns toremember the circumstances, affairs, and names of numerous merchants, of his master's customers, the places of their abode, and, perhaps, something of their peculiar humours and manners. A fine lady remembersher visiting list, and, perhaps, the dresses and partners of everycouple at a crowded ball; she finds all these particulars a usefulsupply for daily conversation, she therefore remembers them withcare. An amateur, who is ambitious to shine in the society of literarymen, collects literary anecdotes, and retails them whenever occasionpermits. Men of sense, who cultivate their memories for usefulpurposes, are not obliged to treasure up heterogeneous facts: byreducing particulars to general principles, and by connecting themwith proper associations, they enjoy all the real advantages, whilstthey are exempt from the labour of accumulation. Mr. Stewart has, with so much ability, pointed out the effects ofsystematic arrangement of writing, reading, and the use of technicalcontrivances in the cultivation of the memory, that it would be apresumptuous and unnecessary attempt to expatiate in other words uponthe same subject. It may not be useless, however, to repeat a few ofhis observations, because, in considering what further improvement maybe made, it is always essential to have fully in our view what isalready known. "Philosophic arrangement assists the memory, by classing under a fewprinciples, a number of apparently dissimilar and unconnectedparticulars. The habit, for instance, of attending to the connectionof cause and effect, presents a multitude of interesting analogies tothe minds of men of science, which escape other persons; the vulgarfeel no pleasure in contemplating objects that appear remote fromcommon life; and they find it extremely difficult to rememberobservations and reasonings which are foreign to their customarycourse of associated ideas. Even literary and ingenious people, whenthey begin to learn any art or science, usually complain that theirmemory is not able to retain all the terms and ideas which pour inupon them with perplexing rapidity. In time, this difficulty isconquered, not so much by the strength of the memory, as by theexercise of judgment: they learn to distinguish, and select thematerial terms, facts and arguments, from those that are subordinate, and they class them under general heads, to relieve the memory fromall superfluous labour. "In all studies, there is some prevalent associating principle, whichgradually becomes familiar to our minds, but which we do notimmediately discover in our first attempts. In poetry, resemblance; inphilosophy, cause and effect; in mathematics, demonstrationscontinually recur; and, therefore, each is expected by persons whohave been used to these respective studies. "The habit of committing our knowledge to writing, assists the memory, because, in writing, we detain certain ideas long enough in our viewto perceive all their relations; we use fixed and abbreviated signsfor all our thoughts; with the assistance of these, we can preventconfusion in our reasonings. We can, without fatigue, by the help ofwords, letters, figures, or algebraic signs, go through a variety ofmental processes, and solve many difficult problems, which, withoutsuch assistance, must have been too extensive for our capacities. "If our books be well chosen, and if we read with discrimination andattention, reading will improve the memory, because, as it increasesour knowledge, it increases our interest in every new discovery, andin every new combination of ideas. " We agree entirely with Mr. Stewart in his observations upon technicalhelps to the memory; they are hurtful to the understanding, becausethey break the general habits of philosophic order in the mind. Thereis no connection of ideas between the memorial lines, for instance, inGrey's Memoria Technica, the history of the Kings or Emperors, and thedates that we wish to remember. However, it may be advantageous ineducation to use such contrivances, to assist our pupils inremembering those technical parts of knowledge, which are sometimesvalued above their worth in society. The facts upon which the principles of any science are founded, should never be learnt by rote in a technical manner. But the namesand the dates of the reigns of a number of kings and emperors, if theymust be remembered by children, should be learnt in the manner whichmay give them the least trouble. [47] It is commonly asserted, that our memory is to be improved byexercise: exercise may be of different kinds, and we must determinewhat sort is best. Repetition is found to fix words, and sometimesideas, strongly in the mind; the words of the burden of a song, whichwe have frequently heard, are easily and long remembered. When we wantto get any thing by rote, we repeat it over and over again, till thesounds seem to follow one another habitually, and then we say we havethem perfectly by rote. [48] The regular recurrence of sounds, atstated intervals, much assists us. In poetry, the rhymes, the cadence, the alliteration, the peculiar structure of the poet's lines, aids us. All these are mechanical helps to the memory. Repetition seems muchmore agreeable to some people than to others; but it may be doubtedwhether a facility and propensity to repetition be favourable torational memory. Whilst we repeat, we exclude all thought from themind; we form a habit of saying certain sounds in a certain order; butif this habit be afterwards broken by any trifling externalcircumstances, we lose all our labour. We have no means ofrecollecting what we have learned in this manner. Once gone, it isgone for ever. It depends but upon one principle of association. Thosewho exert ingenuity as well as memory in learning by heart, may not, perhaps, associate sounds with so much expedition, but they will havethe power of recollection in a greater degree. They will have morechances in their favour, besides the great power of voluntaryexertion: a power which few passive repeaters ever possess. Thefollowing lines are easily learned: "Haste, then, ye spirits; to your charge repair, The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care; The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign, And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite lock, Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock. " To a person who merely learned the sounds in these lines by rote, without knowing the sense of the words, all the advantage of theappropriated names and offices of the sylphs would be lost. No one, who has any sense of propriety, can call these sylphs by wrong names, or put them out of their places. Momentilla and the watch, Zephyrettaand the fan, Crispissa and the lock of hair, Brillante and the diamonddrops, are so intimately associated, that they necessarily recurtogether in the memory. The following celebrated lines on envy, somepeople will find easy, and others difficult, to learn by heart: "Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue; But, like a shadow, proves the substance true: For envy'd wit, like Sol eclips'd, makes known Th' opposing body's grossness, not its own. When first that sun too pow'rful beams displays, It draws up vapour, which obscures its rays; But ev'n those clouds at last adorn its way, Reflect new glories, and augment the day. " The flow of these lines is not particularly easy; those who trustmerely to the power of reiteration in getting them by rote, will findthe task difficult; those who seize the ideas, will necessarilyrecollect their order, and the sense will conduct them to their properplaces with certainty: they cannot, for instance, make the cloudsadorn the sun's rays before the sun's powerful beams have drawn up thevapours. This fixes the place of the four last lines. The simile ofmerit and the sun, and envy and the clouds, keeps each idea in itsorder; if any one escapes, it is easily missed, and easily recalled. We seldom meet with those who can give us an accurate account of theirown thoughts; it is, therefore, difficult to tell the different waysin which different people manage their memory. We judge by the effectsfrequently, that causes are the same, which sometimes are entirelydifferent. Thus we, in common conversation, should say, that twopeople had an equally good memory, who could repeat with equalexactness any thing which they had heard or read. But in their methodsof remembering, these persons might differ essentially; the one mighthave exerted much more judgment and ingenuity in the conduct of hismemory than the other, and might thus have not only fatigued himselfless, but might have improved his understanding, whilst the otherlearned merely by rote. When Dr. Johnson reported the parliamentarydebates for the gentleman's Magazine, his judgment, his habit ofattending to the order in which ideas follow one another in reasoning, his previous knowledge of the characters and style of the differentspeakers, must considerably have assisted his memory. His taste forliterary composition must have shown him instantly where any argumentor allusion was misplaced. A connecting phrase, or a link in a chainof reasoning, is missed as readily by a person used to writing andargument, as a word in a line of poetry is missed by a poetic ear. Ifany thing has escaped the memory of persons who remember by generalclassification, they are not only by their art able to discover thatsomething is missing, but they have a general direction where to findit; they know to what class of ideas it must belong; they can huntfrom generals to particulars, till they are sure at last of tracingand detecting the deserter; they have certain signs by which they knowthe object of which they are in search, and they trust with morecertainty to these characteristics, than to the mere vaguerecollection of having seen it before. We feel disposed to trust thememory of those who can give us some reason for what they remember. Ifthey can prove to us that their assertion could not, consistently withother facts, be false, we admit the assertion into the rank of facts, and their judgment thus goes surety for their memory. The following advertisement (taken from the star of the 21stSeptember, 1796) may show that experience justifies these theoreticnotions: "Literature. "A gentleman capable of reporting the debates in parliament, is wanted for a London newspaper. A business of no such great difficulty as is generally imagined by those unacquainted with it. A _tolerable_ good style and facility of composition, as well as a facility of writing, together with a good memory (_not an extraordinary one_) are all the necessary requisites. If a gentleman writes short hand, it is an advantage; but memory and composition are more important. "The advertiser, conceiving that many gentlemen either in London or at the Universities, or in other parts of the kingdom, may think such a situation desirable, takes this public method of enabling them to obtain it. The salary, which will vary according to the talents of the reporter, will at least afford a genteel subsistence, and the business need not interrupt the pursuit of studies necessary for a more important profession. _A gentleman who has never tried parliamentary reporting, will be preferred by the advertiser, because he has observed, that those who have last attempted it, are now the best reporters. _" In the common mode of education, great exactness of repetition isrequired from pupils. This seems to be made a matter of too muchimportance. There are circumstances in life, in which this talent isuseful, but its utility, perhaps, we shall find, upon examination, isover-rated. In giving evidence of words, dates, and facts, in a court of justice, the utmost precision is requisite. The property, lives, and charactersof individuals depend upon this precision. But we must observe, that after long detailed evidence has been givenby a number of witnesses, an advocate separates the material from theimmaterial circumstances, and the judge in his charge again compressesthe arguments of the counsel, so that much of what has been saidduring the trial, might as well have been omitted. All thesesuperfluous ideas were _remembered_ to no purpose. An evidencesometimes, if he be permitted, would tell not only all that heremembers of the circumstances about which he is examined, but also anumber of other circumstances, which are casually associated withthese in his memory. An able advocate rejects, by a quickness ofjudgment which appears like intuition, all that is irrelevant to hisargument and his cause; and it is by this selection that _his_ memory, in the evidence, perhaps, of twenty different people, is able toretain all that is useful. When this heterogeneous mass of evidence isclassed by his perspicuous arrangement, his audience feel nodifficulty either in understanding or recollecting all which hadbefore appeared confused. Thus the exercise of the judgment saves muchof the labour of memory; labour which is not merely unnecessary, buthurtful, to our understanding. In making observations upon subjects which are new to us, we must becontent to use our memory unassisted at first by our reason; we musttreasure up the ore and rubbish together, because we cannotimmediately distinguish them from each other. But the sooner we canseparate them, the better. In the beginning of all experimentalsciences, a number of useless particulars are recorded, because theyare not known to be useless; when, from comparing these, a few generalprinciples are discovered, the memory is immediately relieved, thejudgment and inventive faculty have power and liberty to work, andthen a rapid progress and great discoveries are made. It is themisfortune of those who first cultivate new sciences, that theirmemory is overloaded; but if those who succeed to them, submit to thesame senseless drudgery, it is not their misfortune, but their fault. Let us look over the history of those who have made discoveries andinventions, we shall perceive, that it has been by rejecting uselessideas that they have first cleared their way to truth. Dr. Priestley'sHistories of Vision and of Electricity, are as useful when we considerthem as histories of the human mind, as when we read them as historiesof science. Dr. Priestley has published a catalogue of books, [49] fromwhich he gathered his materials. The pains, he tells us, that it costhim to compress and abridge the accounts which ingenious men havegiven of their own experiments, teach us how much our progress in realknowledge depends upon rejecting all that is superfluous. WhenSimonides offered to teach Themistocles the art of memory, Themistocles answered, "Rather teach me the art of forgetting; for Ifind that I remember much that I had better forget, and forget"(_consequently_) "some things which I wish to remember. " When any discovery or invention is completed, we are frequentlyastonished at its obvious simplicity. The ideas necessary to thediscovery, are seldom so numerous as to fatigue our memory. Memoryseems to have been useful to inventors only as it presented a fewideas in a certain happy connection, as it presented them faithfullyand distinctly to view in the proper moment. If we wish for examplesof _the conduct of_ the understanding, we need only look into Dr. Franklin's works. He is so free from all affectation, he lays his mindso fairly before us, that he is, perhaps, the best example we canselect. Those who are used to look at objects in a microscope, say, that full as much depends upon the object's being well prepared forinspection, as upon the attention of the observer, or the excellenceof the glass. The first thing that strikes us, in looking over Doctor Franklin'sworks, is the variety of his observations upon different subjects. Wemight imagine, that a very tenacious and powerful memory wasnecessary to register all these; but Dr. Franklin informs us, that itwas his constant practice to note down every hint as it occurred tohim: he urges his friends to do the same; he observes, that there isscarcely a day passes without our hearing or seeing something which, if properly attended to, might lead to useful discoveries. By thuscommitting his ideas to writing, his mind was left at liberty _tothink_. No extraordinary effort of memory was, even upon the greatestoccasions, requisite. A friend wrote to him to inquire how he was ledto his great discovery of the identity of lightning and electricity;and how he first came to think of drawing down lightning from theclouds. Dr. Franklin replies, that he could not answer better than bygiving an extract from the minutes he used to keep of the experimentshe made, with memorandums of such as he purposed to make, the reasonsfor making them, and the observations that rose upon them. By thisextract, says Dr. Franklin, you will see that the thought was not somuch _an out of the way one_, but that it might have occurred to anyelectrician. [50] When the ideas are arranged in clear order, as we see them in thisnote, the analogy or induction to which Dr. Franklin was led, appearseasy. Why, then, had it never been made by any other person? Numbersof ingenious men were at this time intent upon electricity. The ideaswhich were necessary to this discovery, were not numerous orcomplicated. We may remark, that one analogy connecting theseobservations together, they are more easily recollected; and theirbeing written down for a particular purpose, on which Dr. Franklin'smind was intent, must have made it still easier to him to retain them. The degree of memory he was forced to employ, is thus reduced to aportion in which few people are defective. Now, let us suppose, thatDr. Franklin, at the time he wrote his memorandum, had fully in hisrecollection every previous experiment that had ever been tried onelectricity; and not only these, but the theories, names, ages, andprivate history, of all the men who had tried these experiments; ofwhat advantage would this have been to him? He must have excluded allthese impertinent ideas successively as they rose before him, and hemust have selected the fifteen useful observations, which we havementioned, from this troublesome multitude. The chance in such aselection would have been against him; the time employed in theexamination and rejection of all the unnecessary recollections, wouldhave been absolutely wasted. We must wish that it were in our power, when we make observations uponnature, or when we read the reflections of others, to arrange ourthoughts so as to be ready when we want to reason or invent. Whencards are dealt to us, we can sort our hand according to the knownprobabilities of the game, and a new arrangement is easily made whenwe hear what is trumps. In collecting and sorting observations, Dr. Franklin particularlyexcelled; therefore we may safely continue to take him for ourexample. Wherever he happened to be, in a boat, in a mine, in aprinter's shop, in a crowded city, or in the country, in Europe orAmerica, he displays the same activity of observation. When any thing, however trifling, struck him which he could not account for, he neverrested till he had traced the effect to its cause. Thus, after havingmade one remark, he had fresh motive to collect facts, either toconfirm or refute an hypothesis; his observations tending consequentlyto some determinate purpose, they were arranged in the moment theywere made, in the most commodious manner, both for his memory andinvention; they were arranged either according to their obviousanalogies, or their relation to each other as cause and effect. He hadtwo useful methods of judging of the value of his own ideas; he eitherconsidered how they could be immediately applied to practicalimprovements in the arts, or how they could lead to the solution ofany of the great problems in science. Here we must again observe, thatjudgment saved the labour of memory. A person, who sets about tocollect facts at random, is little better than a magpie, who picks upand lays by any odd bits of money he can light upon, without knowingtheir use. Miscellaneous observations, which are made by those who have nophilosophy, may accidentally lead to something useful; but here weadmire the good fortune, and not the genius, of the individuals whomake such discoveries: these are prizes drawn from the lottery ofscience, which ought not to seduce us from the paths of soberindustry. How long may an observation, fortunately made, continue tobe useless to mankind, merely because it has not been reasoned upon!The trifling observation, that a straight stick appears bent in water, was made many hundred years before the reason of that appearance wasdiscovered! The invention of the telescope might have been made by anyperson who could have pursued this slight observation through all itsconsequences. Having now defined, or rather described, what we mean by _a goodmemory_, we may consider how the memory should be cultivated. Inchildren, as well as in men, the strength of that habit, or perhaps ofthat power of the mind which associates ideas together, variesconsiderably. It is probable, that this difference may dependsometimes upon organization. A child who is born with any defect inhis eyes, cannot possibly have the same pleasure in objects of sight, which those enjoy who have strong eyes: ideas associated with theseexternal objects, are, therefore, not associated with pleasure, and, consequently, they are not recollected with any sensations ofpleasure. An ingenious writer[51] supposes, that all the difference ofcapacity amongst men ultimately depends on their original power offeeling pleasure or pain, and their consequent different habits ofattention. When there is any defect in a child's organization, we must haverecourse to physics, and not to metaphysics; but even among children, who are apparently in the full possession of all their senses, we seevery different degrees of vivacity: those who have most vivacity, seldom take delight in repeating their ideas; they are more pleasedwith novelty than prone to habit. Those children who are deficient invivacity, are much disposed to the easy indolent pleasure ofrepetition; it costs them less exertion to say or do the same thingover again, than to attempt any thing new; they are uniformly goodsubjects to habit, because novelty has no charms to seduce theirattention. The education of the memory in these two classes of children, oughtnot to be the same. Those who are disposed to repetition, should notbe indulged in it, because it will increase their indolence; theyshould be excited by praise, by example, by sympathy, and by all thestrongest motives that we can employ. Their interest in every thingaround them must by all means be increased: when they show eagernessabout any thing, no matter what it is, we may then exercise theirmemory upon that subject with some hopes of success. It is ofimportance that they should succeed in their first trials, otherwisethey will be discouraged from repeating their attempts, and they willdistrust their own memory in future. The fear of not remembering, will occupy, and agitate, and weaken their minds; they should, therefore, be animated by hope. If they fail, at all events let themnot be reproached; the mortification they naturally feel, issufficient: nor should they be left to dwell upon theirdisappointment; they should have a fresh and easier trial given tothem, that they may recover their own self-complacency asexpeditiously as possible. It may be said, that there are children ofsuch a sluggish temperament, that they feel no pleasure in success, and no mortification in perceiving their own mental deficiencies. There are few children of this description; scarcely any, perhaps, whose defects have not been increased by education. Exertion has beenmade so painful to them, that at length they have sunk into apathy, orsubmitted in despair to the eternal punishment of shame. The mistaken notion, that the memory must be exercised only in books, has been often fatal to the pupils of literary people. We rememberbest those things which interest us most; which are useful to us inconversation; in our daily business or amusement. So do children. Onthese things we should exercise their memory. Tell a boy who has losthis top, to remember at such a particular time to put you in mind ofit, and if he does, that you will give him another, he will probablyremember your requests after this, better than you will yourself. Affectionate children will easily extend their recollective memoriesin the service of their friends and companions. "Put me in mind togive your friend what he asked for, and I will give it to him if youremember it at the right time. " It will be best to manage theseaffairs so that convenience, and not caprice, shall appear to be yourmotive for the requests. The time and place should be precisely fixed, and something should be chosen which is likely to recall your requestat the appointed time. If you say, put me in mind of such a thing themoment the cloth is taken away after dinner; or as soon as candles arebrought into the room; or when I go by such a shop in our walk thisevening; here are things mentioned which will much assist the youngremembrancer: the moment the cloth is taken away, or the candles come, he will recollect, from association, that something is to be done, that _he_ has something to do; and presently he will make out whatthat something is. A good memory for business depends upon local, well arrangedassociations. The man of business makes an artificial memory forhimself out of the trivial occurrences of the day, and the hours asthey pass recall their respective occupations. Children can acquirethese habits very early in their education; they are eager to givetheir companions an account of any thing they have seen or heard;their tutors should become their companions, and encourage them bysympathy to address these narrations to them. Children who forgettheir lessons in chronology, and their pence tables, can relate withperfect accuracy any circumstances which have interested themselves. This shows that there is no deficiency in their capacity. Every one, who has had any experience of the pleasure of talking, knows howintimately it is connected with the pleasure of being listened to. Theauditors, consequently, possess supreme power over narrativechildhood, without using any artifice, by simply showing attention towell arranged, and well recollected narratives, and ceasing to attendwhen the young orator's memory and story become confused, he willnaturally be excited to arrange his ideas. The order of _time_ is thefirst and easiest principle of association to help the memory. This, till young people acquire the ideas of cause and effect, will be theirfavourite mode of arrangement. Things that happen at the same time;things that are said, thoughts that have occurred, at the same time, will recur to the mind together. We may observe, that ill educatedpeople continue through life to remember things by this singleassociation; and, consequently, there is a heterogeneous collection ofideas in their mind, which have no rational connection with eachother; crowds which have accidentally met, and are forced to live forever together. A vulgar evidence, when he is examined about his memory of aparticular fact, gives as a reason for his remembering it, a relationof a number of other circumstances, which he tells you happened at thesame time; or he calls to witness any animate or inanimate objects, which he happened to see at the same time. All these things are sojoined with the principal fact in his mind, that his remembering themdistinctly, seems to him, and he expects will seem to others, demonstration of the truth and accuracy of his principal assertion. When a lawyer tells him he has nothing to do with these ideas, he isimmediately at a stand in his narrative; he can recollect nothing, heis sure of nothing; he has no reason to give for his belief, unless hemay say that it was Michaelmas-day when such a thing happened, that hehad a goose for dinner that day, or that he had a new wig. Those whohave more enlarged minds, seldom produce these strange reasons forremembering facts. Indeed, no one can reason clearly, whose memory hasthese foolish habits; the ill matched ideas are inseparably joined, and hence they imagine there is some natural connection between them. Hence arise those obstinate prejudices which no arguments canvanquish. To prevent children from arguing ill, we must, therefore, take care, in exercising their memory, to discourage them in this method ofproving that they remember one thing by telling us a number of otherswhich happened at the same time; rather let them be excited to bringtheir reasoning faculty into play in support of their memory. Suppose, for instance, that a child had mislaid his hat, and was trying torecollect where he had put it. He first may recollect, from theassociation of time, that he had the hat the last time he went out;but when he wants to recollect when that time was, he had better goback, if he can, to his motive for going out; this one idea will bringa number of others in right order into his mind. He went out, suppose, to fetch his kite, which he was afraid would be wet by ashower of rain; then the boy recollects that his hat must have beenwet by the same rain, and that when he came in, instead of hanging itup in its usual place, it was put before the fire to be dried. Whatfire, is the next question, &c. Such an instance as this may appear very trivial; but children whoseminds are well managed about trifles, will retain good habits whenthey are to think about matters of consequence. By exercising thememory in this manner about things, instead of about books andlessons, we shall not disgust and tire our pupils, nor shall we givethe false notion, that all knowledge is acquired by reading. Long before children read fluently for their own amusement, they liketo hear others read aloud to them, because they have then theentertainment without the labour. We may exercise their memory byasking for an account of what they have heard. But let them never berequired to repeat in the words of the book, or even to preserve thesame arrangement; let them speak in words of their own, and arrangetheir ideas to their own plan; this will exercise at once theirjudgment, invention, and memory. "Try if you can explain to me what I have just been explaining toyou, " a sensible tutor will frequently say to his pupils; and he willsuffer them to explain in a different manner from himself; he willonly require them to remember what is essential to the explanation. Insuch repetitions as these, the mind is active, therefore it willstrengthen and improve. Children are all, more or less, pleased with the perception ofresemblances and of analogy. This propensity assists us much in thecultivation of the memory; but it must be managed with discretion, orit will injure the other powers of the understanding. There is, insome minds, a futile love of tracing analogies, which leads tosuperstition, to false reasoning, and false taste. The quickperception of resemblances is, in other minds, productive of wit, poetic genius, and scientific invention. The difference between thesetwo classes, depends upon this--the one has more judgment, and morethe habit of using it, than the other. Children who are pleased bytrifling coincidences, by allusions, and similitudes, should be taughtwith great care to reason: when once they perceive the pleasure ofdemonstration, they will not be contented with the inaccuracy ofcommon analogies. A tutor is often tempted to teach pupils, who arefond of allusions, by means of them, because he finds that theyremember well whatever suits their taste for resemblances. Byfollowing the real analogies between different arts and sciences, andmaking use of the knowledge children have on one subject to illustrateanother, we may at once amuse their fancy, and cultivate their memorywith advantage. Ideas laid up in this manner, will recur in the sameorder, and will be ready for further use. When two ideas areremembered by their mutual connection, surely it is best that theyshould both of them be substantially useful; and not that one shouldattend merely to answer for the appearance of the other. As men readily remember those things which are every day useful tothem in business, what relates to their amusements, or to theirfavourite tastes in arts, sciences, or in literature; so children findno difficulty in remembering every thing which mixes daily with theirlittle pleasures. They value knowledge, which is _useful_ and_agreeable_ to them, as highly as we do; but they consider only thepresent, and we take the future into our estimate. Children feel nointerest in half the things that are committed, with the most solemnrecommendations, to the care of their memory. It is in vain to tellthem, "You must remember _such a thing_, because it will be useful toyou when you grow up to be a man. " The child feels like a child, andhas no idea of what he may feel when he grows up to be a man. Hetries to remember what he is desired, perhaps, because he wishes toplease his wiser friends; but if the ideas are remote from his everyday business, if nothing recall them but voluntary exertion, and if hebe obliged to abstract his little soul from every thing it holds dear, before he can recollect his lessons, they will have no hold upon hismemory; he will feel that recollection is too operose, and he willenjoy none of the "pleasures of memory. " To induce children to exercise their memory, we must put them insituations where they may be immediately rewarded for their exertion. We must create an interest in their minds--nothing uninteresting islong remembered. In a large and literary family, it will not bedifficult to invent occupations for children which may exercise alltheir faculties. Even the conversation of such a family, will createin their minds a desire for knowledge; what they hear, will recall totheir memory what they read; and if they are encouraged to take areasonable share in conversation, they will acquire the habit oflistening to every thing that others say. By permitting children totalk freely of what they read, we are more likely to improve theirmemory for books, than by exacting from them formal repetitions oflessons. Dr. Johnson, who is said to have had an uncommonly good memory, tellsus, that when he was a boy, he used, after he had acquired any freshknowledge from his books, to run and tell it to an old woman, of whomhe was very fond. This exercise was so agreeable to him, that itimprinted what he read upon his memory. La Gaucherie, one of the preceptors of Henry IV. Having found that hehad to do with a young prince of an impatient mind, and active genius, little suited to sedentary studies, instead of compelling his pupil toread, taught him by means of conversation: anecdotes of heroes, andthe wise sayings of ancient philosophers, were thus imprinted upon themind of this prince. It is said, that Henry IV. Applied, in hissubsequent life, all the knowledge he had acquired in this manner sohappily, that learned men were surprised at his memory. [52] By these observations, we by no means would insinuate, thatapplication to books is unnecessary. We are sensible that accurateknowledge upon any subject, cannot be acquired by superficialconversation; that it can be obtained only by patient application. Butwe mean to point out, that an early taste for literature may beexcited in children by conversation; and that their memory should befirst cultivated in the manner which will give them the least pain. When there is motive for application, and when habits of industry havebeen gradually acquired, we may securely trust, that our pupils willcomplete their own education. Nor should we have reason to fear, thatthose who have a good memory for all other things, should not be ableto retain all that is worth remembering in books. Children shouldnever be praised for merely remembering exactly what they read, theyshould be praised for selecting with good sense what is best worththeir attention, and for applying what they remember to usefulpurposes. We have observed how much the habit of inventing increases the wishfor knowledge, and increases the interest men take in a number ofideas, which are indifferent to uncultivated and indolent people. Itis the same with children. Children who invent, exercise their memorywith pleasure, from the immediate sense of utility and success. Apiece of knowledge, which they lay by in their minds, with the hopesof making use of it in some future invention, they have more motivesfor remembering, than what they merely learn by rote, because they arecommanded to do so by the voice of authority. (June 19th, 1796. ) S----, a boy of nine years old, of good abilities, was translating Ovid's description of envy. When he came to the Latinword _suffusa_, he pronounced it as if it had been spelled with asingle _f_ and a double _s_, _sufussa_; he made the same mistakeseveral times: at last his father, to _try_ whether it would make himremember the right pronunciation, desired him to repeat _suffusa_forty times. The boy did so. About three hours afterwards, the boy wasasked whether he recollected the word which he had repeated fortytimes. No, he said, he did not; but he remembered that it meantdiffused. His father recalled the word to his mind, by asking him whatletter it was that he had sounded as if it had been a double letter;he said _s_. And what double letter did you sound as if it had beensingle? _f_, said the boy. Then, said his father, you have found outthat it was a word in which there was a double _ff_ and a single _s_, and that it is the Latin for _diffused_. Oh, suffusa, said the boy. This boy, who had such difficulty in learning a single Latin word, byrepeating it forty times, showed in other instances, that he was by nomeans deficient in recollective memory. On the contrary, though heread very little, and seldom learned any thing by rote, he appliedhappily any thing that he read or heard in conversation. (March 31st, 1796. ) His father told him, that he had this morning seena large horn at a gentleman's in the neighbourhood. It was foundthirty spades depth below the surface of the earth, in a bog. With thehorn was found a carpet, and wrapped up in the carpet a lump oftallow. "Now, " said his father, "how could that lump of tallow comethere? Or was it tallow, do you think? Or what could it be?" H---- (a boy of 14, brother to S----) said, he thought it might havebeen buried by some robbers, after they had committed some robbery; hethought the lump was tallow. S---- said, "Perhaps some dead body might have been wrapped up in thecarpet and buried; and the dead body might have turned intotallow. "[53] "How came you, " said his father, "to think of a dead body's turninginto tallow?" "You told me, " said the boy, "You read to me, I mean, an account ofsome dead bodies that had been buried a great many years, which hadturned into tallow. " "Spermaceti, " you mean? "Yes. " S---- had heard the account he alluded to above two months before thistime. No one in company recollected it except himself, though severalhad heard it. Amongst the few things which S---- had learnt by heart, was the Hymnto Adversity. A very slight circumstance may show, that he did not getthis poem merely as a tiresome lesson, as children sometimes learn byrote what they do not understand, and which they never recollectexcept in the arduous moments of formal repetition. A few days after S---- had learned the Hymn to Adversity, he happenedto hear his sister say to a lady, "I observed you pitied me for havinghad a whitlow on my finger, more than any body else did, because youhave had one yourself. " S----'s father asked him why he smiled. "Because, " said S----, "I was thinking of the _song_, [54] the _hymn_to adversity; "And from her own she learned to melt at other's wo. " A recollective memory of books appears early in children who are notoverwhelmed with them; if the impressions made upon their minds bedistinct, they will recur with pleasure to the memory when similarideas are presented. July 1796. S---- heard his father read Sir Brook Boothby's excellentepitaph upon Algernon Sidney; the following lines pleased the boyparticularly: "Approach, contemplate this immortal name, Swear on this shrine to emulate his fame; To dare, like him, e'en to thy latest breath, Contemning chains, and poverty, and death. " S----'s father asked him why he liked these lines, and whether theyput him in mind of any thing that he had heard before. S---- said, "Itputs me in mind of Hamilcar's making his son Hannibal swear to hatethe Romans, and love his countrymen eternally. But I like _this_ muchbetter. I think it was exceedingly foolish and wrong of Hamilcar tomake his son swear always to hate the Romans. " Latin lessons are usually so very disagreeable to boys, that theyseldom are pleased with any allusions to them; but by a goodmanagement in a tutor, even these lessons may be associated withagreeable ideas. Boys should be encouraged to talk and think aboutwhat they learn in Latin, as well as what they read in English; theyshould be allowed to judge of the characters described in ancientauthors, to compare them with our present ideas of excellence, andthus to make some use of their learning. It will then be not merelyengraved upon their memory in the form of lessons, it will be mingledwith their notions of life and manners; it will occur to them whenthey converse, and when they act; they will possess the admired talentfor classical allusion, as well as all the solid advantages of anunprejudiced judgment. It is not enough that gentlemen should bemasters of the learned languages, they must know how to produce theirknowledge without pedantry or affectation. The memory may in vain bestored with classical precedents, unless these can be brought into usein speaking or writing without the parade of dull citation, or formalintroduction. "Sir, " said Dr. Johnson, to some prosing tormentor, "Iwould rather a man would knock me down, than to begin to talk to me ofthe Punic wars. " A public speaker, who rises in the House of Commons, with pedantry prepense to quote Latin or Greek, is coughed or laugheddown; but the beautiful unpremeditated classical allusions of Burke orSheridan, sometimes conveyed in a single word, seize the imaginationirresistibly. Since we perceive, that memory is chiefly useful as it furnishesmaterials for invention, and that invention can greatly abridge themere labour of accumulation, we must examine how the inventive facultycan be properly exercised. The vague precept of, cultivate the memoryand invention of young people at the same time, will not informparents how this is to be accomplished; we trust, therefore, that wemay be permitted, contrary to the custom of didactic writers, toillustrate a general precept by a few examples; and we take theseexamples from real life, because we apprehend, that fictions, howeveringenious, will never advance the science of education so much assimple experiments. No elaborate theory of invention shall here alarm parents. It is amistake, to suppose that the inventive faculty can be employed only onimportant subjects; it can be exercised in the most triflingcircumstances of domestic life. Scarcely any family can be sounfortunately situated, that they may not employ the ingenuity oftheir children without violent exertion, or any grand apparatus. Letus only make use of the circumstances which happen every hour. Children are interested in every thing that is going forward. Building, or planting, or conversation, or reading; they attend toevery thing, and from every thing might they with a little assistanceobtain instruction. Let their useful curiosity be encouraged; let themmake a part of the general society of the family, instead of beingtreated as if they had neither senses nor understanding. When anything is to be done, let them be asked to invent the best way of doingit. When they see that their invention becomes immediately useful, they will take pleasure in exerting themselves. June 4th, 1796. A lady, who had been ruling pencil lines for aconsiderable time, complained of its being a tiresome operation; andshe wished that a quick and easy way of doing it could be invented. Somebody present said they had seen pens for ruling music books, whichruled four lines at a time; and it was asked, whether a leaden rakecould not be made to rule a sheet of paper at once. Mr. ---- said, that he thought such a pencil would not rule well; andhe called to S----, (the same boy we mentioned before) and asked himif he could invent any method of doing the business better. S---- tookabout a quarter of an hour to consider; and he then described a littlemachine for ruling a sheet of paper at a single stroke, which hisfather had executed for him. It succeeded well, and this success wasthe best reward he could have. Another day Mr. ---- observed, that the maid, whose business it was toempty a bucket of ashes into an ash-hole, never could be persuaded todo it, because the ashes were blown against her face by the wind; andhe determined to invent a method which should make it convenient toher to do as she was desired. The maid usually threw the ashes into aheap on the sheltered side of a wall; the thing to be done was, tomake her put the bucket through a hole in this wall, and empty theashes on the other side. This problem was given to all the childrenand grown up persons in the family. One of the children invented theshelf, which, they said, should be like part of the vane of awinnowing machine which they had lately seen; the manner of placingthis vane, another of the children suggested: both these ideas joinedtogether, produced the contrivance which was wanted. A little model was made in wood of this bucket, which was a prettytoy. The thing itself was executed, and was found useful. June 8th, 1796. Mr. ---- was balancing a pair of scales very exactly, in which he was going to weigh some opium; this led to a conversationupon scales and weighing. Some one said that the dealers in diamondsmust have very exact scales, as the difference of a grain makes such agreat difference in their value. S---- was very attentive to thisconversation. M----told him, that jewellers always, if they can, buydiamonds when the air is light, and sell them when it is heavy. S----did not understand the reason of this, till his father explained tohim the general principles of hydrostatics, and showed him a fewexperiments with bodies of different specific gravity: theseexperiments were distinctly understood by every body present. The boythen observed, that it was not fair of the jewellers to buy and sellin this manner; they should not, said he, use _these_ weights. Diamonds should be the weights. Diamonds should be weighed againstdiamonds. November, 1795. One day after dinner, the candles had been left forsome time without being snuffed; and Mr. ---- said he wished candlescould be made which would not require snuffing. Mrs. ******** thought of cutting the wick into several pieces beforeit was put into the candle, that so, when it burned down to thedivisions, the wick might fall off. M---- thought that the wick mightbe tied tight round at intervals, before it was put into the candle;that when it burned down to the places where it was tied, it wouldsnap off: but Mr. ---- objected, that the candle would most likely goout when it had burned down to her knots. It was then proposed to senda stream of oxygene through the candle, instead of a wick. M---- askedif some substance might not be used for wicks which should burn intopowder, and fly off or sublime. Mr. ---- smiled at this, and said, "_Some substance_; some _kind of air_; some _chemical mixture_! Aperson ignorant of chemistry always talks of, as an ignorant person inmechanics always says, "Oh, you can do it somehow with _a spring_. " As the company could not immediately discover any way of makingcandles which should not require to be snuffed, they proceeded toinvent ways of putting out a candle at a certain time without hands. The younger part of the company had hopes of solving this problem, andevery eye was attentively fixed upon the candle. "How would you put it out, S----?" said Mr. ----. S---- said, that ifa weight, a very little lighter than the extinguisher, were tied to astring, and if the string were put over a pulley, and if _the_extinguisher were tied to the other end of the string, and the candleput exactly under the extinguisher; the extinguisher would move very, very gently down, and at last put out the candle. Mr. ---- observed, that whilst it was putting out the candle, therewould be a disagreeable smell, because the extinguisher would be aconsiderable time moving _very, very gently down_, over the candleafter the candle had begun to go out. C---- (a girl of twelve years old) spoke next. "I would tie anextinguisher to one end of a thread. I would put this string through apulley fastened to the ceiling; the other end of this string should befastened to the middle of another thread, which should be strainedbetween two posts set upright on each side of the candle, so as thatthe latter string might lean against the candle at any distance youwant below the flame. When the candle burns down to this string, itwill burn it in two, and the extinguisher will drop upon the candle. " This is the exact description of _the weaver's alarm_, mentioned inthe Philosophical Transactions which C---- had never seen or heard of. Mr. ---- now showed us the patent extinguisher, which was muchapproved of by all the rival inventors. It is very useful to give children problems which have already beensolved, because they can immediately compare their own imperfect ideaswith successful inventions, which have actually been brought into realuse. We know beforehand what ideas are necessary to complete theinvention, and whether the pupil has all the necessary knowledge. Though by the courtesy of poetry, a creative power is ascribed toinventive genius, yet we must be convinced that no genius can inventwithout materials. Nothing can come of nothing. Invention is nothingmore than the new combination of materials. We must judge in generalof the ease or difficulty of any invention, either by the number ofideas necessary to be combined, or by the dissimilarity or analogy ofthose ideas. In giving any problem to children, we should not onlyconsider whether they know all that is necessary upon the subject, butalso, whether that knowledge is sufficiently _familiar_ to theirminds, whether circumstances are likely to recall it, and whether theyhave a perfectly Clear idea of the thing to be done. By consideringall these particulars, we may pretty nearly proportion our questionsto the capacity of the pupil; and we may lead his mind on step by stepfrom obvious to intricate inventions. July 30th, 1796. L----, who had just returned from Edinburgh, and hadtaken down in two large volumes, Dr. Black's Lectures, used to read tous part of them, for about a quarter of an hour, every morning afterbreakfast. He was frequently interrupted (which interruptions he borewith heroic patience) by Mr. ----'s explanations and comments. When hecame to the expansive power of steam, and to the description of thedifferent steam engines which have been invented, Mr. ---- stopped toask B----, C----, and S----, to describe the steam engine in their ownwords. They all described it in such a manner as to show that theyclearly understood the principle of the machine. Only the generalprinciple had been explained to them. L----, after having read thedescription of Savary's and Newcomen's steam engines, was beginning toread the description of that invented by Mr. Watt; but Mr. ----stopped him, that he might try whether any person present could inventit. Mr. E---- thus stated the difficulty: "In the old steam engine, cold water, you know, is thrown into the cylinder to condense thesteam; but in condensing the steam, the cold water at the same timecools the cylinder. Now the cylinder must be heated again, before itcan be filled with steam; for till it is heated, it will condense thesteam. There is, consequently, a great waste of heat and fuel in thegreat cylinder. How can you condense the steam without cooling thecylinder?" S----. "Let down a cold tin tube into the cylinder when you want tocondense the steam, and draw it up again as soon as the steam iscondensed; or, if you could put a _cylinder_ of ice up the greattube. " Some of the company next asked, if an horizontal plate of cold metal, made to slide up the inside of the cylinder, would condense the steam. The edges of the plate only would touch the cylinder; the surface ofthe plate might condense the steam. "But, " said Mr. ----"how can you introduce and withdraw it?" C---- (a girl of 12) then said, "I would put a cold vessel to condensethe steam at the top of the cylinder. " Mr. ----. "So as to touch the cylinder, do you mean?" C----. "No, not so as to touch the cylinder, but at some distance fromit. " Mr. ----. "Then the cold air would rush into the cylinder whilst thesteam was passing from the cylinder to your condenser. " C----. "But I would cover in the cold vessel, and I would cover in thepassage to it. " Mr. ----. "I have the pleasure of informing you, that you haveinvented part of the great Mr. Watt's improvement on the steam engine. You see how it facilitates invention, to begin by stating thedifficulty clearly to the mind. This is what every practical inventordoes when he invents in mechanics. " L---- (smiling. ) "And what _I_ always do in inventing a mathematicaldemonstration. " To the good natured reader we need offer no apology; to the illnatured we dare attempt none, for introducing these detailed views ofthe first attempts of young invention. They are not exhibited asmodels, either to do honour to the tutor or his pupils; but simply toshow, how the mind may be led from the easiest steps, to what aresupposed to be difficult in education. By imagining ourselves to be inthe same situation with children, we may guess what things aredifficult to them; and if we can recollect the course of our own mindsin acquiring knowledge, or in inventing, we may by retracing the samesteps instruct others. The order that is frequently followed byauthors, in the division and subdivision of their elementarytreatises, is not always the best for those who are to learn. Suchauthors are usually more intent upon proving to the learned that theyunderstand their subject, than upon communicating their knowledge tothe ignorant. Parents and tutors must, therefore, supply familiar oralinstruction, and those simple, but essential explanations, which booksdisdain, or neglect to give. And there is this advantage in allinstruction given in conversation, that it can be made interesting bya thousand little circumstances, which are below the dignity ofdidactic writers. Gradually we may proceed from simple to morecomplicated contrivances. The invention of experiments to determine atheory, or to ascertain the truth of an assertion, must beparticularly useful to the understanding. Any person, who has attendedto experiments in chemistry and natural philosophy, must know, thatinvention can be as fully and elegantly displayed upon these subjectsas upon any in the fine arts or literature. There is one greatadvantage in scientific invention; it is not dependent upon capricioustaste for its reward. The beauty and elegance of a poem may bedisputed by a thousand amateurs; there can be but one opinion aboutthe truth of a discovery in science. Independent of all ambition, there is considerable pleasure in thepursuit of experimental knowledge. Children especially, before theyare yet fools to fame, enjoy this substantial pleasure. Nor are we tosuppose that children have not capacities for such pursuits; they arepeculiarly suited to their capacity. They love to see experimentstried, and to try them. They show this disposition not only whereverthey are encouraged, but wherever they are permitted to show it; andif we compare their method of reasoning with the reasonings of thelearned, we shall sometimes be surprised. They have no prejudices, therefore they have the complete use of all their senses; they havefew ideas, but those few are distinct; they can be analyzed andcompared with ease; children, therefore, judge and invent better, _inproportion to their knowledge_, than most grown up people. Dr. Hooke observes, that a sensible man, in solving any philosophicalproblem, should always lean to that side which is opposite to hisfavourite taste. A chemist is disposed to account for every thing bychemical means; a geometrician is inclined to solve every problemgeometrically; and a mechanic accounts for all the phenomena of natureby the laws of mechanism. This undue bias upon the minds of ingeniouspeople, has frequently rendered their talents less useful to mankind. It is the duty of those who educate ingenious children, to guardagainst this species of scientific insanity. There are prejudices of another description, which are fatal toinventive genius; some of these are usually found to attend ignorance, and others sometimes adhere to the learned. Ignorant people, if theypossess any degree of invention, are so confident in their ownabilities, that they will not take the pains to inquire what othershave thought or done; they disdain all general principles, and willrather scramble through some by-path of their own striking out, thancondescend to be shown the best road by the most enlightened guide. For this reason, self-taught geniuses, as they are called, seldom gobeyond a certain point in their own education, and the praise webestow upon their ingenuity is always accompanied with expressions ofregret: "It is a pity that such a genius had not the advantages of agood education. " The learned, on the contrary, who have been bred up in reverence forestablished opinions, and who have felt in many instances theadvantage of general principles, are apt to adhere too pertinaciouslyto their theories, and hence they neglect or despise new observations. How long did the maxim, that nature abhors a vacuum, content thelearned! And how many discoveries were retarded by this single falseprinciple! For a great number of years it was affirmed and believed, that all objects were seen by the intervention of visual rays, proceeding from the eye much in the same manner as we feel any objectat a distance from us by the help of a stick. [55] Whilst this absurdanalogy satisfied the mind, no discoveries were made in vision, nonewere attempted. A prepossession often misleads the industry of activegenius. Dr. Hooke, in spite of the ridicule which he met with, wasfirm in his belief, that mankind would discover some method of sailingin the air. Balloons have justified his prediction; but all his ownindustry in trying experiments upon flying was wasted, because hepersisted in following a false analogy to the wings of birds. He madewings of various sorts; till he took it for granted that he _must_learn to fly by mechanical means: had he applied to chemistry, hemight have succeeded. It is curious to observe, how nearly he oncetouched upon the discovery, and yet, misled by his prepossessions, quitted his hold. He observed, that the air cells[56] of fishes arefilled with air, which buoys them up in the water; and he supposesthat this air is lighter than _common_ air. Had he pursued this idea, he might have invented balloons; but he returned with fatalperseverance to his old theory of wings. From such facts, we may learnthe power and danger of prejudice in the most ingenious minds; and weshall be careful to preserve our pupils early from its blind dominion. The best preservation against the presumption to which ignorance isliable, and the best preservative against the self sufficiency towhich the learned are subject, is the habit of varying our studies andoccupations. Those who have a general view of the whole map of humanknowledge, perceive how many unexplored regions are yet to becultivated by future industry; nor will they implicitly submit to thereports of ignorant voyagers. No imaginary pillars of Hercules, willbound their enterprises. There is no presumption in believing, thatmuch more is possible to science than ever human ingenuity hasexecuted; therefore, young people should not be ridiculed for thatsanguine temper which excites to great inventions. They should beridiculed only when they imagine that they possess the means of doingthings to which they are unequal. The fear of this deserved ridicule, will stimulate them to acquire knowledge, and will induce them toestimate cautiously their own powers before they hazard theirreputation. We need not fear that this caution should repress theiractivity of mind; ambition will secure their perseverance, if they aretaught that every acquisition is within the reach of unremittingindustry. This is not an opinion to be artfully inculcated to serve a_particular_ purpose, but it is an opinion drawn from experience; anopinion which men of the highest abilities and integrity, of talentsand habits the most dissimilar, have confirmed by their unitedtestimony. Helvetius maintained, that no great man ever formed a greatdesign which he was not also capable of executing. Even where great perseverance is exercised, the choice of the subjectson which the inventive powers are employed determines, in a greatmeasure, their value: therefore, in the education of ingeniouschildren, we should gradually turn their attention from curioustrifles to important objects. Boverick, [57] who made chains "to yoke aflea, " must have possessed exquisite patience; besides his chain oftwo hundred links, with its padlock and key, all weighing togetherless than the third part of a grain, this indefatigable _minuteartificer_ was the maker of a landau, which opened and shut bysprings: this equipage, with six horses harnessed to it, a coachmansitting on the box, with a dog between his legs, four inside and twooutside passengers, besides a postilion riding one of the fore horses, was drawn with all the ease and safety imaginable by a well trainedflea! The inventor and executor of this puerile machine, bestowed onit, probably, as much time as would have sufficed to produce Watt'sfire engine, or Montgolfier's balloon. It did not, perhaps, cost theMarquis of Worcester more exertion to draw out his celebrated centuryof inventions; it did not, perhaps, cost Newton more to write thosequeries which Maclaurin said he could never read without feeling hishair stand on end with admiration. Brebeuf, a French wit, wrote a hundred and fifty epigrams upon apainted lady; a brother wit, fired with emulation, wrote upon the samesubject three hundred more, making in all four hundred and fiftyepigrams, each with appropriate turns of their own. Probably, Pope andParnell did not rack their invention so much, or exercise moreindustry in completing "The Rape of the Lock, " or "The Rise of Woman. "These will live for ever; who will read the four hundred and fiftyepigrams? The most effectual methods to discourage in young people the taste forfrivolous ingenuity, will be, never to admire these "laboriousnothings, " to compare them with useful and elegant inventions, and toshow that vain curiosities can be but the wonder and amusement of amoment. Children who begin with trifling inventions, may be led fromthese to general principles; and with their knowledge, their ambitionwill necessarily increase. It cannot be expected that the mostenlarged plan of education could early give an intimate acquaintancewith all the sciences; but with their leading principles, theirgeneral history, their present state, and their immediatedesiderata, [58] young people may, and ought to be, made acquainted. Their own industry will afterwards collect more precise information, and they will never waste their time in vain studies and fruitlessinventions. Even if the cultivation of the memory were our grandobject, this plan of education will succeed. When the Abbé deLonguerue, whose prodigious memory we have formerly mentioned, wasasked by the Marquis d'Argenson, how he managed to arrange and retainin his head every thing that entered it, and to recollect every thingwhen wanted? The Abbé answered: "Sir, the elements of every science must be learned whilst we are veryyoung; the first principles of every language; the a b c, as I maysay, of every kind of knowledge: this is not difficult in youth, especially as it is not necessary to penetrate far; simple notions aresufficient; when once these are acquired, every thing we readafterwards, finds its proper place. " FOOTNOTES: [39] V. Plutarch. Quintilian. [40] Berington's History of the Lives of Abeillard and Heloisa, page173. [41] Eloge de M. L'Abbé d'Alary. [42] Marquis d'Argenson's Essays, page 385. [43] D'Alembert's Eloge de M. D'Alary. [44] Curiosities of Literature, vol. Ii. Page 145. [45] Priestley on Electricity, page 317. [46] Fuller, author of the Worthies of England. See Curiosities ofLiterature, vol. I. [47] V. Chapter on Books, and on Geography. [48] Dr. Darwin. Zoonomia. [49] At the end of the History of Vision. [50] "Nov. 7, 1749. Electrical fluid agrees with lightning in theseparticulars. 1. Giving light. 2. Colour of the light. 3. Crookeddirection. 4. Swift motion. 5. Being conducted by metals. 6. Crack ornoise in exploding. 7. Subsisting in water or ice. 8. Rending bodiesit passes through. 9. Destroying animals. 10. Melting metals. 11. Firing inflammable substances. 12. Sulphureous smell. The electricfluid is attracted by points. We do not know whether this property isin lightning. But since they agree in all the particulars wherein wecan already compare them, is it not probable they agree likewise inthis? Let the experiment be made. " _Dr. Franklin's Letters, page 322. _ [51] Helvetius, "Sur l'Esprit. " [52] See preface to L'Esprit des Romains considéré. [53] See the account in the Monthly Review. [54] He had tried to sing it to the tune of "Hope, thou nurse of youngdesire. " [55] Priestley on Vision, vol. I. Page 23. [56] V. Hooke's Posthumous Works. [57] Hooke's Mycrographia, p. 62. CHAPTER XXII. TASTE AND IMAGINATION. Figurative language seems to have confounded the ideas of most writersupon metaphysics. Imagination, Memory, and Reason, have been longintroduced to our acquaintance as allegorical personages, and we haveinsensibly learned to consider them as real beings. The "viewlessregions" of the soul, have been portioned out amongst these idealsovereigns; but disputes have, nevertheless, sometimes arisenconcerning the boundaries of intellectual provinces. Amongst thedisputed territories, those of Imagination have been most frequentlythe seat of war; her empire has been subject to continual revolution;her dominions have been, by potent invaders, divided and subdivided. Fancy, [59] Memory, [60] Ideal presence, [61] and Conception, [62] haveshared her spoils. By poets, imagination has been addressed as the great parent ofgenius, as the arbiter, if not the creator, of our pleasures; byphilosophers, her name has been sometimes pronounced with horror; toher fatal delusions, they have ascribed all the crimes and miseries ofmankind. Yet, even philosophers have not always agreed in theiropinions: whilst some have treated Imagination with contempt, as theirreconcileable enemy of Reason, by others[63] she has been consideredwith more respect, as Reason's inseparable friend; as the friend whocollects and prepares all the arguments upon which Reason decides; asthe injured, misrepresented power who is often forced to supply heradversaries with eloquence, who is often called upon to preside at herown trial, and to pronounce her own condemnation. Imagination is "_the power_, " we are told, of "_forming images_:" theword image, however, does not, strictly speaking, express any thingmore than a representation of an object of sight; but the power ofimagination extends to objects of all the senses. "I hear a voice you cannot hear, Which says I must not stay. I see a hand you cannot see, Which beckons me away. " Imagination hears the voice, as well as sees the hand; by an easylicense of metaphor, what was originally used to express the operationof our senses, is extended to them all. We do not precisely say, thatImagination, forms _images_ of past sounds, or tastes, or smells; butwe say that she forms ideas of them; and ideas, we are told, aremental images. It has been suggested by Dr. Darwin, that all theseanalogies between images and thoughts have, probably, originated inour observing the little pictures painted on the retina of the eye. It is difficult certainly, if not impossible, to speak of theinvisible operations of the mind or body, without expressing ourselvesin metaphor of some kind or other; and we are easily misled byallusions to sensible objects, because when we comprehend theallusion, we flatter ourselves that we understand the theory which itis designed to illustrate. Whether we call ideas images in popularlanguage, or vibrations, according to Dr. Hartley's system, or modesof sensation with Condillac, or motions of the sensorium, in thelanguage of Dr. Darwin, may seem a matter of indifference. But eventhe choices of names is not a matter of indifference to those who wishto argue accurately; when they are obliged to describe their feelingsor thoughts by metaphoric expressions, they will prefer the simplest;those with which the fewest extraneous associations are connected. Words which call up a variety of heterogeneous ideas to our minds, areunfit for the purposes of sober reasoning; our attention is distractedby them, and we cannot restrain it to the accurate comparison ofsimple proportions. We yield to pleasing reverie, instead of exertingpainful voluntary attention. Hence it is probably useful in ourattempts to reason, especially upon metaphysical subjects, to changefrom time to time our nomenclature, [64] and to substitute terms whichhave no relation to our old associations, and which do not affect theprejudices of our education. We are obliged to define with some degreeof accuracy the sense of new terms, and we are thus led to compare ourold notions with more severity. Our superstitious reverence for meresymbols is also dissipated; symbols are apt to impose even upon thosewho acknowledge their vanity, and who profess to consider them merelyas objects of vulgar worship. When we call a class of our ideas _images_ and pictures, a tribe ofassociations with painting comes into our mind, and we argue aboutImagination as if she were actually a paintress, who has colours ather command, and who, upon some invisible canvass in the soul, portrays the likeness of all earthly and celestial objects. When wecontinue to pursue the same metaphor in speaking of the moralinfluence of Imagination, we say that her _colouring_ deceives us, that her _pictures_ are flattering and false, that she draws objectsout of proportion, &c. To what do all these metaphors lead? We make nonew discoveries by talking in this manner; we do not learn the causeor the cure of any of the diseases of the mind; we only persuadeourselves that we know something, when we are really ignorant. We have sedulously avoided entering into any metaphysicaldisquisitions; but we have examined with care the systems of theoreticwriters, that we may be able to avail ourselves of such of theirobservations as can be reduced to practice in education. With respectto the arts, imagination may be considered practically in two pointsof view, as it relates to our taste, and as it relates to our talentsfor the arts. Without being a poet, or an orator, a man may have asufficient degree of imagination to receive pleasure from the talentsof others; he may be a critical judge of the respective merits oforators, poets, and artists. This sensibility to the pleasures of theimagination, when judiciously managed, adds much to the happiness oflife, and it must be peculiarly advantageous to those who areprecluded by their station in society from the necessity of manuallabour. Mental exercise, and mental amusements, are essential topersons in the higher ranks of life, who would escape from the feverof dissipation, or from the lethargy of ennui. The mere physicaladvantages which wealth can procure, are reducible to the short sum of"_meat, fire, and clothes_. " A nobleman of the highest birth, and withthe longest line of ancestry, inherits no intuitive taste, nor can hepurchase it from the artist, the painter, or the poet; the possessionof the whole Pinelli library could not infuse the slightest portion ofliterature. Education can alone give the full power to enjoy the realadvantages of fortune. To educate the taste and the imagination, it isnot necessary to surround the heir of an opulent family with mastersand connoisseurs. Let him never hear the jargon of amateurs, let himlearn the art "not to admire. " But in his earliest childhood cultivatehis senses with care, that he may be able to see and hear, to feel andunderstand, for himself. Visible images he will rapidly collect in hismemory; but these must be selected, and his first associations mustnot be trusted to accident. Encourage him to observe with attentionall the works of nature, but show him only the best imitations of art;the first objects that he contemplates with delight, will remain longassociated with pleasure in his imagination; you must, therefore, becareful, that these early associations accord with the decisions ofthose who have determined the national standard of taste. In manyinstances taste is governed by arbitrary and variable laws; thefashions of dress, of decoration, of manner, change from day to day;therefore no exclusive prejudices should confine your pupil'sunderstanding. Let him know, as far as we know them, the generalprinciples which govern mankind in their admiration of the sublime andbeautiful; but at the same time give him that enlarged toleration ofmind, which comprehends the possibility of a taste different from ourown. Show him, and you need not go further than the Indian skreen, orthe Chinese paper in your drawing room, for the illustration, thatthe sublime and beautiful vary at Pekin, at London, on Westminsterbridge, and on the banks of the Ganges. Let your young pupil look overa collection of gems or of ancient medals; it is necessary that hiseye should be early accustomed to Grecian beauty, and to all theclassic forms of grace. But do not suffer him to become a bigot, though he may be an enthusiast in his admiration of the antique. Shortlessons upon this subject may be conveyed in a few words. If a childsees you look at the bottom of a print for the name of the artist, before you will venture to pronounce upon its merits, he will followyour example, and he will judge by the authority of others, and not byhis own taste. If he hears you ask, who wrote this poem? Who builtthis palace? Is this a genuine antique? he will ask the same questionsbefore he ventures to be pleased. If he hears you pronounce withemphasis, that such a thing comes from Italy, and therefore must be ingood taste, he will take the same compendious method of decision uponthe first convenient occasion. He will not trouble himself to examine why utility pleases, nor willhe analyze his taste, or discover why one proportion or one designpleases him better than another; he will, if by example you teach himprejudice, content himself with repeating the words, proportion, antique, picturesque, &c. Without annexing any precise ideas to thesewords. Parents, who have not turned their attention to metaphysics, may, perhaps, apprehend, that they have something very abstruse orintricate to learn, before they can instruct their pupils in theprinciples of taste: but these principles are simple, and two or threeentertaining books, of no very alarming size, comprise all that hasyet been ascertained upon this subject. Vernet's Théorie desSentiments Agréables; Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty; an Essay of Hume'son the standard of taste; Burke's Sublime and Beautiful; Lord Kames'sElements of Criticism; Sir Joshua Reynold's Discourses; and Alison onTaste; contain so much instruction, mixed with so much amusement, thatwe cannot think that it will be a _terrible task_ to any parent toperuse them. These books are above the comprehension of children; but theprinciples which they contain, can be very early illustrated inconversation. It will be easy, in familiar instances, to show childrenthat the fitness, propriety, or utility of certain forms, recommendsthem to our approbation: that uniformity, an appearance of order andregularity, are, in some cases, agreeable to us; contrast, in others:that one class of objects pleases us from habit, another from novelty, &c. The general principle that governs taste, in the greatest varietyof instances, is the association of ideas, and this, fortunately, canbe most easily illustrated. "I like such a person, because her voice puts me in mind of mymother's. I like this walk, because I was very happy the last time Iwas here with my sister. I think green is the prettiest of allcolours; my father's room is painted green, and it is very cheerful, and I have been very happy in that room; and, besides, the grass isgreen in spring. " Such simple observations as these, come naturallyfrom children; they take notice of the influence of association upontheir taste, though, perhaps, they may not extend their observationsso as to deduce the general principle according to philosophicalforms. We should not lay down for them this or any other principle oftaste, as a rule which they are to take for granted; but we shouldlead them to class their own desultory remarks, and we should excitethem to attend to their own feelings, and to ascertain the truth, byexperiments upon themselves. We have often observed, that childrenhave been much entertained with comparing the accidental circumstancesthey have met with, and the unpremeditated expressions used inconversation, with any general maxim. In this point of view, we mayrender even general maxims serviceable to children, because they willexcite to experiment: our pupils will detect their falsehood, or, after sufficient reflection, acknowledge their truth. Perhaps it may be thought, that this mode of instruction will tendrather to improve the judgment than the taste; but every person ofgood taste, must have also a good judgment in matters of taste:sometimes the judgment may have been partially exercised upon aparticular class of objects, and its accuracy of discrimination may beconfined to this one subject; therefore we hastily decide, that, because men of taste may not always be men of universally goodjudgment, these two powers of the mind are unnecessary to one another. By teaching the philosophy, at the same time that we cultivate thepleasures, of taste, we shall open to our pupils a new world; we shallgive them a new sense. The pleasure of every effect will be increasedby the perception of its cause; the magic of the scenery will not loseits power to charm, though we are aware of the secret of theenchantment. We have hitherto spoken of the taste for what is beautiful; a tastefor the sublime we should be cautious in cultivating. Obscurity andterror are two of the grand sources of the sublime; analyze thefeeling, examine accurately the object which creates the emotion, andyou dissipate the illusion, you annihilate the pleasure. "What seemed its head, the likeness of a kingly crown had on. " The indistinctness of the head and of the kingly crown, makes this asublime image. Upon the same principle, "Danger, whose limbs, of giant mould, No mortal eye can fix'd behold, " always must appear sublime as long as the passion of fear operates. Would it not, however, be imprudent in education to permit that earlypropensity to superstitious terrors, and that temporary suspension ofthe reasoning faculties, which are often essential to our taste forthe sublime? When we hear of "Margaret's grimly ghost, " or of the"dead still hour of night, " a sort of awful tremor seizes us, partlyfrom the effect of early associations, and partly from the solemn toneof the reader. The early associations which we perhaps have formed ofterror, with the ideas of apparitions, and winding sheets, and sableshrouds, should be unknown to children. The silent solemn hour ofmidnight, should not to them be an hour of terror. In the followingpoetic description of the beldam telling dreadful stories to herinfant audience, we hear only of the pleasures of the imagination; wedo not recollect how dearly these pleasures must be purchased by theirvotaries: "* * * * * * finally by night The village matron, round the blazing hearth, Suspends the infant audience with her tales, Breathing astonishment! of witching rhymes, And evil spirits; of the death-bed call Of him who robbed the widow, and devour'd The orphan's portion; of the unquiet souls Ris'n from the grave to ease the heavy guilt Of deeds in life concealed; of shapes that walk At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wave The torch of hell around the murd'rer's bed. At every solemn pause the crowd recoil, Gazing each other speechless, and congeal'd With shiv'ring sighs; till, eager for th' event, Around the beldam all erect they hang, Each trembling heart with grateful terrors quell'd. "[65] No prudent mother will ever imitate this eloquent village matron, norwill she permit any beldam in the nursery to conjure up these sublimeshapes, and to quell the hearts of her children with these gratefulterrors. We were once present when a group of speechless children satlistening to the story of Blue-beard, "breathing astonishment. " Agentleman who saw the charm beginning to operate, resolved tocounteract its dangerous influence. Just at the critical moment, whenthe fatal key drops from the trembling hands of the imprudent wife, the gentleman interrupted the awful pause of silence that ensued, andrequested permission to relate the remainder of the story. Tragi-comedy does not offend the taste of young, so much as of oldcritics; the transition from grave to gay was happily managed. Blue-beard's wife afforded much diversion, and lost all sympathy themoment she was represented as a curious, tattling, timid, ridiculouswoman. The terrors of Blue-beard himself subsided when he was properlyintroduced to the company; and the denouement of the piece was managedmuch to the entertainment of the audience; the catastrophe, instead offreezing their young blood, produced general laughter. Ludicrousimages, thus presented to the mind which has been prepared for horror, have an instantaneous effect upon the risible muscles: it seems betterto use these means of counteracting the terrors of the imagination, than to reason upon the subject whilst the fit is on; reason should beused between the fits. [66] Those who study the minds of children knowthe nice touches which affect their imagination, and they can, by afew words, change their feelings by the power of association. Ferdinand Duke of Tuscany was once struck with the picture of a childcrying: the painter, [67] who was at work upon the head, wished to givethe duke a proof of his skill: by a few judicious strokes, heconverted the crying into a laughing face. The duke, when he looked atthe child again, was in astonishment: the painter, to show himselfmaster of the human countenance, restored his first touches; and theduke, in a few moments, saw the child weeping again. A preceptor mayacquire similar power over the countenance of his pupil if he hasstudied the oratorical art. By the art of oratory, we do not mean theart of misrepresentation, the art of deception; we mean the art ofshowing the truth in the strongest light; of exciting virtuousenthusiasm and generous indignation. Warm, glowing eloquence, is notinconsistent with accuracy of reasoning and judgment. When we haveexpressed our admiration or abhorrence of any action or character, weshould afterwards be ready coolly to explain to our pupils the justiceof our sentiments: by this due mixture and alternation of eloquenceand reasoning, we may cultivate a taste for the moral and sublime, andyet preserve the character from any tincture of extravagantenthusiasm. We cannot expect, that the torrent of passion should neversweep away the land-marks of exact morality; but after its overflowingimpetuosity abates, we should take a calm survey of its effects, andwe should be able to ascertain the boundaries of right and wrong withgeometrical precision. There is a style of bombast morality affected by some authors, whichmust be hurtful to young readers. Generosity and honour, courage andsentiment, are the striking qualities which seize and enchant theimagination in romance: these qualities must be joined with justice, prudence, economy, patience, and many humble virtues, to make acharacter really estimable; but these would spoil the effect, perhaps, of dramatic exhibitions. Children may with much greater safety see hideous, than giganticrepresentations of the passions. Richard the Third excites abhorrence;but young Charles de Moor, in "The Robbers, " commands our sympathy;even the enormity of his guilt, exempts him from all ordinary modes oftrial; we forget the murderer, and see something like a hero. It iscurious to observe, that the legislature in Germany, and in England, have found it necessary to interfere as to the representation ofCaptain Mac Heath and the Robbers; two characters in which the tragicand the comic muse have had powerful effects in exciting imitation. George Barnwell is a hideous representation of the passions, andtherefore beneficial. There are many sublime objects which do not depend upon terror, or atleast upon false associations of terror, for their effect; and thereare many sublime thoughts, which have no connection with violentpassions or false ideas of morality. These are what we should select, if possible, to raise, without inflating, the imagination. The view ofthe ocean, of the setting or the rising sun, the great and bold scenesof nature, affects the mind with sublime pleasure. All the objectswhich suggest ideas of vast space, or power, of the infinite durationof time, of the decay of the monuments of ancient grandeur, or of themaster-pieces of human art and industry, have power to raise sublimesensations: but we should consider, that they raise this pleasure onlyby suggesting certain ideas; those who have not the previous ideas, will not feel the pleasure. We should not, therefore, expect thatchildren should admire objects which do not excite any ideas in theirminds; we should wait till they have acquired the necessary knowledge, and we should not injudiciously familiarize them with these objects. Simplicity is a source of the sublime, peculiarly suited to children;accuracy of observation and distinctness of perception, are essentialto this species of the sublime. In Percy's collection of ancientballads, and in the modern poems of the Ayreshire ploughman, we maysee many instances of the effect of simplicity. To preserve ourpupil's taste from a false love of ornament, he must avoid, either inbooks or in conversation, all verbose and turgid descriptions, the useof words and epithets which only fill up the measure of a line. When a child sees any new object, or feels any new sensation, weshould assist him with appropriate words to express his thoughts andfeelings: when the impression is fresh in his mind, the association, with the precise descriptive epithets, can be made with mostcertainty. As soon as a child has acquired a sufficient stock of wordsand ideas, he should be from time to time exercised in description;we should encourage him to give an exact account of his own feelingsin his own words. Those parents who have been used to elegant, willnot, perhaps, be satisfied with the plain, descriptions of unpractisedpupils; but they should not be fastidious; they should rather becontent with an epithet too little, than with an epithet too much; andthey should compare the child's description with the objects actuallydescribed, and not with the poems of Thomson or Gray, or Milton orShakespeare. If we excite our pupils to copy from the writings ofothers, they never can have any originality of thought. To showparents what sort of simple descriptions they may reasonably expectfrom children, we venture to produce the following extemporedescription of a summer's evening, given by three children ofdifferent ages. July 12th, 1796. Mr. ---- was walking out with his family, and heasked his children to describe the evening just as it appeared tothem. "There were three bards in Ossian's poems, " said he, "who weresent out to see what sort of a night it was; they all gave differentdescriptions upon their return; you have never any of you read Ossian, but you can give us some description of this evening; try. " B---- (a girl of 14. ) "The clouds in the west are bright with thelight of the sun which has just set; a thick mist is seen in the east, and the smoke which had been _heaped up_ in the day-time, is nowspread, and mixes with the mist all round us; the noises are heardmore plainly (though there are but few) than in the day-time; andthose which are at a distance, sound almost as near as those which areclose to us; there is a red mist round the moon. " C---- (a girl of eleven years old. ) "The western clouds are pink withthe light of the sun which has just set. The moon shines red throughthe mist. The smoke and mist make it look dark at a distance; but thefew objects near us appear plainer. If it was not for the light ofthe moon, they would not be seen; but the moon is exceedingly bright;it shines upon the house and the windows. Every thing sounds busy at adistance; but what is near us is still. " S---- (a boy between nine and ten years old). "The sun has set behindthe hill, and the western clouds are tinged with light. The mist mixeswith the smoke, which rises from the heaps of weeds which some poorman is burning to earn bread for his family. The moon through the mistpeeps her head, and sometimes she _goes back_, retires into her bowerof clouds. The few noises that are heard, are heard very plain--veryplainly. " We should observe, that the children who attempted these littledescriptions, had not been habituated to the _poetic trade_; thesewere the only descriptions of an evening which they ever made. Itwould be hurtful to exercise children frequently in descriptivecomposition; it would give them the habit of exact observation, it istrue, but something more is necessary to the higher species of poetry. Words must be selected which do not represent only, but which suggest, ideas. Minute veracity is essential to some sorts of description; butin a higher style of poetry, only the large features characteristic ofthe scene must be produced, and all that is subordinate must besuppressed. Sir Joshua Reynolds justly observes, that painters, whoaim merely at deception of the eye by exact imitation, are not likely, even in their most successful imitations, to rouse the imagination. The man who mistook the painted fly for a real fly, only brushed, orattempted to brush it, away. The exact representation of such a commonobject, could not raise any sublime ideas in his mind; and when heperceived the deception, the wonder which he felt at the painter'sart, was a sensation no wise connected with poetic enthusiasm. As soon as young people have collected a variety of ideas, we canproceed a step in the education of their fancy. We should sometimes inconversation, sometimes in writing or in drawing, show them how a fewstrokes, or a few words, can suggest or combine various ideas. Asingle expression from Cæsar, charmed a mutinous army to instantsubmission. Unless the words "_Roman Citizens!_" had suggested morethan meets the ear, how could they have produced this wonderfuleffect? The works of Voltaire and Sterne abound with examples of theskilful use of the language of suggestion: on this the wit ofVoltaire, and the humour and pathos of Sterne, securely depend fortheir success. Thus, corporal Trim's eloquence on the death of hisyoung master, owed its effect upon the whole kitchen, including "thefat scullion, who was scouring a fish-kettle upon her knees, " to thewell-timed use of the mixed language of action and suggestion. "'Are we not here now?' continued the corporal (striking the end ofhis stick perpendicularly upon the floor, so as to give an idea ofhealth and stability) 'and are we not' (dropping his hat upon theground) 'gone in a moment?'" "Are we not here now, and gone in a moment?" continues Sterne, who, inthis instance, reveals the secret of his own art. "There was nothingin the sentence; it was one of your self-evident truths we have theadvantage of hearing every day; and if Trim had not trusted more tohis hat than his head, he had made nothing at all of it. " When we point out to our pupils such examples in Sterne, we hope itwill not be understood, that we point them out to induce servileimitation. We apprehend, that the imitators of Sterne have failed fromnot having discovered that the interjections and ---- dashes of thisauthor, are not in themselves beauties, but that they affect us bysuggesting ideas. To prevent any young writers from the intemperate orabsurd use of interjections, we should show them Mr. Horne Tooke'sacute remarks upon this mode of embellishment. We do not, however, entirely agree with this author in his abhorrence of interjections. We do not believe that "where speech can be employed they are totallyuseless; and are always insufficient for the purpose of communicatingour thoughts. "[68] Even if we class them, as Mr. Tooke himselfdoes, [69] amongst "involuntary convulsions with oral sound, " such asgroaning, shrieking, &c. Yet they may suggest ideas, as well asexpress animal feelings. Sighing, according to Mr. Tooke, is in theclass of interjections, yet the poet acknowledges the superioreloquence of sighs: "Persuasive words, and _more persuasive_ sighs. " "'I wish, ' said Uncle Toby, with a deep sigh (after hearing the storyof Le Fevre) 'I wish, Trim, I was asleep. '" The sigh here adds greatforce to the wish, and it does not mark that Uncle Toby, fromvehemence of passion, had returned to the brutal state of a savage whohas not learnt the use of speech; but, on the contrary, it suggests tothe reader, that Uncle Toby was a man of civilized humanity; not onewhose compassion was to be excited merely as an animal feeling by theactual _sight_ of a fellow-creature in pain, but rather by thedescription of the sufferer's situation. In painting, as well as in writing, the language of suggestion affectsthe mind, and if any of our pupils should wish to excel in this art, they must early attend to this principle. The picture of Agamemnonhiding his face at the sacrifice of his daughter, expresses little tothe eye, but much to the imagination. The usual signs of grief and joymake but slight impression; to laugh and to weep are such commonexpressions of delight or anguish, that they cannot be mistaken, evenby the illiterate; but the imagination must be cultivated to enlargethe sphere of sympathy, and to render a more refined languageintelligible. It is said that a Milanese artist painted two peasants, and two country-girls, who laughed so heartily, that _no one_ couldlook at them without laughing. [70] This is an instance of sympathyunconnected with imagination. The following is an instance of sympathyexcited by imagination. When Porcia was to part from Brutus, justbefore the breaking out of the civil war, "she endeavoured, " saysPlutarch, "as well as possible, to conceal the sorrow that oppressedher; but, notwithstanding her magnanimity, a picture betrayed herdistress. The subject was the parting of Hector and Andromache. He wasrepresented delivering his son Astyanax into her arms, and the eyes ofAndromache were fixed upon him. The resemblance that this picture boreto her own distress, made _Porcia_ burst into tears the moment shebeheld it. " If Porcia had never read Homer, Andromache would not havehad this power over her imagination and her sympathy. The imagination not only heightens the power of sympathy with theemotions of all the passions which a painter would excite, but it islikewise essential to our taste for another class of pleasures. Artists, who like Hogarth would please by humour, wit, and ridicule, must depend upon the imagination of the spectators to supply all theintermediate ideas which they would suggest. The cobweb over the poorbox, one of the happiest strokes of satire that Hogarth ever invented, would probably say nothing to the inattentive eye, or the dullimagination. A young person must acquire the language, before he canunderstand the ideas, of superior minds. The taste for poetry must be prepared by the culture of theimagination. The united powers of music and poetry could not havetriumphed over Alexander, unless his imagination had assisted "themighty master. " "With downcast looks the joyless victor sat, Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below; And now and then a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. " The sigh and the tears were the consequences of Alexander's ownthoughts, which were only recalled by kindred sounds. We are wellaware, that savage nations, or those that are imperfectly civilized, are subject to enthusiasm; but we are inclined to think, that thebarbarous clamour with which they proclaim their delight in music andpoetry, may deceive us as to the degree in which it is felt: thesensations of cultivated minds may be more exquisite, though they arefelt in silence. It has been supposed, that ignorance is extremelysusceptible of the pleasures of wonder: but wonder and admiration aredifferent feelings: the admiration which a cultivated mind feels forexcellence, of which it can fully judge, is surely a higher species ofpleasure, than the brute wonder expressed by "a foolish face ofpraise. " Madame Roland tells us, that once, at a sermon preached by acelebrated Frenchman, she was struck with the earnest attentionpainted in the countenance of a young woman who was looking up at thepreacher. At length the fair enthusiast exclaimed, "My God, how heperspires!" A different sort of admiration was felt by Cæsar, when thescroll dropped from his hand whilst he listened to an oration ofCicero's. There are an infinite variety of associations, by which the orator haspower to rouse the imagination of a person of cultivatedunderstanding; there are comparatively few, by which he can amuse thefancy of illiterate auditors. It is not that they have lessimagination than others; they have equally the power of raising vividimages; but there are few images which can be recalled to them: thecombinations of their ideas are confined to a small number, and wordshave no poetic or literary associations in their minds: even amongstchildren, this difference between the power we have over thecultivated and uncultivated mind, early appears. A laurel leaf is tothe eye of an illiterate boy nothing more than a shrub with a shining, pale-green, pointed leaf: recall the idea of that shrub by the mostexact description, it will affect him with no peculiar pleasure: butassociate early in a boy's mind the ideas of glory, of poetry, ofolympic crowns, of Daphne and Apollo; by some of these latentassociations the orator may afterwards raise his enthusiasm. We shallnot here repeat what has been said[71] upon the choice of literaturefor young people, but shall once more warn parents to let their pupilsread only the best authors, if they wish them to have a fineimagination, or a delicate taste. When their minds are awake and warm, show them excellence; let them hear oratory only when they can feelit; if the impression be vivid, no matter how transient the touch. Ideas which have once struck the imagination, can be recalled by themagic of a word, with all their original, all their associated force. Do not fatigue the eye and ear of your vivacious pupil with themonotonous sounds and confused images of vulgar poetry. Do not makehim repeat the finest passages of Shakespeare and Milton; the effectis lost by repetition; the words, the ideas are profaned. Let yourpupils hear eloquence from eloquent lips, and they will own its power. But let a drawling, unimpassioned reader, read a play ofShakespeare's, or an oration of Demosthenes, and if your pupil is notout of patience, he will never taste the charms of eloquence. If hefeels a fine sentiment, or a sublime idea, pause, leave his mind full, leave his imagination elevated. Five minutes afterwards, perhaps, yourpupil's attention is turned to something else, and the sublime ideaseems to be forgotten: but do not fear; the idea is not obliterated;it is latent in his memory; it will appear at a proper time, perhaps amonth, perhaps twenty years afterwards. Ideas may remain long useless, and almost forgotten in the mind, and may be called forth by somecorresponding association from their torpid state. Young people, who wish to make themselves orators or eloquent writers, should acquire the habit of attending first to the general impressionmade upon their own minds by oratory, and afterwards to the causewhich produced the effect; hence they will obtain command over theminds of others, by using the knowledge they have acquired of theirown. The habit of considering every new idea, or new fact, as asubject for allusion, may also be useful to the young orator. A changefrom time to time in the nature of his studies, will enlarge andinvigorate his imagination. Gibbon says, that, after the publicationof his first volume of the Roman history, he gave himself a shortholyday. "I indulged my curiosity in some studies of a very differentnature: a course of anatomy, which was demonstrated by Dr. Hunter, andsome lessons of chemistry, which were delivered by Dr. Higgins. Theprinciples of these sciences, and a taste for books of naturalhistory, contributed to multiply my ideas and images; and theanatomist and chemist may sometimes track me in their own snow. " Different degrees of enthusiasm are requisite in differentprofessions; but we are inclined to think, that the imagination mightwith advantage be cultivated to a much higher degree than is commonlyallowed in young men intended for public advocates. We have seenseveral examples of the advantage of a general taste for the belleslettres in eminent lawyers;[72] and we have lately seen an ingenioustreatise called Deinology, or instructions for a Young Barrister, which confirms our opinion upon this subject. An orator, by thejudicious preparation of the minds of his audience, may increase theeffect of his best arguments. A Grecian painter, [73] before he wouldproduce a picture which he had finished, representing a martialenterprise, ordered martial music to be played, to raise theenthusiasm of the assembled spectators; when their imagination wassufficiently elevated, he uncovered the picture, and it was beheldwith sympathetic transports of applause. It is usually thought, that persons of extraordinary imagination aredeficient in judgment: by proper education, this evil might beprevented. We may observe that persons, who have acquired particularfacility in certain exercises of the imagination, can, by voluntaryexertion, either excite or suppress certain trains of ideas on whichtheir enthusiasm depends. An actor, who storms and raves whilst he isupon the stage, appears with a mild and peaceable demeanor a momentafterwards behind the scenes. A poet, in his inspired moments, repeatshis own verses in his garret with all the emphasis and fervour ofenthusiasm; but when he comes down to dine with a mixed convivialcompany, his poetic fury subsides, a new train of ideas takes place inhis imagination. As long as he has sufficient command over himself tolay aside his enthusiasm in company, he is considered as a reasonable, sensible man, and the more imagination he displays in his poems, thebetter. The same exercise of fancy, which we admire in one case, weridicule in another. The enthusiasm which characterizes the man ofgenius, borders upon insanity. When Voltaire was teaching mademoiselle Clairon, the celebratedactress, to perform an impassioned part in one of his tragedies, sheobjected to the violence of his enthusiasm. "Mais, monsieur, on meprendroit pour une possedée!"[74] "Eh, mademoiselle, " replied thephilosophic bard, "il faut être un possedé pour réussir en aucun art. " The degree of enthusiasm, which makes the painter and poet set, whatto more idle, or more busy mortals, appears an imaginary value upontheir respective arts, supports the artist under the pressure ofdisappointment and neglect, stimulates his exertions, and renders himalmost insensible to labour and fatigue. Military heroes, or those whoare "_insane with ambition_, "[75] endure all the real miseries oflife, and brave the terrors of death, under the invigorating influenceof an extravagant imagination. Cure them of their enthusiasm, and theyare no longer heroes. We must, therefore, decide in education, whatspecies of characters we would produce, before we can determine whatdegree, or what habits of imagination, are desirable. "Je suis le Dieu de la danse!"[76] exclaimed Vestris; and probablyAlexander the Great did not feel more pride in his Apotheosis. Had anycynical philosopher undertaken to cure Vestris of his vanity, it wouldnot have been a charitable action. Vestris might, perhaps, by force ofreasoning, have been brought to acknowledge that a dancing-master wasnot a divinity, but this conviction would not have increased hisfelicity; on the contrary, he would have become wretched in proportionas he became rational. The felicity of enthusiasts depends upon theirbeing absolutely incapable of reasoning, or of listening to reasonupon certain subjects; provided they are resolute in repeating theirown train of thoughts without comparing them with that of others, theymay defy the malice of wisdom, and in happy ignorance may enjoyperpetual delirium. Parents, who value the happiness of their children, will considerexactly what chance there is of their enjoying unmolested any partialenthusiasm; they will consider, that by early excitations, it is veryeasy to raise any species of ambition in the minds of their pupils. The various species of enthusiasm necessary to make a poet, a painter, an orator, or a military hero, may be inspired, without doubt, byeducation. How far these are connected with happiness, is anotherquestion. Whatever be the object which he pursues, we must, as much aspossible, ensure our pupil's success. Those who have been excited toexertion by enthusiasm, if they do not obtain the reward or admirationwhich they had been taught to expect, sink into helpless despondency. Whether their object has been great or small, if it has been theirfavourite object, and they fail of its attainment, their mortificationand subsequent languor are unavoidable. The wisest of monarchsexclaimed, that all was vanity and vexation of spirit; he did not, perhaps, feel more weary of the world than the poor juggler felt, who, after educating his hands to the astonishing dexterity of throwing upinto the air, and catching as they fell, six eggs successively, without breaking them, received from the emperor, before whom heperformed, six eggs to reward the labour of his life! This poor man's ambition appears obviously absurd; and we are under noimmediate apprehension, that parents should inspire their childrenwith the enthusiasm necessary to the profession of a juggler: but, unless some precautions are taken, the objects which excite theambition of numbers, may be placed so as to deceive the eye andimagination of children; and they may labour through life in pursuitof phantoms. If children early hear their parents express violentadmiration for riches, rank, power, or fame, they catch a species ofenthusiasm for these things, before they can estimate justly theirvalue; from the countenance and manner, they draw very importantconclusions. "Felicity is painted on your countenance, " is a politephrase of salutation in China. The taste for looking happy, is notconfined to the Chinese: the rich and great, [77] by every artifice ofluxury, endeavour to impress the spectator with the idea of theirsuperior felicity. From experience we know, that the external signs ofdelight are not always sincere, and that the apparatus of luxury isnot necessary to happiness. Children who live with persons of goodsense, learn to separate the ideas of happiness and a coach and six;but young people who see their fathers, mothers, and preceptors, allsmitten with sudden admiration at the sight of a fine phaeton, or afine gentleman, are immediately infected with the same absurdenthusiasm. These parents do not suspect, that they are pervertingthe imagination of their children, when they call them with foolisheagerness to the windows to look at a fine equipage, a splendidcavalcade, or a military procession; they perhaps summon a boy, who isintended for a merchant, or a lawyer, to hear "the spirit stirringdrum;" and they are afterwards surprised, if he says, when he isfifteen or sixteen, that, "_if his father pleases_, he had rather gointo the army, than go to the bar. " The mother is alarmed, perhaps, about the same time, by an unaccountable predilection in herdaughter's fancy for a red coat, and totally forgets having called thechild to the window to look at the smart cockades, and to hear thetune of "See the conquering hero comes. " "Hear you me, Jessica, " says Shylock to his daughter, "lock up mydoors; and when you hear the drum, and the vile squeaking of thewry-necked fife, clamber not you up into the casements then. " Shylock's exhortations were vain; Jessica had arrived at years ofdiscretion, and it was too late to forbid her clambering into thecasements; the precautions should have been taken sooner; the epithetsvile squeaking and wry-necked fife, could not alter the lady's taste:and Shylock should have known how peremptory prohibitions andexaggerated expressions of aversion operate upon the femaleimagination; he was imprudent in the extreme of his caution. We shouldlet children see things as they really are, and we should notprejudice them either by our exclamations of rapture, or by ouraffected disgust. If they are familiarized with show, they will not becaught by it; if they see the whole of whatever is to be seen, theirimagination will not paint things more delightful than they reallyare. For these reasons, we think that young people should not berestrained, though they may be guided in their tastes; we shouldsupply them with all the information in which they are deficient, andleave them to form their own judgments. Without making it a matter of favour, or of extraordinaryconsequence, parents can take their children to see publicexhibitions, or to partake of any amusements which are reallyagreeable; they can, at the same time, avoid mixing factitious withreal pleasure. If, for instance, we have an opportunity of taking aboy to a good play, or a girl to a ball, let them enjoy the fullpleasure of the amusement, but do not let us excite their imaginationby great preparations, or by anticipating remarks: "Oh, you'll be veryhappy to-morrow, for you're to go to the play. You must look wellto-night, for you are going to the ball. Were you never at a ball? Didyou never see a play before? Oh, _then_ you'll be delighted, I'msure!" The children often look much more sensible, and sometimes morecomposed, in the midst of these foolish exclamations, than theirparents. "Est ce que je m'amuse, maman?" said a little girl of sixyears old, the first time she was taken to the playhouse. Besides the influence of opinion, there are a number of othercircumstances to be considered in cultivating the imagination; thereare many other circumstances which must be attended to, and differentprecautions are necessary, to regulate properly the imagination ofchildren of different dispositions, or temperaments. The dispositionto associate ideas, varies in strength and quickness in oppositetemperaments: the natural vivacity or dulness of the senses, the habitof observing external objects, the power of voluntary exertion, andthe propensity to reverie, must all be considered before we can adapta plan of education exactly to the pupil's advantage. A wise preceptorwill counteract, as much as possible, all those defects to which achild may appear most liable, and will cultivate his imagination so asto prevent the errours to which he is most exposed by natural, or whatwe call natural, disposition. Some children appear to feel sensations of pleasure or pain with moreenergy than others; they take more delight in feeling than inreflection; they have neither much leisure nor much inclination forthe intellectual exertions of comparison or deliberation. Great careshould be taken to encourage children of this temper to describe andto compare their sensations. By their descriptions we shall judge whatmotives we ought to employ to govern them, and if we can teach them tocompare their feelings, we shall induce that voluntary exertion ofmind in which they are naturally defective. We cannot compare or judgeof our sensations without voluntary exertion. When we deliberate, werepeat our ideas deliberately; and this is an exercise peculiarlyuseful to those who feel quickly. When any pleasure makes too great an impression upon these children ofvivid sensations, we should repeat the pleasure frequently, till itbegins to fatigue; or we should contrast it, and bring it into directcomparison with some other species of pleasure. For instance, supposea boy had appeared highly delighted with seeing a game at cards, andthat we were apprehensive he might, from this early association, acquire a taste for gaming, we might either repeat the amusement tillthe playing at cards began to weary the boy, or we might take himimmediately after playing at cards to an interesting comedy; probably, the amusement he would receive at the playhouse, would be greater thanthat which he had enjoyed at the card-table; and as these two speciesof pleasure would immediately succeed to each other, the child couldscarcely avoid comparing them. Is it necessary to repeat, that allthis should be done without any artifice? The child should know themeaning of our conduct, and then he will never set himself inopposition to our management. If it is not convenient, or possible, to dull the charm of novelty byrepetition, or to contrast a new pleasure with some other superioramusement, there is another expedient which may be useful; we may callthe power of association to our assistance: this power is sometimes afull match for the most lively sensations. For instance, suppose a boyof strong feelings had been offended by some trifle, and expressedsensations of hatred against the offender obviously too violent forthe occasion; to bring the angry boy's imagination to a temperatestate, we might recall some circumstance of his former affection forthe offender; or the general idea, that it is amiable and noble tocommand our passion, and to forgive those who have injured us. At thesight of his mother, with whom he had many agreeable associations, theimagination of Coriolanus raised up instantly a train of ideasconnected with the love of his family, and of his country, andimmediately the violence of his sensations of anger were subdued. Brutus, after his friend Cassius has apologized to him for his "rashhumour, " by saying, "that it was hereditary from his mother, " promisesthat the next time Cassius is over-earnest with "his Brutus, he willthink his mother chides, and leave him so;" that is to say, Brutuspromises to recollect an association of ideas, which shall enable himto bear with his friend's ill humour. Children, who associate ideas very strongly and with rapidity, [78]must be educated with continual attention. With children of thisclass, the slightest circumstances are of consequence; they may atfirst appear to be easily managed, because they will rememberpertinaciously any reproof, any reward or punishment; and, fromassociation, they will scrupulously avoid or follow what has, in anyone instance, been joined with pain or pleasure in their imagination:but unfortunately, accidental events will influence them, as well asthe rewards and punishments of their preceptors; and a variety ofassociations will be formed, which may secretly govern them longbefore their existence is suspected. We shall be surprised to find, that even where there is apparently no hope, or fear, or passion, todisturb their judgment, they cannot reason, or understand reasoning. On studying them more closely, we shall discover the cause of thisseeming imbecility. A multitude of associated ideas occur to themupon whatever subject we attempt to reason, which distract theirattention, and make them change the terms of every proposition withincessant variety. Their pleasures are chiefly secondary reflectedpleasures, and they do not judge by their actual sensations so much asby their associations. They like and dislike without being able toassign any sufficient cause for their preference or aversion. Theymake a choice frequently without appearing to deliberate; and if you, by persuading them to a more detailed examination of the objects, convince them, that according to the common standard of good and evil, they have made a foolish choice, they will still seem puzzled anduncertain; and, if you leave them at liberty, will persist in theiroriginal determination. By this criterion we may decide, that they areinfluenced by some secret false association of ideas; and, instead ofarguing with them upon the obvious folly of their present choice, weshould endeavour to make them trace back their ideas, and discover theassociation by which they are governed. In some cases this may be outof their power, because the original association may have been totallyforgotten, and yet those connected with it may continue to act: buteven when we cannot succeed in any particular instance in detectingthe cause of the errour, we shall do the pupils material service byexciting them to observe their own minds. A tutor, who carefullyremarks the circumstances in which a child expresses uncommon grief orjoy, hope or fear, may obtain complete knowledge of his associations, and may accurately distinguish the proximate and remote causes of allhis pupil's desires and aversions. He will then have absolute commandover the child's mind, and he should upon no account trust his pupilto the direction of any other person. Another tutor, though perhaps ofequal ability, could not be equally secure of success; the child wouldprobably be suspected of cunning, caprice, or obstinacy, because thecauses of his tastes and judgments could not be discovered by his newpreceptor. It often happens, that those who feel pleasure and pain most strongly, are likewise most disposed to form strong associations of ideas. [79]Children of this character are never stupid, but often prejudiced andpassionate: they can readily assign a reason for their preference oraversion; they recollect distinctly the original sensations ofpleasure or pain, on which their associations depend; they do not, like Mr. Transfer in Zelucco, like or dislike persons and things, because they have _been used to them_, but because they have receivedsome injury or benefit from them. Such children are apt to make greatmistakes in reasoning, from their registering of coincidences hastily;they do not wait to repeat their experiments, but if they have in oneinstance observed two things to happen at the same time, they expectthat they will always recur together. If one event precedes or followsanother accidentally, they believe it to be the cause or effectof its concomitant, and this belief is not to be shaken in theirminds by ridicule or argument. They are, consequently, inclinedboth to superstition and enthusiasm, according as their hopesand fears predominate. They are likewise subject to absurdantipathies--antipathies which verge towards insanity. Dr. Darwin relates a strong instance of antipathy in a child fromassociation. The child, on tasting the gristle of sturgeon, asked whatgristle was? and was answered, that gristle was like the division of aman's nose. The child, disgusted at this idea, for twenty yearsafterwards could never be persuaded to taste sturgeon. [80] Zimmermann assures us, that he was an eye-witness of a singularantipathy, which we may be permitted to describe in his own words: "Happening to be in company with some English gentlemen, all of themmen of distinction, the conversation fell upon antipathies. Many ofthe company denied their reality, and considered them as idle stories, but I assured them that they were truly a disease. Mr. WilliamMatthews, son to the governor of Barbadoes, was of my opinion, becausehe himself had an antipathy to spiders. The rest of the companylaughed at him. I undertook to prove to them that this antipathy _wasreally an impression on his soul, resulting from the determination ofa mechanical effect_. (We do not pretend to know what Dr. Zimmermannmeans by this. ) Lord John Murray undertook to shape some black waxinto the appearance of a spider, with a view to observe whether theantipathy would take place at the simple figure of the insect. He thenwithdrew for a moment, and came in again with the wax in his hand, which he kept shut. Mr. Matthews, who in other respects was a veryamiable and moderate man, immediately conceiving that his friendreally had a spider in his hand, clapped his hand to his sword withextreme fury, and running back towards the partition, cried out mosthorribly. All the muscles of his face were swelled, his eyes wererolling in their sockets, and his body was immoveable. We were allexceedingly alarmed, and immediately ran to his assistance, took hissword from him, and assured him that what he conceived to be a spider, was nothing more than a bit of wax, which he might see upon the table. "He remained some time in this spasmodic state; but at length he beganto recover, and to deplore the horrible passion from which he stillsuffered. His pulse was very strong and quick, and his whole body wascovered with a cold perspiration. After taking an anodyne draft, heresumed his usual tranquillity. "We are not to wonder at this antipathy, " continues Zimmermann; "thespiders at Barbadoes are very large, and of an hideous figure. Mr. Matthews was born there, and his antipathy was therefore to beaccounted for. Some of the company undertook to make a little waxenspider in his presence. He saw this done with great tranquillity, buthe could not be persuaded to touch it, though he was by no means atimorous man in other respects. Nor would he follow my advice toendeavour to conquer this antipathy by first drawing parts of spidersof different sorts, and after a time whole spiders, till at length hemight be able to look at portions of real spiders, and thus graduallyaccustom himself to whole ones, at first dead, and then livingones. "[81] Dr. Zimmermann's method of cure, appears rather more ingenious, thanhis way of accounting for the disease. Are all the natives ofBarbadoes subject to convulsions at the sight of the large spiders inthat island? or why does Mr. William Matthews' having been born thereaccount so satisfactorily for his antipathy? The cure of these unreasonable fears of harmless animals, like allother antipathies, would, perhaps, be easily effected, if it werejudiciously attempted early in life. The epithets which we use inspeaking of animals, and our expressions of countenance, have greatinfluence on the minds of children. If we, as Dr. Darwin advises, callthe spider _the ingenious spider_, and the frog _the harmless frog_, and if we look at them with complacency, instead of aversion, children, from sympathy, will imitate our manner, and from curiositywill attend to the animals, to discover whether the commendatoryepithets we bestow upon them, are just. It is comparatively of little consequence to conquer antipathies whichhave trifling objects. An individual can go through life very wellwithout eating sturgeon, or touching spiders; but when we consider theinfluence of the same disposition to associate false ideas toostrongly in more important instances, we shall perceive the necessityof correcting it by education. Locke tells us of a young man, who, having been accustomed to see anold trunk in the room with him when he learned to dance, associatedhis dancing exertions so strongly with the sight of this trunk, thathe could not succeed by any voluntary efforts in its absence. We have, in our remarks upon attention, [82] pointed out the greatinconveniences to which those are exposed who acquire associatedhabits of intellectual exertion; who cannot speak, or write, or think, without certain habitual aids to their memory or imagination. We mustfurther observe, that incessant vigilance is necessary in the moraleducation of children disposed to form strong associations; they areliable to sudden and absurd dislikes or predilections, with respect topersons, as well as things; they are subject to caprice in theiraffections and temper, and liable to a variety of mental infirmities, which, in different degrees, we call passion or madness. Locke tellsus, that he knew a man who, after having been restored to health by apainful operation, had so strongly associated the idea and figure ofthe operator with the agony he had endured, that though heacknowledged the obligation, and felt gratitude towards this friendwho had saved him, he never afterwards could bear to see hisbenefactor. There are some people who associate so readily andincorrigibly the idea of any pain or insult they have received fromanother, with his person and character, that they can never afterwardsforget or forgive. They are hence disposed to all the intemperance ofhatred and revenge; to the chronic malice of a Jago, or the acutepangs of an Achilles. Homer, in his speech of Achilles to Agamemnon'smediating ambassadors, has drawn a strong and natural picture of theprogress of anger. It is worth studying as a lesson in metaphysics. Whenever association suggests to the mind of Achilles the injury hehas received, he loses his reason, and the orator works himself upfrom argument to declamation, and from declamation to desperateresolution, through a close linked connection of ideas andsensations. The insanities of ambition, avarice, and vanity, originate in earlymistaken associations. A feather, or a crown, or an alderman's chain, or a cardinal's hat, or a purse of yellow counters, are unluckilyassociated in the minds of some men with the idea of happiness, and, without staying to deliberate, these unfortunate persons hunt throughlife the phantasms of a disordered imagination. Whilst we pity, we areamused by the blindness and blunders of those whose mistakes canaffect no one's felicity but their own; but any delusions which prompttheir victims to actions inimical to their fellow-creatures, are theobjects not unusually of pity, but of indignation, of private aversionand public punishment. We smile at the avaricious insanity of themiser, who dresses himself in the cast-off Wig of a beggar, and pullsa crushed pancake from his pocket for his own and for his friend'sdinner. [83] We smile at the insane vanity of the pauper, who dressedhimself in a many-coloured paper star, assumed the title of Duke ofBaubleshire, and as such required homage from every passenger. [84] Butare we inclined to smile at the outrageous vanity of the man whostyled himself the son of Jupiter, and who murdered his best friendfor refusing him divine honours? Are we disposed to pity theslave-merchant, who, urged by the maniacal desire for gold, hearsunmoved the groans of his fellow-creatures, the execrations ofmankind, and that "small still voice, " which haunts those who arestained with blood. The moral insanities which strike us with horror, compassion, orridicule, however they may differ in their effects, have frequentlyone common origin; an early false association of ideas. Persons whomistake in measuring their own feelings, or who neglect to comparetheir ideas, and to balance contending wishes, scarcely merit thename of _rational_ creatures. The man, who does not deliberate, islost. We have endeavoured, though well aware of the difficulty of thesubject, to point out some of the precautions that should be used ingoverning the imagination of young people of different dispositions. We should add, that in all cases the pupils attention to his own mindwill be of more consequence, than the utmost vigilance of the mostable preceptor; the sooner he is made acquainted with his owncharacter, and the sooner he can be excited to govern himself byreason, or to attempt the cure of his own defects, the better. There is one habit of the imagination, to which we have not yetadverted, the habit of reverie. In reverie we are so intent upon aparticular train of ideas, that we are unconscious of all externalobjects, and we exert but little voluntary power. It is true that somepersons in castle-building both reason and invent, and therefore mustexert some degree of volition; even in the wildest reverie, there maybe traced some species of consistency, some connection amongst theideas; but this is simply the result of the association of ideas. Inventive castle-builders are rather nearer the state of insanity thanof reverie; they reason well upon false principles; their airy fabricsare often both in good taste and in good proportion; nothing iswanting to them but a foundation. On the contrary, nothing can be moresilly than the reveries of silly people; they are not only defectivein consistency, but they want all the unities; they are notextravagant, but they are stupid; they consist usually of a listlessreiteration of uninteresting ideas; the whole pleasure enjoyed bythose addicted to them consists in the facility of repetition. It is a mistaken notion, that only people of ardent imaginations aredisposed to reverie; the most indolent and stupid persons waste theirexistence in this indulgence; they do not act always in consequence oftheir dreams, therefore we do not detect their folly. Young people ofactive minds, when they have not sufficient occupation, necessarilyindulge in reverie; and, by degrees, this wild exercise of theirinvention and imagination becomes so delightful to them, that theyprefer it to all sober employments. Mr. Williams, in his Lectures upon Education, gives an account of aboy singularly addicted to reverie. The desire of invisibility hadseized his mind, and for several years he had indulged his fancy withimagining all the pleasures that he should command, and all the featsthat he could perform, if he were in possession of Gyges's ring. Thereader should, however, be informed, that this castle-builder was nota youth of strict veracity; his confession upon this occasion, as uponothers, might not have been sincere. We only state the story from Mr. Williams. To prevent children from acquiring a taste for reverie, let them havevarious occupations both of mind and body. Let us not direct theirimagination to extraordinary future pleasures, but let us suffer themto enjoy the present. Anticipation is a species of reverie; andchildren, who have promises of future pleasures frequently made tothem, live in a continual state of anticipation. To cure the habit of reverie when it has once been formed, we musttake different methods with different tempers. With those who indulgein the _stupid reverie_, we should employ strong excitations, andpresent to the senses a rapid succession of objects, which willcompletely engage without fatiguing them. This mode must not befollowed with children of different dispositions, else we shouldincrease, instead of curing, the disease. The most likely method tobreak this habit in children of great quickness or sensibility, is toset them to some employment which is wholly new to them, and whichwill consequently exercise and exhaust all their faculties, so thatthey shall have no life left for castle-building. Monotonousoccupations, such as copying, drawing, or writing, playing on theharpsichord, &c. Are not, _if habit has made them easy_ to the pupil, fit for our purpose. We may all perceive, that in such occupations, the powers of the mind are left unexercised. We can frequently readaloud with tolerable emphasis for a considerable time together, and atthe same time think upon some subject foreign to the book we hold inour hands. The most difficult exercises of the mind, such as invention, or strictreasoning, are those alone which are sufficient to subjugate and chaindown the imagination of some active spirits. To such laboriousexercises they should be excited by the encouraging voice of praiseand affection. Imaginative children will be more disposed to inventthan to reason, but they cannot perfect any invention withoutreasoning; there will, therefore, be a mixture of what they like anddislike in the exercise of invention, and the habit of reasoning will, perhaps, gradually become agreeable to them, if it be thus dexterouslyunited with the pleasures of the imagination. So much has already been written by various authors upon the pleasuresand the dangers of imagination, that we could scarcely hope to add anything new to what they have produced: but we have endeavoured toarrange the observations which appeared most applicable to practicaleducation; we have pointed out how the principles of taste may beearly taught without injury to the general understanding, and how theimagination should be prepared for the higher pleasures of eloquenceand poetry. We have attempted to define the boundaries between theenthusiasm of genius, and its extravagance; and to show some of theprecautions which may be used, to prevent the moral defects to whichpersons of ardent imagination are usually subject. The degree in whichthe imagination should be cultivated must, we have observed, bedetermined by the views which parents may have for their children, bytheir situations in society, and by the professions for which they aredestined. Under the government of a sober judgment, the powers of theimagination must be advantageous in every situation; but their valueto society, and to the individuals by whom they are possessed, dependsultimately upon the manner in which they are managed. A magician, under the control of a philosopher, would perform not only great, butuseful, wonders. The homely proverb, which has been applied to fire, may with equal truth be applied to imagination: "It is a good servant, but a bad master. " FOOTNOTES: [58] Priestley has ably given the desiderata of electricity, vision, &c. [59] Wharton's Ode to Fancy. [60] Gerard. [61] Lord Kames. [62] Professor Stewart. [63] V. An excellent essay of Mr. Barnes's on Imagination. ManchesterSociety, vol. I. [64] It is to be hoped that the foreign philosophers, who, it is said, are now employed in drawing up a new metaphysical nomenclature, willavail themselves of the extensive knowledge, and original genius ofthe author of Zoonomia. [65] Akenside. [66] "Know there are words and spells which can control, Between the fits, the fever of the soul. " Pope. [67] Peter of Cortona. [68] V. Epea Pteroenta, p. 88. [69] Chapter on Grammar. [70] V. Camper's Works, p. 126. [71] V. Chapter on Books. [72] Lord Mansfield, Hussey Burgh, &c. [73] Theon. [74] "But, Sir, I shall be taken for one possessed!" "Well, Ma'am, you must be _like one possessed_, if you would succeedin any art. " [75] Dr. Darwin. [76] "I am the god of dancing!" [77] V. Smith's Moral Theory. [78] Temperament of increased association. Zoonomia. [79] V. Zoonomia. Temperament of increased sensibility and associationjoined. [80] Zoonomia, vol. Ii. [81] Monthly Review of Zimmermann on Experience in Physic. March 1783, p. 211. [82] V. Chapter on Attention. [83] Elwes. See his Life. [84] There is an account of this poor man's death in the Star, 1796. CHAPTER XXIII. ON WIT AND JUDGMENT. It has been shown, that the powers of memory, invention andimagination, ought to be rendered subservient to judgment: it has beenshown, that reasoning and judgment abridge the labours of memory, andare necessary to regulate the highest flights of imagination. We shallconsider the power of reasoning in another point of view, as beingessential to our conduct in life. The object of reasoning is to adaptmeans to an end, to attain the command of effects by the discovery ofthe causes on which they depend. Until children have acquired some knowledge of effects, they cannotinquire into causes. Observation must precede reasoning; and asjudgment is nothing more than the perception of the result ofcomparison, we should never urge our pupils to judge, until they haveacquired some portion of experience. To teach children to compare objects exactly, we should place thethings to be examined distinctly before them. Every thing that issuperfluous, should be taken away, and a sufficient motive should begiven to excite the pupil's attention. We need not here repeat theadvice that has formerly been given[85] respecting the choice ofproper motives to excite and fix attention; or the precautionsnecessary to prevent the pain of fatigue, and of unsuccessfulapplication. If comparison be early rendered a task to children, theywill dislike and avoid this exercise of the mind, and they willconsequently show an inaptitude to reason: if comparing objects bemade interesting and amusing to our pupils, they will soon becomeexpert in discovering resemblances and differences; and thus they willbe prepared for reasoning. Rousseau has judiciously advised, that _the senses_ of children shouldbe cultivated with the utmost care. In proportion to the distinctnessof their perceptions, will be the accuracy of their memory, and, probably, also the precision of their judgment. A child, who seesimperfectly, cannot reason justly about the objects of sight, becausehe has not sufficient data. A child, who does not hear distinctly, cannot judge well of sounds; and, if we could suppose the sense oftouch to be twice as accurate in one child as in another, we mightconclude, that the judgment of these children must differ in a similarproportion. The defects in organization are not within the power ofthe preceptor; but we may observe, that inattention, and want ofexercise, are frequently the causes of what appear to be naturaldefects; and, on the contrary, increased attention and cultivationsometimes produce that quickness of eye and ear, and that consequentreadiness of judgment, which we are apt to attribute to naturalsuperiority of organization or capacity. Even amongst children, we mayearly observe a considerable difference between the quickness of theirsenses and of their reasoning upon subjects where they have hadexperience, and upon those on which they have not been exercised. The first exercises for the judgment of children should, as Rousseaurecommends, relate to visible and tangible substances. Let themcompare the size and shape of different objects; let them frequentlytry what they can lift; what they can reach; at what distance they cansee objects; at what distance they can hear sounds: by these exercisesthey will learn to judge of distances and weight; and they may learnto judge of the solid contents of bodies of different shapes, bycomparing the observations of their sense of feeling and of sight. Themeasure of hollow bodies can be easily taken by pouring liquids intothem, and then comparing the quantities of the liquids that fillvessels of different shapes. This is a very simple method ofexercising the judgment of children; and, if they are allowed to trythese little experiments for themselves, the amusement will fix thefacts in their memory, and will associate pleasure with the habits ofcomparison. Rousseau rewards Emilius with cakes when he judgesrightly; success, we think, is a better reward. Rousseau was himselfchildishly fond of cakes and cream. The step which immediately follows comparison, is deduction. The catis larger than the kitten; then a hole through which the cat can go, must be larger than a hole through which the kitten can go. Longbefore a child can put this reasoning into words, he is capable offorming the conclusion, and we need not be in haste to make himannounce it in mode and figure. We may see by the various methodswhich young children employ to reach what is above them, to drag, topush, to lift different bodies, that they reason; that is to say, thatthey adapt means to an end, before they can explain their own designsin words. Look at a child building a house of cards; he dexterouslybalances every card as he floors the edifice; he raises story overstory, and shows us that he has some design in view, though he wouldbe utterly incapable of describing his intentions previously in words. We have formerly[86] endeavoured to show how the vocabulary of ourpupils may be gradually enlarged, exactly in proportion to their realknowledge. A great deal depends upon our attention to this proportion;if children have not a sufficient number of words to make theirthoughts intelligible, we cannot assist them to reason by ourconversation, we cannot communicate to them the result of ourexperience; they will have a great deal of useless labour in comparingobjects, because they will not be able to understand the evidence ofothers, as they do not understand their language; and at last, thereasonings which they carry on in their own minds will be confused forwant of signs to keep them distinct. On the contrary, if theirvocabulary exceed their ideas, if they are taught a variety of wordsto which they connect no accurate meaning, it is impossible that theyshould express their thoughts with precision. As this is one of themost common errours in education, we shall dwell upon it moreparticularly. We have pointed out the mischief which is done to the understanding ofchildren by the nonsensical conversation of common acquaintance. [87]"Should you like to be a king? What are you to be? Are you to be abishop, or a judge? Had you rather be a general, or an admiral, mylittle dear?" are some of the questions which every one has probablyheard proposed to children of five or six years old. Children who havenot learned by rote the expected answers to such interrogatories, stand in amazed silence upon these occasions; or else answer atrandom, having no possible means of forming any judgment upon suchsubjects. We have often thought, in listening to the conversations ofgrown up people with children, that the children reasoned infinitelybetter than their opponents. People, who are not interested in theeducation of children, do not care what arguments they use, whatabsurdities they utter in talking to them; they usually talk to themof things which are totally above their comprehension; and theyinstil errour and prejudice, without the smallest degree ofcompunction; indeed, without in the least knowing what they are about. We earnestly repeat our advice to parents, to keep their children asmuch as possible from such conversation: children will never reason, if they are allowed to hear or to talk nonsense. When we say, that children should not be suffered to talk nonsense, weshould observe, that unless they have been in the habit of hearingfoolish conversation, they very seldom talk nonsense. They may expressthemselves in a manner which we do not understand, or they may makemistakes from not accurately comprehending the words of others; but inthese cases, we should not reprove or silence them; we shouldpatiently endeavour to find out their hidden meaning. If we rebuke orridicule them, we shall intimidate them, and either lessen theirconfidence in themselves or in us. In the one case, we prevent themfrom thinking; in the other, we deter them from communicating theirthoughts; and thus we preclude ourselves from the possibility ofassisting them in reasoning. To show parents the nature of themistakes which children make from their imperfect knowledge of words, we shall give a few examples from real life. S----, at five years old, when he heard some one speak of _bay_horses, said, he supposed that the bay horses must be the best horses. Upon cross-questioning him, it appeared that he was led to thisconclusion by the analogy between the sound of the words _bay_ and_obey_. A few days previous to this, his father had told him thatspirited horses were always the most ready to obey. These erroneous analogies between the sound of words and their sense, frequently mislead children in reasoning; we should, therefore, encourage children to explain themselves fully, that we may rectifytheir errours. When S---- was between four and five years old, a lady who had takenhim upon her lap playfully, put her hands before his eyes, and (webelieve) asked if he liked to be blinded. S---- said no; and he lookedvery thoughtful. After a pause, he added, "Smellie says, that childrenlike better to be blinded than to have their legs tied. " (S---- hadread this in Smellie two or three days before. ) _Father. _ "Are you of Smellie's opinion?" _S----_ hesitated. _Father. _ "Would you rather be blinded, or have your legs tied?" _S----. _ "I would rather have my legs tied not quite tight. " _Father. _ "Do you know what is meant by _blinded_?" _S----. _ "Having their eyes put out. " _Father. _ "How do you mean?" _S----. _ "To put something into the eye to make the blood burst out;and then the blood would come all over it, and cover it, and stick toit, and hinder them from seeing--I don't know how. " It is obvious, that whilst this boy's imagination pictured to him abloody orb when he heard the word _blinded_, he was perfectly right inhis reasoning in preferring to have his legs tied; but he did notjudge of the proposition meant to be laid before him; he judged ofanother which he had formed for himself. His father explained to him, that Smellie meant blindfolded, instead of blinded; a handkerchief wasthen tied round the boy's head, so as to hinder him from seeing, andhe was made perfectly to understand the meaning of the word_blindfolded_. In such trifles as these, it may appear of little consequence torectify the verbal errours of children; but exactly the same speciesof mistake, will prevent them from reasoning accurately in matters ofconsequence. It will not cost us much more trouble to detect thesemistakes when the causes of them are yet recent; but it will give usinfinite trouble to retrace thoughts which have passed in infancy. When prejudices, or the habits of reasoning inaccurately, have beenformed, we cannot easily discover or remedy the remote trifling originof the evil. When children begin to inquire about causes, they are not able todistinguish between coincidence and causation: we formerly observedthe effect which this ignorance produces upon their temper; we mustnow observe its effect upon their understanding. A little reflectionupon our own minds, will prevent us from feeling that stupidamazement, or from expressing that insulting contempt which thenatural thoughts of children sometimes excite in persons who havefrequently less understanding than their pupils. What account can wegive of the connection between cause and effect? How is the idea, thatone thing is the cause of another, first produced in our minds? Allthat we know is, that amongst human events, those which precede, are, in some cases, supposed to produce what follow. When we have observed, in several instances, that one event constantly precedes another, webelieve, and expect, that these events will in future recur together. Before children have had experience, it is scarcely possible that theyshould distinguish between fortuitous circumstances and causation;accidental coincidences of time, and juxta-position, continually leadthem into errour. We should not accuse children of reasoning ill; weshould not imagine that they are defective in judgment, when they makemistakes from deficient experience; we should only endeavour to makethem delay to decide until they have repeated their experiments; and, at all events, we should encourage them to lay open their minds to us, that we may assist them by our superior knowledge. This spring, little W---- (three years old) was looking at a man whowas mowing the grass before the door. It had been raining, and whenthe sun shone, the vapour began to rise from the grass. "Does the manmowing _make_ the smoke rise from the grass?" said the little boy. Hewas not laughed at for this simple question. The man's mowingimmediately preceded the rising of the vapour; the child had neverobserved a man mowing before, and it was absolutely impossible that hecould tell what effects might be produced by it; he very naturallyimagined, that the event which immediately preceded the rising of thevapour, was the cause of its rise; the sun was at a distance; thescythe was near the grass. The little boy showed by the tone of hisinquiry, that he was in the philosophic state of doubt; had he beenridiculed for his question; had he been told that he talked nonsense, he would not, upon another occasion, have told us his thoughts, and hecertainly could not have improved in reasoning. The way to improve children in their judgment with respect tocausation, is to increase their knowledge, and to lead them to tryexperiments by which they may discover what circumstances areessential to the production of any given effect; and what are merelyaccessory, unimportant concomitants of the event. [88] A child who, for the first time, sees blue and red paints mixedtogether to produce purple, could not be certain that the pallet onwhich these colours were mixed, the spatula with which they weretempered, were not necessary circumstances. In many cases, the vesselsin which things are mixed are essential; therefore, a sensible childwould repeat the experiment exactly in the same manner in which he hadseen it succeed. This exactness should not be suffered to becomeindolent imitation, or superstitious adherence to particular forms. Children should be excited to add or deduct particulars in tryingexperiments, and to observe the effects of these changes. In"Chemistry, " and "Mechanics, " we have pointed out a variety ofoccupations, in which the judgment of children may be exercised uponthe immediate objects of their senses. It is natural, perhaps, that we should expect our pupils to showsurprise at those things which excite surprise in our minds; but weshould consider that almost every thing is new to children; and, therefore, there is scarcely any gradation in their astonishment. Achild of three or four years old, would be as much amused, and, probably, as much surprised, by seeing a paper kite fly, as he couldby beholding the ascent of a balloon. We should not attribute this tostupidity, or want of judgment, but simply to ignorance. A few days ago, W---- (three years old) who was learning his letters, was let sow an _o_ in the garden with mustard seed. W---- was muchpleased with the operation. When the green plants appeared aboveground, it was expected that W---- would be much surprised at seeingthe exact shape of his _o_. He was taken to look at it; but he showedno surprise, no sort of emotion. We have advised that the judgment of children should be exercised uponthe objects of their senses. It is scarcely possible that they shouldreason upon the subjects which are sometimes proposed to them: withrespect to manners and society, they have had no experience, consequently they can form no judgments. By imprudently endeavouringto turn the attention of children to conversation that is unsuited tothem, people may give the _appearance_ of early intelligence, and acertain readiness of repartee and fluency of expression; but these aretransient advantages. Smart, witty children, amuse the circle for afew hours, and are forgotten: and we may observe, that almost allchildren who are praised and admired for sprightliness and wit, reasonabsurdly, and continue ignorant. Wit and judgment depend upondifferent opposite habits of the mind. Wit searches for remoteresemblances between objects or thoughts apparently dissimilar. Judgment compares the objects placed before it, in order to find outtheir differences, rather than their resemblances. The comparisons ofjudgment may be slow: those of wit must be rapid. The same power ofattention in children, may produce either wit or judgment. Parentsmust decide in which faculty, or rather, in which of these habits ofthe mind, they wish their pupils to excel; and they must conduct theireducation accordingly. Those who are desirous to make their pupilswitty, must sacrifice some portion of their judgment to theacquisition of the talent for wit; they must allow their children totalk frequently at random. Amongst a multitude of hazardedobservations, a happy hit is now and then made: for these happy hits, children who are to be made wits should be praised; and they mustacquire sufficient courage to speak from a cursory view of things;therefore the mistakes they make from superficial examination must notbe pointed out to them; their attention must be turned to the comic, rather than to the serious side of objects; they must study thedifferent meanings and powers of words; they should hear wittyconversation, read epigrams, and comedies; and in all company theyshould be exercised before numbers in smart dialogue and repartee. When we mention the methods of educating a child to be witty, we atthe same time point out the dangers of this education; and it is butjust to warn parents against expecting inconsistent qualities fromtheir pupils. Those who steadily prefer the solid advantages ofjudgment, to the transient brilliancy of wit, should not be mortifiedwhen they see their children, perhaps, deficient at nine or ten yearsold in the showy talents for general conversation; they must bear tosee their pupils appear slow; they must bear the contrast of flippantgayety and sober simplicity; they must pursue exactly an oppositecourse to that which has been recommended for the education of wits;they must never praise their pupils for hazarding observations; theymust cautiously point out any mistakes that are made from aprecipitate survey of objects; they should not harden their pupilsagainst that feeling of shame, which arises in the mind from theperception of having uttered an absurdity; they should never encouragetheir pupils to play upon words; and their admiration of wit shouldnever be vehemently or enthusiastically expressed. We shall give a few examples to convince parents, that children, whosereasoning powers have been cultivated, are rather slow incomprehending and in admiring wit. They require to have it explained, they want to settle the exact justice and morality of the repartee, before they will admire it. (November 20th, 1796. ) To day at dinner the conversation happened toturn upon wit. Somebody mentioned the well known reply of the hackneycoachman to Pope. S----, a boy of nine years old, listenedattentively, but did not seem to understand it; his father endeavouredto explain it to him. "Pope was a little ill made man; his favouriteexclamation was, 'God mend me!' Now, when he was in a passion with thehackney coachman, he cried as usual, 'God mend me!' 'Mend _you_, sir?'said the coachman; 'it would be easier to make a new one. ' Do youunderstand this now, S----?" S---- looked dull upon it, and, after some minutes consideration, said, "Yes, Pope was ill made; the man meant it would be better tomake a new one than to mend him. " S---- did not yet seem to taste thewit; he took the answer literally, and understood it soberly. Immediately afterwards, the officer's famous reply to Pope was told toS----. About ten days after this conversation, S---- said to hissister, "I wonder, M----, that people don't oftener laugh at crookedpeople; like the officer who called Pope a note of interrogation. " _M----. _ "It would be ill natured to laugh at them. " _S----. _ "But you all praised that man for saying _that_ about Pope. You did not think him ill natured. " _Mr. ----. _ "No, because Pope had been impertinent to him. " _S----. _ "How?" _M----. _ "Don't you remember, that when the officer said that a noteof interrogation would make the passage clear, Pope turned round, andlooking at him with great contempt, asked if he knew what a note ofinterrogation was?" _S----. _ "Yes, I remember that; but I do not think that was veryimpertinent, because Pope might not know whether the man knew it ornot. " _Mr. ----. _ "Very true: but then you see, that Pope took it forgranted that the officer was extremely ignorant; a boy who is justlearning to read knows what a note of interrogation is. " _S----_ (thoughtfully. ) "Yes, it _was_ rude of Pope; but then the manwas an officer, and therefore, it was very likely that he might beignorant; you know you said that officers were often very ignorant. " _Mr. ----. _ "I said _often_; but not _always_. Young men, I told you, who are tired of books, and ambitious of a red coat, often go into thearmy to save themselves the trouble of acquiring the knowledgenecessary for other professions. A man cannot be a good lawyer, or agood physician, without having acquired a great deal of knowledge; butan officer need have little knowledge to know how to stand to be shotat. But though it may be true in general, that officers are oftenignorant, it is not necessary that they should be so; a man in a redcoat may have as much knowledge as a man in a black, or a blue one;therefore no sensible person should decide that a man is ignorantmerely because he is an officer, as Pope did. " _S----. _ "No, to be sure. I understand now. " _M----. _ "But I thought, S----, you understood this before. " _Mr. ----. _ "He is very right not to let it pass without understandingit thoroughly. You are very right, S----, not to swallow things whole;chew them well. " _S----_ looked as if he was still chewing. _M----. _ "What are you thinking of S----?" _S----. _ "Of the man's laughing at Pope for being crooked. " _Mr. ----. _ "If Pope had not said any thing rude to that man, the manwould have done very wrong to have laughed at him. If the officer hadwalked into a coffee-house, and pointing at Pope, had said, 'there's alittle crooked thing like a note of interrogation, ' people might havebeen pleased with his wit in seeing that resemblance, but they wouldhave disliked his ill nature; and those who knew Mr. Pope, wouldprobably have answered, 'Yes Sir, but that crooked little man is oneof the most witty men in England; he is the great poet, Mr. Pope. ' Butwhen Mr. Pope had insulted the officer, the case was altered. Now, ifthe officer had simply answered, when he was asked what a note ofinterrogation was, 'a little crooked thing;' and if he had looked atPope from head to foot as he spoke these words, every body's attentionwould have been turned upon Pope's figure; but then the officer wouldhave reproached him only for his personal defects: by saying, 'alittle crooked thing _that asks questions_, ' the officer reproved Popefor his impertinence. Pope had just asked him a question, and everybody perceived the double application of the answer. It was an exactdescription of a note of interrogation, and of Mr. Pope. It is thissort of partial resemblance quickly pointed out between things, whichat first appear very unlike, that surprises and pleases people, andthey call it wit. " How difficult it is to explain wit to a child! and how much moredifficult to fix its value and morality! About a month after thisconversation had passed, S---- returned to the charge: his mind hadnot been completely settled about _wit_. (January 9th, 1796. ) "So, S----, you don't yet understand wit, I see, "said M---- to him, when he looked very grave at something that wassaid to him in jest. S---- immediately asked, "What _is_ wit?" _M----_ answered (laughing) "Wit is the folly of grown up people. " _Mr. ----. _ "How can you give the boy such an answer? Come to me, mydear, and I'll try if I can give you a better. There are two kinds ofwit, one which depends upon words, and another which depends uponthoughts. I will give you an instance of wit depending upon words: "Hear yonder beggar, how he cries, I am so lame I cannot rise! If he tells truth, he lies. " "Do you understand that?" _S----. _ "No! If he tells truth, he lies! No, he can't both tell truthand tell a lie at the same time; that's impossible. " _Mr. ----. _ "Then there is something in the words which you don'tunderstand: in the _common_ sense of the words, they contradict eachother; but try if you can find out any uncommon sense--any word whichcan be understood in two senses. " _S----_ muttered the words, "If he tells truth, he lies, " and lookedindignant, but presently said, "Oh, now I understand; the beggar waslying down; he lies, means he lies down, not he tells a lie. " The perception of the double meaning of the words, did not seem toplease this boy; on the contrary, it seemed to provoke him; and heappeared to think that he had wasted his time upon the discovery. _Mr. ----. _ "Now I will give you an instance of wit that depends uponthe ideas, rather than on the words. A man of very bad character hadtold falsehoods of another, who then made these two lines; "Lie on, whilst my revenge shall be, To tell the very truth of thee. " _S----_ approved of this immediately, and heartily, and recollectedthe only epigram he knew by rote, one which he had heard inconversation two or three months before this time. It was made upon atall, stupid man, who had challenged another to make an epigramextempore upon him. Unlike to Robinson shall be my song; It shall be witty, and it shan't be long. At the time S---- first heard this epigram, he had been as slow incomprehending it as possible; but after it had been thoroughlyexplained, it pleased him, and remained fixed in his memory. Mr. ---- observed, that this epigram contained wit both in words andin ideas: and he gave S----one other example. "There were twocontractors; I mean people who make a bargain with government, or withthose who govern the country, to supply them with certain things at acertain price; there were two contractors, one of whom was employed tosupply government with corn; the other agreed to supply governmentwith rum. Now, you know, corn may be called grain, and rum may becalled spirit. Both these contractors cheated in their bargain; boththeir names were the same; and the following epigram was made on them: "Both of a name, lo! two contractors come; One cheats in corn, and t'other cheats in rum. Which is the greater, if you can, explain, A rogue in spirit, or a rogue in grain?" "_Spirit_, " continued Mr. ----, "has another sense, you know--will, intention, soul; he has the spirit of a rogue; she has the spirit ofcontradiction. And grain has also another meaning; the grain of thistable, the grain of your coat. Dyed in grain, means dyed into thesubstance of the material, so that the dye can't be washed out. Arogue in grain, means a man whose habit of cheating is fixed in hismind: and it is difficult to determine which is the worst, a man whohas the wish, or a man who has the habit, of doing wrong. At first itseems as if you were only asked which was the worst, to cheat inselling grain, or in selling spirit; but the concealed meaning, makesthe question both sense and wit. " These detailed examples, we fear, may appear tiresome; but we knewnot how, without them, to explain ourselves fully. We should add, forthe consolation of those who admire wit, and we are amongst the numberourselves, that it is much more likely that wit should be engraftedupon judgment, than that judgment should be engrafted upon wit. Theboy whom we have just mentioned, who was so slow in comprehending thenature of wit, was asked whether he could think of any answer thatPope might have made to the officer who called him a note ofinterrogation. _S----. _ "Is there any note which means _answer_?" _Mr. ----. _ "I don't know what you mean. " _S----. _ "Any note which means answer, as - - - - like the note ofinterrogation, which shows that a question is asked?" _Mr. ----. _ "No; but if there were, what then?" _S----. _ "Pope might have called the man that note. " S---- could not exactly explain his idea; somebody who was presentsaid, that if he had been in Pope's place, he would have called theofficer a note of admiration. S---- would have made this answer, if hehad been familiarly acquainted with the _name_ of the note ofadmiration. His judgment taught him how to set about looking for aproper answer; but it could not lead him to the exact place for wantof experience. We hope that we have, in the chapter on books, fully explained thedanger of accustoming children to read what they do not understand. Poetry, they cannot early comprehend; and even if they do understandit, they cannot improve their reasoning faculty by poetic studies. Theanalogies of poetry, and of reasoning, are very different. "The muse, "says an excellent judge upon this subject, "would make but anindifferent school-mistress. " We include under the head poetry, allbooks in which declamation and eloquence are substituted forreasoning. We should accustom our pupils to judge strictly of thereasoning which they meet with in books; no names of high authorityshould ever preclude an author's arguments from examination. The following passage from St. Pierre's Etudes de la Nature, was readto two boys: H----, 14 years old; S----, 10 years old. "Hurtful insects, present (the same) oppositions and signs ofdestruction; the gnat, thirsty of human blood, announces himself toour sight by the white spots with which his brown body is speckled;and by the shrill sound of his wings, which interrupts the calm of thegroves, he announces himself to our ear as well as to our eye. Thecarnivorous wasp is streaked like the tiger, with bands of black overa yellow ground. " H---- and S---- both at once exclaimed, that these spots in the gnat, and streaks in the wasp, had nothing to do with their stinging us. "The buzzing of the gnat, " said S----, "would, I think, be a veryagreeable sound to us, if we did not know that the gnat would sting, and that it was coming near us; and, as to the wasp, I rememberstopping one day upon the stairs to look at the beautiful black andyellow body of a wasp. I did not think of danger, nor of its stingingme then, and I did not know that it was like the tiger. After I hadbeen stung by a wasp, I did not think a wasp such a beautiful animal. I think it is very often from our knowing that animals can hurt us, that we think them ugly. We might as well say, " continued S----, pointing to a crocus which was near him, "we might as well say, that aman who has a yellow face has the same disposition as that crocus, orthat the crocus is in every thing like the man, because it is yellow. " Cicero's "curious consolation for deafness" is properly noticed by Mr. Hume. It was read to S---- a few days ago, to try whether he coulddetect the sophistry: he was not previously told what was thought ofit by others. "How many languages are there, " says Cicero, "which you do notunderstand! The Punic, Spanish, Gallic, Egyptian, &c. With regard toall these, you are as if you were deaf, and yet you are indifferentabout the matter. Is it then so great a misfortune to be deaf to onelanguage more?" "I don't think, " said S----, "that was at all a good way to consolethe man, because it was putting him in mind that he was more deaf thanhe thought he was. He did not think of those languages, perhaps, tillhe was put in mind that he could not hear them. " In stating any question to a child, we should avoid letting our ownopinion be known, lest we lead or intimidate his mind. We should alsoavoid all appearance of anxiety, all impatience for the answer; ourpupil's mind should be in a calm state when he is to judge: if we turnhis sympathetic attention to our hopes and fears, we agitate him, andhe will judge by our countenances rather than by comparing the objectsor propositions which are laid before him. Some people, in arguingwith children, teach them to be disingenuous by the uncandid manner inwhich they proceed; they show a desire for victory, rather than fortruth; they state the arguments only on their own side of thequestion, and they will not allow the force of those which are broughtagainst them. Children are thus piqued, instead of being convinced, and in their turn they become zealots in support of their ownopinions; they hunt only for arguments in their own favour, and theyare mortified when a good reason is brought on the opposite side ofthe question to that on which they happen to have enlisted. To preventthis, we should never argue, or suffer others to argue for victorywith our pupils; we should not praise them for their cleverness infinding out arguments in support of their own opinion; but we shouldpraise their candour and good sense when they perceive and acknowledgethe force of their opponent's arguments. They should not be exercisedas advocates, but as judges; they should be encouraged to keep theirminds impartial, to sum up the reasons which they have heard, and toform their opinion from these without regard to what they may haveoriginally asserted. We should never triumph over children forchanging their opinion. "I thought you were on _my_ side of thequestion; or, I thought you were on the other side of the questionjust now!" is sometimes tauntingly said to an ingenuous child, whochanges his opinion when he hears a new argument. You think it a proofof his want of judgment, that he changes his opinion in this manner;that he vibrates continually from side to side: let him vibrate, presently he will be fixed. Do you think it a proof that your scalesare bad, because they vibrate with every additional weight that isadded to either side? Idle people sometimes amuse themselves with trying the judgment ofchildren, by telling them improbable, extravagant stories, and thenask the simple listeners whether they believe what has been told them. The readiness of belief in children will always be proportioned totheir experience of the veracity of those with whom they converse;consequently children, who live with those who speak truth to them, will scarcely ever be inclined to doubt the veracity of strangers. Such trials of the judgment of our pupils should never be permitted. Why should the example of lying be set before the honest minds ofchildren, who are far from silly when they show simplicity? They guidethemselves by the best rules, by which even a philosopher in similarcircumstances could guide himself. The things asserted areextraordinary, but the children believe them, because they have neverhad any experience of the falsehood of human testimony. The Socratic mode of reasoning is frequently practised upon children. People arrange questions artfully, so as to bring them to whateverconclusion they please. In this mode of reasoning, much depends upongetting the first move; the child has very little chance of having it, his preceptor usually begins first with a peremptory voice, "Nowanswer me this question!" The pupil, who knows that theinterrogatories are put with a design to entrap him, is immediatelyalarmed, and instead of giving a direct, candid answer to thequestion, is always looking forward to the possible consequences ofhis reply; or he is considering how he may evade the snare that islaid for him. Under these circumstances he is in imminent danger oflearning the shuffling habits of cunning; he has little chance oflearning the nature of open, manly investigation. Preceptors, who imagine that it is necessary to put on very gravefaces, and to use much learned apparatus in teaching the art ofreasoning, are not nearly so likely to succeed as those who have thehappy art of encouraging children to lay open their minds freely, andwho can make every pleasing trifle an exercise for the understanding. If it be playfully pointed out to a child that he reasons ill, hesmiles and corrects himself; but you run the hazard of making himpositive in errour, if you reprove or ridicule him with severity. Itis better to seize the subjects that accidentally arise inconversation, than formally to prepare subjects for discussion. "The king's stag hounds, " (says Mr. White of Selborne, in hisentertaining observations on quadrupeds, [89]) "the king's stag houndscame down to Alton, attended by a huntsman and six yeoman prickerswith horns, to try for the stag that has haunted Hartley-woodand its environs for so long a time. Many hundreds of people, horse and foot, attended the dogs to see the deer unharboured;but though the huntsman drew Hartley-wood, and Long-coppice, andShrub-wood, and Temple-hangers, and in their way back, Hartley, andWardleham-hangers, yet no stag could be found. "The royal pack, _accustomed to have the deer turned out before them, never drew the coverts with any address and spirit_, " &c. Children, who are accustomed to have the game started and turned outbefore them by their preceptors, may, perhaps, like the royal pack, lose their wonted address and spirit, and may be disgracefully _at afault_ in the public chase. Preceptors should not help their pupilsout in argument, they should excite them to explain and support theirown observations. Many ladies show in general conversation the powers of easy railleryjoined to reasoning, unincumbered with pedantry. If they would employthese talents in the education of their children, they would probablybe as well repaid for their exertions, as they can possibly be by thepolite, but transient applause of the visiters to whom they usuallydevote their powers of entertaining. A little praise or blame, a smilefrom a mother, or a frown, a moments attention, or a look of coldneglect, have the happy, or the fatal power of repressing or ofexciting the energy of a child, of directing his understanding touseful or pernicious purposes. Scarcely a day passes in which childrendo not make some attempt to reason about the little events whichinterest them, and, upon these occasions, a mother, who joins inconversation with her children, may instruct them in the art ofreasoning without the parade of logical disquisitions. Mr. Locke has done mankind an essential service, by the candid mannerin which he has spoken of some of the learned forms of argumentation. A great proportion of society, he observes, are unacquainted withthese forms, and have not heard the name of Aristotle; yet, withoutthe aid of syllogisms, they can reason sufficiently well for all theuseful purposes of life, often much better than those who have beendisciplined in the schools. It would indeed "be putting one man sadlyover the head of another, " to confine the reasoning faculty to thedisciples of Aristotle, to any sect or system, or to any forms ofdisputation. Mr. Locke has very clearly shown, that syllogisms do notassist the mind in the perception of the agreement or disagreement ofideas; but, on the contrary, that they invert the natural order inwhich the thoughts should be placed, and in which they must be placed, before we can draw a just conclusion. To children who are notfamiliarized with scholastic terms, the sound of harsh words, andquaint language, unlike any thing that they hear in commonconversation, is alone sufficient to alarm their imagination with someconfused apprehension of difficulty. In this state of alarm they areseldom sufficiently masters of themselves, either to deny or toacknowledge an adept's major, minor, or conclusion. Even those who aremost expert in syllogistical reasoning, do not often apply it to thecommon affairs of life, in which reasoning is just as much wanted asit is in the abstract questions of philosophy; and many argue, andconduct themselves with great prudence and precision, who might, perhaps, be caught on the horns of a dilemma; or who would infalliblyfall victims to _the crocodile_. Young people should not be ignorant, however, of these boasted formsof argumentation; and it may, as they advance in the knowledge ofwords, be a useful exercise to resist the attacks of sophistry. Noingenious person would wish to teach a child to employ them. Asdefensive weapons, it is necessary, that young people should have thecommand of logical terms; as offensive weapons, these should never beused. They should know the evolutions, and be able to perform theexercise of a logician, according to the custom of the times, according to the usage of different nations; but they should notattach any undue importance to this technical art: they should nottrust to it in the day of battle. We have seen syllogisms, crocodiles, enthymemas, sorites, &c. Explained and tried upon a boy of nine or ten years old in playfulconversation, so that he became accustomed to the terms withoutlearning to be pedantic in the abuse of them; and his quickness inreasoning was increased by exercise in detecting puerile sophisms;such as that of _the Cretans_--Gorgias and his bargain about thewinning of his first cause. In the following sorites[90] ofThemistocles--"My son commands his mother; his mother commands me; Icommand the Athenians; the Athenians command Greece; Greece commandsEurope; Europe commands the whole earth; therefore my son commands thewhole earth"--the sophism depends upon the inaccurate use of the_commands_, which is employed in different senses in the differentpropositions. This errour was without difficulty detected by S---- atten years old; and we make no doubt that any unprejudiced boy of thesame age, would immediately point out the fallacy without hesitation;but we do not feel quite sure that a boy exercised in logic, who hadbeen taught to admire and reverence the ancient figures of rhetoric, would with equal readiness detect the sophism. Perhaps it may seemsurprising, that the same boy, who judged so well of this sorites ofThemistocles, should a few months before have been easily entrapped bythe following simple dilemma. _M----. _ "We should avoid what gives us pain. " _S----. _ "Yes, to be sure. " _M----. _ "Whatever burns us, gives us pain. " _S----. _ "Yes, that it does!" _M----. _ "We should then avoid whatever burns us. " To this conclusion S---- heartily assented, for he had but justrecovered from the pain of a burn. _M----. _ "Fire burns us. " _S----. _ "Yes, I know that. " _M----. _ "We should then avoid fire. " _S----. _ "Yes. " This hasty _yes_ was extorted from the boy by the mode ofinterrogatory; but he soon perceived his mistake. _M----. _ "We should avoid fire. What when we are very cold?" _S----. _ "Oh, no: I meant to say, that we should avoid a certaindegree of fire. We should not go _too_ near the fire. We should not go_so_ near as to burn ourselves. " Children who have but little experience, frequently admit assertionsto be true in general, which are only true in particular instances;and this is often attributed to their want of judgment: it should beattributed to their want of experience. Experience, and nothing else, can rectify these mistakes: if we attempt to correct them by words, weshall merely teach our pupils to argue about terms, not to reason. Some of the questions and themes which are given to boys may afford usinstances of this injudicious education. "Is eloquence advantageous, or hurtful to a state?" What a vast range of ideas, what variety ofexperience in men and things should a person possess, who is todiscuss this question! Yet it is often discussed by unfortunatescholars of eleven or twelve years old. "What is the greatest good?"The answer expected by a preceptor to this question, obviously is, virtue; and, if a boy can, in decent language, write a page or twoabout _pleasure's_ being a transient, and virtue a permanent good, hismaster flatters himself that he has early taught him to reasonphilosophically. But what ideas does the youth annex to the wordspleasure and virtue? Or does he annex any? If he annex no idea to thewords, he is merely talking about sounds. All reasoning ultimately refers to matters of fact: to judge whetherany piece of reasoning is within the comprehension of a child, we mustconsider whether the facts to which it refers are within hisexperience. The more we increase his knowledge of facts, the more weshould exercise him in reasoning upon them; but we should teach him toexamine carefully before he admits any thing to be a fact, or anyassertion to be true. Experiment, as to substances, is the test oftruth; and attention to his own feelings, as to matters of feeling. Comparison of the evidence of others with the general laws of nature, which he has learned from his own observation, is another mode ofobtaining an accurate knowledge of facts. M. Condillac, in his Art ofReasoning, maintains, that the evidence of reason depends solely uponour perception of the _identity_, or, to use a less formidable word, _sameness_, of one proposition with another. "A demonstration, " hesays, "is only a chain of propositions, in which the same ideas, passing from one to the other, differ only because they aredifferently expressed; the evidence of any reasoning consists solelyin its identity. " M. Condillac[91] exemplifies this doctrine by translating thisproposition, "The measure of every triangle is the product of itsheight by half its base, " into self-evident, or, as he calls them, identical propositions. The whole ultimately referring to the ideaswhich we have obtained by our senses of a triangle; of its base, ofmeasure, height, and number. If a child had not previously acquiredany one of these ideas, it would be in vain to explain one term byanother, or to translate one phrase or proposition into another; theymight be identical, but they would not be self-evident propositions tothe pupil; and no conclusion, except what relates merely to words, could be formed from such reasoning. The moral which we should drawfrom Condillac's observations for Practical Education must be, thatclear ideas should first be acquired by the exercise of the senses, and that afterwards, when we reason about things in words, we shoulduse few and accurate terms, that we may have as little trouble aspossible in changing or translating one phrase or proposition intoanother. Children, if they are not overawed by authority, if they areencouraged in the habit of observing their own sensations, and if theyare taught precision in the use of the words by which they describethem, will probably reason accurately where their own feelings areconcerned. In appreciating the testimony of others, and in judging of chances andprobability, we must not expect our pupils to proceed very rapidly. There is more danger that they should overrate, than that they shouldundervalue, the evidence of others; because, as we formerly stated, wetake it for granted, that they have had little experience offalsehood. We should, to preserve them from credulity, excite them inall cases where it can be obtained, never to rest satisfied withoutthe strongest species of evidence, that of their own senses. If achild says, "I am sure of such a thing, " we should immediately examineinto his reasons for believing it. "Mr. A. Or Mr. B. Told me so, " isnot a sufficient cause of belief, unless the child has had longexperience of A. And B. 's truth and accuracy; and, at all events, theindolent habit of relying upon the assertions of others, instead ofverifying them, should not be indulged. It would be waste of time to repeat those experiments, of the truth ofwhich the uniform experience of our lives has convinced us: we run nohazard, for instance, in believing any one who simply asserts, thatthey have seen an apple fall from a tree; this assertion agrees withthe great natural _law of gravity_, or, in other words, with theuniform experience of mankind: but if any body told us, that they hadseen an apple hanging self-poised in the air, we should reasonablysuspect the truth of their observation, or of their evidence. This isthe first rule which we can most readily teach our pupils in judgingof evidence. We are not speaking of children from four to six yearsold, for every thing is almost equally extraordinary to them; but, when children are about ten or eleven, they have acquired a sufficientvariety of facts to form comparisons, and to judge to a certain degreeof the probability of any new fact that is related. In reading and inconversation we should now exercise them in forming judgments, wherewe know that they have the means of comparison. "Do you believe such athing to be true? and why do you believe it? Can you account for sucha thing?" are questions we should often ask at this period of theireducation. On hearing extraordinary facts, some children will not besatisfied with vague assertions; others content themselves withsaying, "It is so, I read it in a book. " We should have little hopesof those who swallow every thing they read in a book; we are alwayspleased to see a child hesitate and doubt, and require positive proofbefore he believes. The taste for the marvellous, is strong inignorant minds; the wish to account for every new appearance, characterizes the cultivated pupil. A lady told a boy of nine years old (S----) the following story, whichshe had just met with in "The Curiosities of Literature. " An officer, who was confined in the Bastille, used to amuse himself by playing onthe flute: one day he observed, that a number of spiders came downfrom their webs, and hung round him as if listening to his music; anumber of mice also came from their holes, and retired as soon as hestopped. The officer had a great dislike to mice; he procured a catfrom the keeper of the prison, and when the mice were entranced by hismusic, he let the cat out amongst them. S---- was much displeased by this man's treacherous conduct towardsthe poor mice, and his indignation for some moments suspended hisreasoning faculty; but, when S---- had sufficiently expressed hisindignation against the officer in the affair of the mice, he beganto question the truth of the story; and he said, that he did not thinkit was certain, that the mice and spiders came to listen to the music. "I do not know about the mice, " said he, "but I think, perhaps, whenthe officer played upon the flute, he set the air in motion, and shookthe cobwebs, so as to disturb the spiders. " We do not, nor did thechild think, that this was a satisfactory account of the matter; butwe mention it as an instance of the love of investigation, which wewish to encourage. The difficulty of judging concerning the truth of evidence increases, when we take moral causes into the account. If we had any suspicion, that a man who told us that he had seen an apple fall from a tree, hadhimself pulled the apple down and stolen it, we should set theprobability of his telling a falsehood, and his motive for doing so, against his evidence; and though according to the natural physicalcourse of things, there would be no improbability in his story, yetthere might arise improbability from his character for dishonesty; andthus we should feel ourselves in doubt concerning the fact. But if twopeople agreed in the same testimony, our doubt would vanish; thedishonest man's doubtful evidence would be corroborated, and we shouldbelieve, notwithstanding his general character, in the truth of hisassertion in this instance. We could make the matter infinitely morecomplicated, but what has been said will be sufficient to suggest topreceptors the difficulty which their young and inexperienced pupilsmust feel, in forming judgments of facts where physical and moralprobabilities are in direct opposition to each other. We wish that a writer equal to such a task would write trials forchildren as exercises for their judgment; beginning with the simplest, and proceeding gradually to the more complicated cases in which moralreasonings can be used. We do not mean, that it would be advisable toinitiate young readers in the technical forms of law; but the generalprinciples of justice, upon which all law is founded, might, wethink, be advantageously exemplified. Such trials would entertainchildren extremely. There is a slight attempt at this kind ofcomposition, we mean in a little trial in Evenings at Home; and wehave seen children read it with great avidity. Cyrus's judgment aboutthe two coats, and the ingenious story of the olive merchant's cause, rejudged by the sensible child in the Arabian Tales, have been foundhighly interesting to a young audience. We should prefer truth to fiction: if we could select any instancesfrom real life, any trials suited to the capacity of young people, they would be preferable to any which the most ingenious writer couldinvent for our purpose. A gentleman who has taken his two sons, one ofthem ten, and the other fifteen years old, to hear trials at hiscounty assizes, found by the account which the boys gave of what theyhad heard, that they had been interested, and that they were capableof understanding the business. Allowance must be made at first for the bustle and noise of a publicplace, and for the variety of objects which distract the attention. Much of the readiness of forming judgments depends upon the power ofdiscarding and obliterating from our mind all the superfluouscircumstances; it may be useful to exercise our pupils, by tellingthem now and then stories in the confused manner in which they aresometimes related by puzzled witnesses; let them reduce theheterogeneous circumstances to order, make a clear statement of thecase for themselves, and try if they can point out the facts on whichthe decision principally rests. This is not merely education for alawyer; the powers of reasoning and judgment, when we have beenexercised in this manner, may be turned to any art or profession. Weshould, if we were to try the judgment of children, observe, whetherin unusual circumstances they can apply their former principles, andcompare the new objects that are placed before them withoutperplexity. We have sometimes found, that on subjects entirely new tothem, children, who have been used to reason, can lay aside thecircumstances that are not essential, and form a distinct judgment forthemselves, independently of the opinion of others. Last winter the entertaining life of the celebrated miser Mr. Elweswas read aloud in a family, in which there were a number of children. Mr. Elwes, once, as he was _walking_ home on a dark night, in London, ran against a chair pole and bruised both his shins. His friends sentfor a surgeon. Elwes was alarmed at the idea of expense, and he laidthe surgeon the amount of his bill, that the leg which he took underhis own protection would get well sooner than that which was put underthe surgeon's care; at the same time Mr. Elwes promised to put nothingto the leg of which he took charge. Mr. Elwes favourite leg got wellsooner than that which the surgeon had undertaken to cure, and Mr. Elwes won his wager. In a note upon this transaction his biographersays, "This wager would have been a bubble bet if it had been broughtbefore the Jockey-club, because Mr. Elwes, though he promised to putnothing to the leg under his own protection, took Velnos' vegetablesirup during the time of its cure. " C---- (a girl of twelve years old) observed when this anecdote wasread, that "still the wager was a fair wager, because _the medicine_which Mr. Elwes took, if it was of any use, must have been of use toboth legs; therefore the surgeon and Mr. Elwes had equal advantagefrom it. " C---- had never heard of the Jockey-club, or of bubble betsbefore, and she used the word _medicine_, because she forgot the nameof Velnos' vegetable sirup. We have observed, [92] that works of criticism are unfit for children, and teach them rather to remember what others say of authors, than tojudge of the books themselves impartially: but, when we object toworks of criticism, we do not mean to object to criticism; we think itan excellent exercise for the judgment, and we have ourselves been sowell corrected, and so kindly assisted by the observations of youngcritics, that we cannot doubt their capacity. This book has been readto a jury of young critics, who gave their utmost attention to it forabout half an hour at a sitting, and many amendments have been madefrom their suggestions. In the chapter on obstinacy, for instance, when we were asserting, that children sometimes forget their old badhabits, and do not consider these as a part of themselves, there wasthis allusion. "As the snake, when he casts his skin, leaves the slough behind him, and winds on his way in new and beautiful colours. " The moment this sentence was read, it was objected to by the audience. Mr. ---- objected to the word slough, as an ill sounding, disagreeableword, and which conveyed at first to the eye the idea of a wet boggyplace; such as the slough of Despond. At last S----, who had beenpondering over the affair in silence, exclaimed, "But I think there'sanother fault in the allusion; do not snakes cast their skins everyyear? Then these _new and beautiful colours_, which are the goodhabits, must be thrown aside and forgotten the next time; but thatshould not be. " This criticism appeared conclusive even to the author, and thesentence was immediately expunged. When young people have acquired a command of language, we must becareful lest their fluency and their ready use of synonymousexpressions should lessen the accuracy of their reasoning, Mr. HorneTooke has ably shown the connection between the study of language andthe art of reasoning. It is not necessary to make our pupils profoundgrammarians, or etymologists, but attention to the origin, abbreviations, and various meanings of words, will assist them notonly to speak, but to think and argue with precision. This is not astudy of abstract speculation, but of practical, daily utility; halfthe disputes, and much of the misery of the world, originate andperpetuate themselves by the inaccurate use of words. One party uses aword in _this_ sense, the opposite party uses the same word in anothersense; all their reasonings appear absurd to each other; and, insteadof explaining them, they quarrel. This is not the case merely in_philosophical_ disputes between authors, but it happens continuallyin the busy, active scenes of life. Even whilst we were writing thispassage, in the newspaper of to-day, we met with an instance that issufficiently striking. "The accusation against me, " says Sir Sidney Smith, in his excellentletter to Pichegru, expostulating upon his unmerited confinement, "brought forward by _your_ justice of the peace, was, that I was theenemy of the republic. You know, general, that with military men, theword _enemy_ has merely a technical signification, without expressingthe least character of hatred. You will readily admit this principle, the _result_ of which is, that I ought not to be persecuted for theinjury I have been enabled to do whilst I carried arms against you. " Here the argument between two generals, one of whom is pleading forhis liberty, if not for his life, turns upon the meaning andconstruction of a single word. Accuracy of reasoning, and someknowledge of language, may, it appears, be of essential service in allprofessions. It is not only necessary to attend to the exact meaning which isavowedly affixed to any terms used in argument, but is also useful toattend to the thoughts which are often suggested to the disputants bycertain words. Thus, the words happiness and beauty, suggest, inconversation, very different ideas to different men; and in arguing, concerning these, they could never come to a conclusion. Even personswho agree in the same definition of a word, frequently do notsufficiently attend to the ideas which the word suggests; to theassociation of thoughts and emotions which it excites; and, consequently, they cannot strictly abide by their own definition, norcan they discover where the errour lies. We have observed, [93] thatthe imagination is powerfully affected by words that suggest longtrains of ideas; our reasonings are influenced in the same manner, andthe elliptical figures of speech are used in reasoning as well as inpoetry. "I would do so and so, if I were Alexander. " "And so would I, if I were Parmenio;" is a short reply, which suggests a number of ideas, and a train ofreasoning. To those who cannot supply the intermediate ideas, theanswer would not appear either sublime or rational. Young people, whenthey appear to admire any compressed reasoning, should be encouragedto show that they can supply the thoughts and reasons that are notexpressed. Vivacious children, will be disgusted, however, if they arerequired to detail upon the subject;[94] all that is necessary, is tobe sure that they actually comprehend what they admire. Sometimes a question that appears simple, involves the considerationof others which are difficult. Whenever a preceptor cannot go to thebottom of the business, he will do wisely to say so at once to hispupil, instead of attempting a superficial or evasive reply. Forinstance, if a child was to hear that the Dutch burn and destroyquantities of spice, the produce of their India islands, he wouldprobably express some surprise, and perhaps some indignation. If apreceptor were to say, "The Dutch have a right to do what they pleasewith what is their own, and the spice is their own, " his pupil wouldnot yet be satisfied; he would probably say, "Yes, they have a rightto do what they please with what is their own; but why should theydestroy what is useful?" The preceptor might answer, if he chose tomake a foolish answer, "The Dutch follow their own interest inburning the spice; they sell what remains at a higher price; themarket would be overstocked if they did not burn some of their spice. "Even supposing the child to understand the terms, this would not be asatisfactory answer; nor could a satisfactory answer be given, withoutdiscussing the nature of commerce, and the _justice_ of monopolies. Where one question in this manner involves another, we should postponethe discussion, if it cannot be completely made; the road may be justpointed out, and the pupil's curiosity may be excited to futureinquiry. It is even better to be ignorant, than to have superficialknowledge. A philosopher, who himself excelled in accuracy of reasoning, recommends the study of mathematics, to improve the acuteness andprecision of the reasoning faculty. [95] To study any thing accurately, will have an excellent effect upon the mind; and we may afterwardsdirect the judgment to whatever purposes we please. It has often beenremarked, as a reproach upon men of science and literature, that thosewho judge extremely well of books, and of abstract philosophicalquestions, do not show the same judgment in the active business oflife: a man, undoubtedly, may be a good mathematician, a good critic, an excellent writer, and may yet not show, or rather not employ, muchjudgment in his conduct: his powers of reasoning cannot be deficient;the habit of employing those powers in conducting himself, he shouldhave been taught by early education. Moral reasoning, and the habit ofacting in consequence of the conviction of the judgment, we callprudence; a virtue of so much consequence to all the other virtues; avirtue of so much consequence to ourselves and to our friends, that itsurely merits a whole chapter to itself in Practical Education. FOOTNOTES: [85] V. Chapter on Attention. [86] V. Tasks. [87] Chapter on Acquaintance. [88] V. Stewart. [89] A Naturalist's Calendar, by the late Rev. Gilbert White, M. A. Published by Dr. Aikin, printed for B. And J. White, Fleet Street. [90] V. Deinology; where there are many entertaining examples of thefigures of rhetoric. [91] Une dèmonstration est donc une suite de propositions, ou lesmêmes idées passant de l'une à l'autre, ne différent que parcequ'elles sont énonceès différement; et l'évidence d'un raisonnementconsiste uniquement dans l'identité. V. Art de Raisonner, p. 2. [92] V. Chapter on Books. [93] V. Chapter on Imagination. [94] V. Attention. [95] Locke. Essay on the Conduct of the Human Understanding. CHAPTER XXIV. ON PRUDENCE AND ECONOMY. Voltaire says, that the king of Prussia always wrote with one kind ofenthusiasm, and acted with another. It often happens, that men judgewith one degree of understanding, and conduct themselves withanother;[96] hence the common-place remarks on the difference betweentheory and practice; hence the observation, that it is easy to beprudent for other people, but extremely difficult to be prudent forourselves. Prudence is a virtue compounded of judgment and resolution:we do not here speak of that narrow species of prudence, which is moreproperly called worldly wisdom; but we mean that enlarged, comprehensive wisdom, which, after taking a calm view of the objectsof happiness, steadily prefers the greatest portion of felicity. Thisis not a selfish virtue; for, according to our definition, benevolence, as one of the greatest sources of our pleasures, must beincluded in the truly prudent man's estimate. Two things are necessaryto make any person prudent, the power to judge, and the habit ofacting in consequence of his conviction. We have, in the precedingchapter, as far as we were able, suggested the best methods ofcultivating the powers of reasoning in our pupils; we must considernow how these can be applied immediately to their conduct, andassociated with habits of action. Instead of deciding always for our young pupils, we should earlyaccustom them to choose for themselves about every trifle which isinteresting to childhood: if they choose wisely, they should enjoy thenatural reward of their prudence; and if they decide rashly, theyshould be suffered to feel the consequence of their own errour. Experience, it is said, makes even fools wise; and the sooner we cangive experience, the sooner we shall teach wisdom. But we must notsubstitute belief upon trust for belief upon conviction. When a littleboy says, "I did not eat any more custard, because mamma told me thatthe custard would make me sick, " he is only obedient, he is notprudent; he submits to his mother's judgment, he does not use his own. When obedience is out of the question, children sometimes follow theopinions of others; of this we formerly gave an instance (v. Toys) inthe poor boy, who chose a gilt coach, because his mamma "_and everybody said it was the prettiest_, " whilst he really preferred theuseful cart: we should never prejudice them either by our _wisdom_ orour folly. A sensible little boy of four years old had seen somebody _tellingfortunes_ in the grounds of coffee; but when he had a cup of coffeegiven to him, he drank it all, saying, "Coffee is better thanfortune!" When their attention is not turned to divine what the spectators thinkand feel, children will have leisure to consult their own minds, andto compare their own feelings. As this has been already spoken of, [97]we shall not dwell upon it; we only mention it as a necessaryprecaution in teaching prudence. Some parents may perhaps fear, that, if they were to allow children tochoose upon every trifling occasion for themselves, they would becomewilful and troublesome: this certainly will be the effect, if we makethem think that there is a pleasure in the exercise of free-will, independently of any good that may be obtained by judicious choice. "Now, my dear, you shall have _your_ choice! You shall choose for_yourself_! You shall have your _free_ choice!" are expressions thatmay be pronounced in such a tone, and with such an emphasis to achild, as immediately to excite a species of triumphant ecstasy fromthe mere idea of having his _own_ free choice. By a different accentand emphasis we may repress the ideas of triumph, and, withoutintimidating the pupil, we may turn his mind to the difficulties, rather than the glory of being in a situation to decide for himself. We must not be surprised at the early imprudence of children; theirmistakes, when they first are allowed to make a choice, areinevitable; all their sensations are new to them, consequently theycannot judge of what they shall like or dislike. If some of LordMacartney's suite had, on his return from the late embassy to China, brought home some plant whose smell was perfectly unknown toEuropeans, would it have been possible for the greatest philosopher inEngland to have decided, if he had been asked, whether he should likethe unknown perfume? Children, for the first five or six years oftheir lives, are in the situation of this philosopher, relatively toexternal objects. We should never reproachfully say to a child, "Youasked to smell such a thing; you asked to see such a thing; and nowyou have had your wish, you don't like them!" How can the childpossibly judge of what he shall like or dislike, before he has tried?Let him try experiments upon his own feelings; the more accurateknowledge he acquires, the sooner he will be enabled to choose_prudently_. You may expedite his progress by exciting him to compareeach new sensation with those to which he is already familiarized;this will counteract that love of novelty which is often founddangerous to prudence; if the mind is employed in comparing, it cannotbe dazzled by new objects. Children often imagine, that what they like for the present minute, they shall continue to like for ever; they have not learnt fromexperiment, that the most agreeable sensations fatigue, if they areprolonged or frequently repeated; they have not learnt, that allviolent stimuli are followed by weariness or ennui. The sensiblepreceptor will not insist upon his pupil's knowing these things byinspiration, nor will he expect that his assertions or propheciesshould be implicitly believed; he will wait till the child _feels_, and at that moment he will excite his pupil to observe his ownfeelings. "You thought that you should never be tired of smelling thatrose, or of looking at that picture; now you perceive that you _are_tired: remember this; it may be of use to you another time. " If thisbe said in a friendly manner, it will not pique the child to defendhis past choice, but it will direct his future judgment. Young people are often reproached for their imprudence in preferring asmall present pleasure to a large distant advantage: this errour alsoarises from inexperience, not from want of judgment, or deficiency instrength of mind. When that which has been the future, has in its turnbecome present, children begin to have some idea of the nature oftime, and they can then form some comparisons between the value ofpresent and future pleasures. This is a very slow process; old peoplecalculate and depend upon the distant future more than the young, notalways from their increased wisdom or prudence, but merely from theirincreased experience, and consequent belief that the future will intime arrive. It is imprudent in old people to depend upon the future;if they were to reason upon the chance of their lives, they ought notto be secure of its arrival; yet habit in this instance, as in manyothers, is more powerful than reason: in all the plans of elderlypeople, there is seldom any errour from impatience as to the future;there often appear gross errours in their security as to its arrival. If these opposite habits could be mixed in the minds of the old and ofthe young, it would be for their mutual advantage. It is not possible to _infuse_ experience into the mind; our pupilsmust feel for themselves: but, by teaching them to observe their ownfeelings, we may abridge their labour; a few lessons will teach agreat deal when they are properly applied. To teach children tocalculate and compare their present and future pleasures, we may beginby fixing short intervals of time for our experiments; an hour, a day, a week, perhaps, are periods of time to which their imagination willeasily extend; they can measure and compare their feelings withinthese spaces of time, and we may lead them to observe their ownerrours in not providing for the future. "Now Friday is come; lastMonday you thought Friday would never come. If you had not cut awayall your pencil last week, you would have had some left to draw withto-day. Another time you will manage better. " We should also lead them to compare their ideas of any given pleasure, before and after the period of its arrival. "You thought last summerthat you should like making snow balls in winter, better than makinghay in summer. Now you have made snow-balls to-day; and you rememberwhat you felt when you were making hay last summer; do you like thesnow-ball pleasure, or the hay-making pleasure the best?" V. Berquin'sQuatre saisons. If our pupils, when they have any choice to make, prefer a smallpresent gratification to a great future pleasure, we should not, atthe moment of their decision, reproach their imprudence, but we should_steadily make them abide by their choice_; and when the time arrivesat which the greater pleasure might have been enjoyed, we shouldremark the circumstance, but not with a tone of reproach, for it istheir affair, not ours. "You preferred having a sheet of paper themoment you wanted it last week, to the having a quire of paper thisweek. " "Oh, but, " says the child, "I wanted a sheet of paper very muchthen, but I did not consider how soon this week would come--I wish Ihad chosen the quire. " "Then remember what you feel now, and you willbe able to choose better upon another occasion. " We should alwaysrefer to the pupils' own feelings, and look forward to their futureadvantage. The reason why so few young people attend to advice, is, that their preceptors do not bring it actually home to their feelings:it is useless to reproach for past imprudence; the child sees theerrour as plainly as we do; all that can be done, is to make it alesson for the future. To a geometrician, the words _by proposition 1st. _ stand for a wholedemonstration: if he recollects that he has once gone over thedemonstration, he is satisfied of its truth; and, without verifying itagain, he makes use of it in making out the demonstration of a newproposition. In moral reasoning, we proceed in the same manner; werecollect the result of our past experiments, and we refer to thismoral demonstration in solving a new problem. In time, by frequentpractice, this operation is performed so rapidly by the mind, that wescarcely perceive it, and yet it guides our actions. A man, in walkingacross the room, keeps out of the way of the tables and chairs, without perceiving that he reasons about the matter; a sober manavoids hard drinking, because he knows it to be hurtful to his health;but he does not, every time he refuses to drink, go over the wholetrain of reasoning which first decided his determination. A modernphilosopher, [98] calls this rapid species of reasoning "intuitiveanalogy;" applied to the business of life, the French call it tact. Sensible people have this tact in higher perfection than others; andprudent people govern themselves by it more regularly than others. Bythe methods which we have recommended, we hope it may be successfullycultivated in early education. Rousseau, in expressing his contempt for those who make _habit_ theironly guide of action, goes, as he is apt to do in the heat ofdeclamation, into the errour opposite to that which he ridicules. "Theonly habit, " cries he, "that I wish my Emilius to have, is the habitof having no habits. " Emilius would have been a strange being, had heliterally accomplished his preceptor's wish. To go up stairs, wouldhave been a most operose, and to go down stairs, a most tremendous, affair to Emilius, for he was to have no habits: between every step ofthe stairs, new deliberations must take place, and fresh decisions ofthe judgment and will ensue. In his moral judgments, Emilius wouldhave had as much useless labour. Habit surely is necessary, even tothose who make reason the ultimate judge of their affairs. Reason isnot to be appealed to upon every trivial occasion, to rejudge the samecause a million of times. Must a man, every time he draws a straightline, repeat to himself, "a right line is that which lieth evenlybetween its points?" Must he rehearse the propositions of Euclid, instead of availing himself of their practical use? "Christian, can'st thou raise a perpendicular upon a straight line?"is the apostrophe with which the cross-legged emperor of Barbary, seated on his throne of rough deal boards, accosts every _learned_stranger who frequents his court. In the course of his reign, probably, his Barbaric majesty may have reiterated the demonstrationof this favourite proposition, which he learned from a French surgeonabout five hundred times; but his majesty's understanding is notmaterially improved by these recitals; his geometrical learning isconfined, we are told, to this single proposition. It would have been scarcely worth while to have singled out for combatthis paradox of Rousseau's, concerning habit, if it had not presenteditself in the formidable form of an antithesis. A false maxim, conveyed in an antithesis, is dangerous, because it is easilyremembered and repeated, and it quickly passes current inconversation. But to return to our subject, of which we have _imprudently_ lostsight. Imprudence does not always arise from our neglect of our pastexperience, or from our forgetting to take the future into ourcalculations, but from false associations, or from passion. Objectsoften appear different to one man, from what they do to the rest ofthe world: this man may reason well upon what the majority ofreasonable people agree to call false appearances; he may followstrictly the conviction of his own understanding, and yet the worldwill say that he acts very imprudently. To the taste or smell of thosewho are in a fever, objects not only appear, but really are, to thepatients different from what they appear to persons in sound health:in the same manner to the imagination, objects have really a differentvalue in moments of enthusiasm, from what they have in our coolerhours, and we scarcely can believe that our view of objects will evervary. It is in vain to oppose reason to false associations; we mustendeavour to combat one set of associations by another, and to alterthe situation, and consequently, the views, [99] of the mistakenperson. Suppose, for instance, that a child had been in a coach andsix upon some _pleasant_ excursion (it is an improbable thing, but wemay suppose any thing:) suppose a child had enjoyed, from someaccidental circumstances, an extraordinary degree of pleasure in acoach and six, he might afterwards long to be in a similar vehicle, from a mistaken notion, that it could confer happiness. Here we shouldnot oppose the force of reasoning to a false association, but weshould counteract the former association. Give the child an equalquantity of amusement when he is not in a coach and six, and then hewill form fresh pleasurable associations with other objects which maybalance his first prepossession. If you oppose reason ineffectually topassion or taste, you bring the voice and power of reason intodiscredit with your pupil. When you have changed his view of things, you may then reason with him, and show him the cause of his formermistake. In the excellent fable of the shield that was gold on one side andsilver on the other, the two disputants never could have agreed untilthey changed places. --When you have, in several instances, proved byexperiment, that you judge more prudently than your pupil, he will bestrongly inclined to listen to your counsels, and then your experiencewill be of real use to him; he will argue from it with safety andsatisfaction. When, after recovering from fits of passion orenthusiasm, you have, upon several occasions, convinced him that youradmonitions would have prevented him from the pain of repentance, hewill recollect this when he again feels the first rise of passion inhis mind; and he may, in that lucid moment, avail himself of your calmreason, and thus avoid the excesses of extravagant passions. Thatunfortunate French monarch, [100] who was liable to temporary fits offrenzy, learned to foresee his approaching malady, and often requestedhis friends to disarm him, lest he should injure any of hisattendants. In a malady which precludes the use of reason, it was possible forthis humane patient to foresee the probable mischief he might do tohis fellow-creatures, and to take prudent measures against his ownviolence; and may not we expect, that those who are early accustomedto attend to their own feelings, may prepare against the extravaganceof their own passions, and avail themselves of the regulating adviceof their temperate friends? In the education of girls, we must teach them much more caution thanis necessary to boys: their prudence must be more the result ofreasoning than of experiment; they _must_ trust to the experience ofothers; they cannot always have recourse to what _ought to be_; theymust adapt themselves to what is. They cannot rectify the materialmistakes in their conduct, [101] Timidity, a certain tardiness ofdecision, and reluctance to act in public situations, are notconsidered as defects in a woman's character: her pausing prudencedoes not, to a man of discernment, denote imbecility; but appears tohim the graceful, auspicious characteristic of female virtue. There isalways more probability that women should endanger their own happinessby precipitation, than by forbearance. --Promptitude of choice, isseldom expected from the female sex; they should avail themselves ofthe leisure that is permitted to them for reflection. "Begin nothingof which you have not well considered the end, " was the piece ofadvice for which the Eastern Sultan[102] paid a purse of gold, theprice set upon it by a sage. The monarch did not repent of hispurchase. This maxim should be engraved upon the memory of our femalepupils, by the repeated lessons of education. We should, even intrifles, avoid every circumstance which can tend to make girlsventuresome; which can encourage them to trust their good fortune, instead of relying on their own prudence. Marmontel's tale, entitled"_Heureusement_, " is a witty, but surely not a _moral_, tale. Girlsshould be discouraged from hazarding opinions in general conversation;but amongst their friends, they should be excited to reason withaccuracy and with temper. [103] It is really a part of a woman'sprudence to have command of temper; if she has it not, her wit andsense will not have their just value in domestic life. Calphurnia, aRoman lady, used to plead her own causes before the senate, and we areinformed, that she became "so troublesome and confident, that thejudges decreed that thenceforward no woman should be suffered toplead. " Did not this lady make an imprudent use of her talents? In the choice of friends, and on all matters of taste, young womenshould be excited to reason about their own feelings. "There is noreasoning about taste, " is a pernicious maxim: if there were morereasoning, there would be less disputation upon this subject. If womenquestioned their own minds, or allowed their friends to questionthem, concerning the reasons of their "preferences and aversions, "there would not, probably, be so many love matches, and so few lovemarriages. It is in vain to expect, that young women should begin toreason miraculously at the very moment that reason is wanted in theguidance of their conduct. We should also observe, that women arecalled upon for the exertion of their prudence at an age when youngmen are scarcely supposed to possess that virtue; therefore, womenshould be more early, and more carefully, educated for the purpose. The important decisions of woman's life, are often made before she istwenty: a man does not come upon the theatre of public life, wheremost of his prudence is shown, till he is much older. Economy is, in women, an essential domestic virtue. Some women have afoolish love of expensive baubles; a taste which a very little care, probably, in their early education, might have prevented. We are told, that when a collection of three hundred and fifty pounds was made forthe celebrated Cuzzona, to save her from absolute want, sheimmediately laid out two hundred pounds of the money in the purchaseof a _shell cap_, which was then in fashion. [104] Prudent mothers, will avoid showing any admiration of pretty trinkets before theiryoung daughters; and they will oppose the ideas of utility anddurability to the mere caprice of fashion, which creates a taste forbeauty, as it were, by proclamation. "Such a thing is pretty, but itis of no use. Such a thing is pretty, but it will soon wear out"--amother may say; and she should prove the truth of her assertions toher pupils. Economy is usually confined to the management of money, but it may beshown on many other occasions: economy may be exercised in taking careof whatever belongs to us; children should have the care of their ownclothes, and if they are negligent of what is in their charge, thisnegligence should not be repaired by servants or friends, they shouldfeel the real natural consequences of their own neglect, but no otherpunishment should be inflicted; and they should be left to make theirown reflections upon their errours and misfortunes, undisturbed by thereproaches of their friends, or by the prosing moral of a governess orpreceptor. We recommend, for we must descend to these trifles, thatgirls should be supplied with an independent stock of all the littlethings which are in daily use; housewives, and pocket books wellstored with useful implements; and there should be no lending[105] andborrowing amongst children. It will be but just to provide our pupilswith convenient places for the preservation and arrangement of theirlittle goods. Order is necessary to economy; and we cannot morecertainly create a taste for order, than by showing early itsadvantages in practice as well as in theory. The aversion to _old_things, should, if possible, be prevented in children: we should notexpress contempt for _old_ things, but we should treat them withincreased reverence, and exult in their having arrived under ourprotection to such a creditable age. "I have had such a hat so long, therefore it does not signify what becomes of it!" is the speech of a_promising_ little spendthrift. "I have taken care of my hat, it haslasted so long; and I hope I shall make it last longer, " is theexultation of a young economist, in which his prudent friends shouldsympathize. "Waste not, want not, " is an excellent motto in an English nobleman'skitchen. [106] The most opulent parents ought not to be ashamed toadopt it in the economic education of their children: early habits ofcare, and an early aversion and contempt for the selfish spirit ofwasteful extravagance, may preserve the fortunes, and, what is of farmore importance, the integrity and peace of mind of noble families. We have said, that economy cannot be exercised without children'shaving the management of money. Whilst our pupils are young, if theyare educated at home, they cannot have much real occasion for money;all the necessaries of life are provided for them; and if they havemoney to spend, it must be probably laid out on superfluities. This isa bad beginning. Money should be represented to our pupils as what itreally is, the conventional sign of the value of commodities: beforechildren are acquainted with the real and comparative value of any ofthese commodities, it is surely imprudent to trust them with money. Asto the idea that children may be charitable and generous in thedisposal of money, we have expressed our sentiments fully upon thissubject already. [107] We are, however, sensible that when children aresent to any school, it is advisable to supply them with pocket-moneyenough to put them upon an equal footing with their companions;otherwise, we might run the hazard of inducing worse faults thanextravagance--meanness, or envy. Young people who are educated at home should, as much as possible, beeducated to take a family interest in all the domestic expenses. Parental reserve in money matters is extremely impolitic; as Mr. Lockejudiciously observes, that a father, who wraps his affairs up inmystery, and who "views his son with jealous eyes, " as a person who isto begin _to live_ when he dies, _must_ make him an enemy by treatinghim as such. A frank simplicity and cordial dependence upon theintegrity and upon the sympathy of their children, will ensure toparents their disinterested friendship. Ignorance is always more to bedreaded than knowledge. Young people, who are absolutely ignorant ofaffairs, who have no idea of the relative expense of different modesof living, and of the various wants of a family, are apt to beextremely unreasonable in the imaginary disposal of their parent'sfortune; they confine their view merely to their own expenses. "I_only_ spend such a sum, " they say, "and surely that is nothing to myfather's income. " They consider only the absolute amount of what theyspend; they cannot compare it with the number of other expenses whichare necessary for the rest of the family: they do not know these, therefore they cannot perceive the proportion which it is reasonablethat their expenditure should bear to the whole. Mrs. D'Arblay, in oneof her excellent novels, has given a striking picture of the ignorancein which young women sometimes leave their father's house, and beginto manage in life for themselves, without knowing any thing of the_powers_ of money. Camilla's imprudence must chiefly be ascribed toher ignorance. Young women should be accustomed to keep the familyaccounts, and their arithmetic should not be merely a speculativescience; they should learn the price of all necessaries, and of allluxuries; they should learn what luxuries are suited to their fortuneand rank, what degree of expense in dress is essential to a regularlyneat appearance, and what must be the increased expense andtemptations of fashion in different situations; they should not besuffered to imagine that they can resist these temptations more thanothers, if they get into company above their rank, nor should theyhave any indistinct idea, that by some wonderful economical operationsthey can make a given sum of money go further than others can do. Thesteadiness of calculation will prevent all these vain notions; andyoung women, when they see in stubborn figures what must be theconsequence of getting into situations where they must be tempted toexceed their means, will probably begin by avoiding, instead ofbraving, the danger. Most parents think that their sons are more disposed to extravagancethan their daughters; the sons are usually exposed to greatertemptations. Young men excite one another to expense, and to a certaincarelessness of economy, which assumes the name of spirit, while itoften forfeits all pretensions to justice. A prudent father willnever, from any false notions of forming his son early to _good_company, introduce him to associates whose only merit is their rankor their fortune. Such companions will lead a weak young man intoevery species of extravagance, and then desert and ridicule him in thehour of distress. If a young man has a taste for literature, and forrational society, his economy will be secured, simply because hispleasures will not be expensive, nor will they be dependent upon thecaprice of fashionable associates. The intermediate state between thatof a school-boy and a man, is the dangerous period in which taste forexpense is often acquired, before the means of gratifying it areobtained. Boys listen with anxiety to the conversation of those whoare a few years older than themselves. From this conversation theygather _information_ respecting the ways of the world, which, thoughoften erroneous, they tenaciously believe to be accurate: it is invain that their older friends may assure them that such and suchfrivolous expenses are not necessary to the well-being of a man insociety; they adhere to the opinion of the younger counsel; theyconclude that every thing has changed since their parents were young, that they must not govern themselves by antiquated notions, but by thescheme of economy which happens to be the fashion of the day. Duringthis boyish state, parents should be particularly attentive to thecompany which their sons keep; and they should frequently inconversation with sensible, but not with morose or old fashionedpeople, lead to the subject of economy, and openly discuss and settlethe most essential points. At the same time a father should notintimidate his son with the idea that nothing but rigid economy canwin his parental favour; his parental favour should not be a mercenaryobject; he should rather show his son, that he is aware of the greattemptations to which a young man is exposed in going first into theworld: he should show him, both that he is disposed to placeconfidence in him, and that he yet knows the fallibility of youthfulprudence. If he expect from his son unerring prudence, he expects toomuch, and he will, perhaps, create an apprehension of his displeasure, which may chill and repress all ingenuous confidence. In all hischildish, and in all his youthful distresses, a son should behabitually inclined to turn to his father as to his most indulgentfriend. "Apply to me if ever you get into any difficulties, and youwill always find me your _most indulgent friend_, " were the words of afather to a child of twelve years old, pronounced with suchencouraging benevolence, that they were never forgotten by the personto whom they were addressed. Before a young man goes into the world, it will be a great advantageto him to have some share in the management of his father's affairs;by laying out money for another person, he will acquire habits ofcare, which will be useful to him afterwards in his own affairs. Afather, who is building, or improving grounds, who is carrying onworks of any sort, can easily allot some portion of the business tohis son, as an exercise for his judgment and prudence. He should hearand see the estimates of workmen, and he should, as soon as he hascollected the necessary facts, form estimates of his own, before hehears the calculation of others: this power of estimating will be ofgreat advantage to gentlemen: it will circumscribe their wishes, andit will protect them against the low frauds of designing workmen. It may seem trivial, but we cannot forbear to advise young people toread the news-papers of the day regularly: they will keep up by thesemeans with the current of affairs, and they will exercise theirjudgment upon interesting business, and large objects. The sooner boysacquire the sort of knowledge necessary for the conversation ofsensible men, the better; they will be the less exposed to feel falseshame. False shame, the constant attendant upon ignorance, often leadsyoung men into imprudent expenses; when, upon any occasion, they donot know by any certain calculation to what any expense may amount, they are ashamed to inquire minutely. From another sort of weakness, they are ashamed to resist the example or importunity of numbers;against this weakness, the strong desire of preserving the goodopinion of estimable friends, is the best preservative. The taste forthe esteem of superior characters, cures the mind of fondness forvulgar applause. We have, in the very first chapter of this book, spoken of the dangerof the passion for gaming, and the precautions that we haverecommended in early education will, it is hoped, prevent the disorderfrom appearing in our pupils as they grow up. Occupations for theunderstanding, and objects for the affections, will preclude alldesire for the violent stimulus of the gaming table. It may be said, that many men of superior abilities, and of generous social tempers, become gamesters. They do so, because they have exhausted otherpleasures, and they have been accustomed to strong excitements. Suchexcitements do not become necessary to happiness, till they have beenmade habitual. There was an excellent Essay on Projects, published some years ago byan anonymous writer, which we think would make a great impression uponany young persons of good sense. We do not wish to repress thegenerous enterprising ardour of youth, or to confine the ideas to thenarrow circle of which self must be the centre. Calculation will showwhat can be done, and how it can be done; and thus the individual, without injury to himself, may, if he wish it, speculate extensivelyfor the good of his fellow creatures. It is scarcely possible, that the mean passion of avarice should existin the mind of any young person who has been tolerably well educated;but too much pains cannot be taken to preserve that domestic felicity, which arises from entire confidence and satisfaction amongst theindividuals of a family with regard to property. Exactness in accountsand in business relative to property, far from being unnecessaryamongst friends and relations, are, we think, peculiarly agreeable, and essential to the continuance of frank intimacy. We should, whilstour pupils are young, teach them a love for exactness about property;a respect for the rights of others, rather than a tenacious anxietyabout their own. When young people are of a proper age to manage moneyand property of their own, let them know precisely what they canannually spend; in whatever form they receive an income, let thatincome be certain: if presents of pocket money or of dress are fromtime to time made to them, this creates expectation and uncertainty intheir minds. All persons who have a fluctuating revenue, are disposedto be imprudent and extravagant. It is remarkable, that theWest-Indian planters, whose property is a kind of lottery, areextravagantly disposed to speculation; in the hopes of a favourableseason, they live from year to year in unbounded profusion. It iscurious to observe, that the propensity to extravagance exists inthose who enjoy the greatest affluence, and in those who have felt thegreatest distress. Those who have little to lose, are reckless aboutthat little; and any uncertainty as to the tenure of property, or asto the rewards of industry, immediately operates, not only to depressactivity, but to destroy prudence. "Prudence, " says Mr. Edwards, "is aterm that has no place in the negro vocabulary; instead of trusting towhat are called the _ground provisions_, which are safe from thehurricanes, the negroes, in the cultivation of their _own_ lands, trust more to plantain-groves, corn, and other vegetables that areliable to be destroyed by storms. When they earn a little money, theyimmediately gratify their palate with salted meats and otherprovisions, which are to them delicacies. The idea of accumulating, and of being economic in order to accumulate, is unknown to these poorslaves, who hold their lands by the most uncertain of alltenures, "[108] We are told, that the _provision ground_, the creationof the negro's industry, and the hope of his life, is sold by publicauction to pay his master's debts. Is it wonderful that the termprudence should be unknown in the negro vocabulary? The very poorest class of people in London, who feel despair, and whomerely live to bear the evil of the day, are, it is said, very littledisposed to be prudent. In a late publication, Mr. Colquhoun's"Treatise on the Police of the Metropolis, " he tells us, that the"chief consumption of oysters, crabs, lobsters, pickled salmon, &c. When first in season, and when the prices are high, is by the _lowest_classes of the people. The middle ranks, and those immediately underthem, abstain generally from such indulgences until the prices aremoderate. "[109] Perhaps it may be thought, that the consumption of oysters, crabs, andpickled salmon, in London, or the management of the negro's _provisionground_ in Jamaica, has little to do with a practical essay uponeconomy and prudence; but we hope, that we may be permitted to usethese far fetched illustrations, to show that the same causes act uponthe mind independently of climate: they are mentioned here to show, that the little _revenue_ of young people ought to be fixed andcertain. When we recommend economy and prudence to our pupils, we must, at thesame time, keep their hearts open to the pleasures of generosity;economy and prudence will put it in the power of the generous to give. "The worth of everything Is as much money as 'twill bring, " will never be the venal maxim of those who understand the nature ofphilosophic prudence. The worth of money is to be estimated by thenumber of real pleasures which it can procure: there are many whichare not to be bought by gold;[110] these will never lose theirpre-eminent value with persons who have been educated both to reasonand to feel. FOOTNOTES: [96] Here lies the mutton eating king; Whose promise none relied on; Whonever _said_ a foolish thing, And never did a wise one. _Epitaph on Charles 2d. _ [97] V. Taste and Imagination. [98] Darwin's Zoonomia. [99] Chapter on Imagination. [100] Charles VI. [101] "No penance can absolve their guilty fame, Nor tears, that wash outsin, can wash out shame. " [102] V. Persian Tales. [103] V. Chapter on Temper. [104] Mrs. Piozzi's English Synonymy, vol. I. P. 359. [105] V. Toys. [106] Lord Scarsdale's. Keddleston. [107] V. Chapter on Sympathy and Sensibility. [108] V. Edwards' History of the West Indies. [109] V. A note in page 32 of the Treatise on the Police of theMetropolis. CHAPTER XXV. SUMMARY. "The general principle, " that we should associate pleasure withwhatever we wish that our pupils should pursue, and pain with whateverwe wish that they should avoid, forms, our readers will perceive, thebasis of our plan of education. This maxim, applied to the cultivationof the understanding, or of the affections, will, we apprehend, beequally successful; virtues, as well as abilities, or what ispopularly called genius, we believe to be the result of education, notthe gift of nature. A fond mother will tremble at the idea, that somuch depends upon her own care in the early education of her children;but, even though she may be inexperienced in the art, she may bepersuaded that patience and perseverance will ensure her success: evenfrom her timidity we may prophesy favourably; for, in education, toknow the danger, is often to avoid it. The first steps require rathercaution and gentle kindness, than any difficult or laboriousexertions: the female sex are, from their situation, their manners, and talents, peculiarly suited to the superintendence of the earlyyears of childhood. We have, therefore, in the first chapters of thepreceding work, endeavoured to adapt our remarks principally to femalereaders, and we shall think ourselves happy, if any anxious motherfeels their practical utility. In the chapters on Toys, Tasks, and Attention, we have attempted toshow how the instruction and amusements of children may be so managedas to coincide with each other. _Play_, we have observed, is only achange of occupation; and toys, to be permanently agreeable tochildren, must afford them continued employment. We have declared waragainst _tasks_, or rather against the train of melancholy, which, associated with this word, usually render it odious to the ears of thedisgusted scholar. By kind patience, and well timed, distinct, andabove all, by short lessons, a young child may be initiated in themysteries of learning, and in the first principles of knowledge, without fatigue, or punishment, or tears. No matter how little belearned in a given time, provided the pupil be not disgusted; providedthe wish to improve be excited, and the habits of attention beacquired. Attention we consider as the faculty of the mind which isessential to the cultivation of all its other powers. It is essential to success in what are called accomplishments, ortalents, as well as to our progress in the laborious arts or abstractsciences. Believing so much to depend upon this faculty or habit, wehave taken particular pains to explain the practical methods by whichit may be improved. The general maxims, that the attention of youngpeople should at first be exercised but for very short periods; thatthey should never be urged to the point of fatigue; that pleasure, especially the great pleasure of success, should be associated withthe exertions of the pupil; are applicable to children of all tempers. The care which has been recommended, in the use of words, to conveyuniformly distinct ideas, will, it is hoped, be found advantageous. Wehave, without entering into the speculative question concerning theoriginal differences of temper and genius, offered such observationsas we thought might be useful in cultivating the attention ofvivacious, and indolent children; whether their idleness or indolenceproceed from nature, or from mistaken modes of instruction, we havebeen anxious to point out means of curing their defects; and, from oursuccessful experience with pupils apparently of opposite dispositions, we have ventured to assert with some confidence, that no parent shoulddespair of correcting a child's defects; that no preceptor shoulddespair of producing in his pupil the species of abilities which hiseducation steadily tends to form. These are encouraging hopes, but notflattering promises. Having just opened these bright views to parents, we have paused to warn them, that all their expectations, all theircares, will be in vain, unless they have sufficient prudence andstrength of mind to follow a certain mode of conduct with respect toservants, and with respect to common acquaintance. More failures inprivate education have been occasioned by the interference of servantsand acquaintance, than from any other cause. It is impossible, werepeat it in the strongest terms, it is impossible that parents can besuccessful in the education of their children at home, unless theyhave steadiness enough to resist all interference from visiters andacquaintance, who from thoughtless kindness, or a busy desire toadminister advice, are apt to counteract the views of a preceptor; andwho often, in a few minutes, undo the work of years. When our pupilshave formed their habits, and have reason and experience sufficient toguide them, let them be left as free as air; let them choose theirfriends and acquaintance; let them see the greatest variety ofcharacters, and hear the greatest variety of conversation andopinions: but whilst they are children, whilst they are destitute ofthe means to judge, their parents or preceptors must supply theirdeficient reason; and authority, without violence, should direct themto their happiness. They must see, that all who are concerned intheir education, agree in the means of governing them; in all theircommands and prohibitions, in the distribution of praise and blame, ofreward and punishment, there must be unanimity. Where there does notexist this unanimity in families; where parents have not sufficientfirmness to prevent the interference of acquaintance, and sufficientprudence to keep children _from all private communication withservants_, we earnestly advise that the children be sent to somepublic seminary of education. We have taken some pains to detail themethods by which all hurtful communication between children andservants, in a well regulated family, may be avoided, and we haveasserted, from the experience of above twenty years, that thesemethods have been found not only practicable, but easy. In the chapters on Obedience, Temper and Truth, the general principle, that pleasure should excite to exertion and virtue, and that painshould be connected with whatever we wish our pupils to avoid, isapplied to practice with a minuteness of detail which we knew not howto avoid. Obedience we have considered as a relative, rather than as apositive, virtue: before children are able to conduct themselves, their obedience must be rendered habitual: obedience alters its natureas the pupil becomes more and more rational; and the only method tosecure the obedience, the willing, enlightened obedience of rationalbeings, is to convince them by experience, that it tends to theirhappiness. Truth depends upon example more than precept; and we haveendeavoured to impress it on the minds of all who are concerned ineducation, that the first thing necessary to teach their pupils tolove truth, is in their whole conduct to respect it themselves. Wehave reprobated the artifices sometimes used by preceptors towardstheir pupils; we have shown that all confidence is destroyed by thesedeceptions. May they never more be attempted! May parents unite inhonest detestation of these practices! Children are not fools, andthey are not to be governed like fools. Parents who adhere to the firmprinciple of truth, may be certain of the respect and confidence oftheir children. Children who never see the example of falsehood, willgrow up with a simplicity of character, with an habitual love oftruth, that must surprise preceptors who have seen the propensity todeceit which early appears in children who have had the misfortune tolive with servants, or with persons who have the habits of meannessand cunning. We have advised, that children, before their habits areformed, should never be exposed to temptations to deceive; that noquestions should be asked them which hazard their young integrity;that as they grow older, they should gradually be trusted; and thatthey should be placed in situations where they may feel the advantagesboth of speaking truth, and of obtaining a character for integrity. The perception of the utility of this virtue to the individual, and tosociety, will confirm the habitual reverence in which our pupils havebeen taught to hold it. As young people become reasonable, the natureof their habits and of their education should be explained to them, and their virtues, from being virtues of custom, should be renderedvirtues of choice and reason. It is easier to confirm good habits bythe conviction of the understanding, than to induce habits inconsequence of that conviction. This principle we have pursued in thechapter on Rewards and Punishments; we have not considered punishmentas vengeance or retaliation, but as _pain inflicted with thereasonable hope of procuring some future advantage to the delinquent, or to society_. The smallest possible quantity of pain that can effectthis purpose, we suppose, must, with all just and humane persons, bethe measure of punishment. This notion of punishment, both for thesake of the preceptor and the pupil, should be clearly explained asearly as it can be made intelligible. As to rewards, we do not wishthat they should be bribes; they should stimulate, without weakeningthe mind. The consequences which naturally follow every species ofgood conduct, are the proper and best rewards that we can devise;children whose understandings are cultivated, and whose tempers arenot spoiled, will be easily made happy without the petty bribes whichare administered daily to ill educated, ignorant, over stimulated, and, consequently, wretched and ill humoured children. Far from makingchildhood a state of continual penance, restraint, and misery, we wishthat it should be made a state of uniform happiness; that parents andpreceptors should treat their pupils with as much equality andkindness as the improving reason of children justifies. The views ofchildren should be extended to their future advantage, [111] and theyshould consider childhood as a part of their existence, not as acertain number of years which must be passed over before they canenjoy any of the pleasures of life, before they can enjoy any of theprivileges of _grown up people_. Preceptors should not accustom theirpupils to what they call indulgence, but should give them the utmostdegree of present pleasure which is consistent with their futureadvantage. Would it not be folly and cruelty to give present pleasureat the expense of a much larger portion of future pain? When childrenacquire experience and reason, they rejudge the conduct of those whohave educated them; and their confidence and their gratitude will bein exact proportion to the wisdom and justice with which they havebeen governed. It was necessary to explain at large these ideas of rewards andpunishments, that we might clearly see our way in the progress ofeducation. After having determined, that our object is to obtain forour pupils the greatest possible portion of felicity; after havingobserved, that no happiness can be enjoyed in society without thesocial virtues, without the _useful_ and the _agreeable_ qualities;our view naturally turns to the means of forming these virtues, ofensuring these essential qualities. On our sympathy with our fellowcreatures depend many of our social virtues; from our ambition toexcel our competitors, arise many of our most _useful_ and _agreeable_actions. We have considered these principles of action as they dependon each other, and as they are afterwards separated. Sympathy andsensibility, uninformed by reason, cannot be proper guides to action. We have endeavoured to show how sympathy may be improved into virtue. Children should not see the deformed expression of the malevolentpassions in the countenance of those who live with them: before thehabits are formed, before sympathy has any rule to guide itself, it isnecessarily determined by example. Benevolence and affectionatekindness from parents to children, first inspire the pleasing emotionsof love and gratitude. Sympathy is not able to contend with passion orappetite: we should therefore avoid placing children in painfulcompetition with one another. We love those from whom we receivepleasure. To make children fond of each other, we must make them thecause of pleasure to each other; we must place them in situationswhere no passion or appetite crosses their natural sympathy. We havespoken of the difference between transient, convivial sympathy, andthat higher species of sympathy which, connected with esteem, constitutes friendship. We have exhorted parents not to exhaustimprudently the sensibility of their children; not to lavish caressesupon their infancy, and cruelly to withdraw their kindness when theirchildren have learned to expect the daily stimulus of affection. Theidea of exercising sensibility we have endeavoured to explain, and toshow, that if we require premature gratitude and generosity from youngpeople, we shall only teach them affectation and hypocrisy. We haveslightly touched on the dangers of excessive female sensibility, andhave suggested, that useful, active employments, and the cultivationof the reasoning faculty, render sympathy and sensibility morerespectable, and not less graceful. In treating of vanity, pride, and ambition, we have been moreindulgent to vanity than our _proud_ readers will approve. We hope, however, not to be misunderstood; we hope that we shall not appear tobe admirers of that mean and ridiculous foible, which is anxiouslyconcealed by all who have any desire to obtain esteem. We cannot, however, avoid thinking it is a contradiction to inspire young peoplewith a wish to excel, and at the same time to insist upon theirrepressing all expressions of satisfaction if they succeed. The desireto obtain the good opinion of others, is a strong motive to exertion:this desire cannot be discriminative in children before they have anyknowledge of the comparative value of different qualities, and beforethey can estimate the consequent value of the applause of differentindividuals. We have endeavoured to show how, from appealing at firstto the opinions of others, children may be led to form judgments oftheir own actions, and to appeal to their own minds for approbation. The sense of duty and independent self-complacency may gradually besubstituted in the place of weak, ignorant vanity. There is not muchdanger that young people, whose understandings are improved, and whomix gradually with society, should not be able to repress thoseoffensive expressions of vanity or pride, which are disagreeable tothe feelings of the "impartial spectators. " We should rather let thevanity of children find its own level, than attempt any artificialadjustments; they will learn propriety of manners from observation andexperience; we should have patience with their early uncivilizedpresumption, lest we, by premature restraints, check the energy of themind, and induce the cold, feeble vice of hypocrisy. In their ownfamily, among the friends whom they ought to love and esteem, letchildren, with simple, unreserved vivacity, express the good opinionthey have of themselves. It is infinitely better that they should beallowed this necessary expansion of self-complacency in the company oftheir superiors, than that it should be repressed by the cold hand ofauthority, and afterwards be displayed in the company of inferiors andsycophants. We have endeavoured to distinguish between the proper andimproper use of praise as a motive in education: we have considered itas a stimulus which, like all other excitements, is serviceable orpernicious, according to the degree in which it is used, and thecircumstances in which it is applied. Whilst we have thus been examining the general means of educating theheart and the understanding, we have avoided entering minutely intothe technical methods of obtaining certain parts of knowledge. It wasessential, in the first place, to show, how the desire of knowledgewas to be excited; what acquirements are most desirable, and how theyare to be most easily obtained, are the next considerations. In thechapter on Books--Classical Literature and Grammar--Arithmetic andGeometry--Geography and Astronomy--Mechanics and Chemistry--we haveattempted to show, how a taste for literature may early be infusedinto the minds of children, and how the rudiments of science, and somegeneral principles of knowledge, may be acquired, without disgustingthe pupil, or fatiguing him by unceasing application. We have, inspeaking of the choice of books for children, suggested the generalprinciples, by which a selection may be safely made; and by minute, but we hope not invidious, criticism, we have illustrated ourprinciples so as to make them practically useful. The examination of M. Condillac's Cours d'Etude was meant toillustrate our own sentiments, more than to attack a particularsystem. Far from intending to depreciate this author, we think mosthighly of his abilities; but we thought it necessary to point out somepractical errours in his mode of instruction. Without examples fromreal life, we should have wandered, as many others of far superiorabilities have already wandered, in the shadowy land of theory. In our chapters on Grammar, Arithmetic, Mechanics, Chemistry, &c. Allthat we have attempted has been to recall to preceptors thedifficulties which they once experienced, and to trace those earlyfootsteps which time insensibly obliterates. How few possess, likeFaruknaz in the Persian tale, the happy art of transfusing their ownsouls into the bosoms of others! We shall not pity the reader whom we have dragged through Garretson'sExercises, if we can save one trembling little pilgrim from that"slough of despond. " We hope that the patient, quiet mode of teachingclassical literature, which we have found to succeed in a fewinstances, may be found equally successful in others; we are notconscious of having exaggerated, and we sincerely wish that someintelligent, benevolent parents may verify our experiments upon theirown children. The great difficulty which has been found in attempts to instructchildren in science, has, we apprehend, arisen from the theoreticmanner in which preceptors have proceeded. The knowledge that cannotbe immediately applied to use, has no interest for children, has nohold upon their memories; they may learn the principles of mechanics, or geometry, or chemistry; but if they have no means of applying theirknowledge, it is quickly forgotten, and nothing but the disgustconnected with the recollection of useless labour remains in thepupil's mind. It has been our object, in treating of these subjects, to show how they may be made interesting to young people; and for thispurpose we should point out to them, in the daily, active business oflife, the practical use of scientific knowledge. Their senses shouldbe exercised in experiments, and these experiments should be simple, distinct, and applicable to some object in which our pupils areimmediately interested. We are not solicitous about the quantity ofknowledge that is obtained at any given age, but we are extremelyanxious that the desire to learn should continually increase, andthat whatever is taught should be taught with that perspicuity, whichimproves the general understanding. If the first principles of scienceare once clearly understood, there is no danger that the pupil shouldnot, at any subsequent period of his life, improve his practicalskill, and increase his knowledge to whatever degree he thinks proper. We have hitherto proceeded without discussing the comparativeadvantages of public or private education. Whether children are to beeducated at home, or to be sent to public seminaries, the same courseof education, during the first years of their lives, should bepursued; and the preparatory care of parents is essential to thesuccess of the public preceptor. We have admitted the necessity ofpublic schools, and, in the present state of society, we acknowledgethat many parents have it not in their power properly to superintendthe private education of a family. We have earnestly advised parentsnot to attempt private education without first calculating thedifficulties of the undertaking; we have pointed out that, byco-operating with the public instructer, parents may assist in theformation of their children's characters, without undertaking the solemanagement of their classical instruction. A private education, upon acalm survey of the advantages of both systems, we prefer, because moreis in the power of the private than of the public instructer. Oneuniform course of experience may be preserved, and no examples, butthose which we wish to have followed, need be seen by those childrenwho are brought up at home. When we give our opinion in favour ofprivate education, we hope that all we have said on servants and onacquaintance will be full in the reader's recollection. No privateeducation, we repeat it, can succeed without perfect unanimity, consistency, and steadiness, amongst all the individuals in thefamily. We have recommended to parents the highest liberality as the highestprudence, in rewarding the care of enlightened preceptors. Ye greatand opulent parents, condescend to make your children happy: providefor yourselves the cordial of domestic affection against "thatsickness of long life--old age. " In what we have said of governesses, masters, and the value of femaleaccomplishments, we have considered not only what is the fashion ofto-day, but rather what is likely to be the fashion of ten or twentyyears hence. Mothers will look back, and observe how much the systemof female education has altered within their own memory; and they willsee, with "the prophetic eye of taste, " what may probably be thefashion of another spring--another race. [112] We have endeavoured tosubstitute the words _domestic happiness_ instead of the presentterms, "success in the world--fortunate establishments, " &c. This willlead, perhaps, at first, to some confusion in the minds of those whohave been long used to the old terms: but the new vocabulary has itsadvantages; the young and unprejudiced will, perhaps, perceive them, and maternal tenderness will calculate with more precision, but notwith less eagerness, the chances of happiness according to the new andold tables of interest. Sectary-metaphysicians, if any of this description should ever deignto open a book that has a _practical_ title, will, we fear, bedisappointed in our chapters on Memory--Imagination and Judgment. Theywill not find us the partisans of any system, and they will probablyclose the volume with supercilious contempt. We endeavour to consoleourselves by the hope, that men of sense and candour will be moreindulgent, and will view with more complacency an attempt to collectfrom all metaphysical writers, those observations, which can beimmediately of practical use in education. Without any pompouspretensions, we have given a sketch of what we have been able tounderstand and ascertain of the history of the mind. On somesubjects, the wisest of our readers will at least give us credit forknowing that we are ignorant. We do not set that high value upon Memory, which some preceptors areinclined to do. From all that we have observed, we believe that fewpeople are naturally deficient in this faculty; though in many it mayhave been so injudiciously cultivated as to induce the spectators toconclude, that there was some original defect in the retentive power. The recollective power is less cultivated than it ought to be, by theusual modes of education: and this is one reason why so few pupilsrise above mediocrity. They lay up treasures for moths to corrupt;they acquire a quantity of knowledge, they learn a multitude of wordsby rote, and they cannot produce a single fact, or a single idea, inthe moment when it is wanted: they collect, but they cannot combine. We have suggested the means of cultivating the inventive faculty atthe same time that we store the memory; we have shown, that on theorder in which ideas are presented to the mind, depends the order inwhich they will recur to the memory; and we have given examples fromthe histories of great men and little children, of the reciprocalassistance which the memory and the inventive powers afford eachother. In speaking of Taste, it has been our wish to avoid prejudice andaffectation. We have advised that children should early be informed, that the principles of taste depend upon casual, arbitrary, variableassociations. This will prevent our pupils from falling into thevulgar errour of being amazed and _scandalized_ at the tastes of othertimes and other nations. The beauties of nature and the productions ofart, which are found to be most generally pleasing, we shouldassociate with pleasure in the mind: but we ought not to expect thatchildren should admire those works of imagination which suggest, instead of expressing, ideas. Until children have acquired thelanguage, until they have all the necessary trains of ideas, many ofthe finest strokes of genius in oratory, poetry, and painting, mustto them be absolutely unintelligible. In a moral point of view, we have treated of the false associationswhich have early influence upon the imagination, and produce thefurious passions and miserable vices. The false associations whichfirst inspire the young and innocent mind with the love of wealth, ofpower, or what is falsely called pleasure, are pointed out; and somepractical hints are offered to parents, which it is hoped may tend topreserve their children from these moral insanities. We do not think that persons who are much used to children, willquarrel with us for what we have said of early prodigies of wit. People, who merely talk to children for the amusement of the moment, may admire their "lively nonsense, " and will probably think thesimplicity of mind that we prefer, is downright stupidity. The habitof reasoning is seldom learned by children who are much taken noticeof for their sprightly repartees; but we have observed that children, after they have learned to reason, as they grow up and becomeacquainted with the manners and customs of the world, are by no meansdeficient in talents for conversation, and in that species of witwhich depends upon the perception of analogy between ideas, ratherthan a play upon words. At all events, we would rather that our pupilsshould be without the brilliancy of wit, than the solid and essentialpower of judgment. To cultivate the judgment of children, we must begin by teaching themaccurately to examine and compare such external objects as areimmediately obvious to their senses; when they begin to argue, we mustbe careful to make them explain their terms and abide by them. Inbooks and conversation, they must avoid all bad reasoning, nor shouldthey ever be encouraged in the quibbling habit of arguing for victory. Prudence we consider as compounded of judgment and resolution. When weteach children to reflect upon and compare their own feelings, when wefrequently give them their _choice_ in things that are interesting tothem, we educate them to be prudent. We cannot teach this virtue untilchildren have had some experience; as far as their experience goes, their prudence may be exercised. Those who reflect upon their ownfeelings, and find out exactly what it is that makes them happy, aretaught wisdom by a very few distinct lessons. Even fools, it is said, grow wise by experience, but it is not until they grow old under herrigid discipline. Economy is usually understood to mean prudence in the management ofmoney; we have used this word in a more enlarged sense. Children, wehave observed, may be economic of any thing that is trusted to theircharge; until they have some use for money, they need not be troubledor tempted with it: if all the necessaries and conveniences of lifeare provided for them, they must spend whatever is given to them aspocket money, in superfluities. This habituates them early toextravagance. We do not apprehend that young people should beentrusted with money, till they have been some time used to manage themoney business of others. They may be taught to keep the accounts of afamily, from which they will learn the price and value of differentcommodities. All this, our readers will perceive, is nothing more thanthe application of the different reasoning powers to differentobjects. We have thus slightly given a summary of the chapters in the precedingwork, to recall the whole in a connected view to the mind; a fewsimple principles run through the different parts; all the purposes ofpractical education tend to one distinct object; to render our pupilsgood and wise, that they may enjoy the greatest possible share ofhappiness at present and in future. Parental care and anxiety, the hours devoted to the instruction of afamily, will not be thrown away; if parents have the patience to waitfor their reward, that reward will far surpass their most sanguineexpectations: they will find in their children agreeable companions, sincere and affectionate friends. Whether they live in retirement, orin the busy world, they will feel their interest in life increase, their pleasures multiplied by sympathy with their beloved pupils; theywill have a happy home. How much is comprised in that singleexpression! The gratitude of their pupils will continually recall totheir minds the delightful reflection, that the felicity of theirwhole family is their work; that the virtues and talents of theirchildren are the necessary consequences of good education. FOOTNOTES: [110] "Turn from the glittering bribe your scornful eye, Nor sell for goldwhat gold can never buy. " _Johnson's London. _ [111] Emilius. [112] "Another spring, another race supplies. " Pope's Homer. NOTES, CONTAINING CONVERSATIONS AND ANECDOTES OF CHILDREN. Several years ago a mother, [113] who had a large family to educate, and who had turned her attention with much solicitude to the subjectof education, resolved to write notes from day to day of all thetrifling things which mark the progress of the mind in childhood. Shewas of opinion, that the art of education should be considered as anexperimental science, and that many authors of great abilities hadmistaken their road by following theory instead of practice. The titleof "_Practical Education_" was chosen by this lady, and prefixed to alittle book for children, which she began, but did not live to finish. The few notes which remain of her writing, are preserved, not merelyout of respect to her memory, but because it is thought that they maybe useful. Her plan of keeping a register of the remarks of children, has at intervals been pursued in her family; a number of theseanecdotes have been interspersed in this work; a few, which did notseem immediately to suit the didactic nature of any of our chapters, remain, and with much hesitation and diffidence are offered to thepublic. We have selected such anecdotes as may in some measureillustrate the principles that we have endeavoured to establish; andwe hope, that from these trifling, but genuine conversations ofchildren and parents, the reader will distinctly perceive thedifference, between practical and theoretic education. As some furtherapology for offering them to the public, we recur to a passage in Dr. Reid's[114] Essays, which encourages an attempt to study minutely theminds of children. "If we could obtain a distinct and full history of all that hathpassed in the mind of a child from the beginning of life and sensationtill it grows up to the use of reason, how its infant faculties beganto work, and how they brought forth and ripened all the variousnotions, opinions, and sentiments, which we find in ourselves when wecome to be capable of reflection, this would be a treasure of naturalhistory which would probably give more light into the human faculties, than all the systems of philosophers about them, from the beginning ofthe world. " The reader, we hope, will not imagine that we think we can present himwith this treasure of natural history; we have only a few scatterednotices, as Bacon would call them, to offer; perhaps, even this slightattempt may awaken the attention of persons equal to the undertaking:if able preceptors and parents would pursue a similar plan, we might, in time, hope to obtain a full history of the infant mind. It may occur to parents, that writing notes of the remarks of childrenwould lessen their freedom and simplicity in conversation; this wouldcertainly be the case if care were not taken to prevent the pupilsfrom thinking of the _note-book_. [115] The following notes were neverseen by the children who are mentioned in them, and though it was ingeneral known in the family that such notes were taken, the particularremarks that were written down, were never known to the pupils: norwas any curiosity excited upon this subject. The attempt would havebeen immediately abandoned, if we had perceived that it produced anybad consequences. The simple language of childhood has been preservedwithout alteration in the following notes; and as we could not deviseany better arrangement, we have followed the order of time, and wehave constantly inserted the ages of the children, for thesatisfaction of preceptors and parents, to whom alone these infantineanecdotes can be interesting: We say nothing farther as to theiraccuracy; if the reader does not see in the anecdotes themselvesinternal marks of veracity, all we could say would be of no avail. X---- (a girl of five years old) asked why a piece of paper fellquickly to the ground when rumpled up, and why so slowly when opened. Y---- (a girl of three years and a half old) seeing her sister takencare of and nursed when she had chilblains, said, that she wished tohave chilblains. Z---- (a girl between two and three) when her mother was putting onher bonnet, and when she was going out to walk, looked at the cat, andsaid with a plaintive voice, "Poor pussey! you have no bonnet, Pussey!" X---- (5 years old) asked why she was as tall as the trees when shewas far from them. Z---- (4 years old) went to church, and when she was there said, "Dothose men do every thing better than we, because they talk so loud, and I think they read. " It was a country church, and people sang; but the child said, "Shethought they didn't sing, but roared, because they were shut up inthat place, and didn't like it. " L---- (a boy between 3 and 4 years) was standing before a grate withcoals in it, which were not lighted; his mother said to him, "What isthe use of coals?" _L----. _ "To put in your grate. " _Mother. _ "Why are they put there?" _L----. _ "To make fire. " _Mother. _ "How do they make fire?" _L----. _ "Fire is brought to them. " _Mother. _ "How is fire brought to them?" _L----. _ "Fire is brought to them upon a candle and put to them. " L----, a little while afterwards, asked leave to light a candle, andwhen a bit of paper was given to him for that purpose, said, "But, mother, may I take some light out of your fire to put to it?" This boy had more exact ideas of property than Prometheus had. Z----, when she was between five and six, said, "Water keeps thingsalive, and eating keeps alive children. " _Z----_ (same age) meddling with a fly, said, "she did not hurt it. ""Were you ever a fly?" said her mother. "Not _that I know of_, "answered the child. _Z----'s_ father sent her into a room where there were some knives andforks. "If you meddle with them, " said he, "you may cut yourself. " _Z----. _ "I won't cut myself. " _Father. _ "Can you be sure of that?" _Z----. _ "No, but I can take care. " _Father. _ "But if you should cut yourself, would it do you any good?" _Z----. _ "No--Yes. " _Father. _ "What good?" _Z----. _ "Not to do so another time. " ---- (same age. ) Z----'s mother said to her, "Will you give me some ofyour fat cheeks?" _Z----. _ "No, I cannot, it would hurt me. " _Mother. _ "But if it would not hurt you, would you give me some?" _Z----. _ "No, it would make two holes in my cheeks that would bedisagreeable. " A sentimental mother would, perhaps, have been displeased with thesimple answers of this little girl. (Vide Sympathy and Sensibility. ) The following memorandums of Mrs. H----E----'s (dated 1779) have beenof great use to us in our chapter upon Toys. "The playthings of children should be calculated to fix theirattention, that they may not get a habit of doing any thing in alistless manner. "There are periods as long as two or three months at a time, in thelives of young children, when their bodies appear remarkably activeand vigorous, and their minds dull and inanimate; they are at thesetimes incapable of comprehending any new ideas, and forgetful of thosethey have already received. When this disposition to exert the bodilyfaculties, subsides, children show much restlessness and distaste fortheir usual plays. The intervals between meals, appear long to them;they ask a multitude of questions, and are continually looking forwardto some future good; if at this time any mental employment bepresented to them, they receive it with the utmost avidity, and pursueit with assiduity; their minds appear to have acquired additionalpowers from having remained inactive for a considerable time. " (January 1781. ) Z----, (7 years old. ) "What are bones made of? Myfather says it has not been found out. If I should find it out, Ishall be wiser in that respect than my father. " (April 8th. ) _Z----. _ "What becomes of the blood when people die?" _Father. _ "It stays in the body. " _Z----. _ "I thought it went out of the body; because you told me, thatwhat we eat was turned into blood, and that blood nourished the bodyand kept it alive. " _Father. _ "Yes, my dear; but blood must be in motion to keep the bodyalive; the heart moves the blood through the arteries and veins, andthe blood comes back again to the heart. We don't know how this motionis performed. What we eat, is not turned at once into blood; it isdissolved by something in the stomach, and is turned into somethingwhite like milk, which is called chyle; the chyle passes throughlittle pipes in the body, called lacteals, and into the veins andarteries, and becomes blood. But I don't know how. I will show you theinside of the body of a dead pig: a pig's inside is something likethat of a man. " _Z----_ (same age) when her father had given her an account of a largestone that was thrown to a considerable distance from Mount Vesuviusat the time of an eruption, she asked, how the air could keep a largestone from falling, when it would not support her weight. Z----, (same age) when she was reading the Roman history, was asked, what she thought of the conduct of the wife of Asdrubal. Z---- saidshe did not like her. She was asked why. The first reason Z---- gavefor not liking the lady, was, "that she spoke loud;" the next, "thatshe was unkind to her husband, and killed her children. " We regret (though perhaps our readers may rejoice) that several yearselapsed in which these little notes of the remarks of children werediscontinued. In 1792 the following notes were begun by one of thesame family. (March, '92. ) Mr. ---- saw an Irish giant at Bristol, and when he camehome, Mr. ---- gave his children a description of the giant. Hisheight, he said, was about eight feet. _S----_ (a boy of five yearsold) asked whether this giant had lived much longer than other men. _Father. _ "No; why did you think he had lived longer than other men?" _S----. _ "Because he was so much taller. " _Father. _ "Well. " _S----. _ "And he had so much more time to grow. " _Father. _ "People, after a certain age, do not grow any more. Yoursister M----, and I, and your mother, have not grown any taller sinceyou can remember, have we?" _S----. _ "No; but I have, and B----, and C----. " _Father. _ "Yes; you are children. Whilst people are growing, they arechildren; after they have done growing they are called men and women. " (April, '92. ) At tea-time, to-day, somebody said that hot chocolatescalds worse than hot tea or hot water. Mr. ---- asked his children ifthey could give any reason for this. They were silent. Mr. ----. "If water be made as hot as it can be made, and if chocolatebe made as hot as it can be made, the chocolate will scald you themost. Can you tell me why!" _C----_ (a girl between eight and nine years old. ) "Because there isoil, I believe, in the chocolate; and because it is thicker, and theparts closer together, than in tea or water. " _Father. _ "What you say is true; but you have not explained the reasonyet. Well, _H----_. " _H----_ (a boy between nine and ten. ) "Because there is water in thebubbles. " _Father. _ "Water in the bubbles? I don't understand. Water in whatbubbles?" _H----. _ "I thought I had always seen, when water boils, that thereare a great many little bubbles upon the top. " _Father. _ "Well; but what has that to do with the question I askedyou?" _H----. _ "Because the cold air that was in the bubbles, would cool thewater next them, and then"--(he was quite confused, and stopped. ) _B----_ (a girl of ten or eleven years old) spoke next. "I thoughtthat chocolate was much thicker than water, and there were more parts, and those parts were closer together, and each could hold but acertain quantity of heat; and therefore chocolate could be made hotterthan water. " _Father. _ "That is a good chemical idea. You suppose that thechocolate and tea can be _saturated_ with heat. But you have none ofyou yet told the reason. " The children were all silent. _Father. _ "Can water ever be made hotter than boiling hot?" _B----. _ "No. " _Father. _ "Why?" _B----. _ "I don't know. " _Father. _ "What happens to water when it does what we call _boil_?" _H----. _ "It bubbles, and makes a sort of noise. " _B----. _ "It turns into steam or vapour, I believe. " _Father. _ "All at once?" _B----. _ "No: but what is at the top, first. " _Father. _ "Now you see the reason why water can't be made hotter thanboiling hot: for if a certain degree of heat be applied to it, itchanges into the form of vapour, and flies off. When I was a littleboy, I was once near having a dreadful accident. I had not been taughtthe nature of water, and steam, and heat, and evaporation; and Iwanted to fill a wet hollow stick with melted lead. The moment Ipoured the lead into the stick, the water in the wood turned intovapour suddenly, and the lead was thrown up with great violence to theceiling: my face narrowly escaped. So you see people should know whatthey are about before they meddle with things. --But now as to thechocolate. " No one seemed to have any thing to say about the chocolate. _Father. _ "Water, you know, boils with a certain degree of heat. Willoil, do you think, boil with the same heat?" _C----. _ "I don't understand. " _Father. _ "In the same _degree of heat_ (you must learn to accustomyourself to those words, though they seem difficult to you)--In thesame heat, do you think water or oil would boil the soonest?" None of the children knew. _Father. _ "Water would boil the soonest. More heat is necessary tomake oil boil, or turn into vapour, than to make water evaporate. Doyou know of any thing which is used to _determine_, to _show_, and_mark_, to us the different degrees of heat?" _B----. _ "Yes; a thermometer. " _Father. _ "Yes: thermometer comes from two Greek words, one of whichsignifies heat, and the other measure. Meter, means measure. Thermo_meter_ a measurer of heat; baro_meter_, a measurer of theweight of the air; hygro_meter_, a measurer of moisture. Now, if youremember, on the thermo_meter_ you have seen these words at a certainmark, _the heat of boiling water_. The quicksilver, in a thermometer, rises to that mark when it is exposed to that degree of heat whichwill make the water turn into vapour. Now the degree of heat which isnecessary to make oil evaporate, is not marked on the thermometer; butit requires several degrees more heat to evaporate oil, than isnecessary to evaporate water. --So now you know that chocolate, containing more oil than is contained in tea, it can be made hotterbefore it turns into vapour. " Children may be led to acquire a taste for chemistry by slight hintsin conversation. (July 22d, 1794. ) _Father. _ "S----, can you tell me what is meant by abody's falling?" _S----_ (seven years old. ) "A body's falling, means a body's dying, Ibelieve. " _Father. _ "By _body_, I don't mean a person, but any thing. What ismeant by any thing's falling?" _S----. _ "Coming down from a high place. " _Father. _ "What do you mean by a high place?" _S----. _ "A place higher than places usually are; higher than theground. " _Father. _ "What do you mean by the ground?" _S----. _ "The earth. " _Father. _ "What shape do you think the earth is?" _S----. _ "Round. " _Father. _ "Why do you think it is round?" _S----. _ "Because I have heard a great many people say so. " _Father. _ "The shadow. --It is so difficult to explain to you, my dear, why we think that the earth is round, that I will not attempt it_yet_. " It is better, as we have often observed, to avoid all _imperfect_explanations, which give children confused ideas. (August 18th, 1794. ) Master ---- came to see us, and taught S---- tofish for minnows. It was explained to S----, that fishing with wormsfor baits, tortures the worms. No other argument was used, nosentimental exclamations made upon the occasion; and S---- fished nomore, nor did he ever mention the subject again. Children sometimes appear cruel, when in fact they do not know thatthey give pain to animals. (July 27th, 1794. ) S---- saw a beautiful rainbow, and he said, "I wishI could walk over that fine arch. " This is one of the pleasures of Ariel, and of the Sylphs in the Rapeof the Lock. S---- was not praised for a poetic wish, lest he shouldhave learnt affectation. (September 3d, 1794. ) Mr. ---- attempted to explain to B----, H----, S----, and C----, the nature of insurance, and the day afterwards heasked them to explain it to him. They none of them understood it, except B----, who could not, however, explain it, though she didunderstand it. The terms were all new to them, and they had no shipsto insure. (September 19th. ) At dinner to-day, S---- (seven years old) said tohis sister C----, "What is the name of that man that my father wastalking to, that sounded like Idem, Isdal, or Izard, I believe. ""Izard!" said somebody at table, "that name sounds like Lizard; yes, there is a family of the Lizards in the Guardian. " _S----. _ "A real family?" _Mr. ----. _ "No, my dear: a name given to supposed characters. " _M----. _ "Wasn't it one of the young Lizards who would prove to hismother, when she had just scalded her fingers with boiling water outof the tea-kittle, that there's no more heat in fire that heats you, than pain in the stick that beats you!" _Mr. ----. _ "Yes; I think that character has done harm; it has throwna ridicule upon metaphysical disquisitions. " _Mrs. ----. _ "Are not those lines about the pain in the stick in the'Letter[116] to my Sisters at Crux Easton, ' in Dodsley's poems?" _Mr. ----. _ "Yes; but they come originally from Hudibras, you know. " In slight conversations, such as these, which are not contrived forthe purpose, the curiosity of children is awakened to literature; theysee the use which people make of what they read, and they learn totalk freely about what they meet with in books. What a variety ofthoughts came in a few instants from S----'s question about _Idem_! (November 8th, 1795. ) Mr. ---- read the first chapter of Hugh Trevorto us; which contains the history of a passionate farmer, who was in arage with a goose because it would not eat some oats which he offeredit. He tore off the wings of the animal, and twisted off its neck; hebit off the ear of a pig, because it squealed when he was ringing it;he ran at his apprentice Hugh Trevor with a pitch-fork, because hesuspected that he had drank some milk; the pitch-fork stuck in a door. Hugh Trevor then told the passionate farmer, that the dog Jowler haddrank the milk, but that he would not tell this before, because heknew his master would have hanged the dog. _S----_ admired Hugh Trevor for this extremely. The farmer in his lucid intervals is extremely penitent, but his fitof rage seizes him again one morning when he sees some milk boilingover. He flies at Hugh Trevor, and stabs him with a clasp knife, withwhich he had been cutting bread and cheese; the knife is stopped byhalf a crown which Hugh Trevor had sewed in his waistcoat; _this halfcrown he had found on the highway a few days before_. It was doubted by Miss M. S----, whether this last was a propercircumstance to be told to children, because it might lead them to bedishonest. The evening after Mr. ---- had read the story, he asked S---- torepeat it to him. S---- remembered it, and told it distinctly till hecame to the half crown; at this circumstance he hesitated. He said hedid not know how Hugh Trevor "_came to keep it_, " though he had foundit. He wondered that Hugh Trevor did not ask about it. _Mr. ----_ explained to him, that when a person finds any thing uponthe highway, he should put it in the hand of the public crier, whoshould _cry it_. Mr. ---- was not quite certain whether the propertyfound on the high road, after it has been _cried_ and no ownerappears, belongs to the king, or to the person who finds it. Blackstone's Commentaries were consulted; the passage concerning_Treasuretrove_ was read to S----; it is written in such distinctlanguage, that he understood it completely. Young people may acquire much knowledge by consulting books, at themoment that any interest is excited by conversation upon particularsubjects. Explanations about the _law_ were detailed to S----, because he wasintended for a lawyer. In conversation we may direct the attention ofchildren to what are to be their professional studies, and we mayassociate entertainment and pleasure with the idea of their futureprofession. The story of the passionate farmer in Hugh Trevor was thought to be agood lesson for children of vivacious tempers, as it shows to whatcrimes excess of passion may transport. This man appears an object ofcompassion; all the children felt a mixture of pity and abhorrencewhen they heard the history of his disease. (November 23d, 1795. ) This morning at breakfast Miss ---- observed, that the inside of the cream cover, which was made of black Wedgwood'sware, looked brown and speckled, as if the glazing had been worn away;she asked whether this was caused by the cream. One of the companyimmediately exclaimed, "Oh! I've heard that Wedgwood's ware won't holdoil. " Mr. ---- observed, that it would be best to try the experiment, instead of resting content with this hearsay evidence; he asked H----and S---- what would be the best method of trying the experimentexactly. _S----_ proposed to pour oil into a vessel of Wedgwood's ware, and tomeasure the depth of the oil when first put in; to leave the oil inthe vessel for some time, and then to measure again the depth of theoil. _H----_ said, "I would weigh the Wedgwood's ware vessel; then pour oilinto it, and weigh _it_ (them) again; then I would leave the oil inthe vessel for some time, and afterwards I would pour out the oil, andwould weigh the vessel to see if it had gained any weight; and thenweigh the oil to find out whether it had lost any weight since it wasput into the vessel. " H----'s scheme was approved. A black Wedgwood's ware salt-cellar was weighed in accurate scales; itweighed 1196 grains; 110 grains of oil were poured into it; totalweight of the salt-cellar and oil, 1306 grs. Six months afterwards, the salt-cellar was produced to the children, who were astonished tosee that the oil had disappeared. The lady, who had first assertedthat Wedgwood's ware would not hold oil, was inclined to believe thatthe oil had oozed through the pores of the salt-cellar; but the littlespectators thought it was more probable that the oil might have beenaccidentally spilled; the salt-cellar weighed as before 1196 grains. The experiment was repeated, and this time it was resolved to lock upthe salt-cellar, that it might not again be thrown down. (April 14th, 1796. ) Into the same salt-cellar 100 grains weight ofoil was poured (total weight 1296 grains. ) The salt-cellar was put ona saucer, and covered with a glass tumbler. (June 3d, 1796. ) Mr. ----weighed the salt-cellar, and found that with the oil it weighedprecisely the same as before, 1296 grains; without the oil, 1196grains, its original weight: therefore it was clear that theWedgwood's ware had neither imbibed the oil, nor let it pass throughits pores. This little experiment has not been thus minutely told forphilosophers, but for children; however trivial the subject, it isuseful to teach children early to try experiments. Even the weighingand calculating in this experiment, amused them, and gave some ideasof the exactness necessary to prove any fact. (Dec. 1st, 1795. ) _S----_ (8 years old) in reading Gay's fable of "thepainter who pleased every body and nobody, " was delighted to hear thatthe painter put his pallet upon his thumb, because _S----_ had seen alittle pallet of his sister _A----'s_, which she used to put on herthumb. _S----_ had been much amused by this, and he was very fond ofthis sister, who had been absent for some time. Association makesslight circumstances agreeable to children; if we do not know theseassociations, we are surprised at their expressions of delight. It isuseful to trace them. (Vide Chap. On Imagination. ) _S----_ seemed puzzled when he read that the painter "dipped hispencil, talked of _Greece_. " "Why did he talk of Greece?" said _S----_with a look of astonishment. Upon inquiry, it was found that _S----_mistook the word _Greece_ for _Grease_! It was explained to him, that Grecian statues and Grecian figures aregenerally thought to be particularly graceful and well executed; that, therefore, painters attend to them. (Dec. 1st, 1795. ) After dinner to-day, _S----_ was looking at a littleblack toothpick-case of his father's; his father asked him if he knewwhat it was made of. The children guessed different things; wood, horn, bone, paper, pasteboard, glue. Mr. ----. "Instead of examining the toothpick-case, _S----_, you holdit in your hand, and turn your eyes away from it, that you may thinkthe better. Now, when I want to find out any thing about a particularobject, I keep my eye fixed upon it. Observe the texture of thattoothpick-case, if you want to know the materials of which it is made;look at the edges, feel it. " _S----. _ "May I smell it?" _Mr. ----. _ "Oh yes. You may use all your senses. " _S----_ (feeling the toothpick-case, smelling it, and looking closelyat it. ) "It is black, and smooth, and strong and light. What is, letme see, both strong and light, and it will bend--parchment. " _Mr. ----. _ "That is a good guess; but you are not quite right yet. What is parchment? I think by your look that you don't know. " _S----. _ "Is it not paper pasted together?" _Mr. ----. _ "No; I thought you mistook pasteboard for parchment. " _S----. _ "Is parchment skin?" _Mr. ----. _ "Of what?" _S----. _ "Animals. " _Mr. ----. _ "What animal?" _S----. _ "I don't know. " _Mr. ----. _ "Parchment is the skin of sheep. " "But _S----_, don't keep the toothpick-case in your hand, push itround the table to your neighbours, that every body may look againbefore they guess. I think, for certain reasons of my own, that_H----_ will guess right. " _H----. _ "Oh I know what it is now!" _H----_ had lately made a pump, the piston of which was made ofleather; the leather had been wetted, and then forced through a mouldof the proper size. _H----_ recollected this, as _Mr. ----_ thought hewould, and guessed that the case might have been made of leather, andby a similar process. _S----. _ "Is it made of the skin of some animal?" _Mr. ----. _ "Yes; but what do you mean by the skin of some animal?What do you call it?" _S----_ (laughing. ) "Oh, leather! leather!" _H----. _ "Yes, it's made the same way that the piston of my pump ismade, I suppose. " _M----. _ "Could not shoes be made in the same manner in a mould?" _Mr. ----. _ "Yes; but there would be one disadvantage; the shoes wouldlose their shape as soon as they were wet; and the sole and upperleather must be nearly of the same thickness. " _S----. _ "Is the tookpick-case made out of any particular kind ofleather? I wish I could make one!" _M----. _ "You have a bit of green leather, will you give it to me?I'll punch it out like _H_'s piston; but I don't exactly know how thetoothpick-case was made into the right shape. " _Mr. ----. _ "It was made in the same manner in which silverpencil-cases and thimbles are made. If you take a thin piece ofsilver, or of any ductile material, and lay it over a concave mould, you can readily imagine that you can make the thin, ductile materialtake the shape of any mould into which you put it; and you may go onforcing it into moulds of different depths, till at last the plate ofsilver will have been shaped into a cylindrical form; a thimble, apencil-case, a toothpick-case, or any similar figure. " We have observed (V. Mechanics) that children should have some generalidea of mechanics before they go into the large manufactories; thiscan be given to them from time to time in conversation, when littlecircumstances occur, which _naturally_ lead to the subject. (November 30th, 1795. ) _S----_ said he liked the beginning of Gay'sfable of "The man and the flea, " very much, but he could not tell whatwas meant by the crab's crawling beside the _coral grove_, and hearingthe ocean roll _above_. "The ocean cannot roll _above_, can itmother?" _Mother. _ "Yes, when the animal is crawling below he hears the waterrolling above him. " _M----. _ "Coral groves mean the branches of coral which look liketrees; you saw some at Bristol in Mr. B----'s collection. " The difficulty _S----_ found in understanding "coral groves, " confirmswhat has been observed, that children should never read poetry withoutits being thoroughly explained to them. (Vide Chapter on Books. ) (January 10th, 1795. ) _S----_ (8 years old) said that he had beenthinking about the wind; and he believed that it was the earth'sturning round that made the wind. _M----. _ "Then how comes it that the wind does not blow always thesame way?" _S----. _ "Aye, that's the thing I can't make out; besides, perhaps theair would stick to the earth as it turns round, as threads stick to myspinning top, and go round with it. " (January 4th, 1795. ) As we were talking of the king of Poland's littledwarf, S---- recollected by contrast the Irish giant whom he had seenat Bristol. "I liked the Irish giant very much, because, " said S----, "though he was so large, he was not surly; and when my father askedhim to take out his shoe-buckle to try whether it would cover my foot, he did not seem in a hurry to do it. I suppose he did not wish to showhow little I was. " Children are nice observers of that kind of politeness which arisesfrom good nature; they may hence learn what really pleases in manners, without being taught grimace. Dwarfs and giants led us to Gulliver's Travels. S---- had never readthem, but one of the company now gave him some general account ofLilliput and Brobdignag. He thought the account of the little peoplemore entertaining than that of the large ones; the carriage ofGulliver's hat by a team of Lilliputian horses, diverted him; but, when he was told that the queen of Brobdignag's dwarf stuck Gulliverone day at dinner into a marrow bone, S---- looked grave, and seemedrather shocked than amused; he said, "It must have almost suffocatedpoor Gulliver, and must have spoiled his clothes. " S---- wondered ofwhat cloth they could make him new clothes, because the cloth inBrobdignag must have been too thick, and as thick as a board. He alsowished to know what sort of glass was used to glaze the windows inGulliver's wooden house; "because, " said he, "their common glass musthave been so thick that it would not have been transparent toGulliver. " He thought that Gulliver must have been extremely afraid ofsetting his small wooden house on fire. _M----. _ "Why more afraid than we are? His house was as large forGulliver as our house is for us. " _S----. _ "Yes, but what makes the fire must have been _so much_larger! One cinder, one spark of theirs would have filled his littlegrate. And how did he do to read their books?" _S----_ was told that Gulliver stood at the topmost line of the page, and ran along as fast as he read, till he got to the bottom of thepage. It was suggested, that Gulliver might have used a diminishingglass. S----immediately exclaimed, "How entertaining it must have beento him to look through their telescopes. " An instance of inventionarising from _contrast_. If the conversation had not here been interrupted, S---- wouldprobably have invented a greater variety of pleasures and difficultiesfor Gulliver; his eagerness to read Gulliver's Travels, was increasedby this conversation. We should let children exercise their inventionupon all subjects, and not tell them the whole of every thing, and allthe ingenious parts of a story. Sometimes they invent these, and arethen interested to see how the _real_ author has managed them. Thuschildren's love for literature may be increased, and the activity oftheir minds may be exercised. "Le secret d'ennuyer, " says anauthor[117] who never tires us, "Le secret d'ennuyer est celui detout dire. " This may be applied to the art of education. (V. Attention, Memory, and Invention. ) (January 17th, 1796. ) S----. "I don't understand about the tides. " _H----_ (13 years old. ) "The moon, when it comes near the earth, drawsup the sea by the middle; attracts it, and as the middle rises, thewater runs down from that again into the channels of rivers. " _S----. _ "But--Hum!--the moon attracts the sea; but why does not thesun attract it by the middle as well as the moon? How can you be surethat it is the moon that does it?" _Mr. ----. _ "We are not sure that the moon is the cause of tides. " We should never force any system upon the belief of children; but waittill they can understand all the arguments on each side of thequestion. (January 18th, 1796. ) S---- (9 years old. ) "Father, I have thought ofa reason for the wind's blowing. When there has been a hot sunshiny day, and when the ground has beenwet, the sun attracts a great deal of vapour: then _that_ vapour musthave room, so it must push away some air to make room for itself;besides, vapour swells with heat, so it must have a _great_, _great_deal of room as it grows hotter, and hotter; and the moving the air tomake way for it, must make wind. " It is probable, that if children are not early taught by rote wordswhich they cannot understand, they will _think_ for themselves; and, however strange their incipient theories may appear, there is hope forthe improvement of children as long as their minds are active. (February 13th, 1796. ) S----. "How do physicians try new medicines? Ifthey are not sure they will succeed, they may be hanged for murder, mayn't they? It is cruel to try _them_ (_them_ meant medicines) onanimals; besides, all animals are not the same as men. A pig's insideis the most like that of a man. I remember my father showed us theinside of a pig once. " Some time afterwards, S---- inquired what was meant by the circulationof the blood. "How are we sure that it does move? You told me that itdoesn't move after we die, then nobody can have seen it really movingin the veins; that beating that I feel in my pulse does not feel likeany thing running backwards and forwards; it beats up and down. " The lady to whom S---- addressed these questions and observations, unfortunately could not give him any information upon this subject, but she had at least the prudence, or honesty, to tell the boy that"she did not know any thing about the matter. " S---- should have been shown the circulation of the blood in fishes:which he might have seen by a microscope. Children's minds turn to such inquiries; surely, if they are intendedfor physicians, these are the moments to give them a taste for theirfuture profession, by associating pleasure with instruction, andconnecting with the eagerness of curiosity the hope of makingdiscoveries; a hope which all vivacious young people strongly feel. (February 16th. ) S---- objected to that fable of Phædrus in which itis said, that a boy threw a stone at Æsop, and that Æsop told the boyto throw a stone at another passenger, pointing to a rich man. The boydid as Æsop desired, and the rich man had the boy hanged. S---- said, that he thought that Æsop should have been hanged, becauseÆsop was the cause of the boy's fault. How little suited _political_ fables are to children. This fable, which was meant to show, we suppose, that the _rich_ could not, likethe poor, be insulted with impunity, was quite unintelligible to a boy(nine years old) of _simple_ understanding. (July 19th, 1796. ) Amongst "_Vulgar errours_, " Sir Thomas Brownemight have mentioned the common notion, that if you take a hen andhold her head down to the ground, and draw a circle of chalk roundher, she will be enchanted by this magical operation so that shecannot stir. We determined to try the experiment, for which Dr. Johnson would have laughed at us, as he laughed at Browne[118] fortrying "_the hopeless experiment_" about the magnetic dials. A hen's head was held down upon a stone flag, and a chalk line wasdrawn before her; she did not move. The same hen was put into a circleof chalk that had been previously drawn for her reception; her headwas held down according to the letter of the charm, and she did notmove; line or circle apparently operated alike. It was suggested (byA----) that perhaps the hen was frightened by her head's being helddown to the ground, and that the chalk line and circle had nothing todo with the business. The hen was carried out of sight of the magicline and circle, her head was held down to the ground as before; andwhen the person who had held her, gently withdrew his hand, she didnot move. She did not for some instants recover from her terror; or, perhaps, the feeling of pressure seemed to her to remain upon her headafter the hand was withdrawn. Children who are accustomed to _doubt_, and to try experiments, willnot be dupes to "Vulgar errours. " (July 20th, 1796. ) S---- (between 9 and 10) when he heard a ladypropose to make use of a small glass tumbler to hold pomatum, made aface expressive of great disgust; he was begged to give a reason forhis dislike. S---- said it appeared to him dirty and disagreeable toput pomatum into a tumbler out of which we are used to drink wine orwater. We have observed, (V. Chapter on Taste and Imagination) that childrenmay early be led to reflect upon the cause of their tastes. (July 24th, 1796. ) S---- observed, that "the lachrymal sack is likeAboulcasem's cup, (in the Persian tales. ) It is emptied and fillsagain of itself; though it is emptied ever so often, it continuesfull. " The power of reasoning had been more cultivated in S---- than thetaste for wit or allusion; yet it seems his mind was not defective inthat quickness of seizing resemblances which _may_ lead to wit. He wasnot praised for the lachrymal sack, and Aboulcasem's cup. (V. Chapteron Wit and Judgment. ) (August 3d, 1796. ) C---- (11 years old) after she had heard adescription of a fire engine, said, "I want to read the description ofthe fire engine over again, for whilst my father was describing oneparticular part, I recollected something that I had heard before, and_that_ took my attention quite away from what he was saying. Veryoften when I am listening, something that is said puts me in mind ofsomething, and then I go on thinking of _that_, and I cannot hear whatis said any longer. " Preceptors should listen to the observations that their pupils makeupon their minds; this remark of C----suggested to us some ideas thathave been detailed in the "Chapter on Attention. " (August 1st, 1796. ) S----, who had been translating some of Ovid'sMetamorphoses to his father, exclaimed, "I hate those ancient gods andgoddesses, they are so wicked! I wish I was Perseus, and had hisshield, I would fly up to heaven and turn Jupiter, and Apollo, andVenus into stone; then they would be too heavy to stay in heaven, andthey would tumble down to earth; and then they would be stone statues, and we should have much finer statues of Apollo and Venus than anythey have now at Rome. " (September 10th, 1796. ) S---- (within a month of ten years old) readto his sister M---- part of Dr. Darwin's chapter upon instinct; thatpart in which there is an account of young birds who learn to singfrom the birds who take care of them, not from their parents. S----immediately recollected a story which he had read last winter in theAnnual Register. Extract from Barrington's Remarks upon singingBirds. "There was a silly boy once (you know, sister, boys are sillysometimes) who used to play in a room where his mother had anightingale in a cage, and the boy took out of the cage thenightingale's eggs, and put in some other bird's eggs (a swallow's, Ithink) and the nightingale hatched them, and when the swallows grew upthey sang like nightingales. " When S---- had done reading, he lookedat the title of the book. He had often heard his father speak ofZoonomia, and he knew that Dr. Darwin was the author of it. _S----. _ "Oh, ho! Zoonomia! Dr. Darwin wrote it; it is veryentertaining: my father told me that when I read Zoonomia, I shouldknow the reason why I stretch myself when I am tired. But, sister, there is one thing I read about the cuckoo that I did not quiteunderstand. May I look at it again?" He read the following passage. "For a hen teaches this language with ease to the ducklings she hashatched from supposititious eggs, and educates as her own offspring;and the wag-tails or hedge-sparrows learn it from the young cuckoo, their foster nursling, and supply him with food long after he can flyabout, whenever they hear his cuckooing, which Linnæus tells us is hiscall of hunger. " _S----_ asked what Dr. Darwin meant by "learns _it_. " _M----. _ "Learns a language. " _S----. _ "What does foster nursling mean?" _M----. _ "It here means a bird that is nursed along with another, butthat has not the same parents. " _S----. _ "Then, does it not mean that the sparrows learn from theirfoster sister, the cuckoo, to say Cuckoo!" _M----. _ "No; the sparrow don't learn to say cuckoo, but they learn tounderstand what he means by that cry; that he is hungry. " _S----. _ "Well, but then I think this is a proof against what Dr. Darwin means about instinct. " _M----. _ "Why? How?" _S----. _ "Because the young cuckoo does say cuckoo! without beingtaught, it does not learn from the sparrows. How comes it to saycuckoo at all, if it is not by instinct? It does not see its ownfather and mother. " We give this conversation as a proof that our young pupils wereaccustomed to _think_ about every thing that they read. (Nov. 8th, 1796. ) The following are the "_Curiosities of Literature_, "which were promised to the reader in the chapter upon Grammar andClassical Literature. Translation from Ovid. The Cave of Sleep, _first_ edition. "No watchful cock Aurora's beams invite; No dog nor goose, the guardians of the night. " _Dog_ and _goose_ were objected to, and the young author changed theminto dogs and geese. "No herds nor flocks, nor human voice is heard; But nigh the cave a _rustling_ spring appear'd. " When this line was read to S----, he changed the epithet _rustling_into _gliding_. "And with soft murmurs faithless sleep invites, And there the flying past again delights; And near the door the noxious poppy grows, And spreads his sleepy milk at daylight's close. " S---- was now requested to translate the beginning of the sentence, and he produced these lines: "Far from the sun there lies a cave forlorn, Which Sol's bright beams _can't_ enter eve nor morn. " _Can't_ was objected to. Mr. ---- asked S---- what was the literalEnglish. S---- first said _not_, and then _nor_; and he corrected hisline, and made it "Which Sol's bright beams _nor_ visit eve nor morn. " Afterwards: "Far in a vale there lies a cave forlorn, Which Phoebus never enters eve nor morn. " After an interval of a few days, the lines were all read to the boy, to try whether he could farther correct them; he desired to have thetwo following lines left out: "No herds, nor flocks, nor human voice is heard, But nigh the cave a gliding spring appeared. " And in the place of them he wrote, "No flocks nor herds disturb the silent plains: Within the sacred walls mute quiet reigns. " Instead of the two following: "And with soft murmurs faithless sleep invites, And there the flying past again delights. " S---- desired his _secretary_ to write, "But murmuring Lethe soothing sleep invites, In dreams again the flying past delights. " Instead of "And near the doors the noxious poppy grows, And spreads his sleepy milk at daylight's close, " the following lines were written. S---- did not say _doors_, becausehe thought the cave had no doors; yet his Latin, he said, spoke ofsqueaking hinges. "From milky flowers that near the cavern grow, Night scatters the collected sleep below. " We shall not make any further apology for inserting all thesecorrections, because we have already sufficiently explained ourmotives. (V. Chapter on Grammar and Classical Literature. ) (February, 1797. ) A little theatre was put up for the children, andthey acted "Justice Poz. "[119] When the scenes were pulled downafterwards, S---- was extremely sorry to see the whole theatre vanish;he had succeeded as an actor, and he wished to have another playacted. His father did not wish that he should become ambitious ofexcelling in this way at ten years old, because it might have turnedhis attention away from things of more consequence; and, if he hadbeen much applauded for this talent, he would, perhaps, have beenover-stimulated. (V. Chapter on Vanity and Ambition. ) The way to turn this boy's mind away from its present pursuit, was togive him another object, not to blame or check him for the naturalexpression of his wishes. It is difficult to find objects for childrenwho have not cultivated a taste for literature; but infinite varietycan be found for those who have acquired this happy taste. Soon after S---- had expressed his ardent wish to have another playperformed, the trial of some poor man in the neighbourhood happened tobe mentioned; and it was said, that the criminal had the choice ofeither going to Botany Bay, or being hanged. S---- asked how that could be. "I did'nt think, " said he, "that a mancould have two punishments. Can the judge change the punishment? Ithought it was fixed by the law. " Mr. ---- told S---- that these were sensible questions; and, as he sawthat the boy's attention was fixed, he seized the opportunity to givehim some general idea upon the subject. He began with telling S----themanner in which a suspected person is brought before a justice of thepeace. A warrant and committal were described; then the manner oftrying criminals; what is called the court, the jury, &c. The crier ofthe court, and the forms of a trial; the reason why the prisoner, whenhe is asked how he will be tried, answers, "By God and my country:"this led to an account of the old absurd fire and water ordeals, andthence the advantages of a trial by jury became more apparent bycomparison. Mr. ---- told S---- why it is called _empannelling_ ajury, and why the jury are called a _pannel_; the manner in which thejury give their verdict; the duty of the judge, to sum up theevidence, to explain the law to the jury. "The judge is, by thehumane laws of England, always supposed to be the protector of theaccused; and now, S----, we are come round to your question; the judgecannot make the punishment more severe; but when the punishment isfine or imprisonment, the quantity or duration of the punishment isleft to his judgment. The king may remit the punishment entirely; hemay pardon the criminal; he may, if a man be sentenced to be hanged, give him his choice, whether he will be hanged or _transported_"--(theword was explained. ) "But, " said S----, "since the judge cannot _change_ the punishment, why may the king? I think it is very unjust that the king should havesuch a power, because, if he changes the punishment for one thing, whymayn't he for another and another, and so on?" Mr. ----. "I am inclined to believe, my dear S----, that it is for thegood of a state, that a king should have such a power; but I am notsure. If any individual should have this power, I think it is mostsafely trusted to a king; because, as he has no connection with theindividuals who are tried, as he does not live amongst them, he is notso liable as judges and jurymen might be to be prejudiced, to beinfluenced by personal revenge, friendship, or pity. When he pardons, he is supposed to pardon without any personal motives. But of allthis, S----, you will judge for yourself, when you study the law. Iintend to take you with me to ---- next assizes to hear a trial. " S---- looked full as eager to hear a trial, as he had done, half anhour before, to act a play. We should mention, that in the little playin which he had acted, he had played the part of a justice of thepeace, and a sort of trial formed the business of the play; the ideasof trials and law, therefore, joined readily with his former train ofthought. Much of the success of education, depends upon thepreceptor's seizing these slight connections. It is scarcely possibleto explain this fully in writing. (February 25th, 1797. ) S---- was reading in "Evenings at Home, " thestory of "A friend in need, is a friend indeed. " "Mr. G. Cornish, having raised a moderate fortune, and being nowbeyond the meridian of life, he felt a _strong desire_ of returning tohis native country. " S----. "How much better that is, than to say he felt an _irresistibledesire_, or an _insupportable desire_, as people sometimes say inbooks. " Our pupils were always permitted to stop when they were reading loud, to make whatever remarks they pleased upon whatever books they read. They did not, by this method, get through so many books as otherchildren of their age usually do; but their taste for reading seemedto increase rapidly. (V. Books. ) (March 8th, 1797. ) H---- (14) told us that he remembered seeing, whenhe was five years old, some puppets packed up by a showman in atriangular box; "and for sometime afterwards, " said H----, "when I sawmy father's triangular hat-box, I expected puppets to come out of it. A few days ago, I met a man with a triangular box upon his head, and Ithought that there were puppets in the box. " We have taken notice of this propensity in children, to believe thatparticular, are general causes; and we have endeavoured to show how itaffects the temper, and the habits of reasoning. (V. Temper, and Witand Judgment. ) (March 27th, 1797. ) Mr. ---- showed little W----(3 years old) a watch, and asked him if he thought that it was alive. _W----. _ "Yes. " _Mr. ----. _ "Do you think that the fire is alive?" _W----. _ "Yes. " _Mr. ----. _ (The child was standing at the tea table. ) "Do you thinkthe urn is alive?" _W----. _ "No. " _Mr. ----. _ "Do you think that book is alive?" _W----. _ "No. " _Mr. ----. _ "The horses?" _W----. _ "Yes. " _Mr. ----. _ "Do you think that the chaise is alive?" _W----. _ "Yes. " Then, after looking in Mr. ----'s face, he changed hisopinion, and said _no_. _W----_ did not seem to know what was meant by the word _alive_. Mr. ---- called H. (5 years old) and asked her whether she thoughtthat the watch was alive. She at first said Yes; but, as soon as shehad time to recollect herself, she said that the watch was not alive. This question was asked, to try whether Reid was right in hisconjecture as to the answers a child would give to such a question. (V. Reid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man. ) We frequently say, that flowers, &c. Are dead: we should explain tochildren that there are two kinds of life; or rather, that the word_life_ is used to express two ideas; vegetable life, and animal life. (July, 1797. ) Miss Louisa ---- told us, that when a rose bud begins towither, if you burn the end of the stalk, and plunge it red hot intowater, the rose will be found revived the next day; and by arepetition of this burning, the lives of flowers may be fortunatelyprolonged many days. Miss Louisa ---- had seen many surprisingrecoveries performed by this operation, and several of her friends hadadopted the practice with uniform success. We determined to repeat the experiment. Children should never take anything upon trust which they can verify. Two roses, gathered at thesame time, from the same tree, were put into separate glasses ofwater. The stalk of one of these roses was burnt, according toprescription; they were left a night in water, and the next day therose that had been burnt, appeared in much better health than thatwhich had not been burnt. The experiment was afterwards several timesrepeated; and should be tried by others until the fact be fullyascertained. (July, 1797. ) Little W---- (three years old) was shown Miss B----'sbeautiful copy of the Aurora surgens of Guido. The car of Apollo isencircled by the dancing hours, so that its shape is not seen; part ofone wheel only is visible between the robes of the dancing figures. Weasked little W---- why that man (pointing to the figure of Apollo inhis invisible car) looked so much higher up in the air than the otherpeople? _W----. _ "Because he is in a carriage; he is sitting in a carriage. " We pointed to the imperfect wheel, and asked if he knew what that was?He immediately answered, "Yes, the wheel of the carriage. " We wantedto see whether the imagination of a child of three years old, wouldsupply the invisible parts of the _car_: and whether the wheel andhorses, and man holding the reins, would suggest the idea of a phæton. (V. Chapter on Taste and Imagination. ) We shall not trespass upon the reader's patience with any moreanecdotes from the nursery. We hope, that candid and intelligentparents will pardon, if they have discovered any desire in us to_exhibit_ our pupils. We may mistake our own motives, and we do notpretend to be perfectly impartial judges upon this occasion; but wehave hoped, that only such conversations or anecdotes have beenproduced, as may be of some use in Practical Education. Fromconversation, if properly managed, children may learn with ease, expedition, and delight, a variety of knowledge; and a skilfulpreceptor can apply in conversation all the principles that we havelaboriously endeavoured to make intelligible. FOOTNOTES: [113] Mrs. Honora Edgeworth, daughter of Edward Sneyd, Esq. OfLitchfield. As this lady's name has been mentioned in a monody on thedeath of Major André, we take this opportunity of correcting a mistakethat occurs in a note to that performance. "Till busy rumour chas'd each pleasing dream, And quench'd theradiance of the silver beam. " _Monody on Major André. _ The note on these lines is as follows: "The tidings of Honora's marriage. Upon that event Mr. André quittedhis profession as a merchant, and joined our army in America. " Miss Honora Sneyd was married to Mr. Edgeworth in July, 1773, and thedate of Major André's first commission in the Welch Fusileers is March4th, 1771. [114] This has been formerly quoted in the preface to the Parent'sAssistant. [115] The anecdotes mentioned in the _preceding_ pages, were read tothe children with the rest of the work. [116] Soame Jennings's. [117] Voltaire. [118] V. Johnson's Life of Browne. [119] Parent's Assistant. THE END.