A PRACTICAL ENQUIRY INTO THE PHILOSOPHY OF EDUCATION. BY JAMES GALL, INVENTOR OF THE TRIANGULAR ALPHABET FOR THE BLIND; AND AUTHOR OF THE "END AND ESSENCE OF SABBATH SCHOOL TEACHING, " &c. "_The Works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein. _"--PSAL. Cxi. 2. EDINBURGH: JAMES GALL & SON, 24, NIDDRY STREET. LONDON: HOULSTON & STONEMAN, 65, PATERNOSTER-ROW. GLASGOW; GEORGE GALLIE. BELFAST: WILLIAM M'COMB. MDCCCXL Printed by J. Gall & Son. 22, Niddry Street. PREFACE. The Author of the following pages is a plain man, who has endeavoured towrite a plain book, for the purpose of being popularly useful. Thephilosophical form which his enquiries have assumed, is the resultrather of accidental circumstances than of free choice. The strongdesire which he felt in his earlier years to benefit the Young, inducedhim to push forward in the paths which appeared to him most likely tolead to his object; and it was not till he had advanced far into thefields of philosophy, that he first began dimly to perceive theimportance of the ground which he had unwittingly occupied. The truthis, that he had laboured many years in the Sabbath Schools with which hehad connected himself, before he was aware that, in his combat withignorance, he was wielding weapons that were comparatively new; and itwas still longer, before he very clearly understood the principles ofthose Exercises which he found so successful. One investigation led toanother; light shone out as he proceeded; and he now submits, with fullconfidence in the truth of his general principles and deductions, theresults of more than thirty years' experience and reflection in thegreat cause of Education. He has only further to observe, that the term "NATURE, " whichoccurs so frequently, has been adopted as a convenient and popular modeof expression. None of his readers needs to be informed, that this isbut another manner of designating "THE GOD OF NATURE, " whoselaws, as established in the young mind, he has been endeavouring humbly, and perseveringly to imitate. _Myrtle Bank, Trinity, Edinburgh, 8th May, 1840. _ CONTENTS PART I. ON THE PRELIMINARY OBJECTS NECESSARY FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT AND IMPROVEMENT OF EDUCATION. CHAP. I. Page On the Importance of establishing the Science of Education on a solid Foundation, 13 CHAP. II. On the Cultivation of Education as a Science, 16 CHAP. III. On the Improvement of Teaching as an Art, 25 CHAP. IV. On the Establishment of Sound Principles in Education, 32 PART II. ON THE GREAT DESIGN OF NATURE'S TEACHING, AND THE METHODS SHE EMPLOYS IN CARRYING IT ON. CHAP. I. A Comprehensive View of the several Educational Processes carried on by Nature, 37 CHAP. II. On the Method employed by Nature for cultivating the Powers of the Mind, 45 CHAP. III. On the Means by which Nature enables her Pupils to acquire Knowledge, 52 CHAP. IV. On Nature's Method of communicating Knowledge to the Young by the Principle of Reiteration, 56 CHAP. V. On the Acquisition of Knowledge by the Principle of Individuation, 65 CHAP. VI. On the Acquisition of Knowledge by the Principle of Association, or Grouping, 72 CHAP. VII. On the Acquisition of Knowledge by the Principle of Analysis, or Classification, 83 CHAP. VIII. On Nature's Methods of Teaching her Pupils to make use of their Knowledge, 95 CHAP. IX. On Nature's Methods of Applying Knowledge by the Principle of the Animal, or Common Sense, 101 CHAP. X. On Nature's Method of applying Knowledge, by means of the Moral Sense, or Conscience, 111 CHAP. XI. On Nature's Method of Training her Pupils to Communicate their Knowledge, 129 CHAP. XII. Recapitulation of the Philosophical Principles developed in the previous Chapters, 141 PART III. ON THE METHODS BY WHICH THE EDUCATIONAL PROCESSES OF NATURE MAY BE SUCCESSFULLY IMITATED. CHAP. I. On the Exercises by which Nature may be imitated in cultivating the Powers of the Mind, 148 CHAP. II. On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in the Pupil's Acquisition of Knowledge; with a Review of the Analogy between the Mental and Physical Appetites of the Young, 170 CHAP. III. How Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge to the Pupil, by the Reiteration of Ideas, 177 CHAP. IV. On the Means by which Nature may be imitated in Exercising the Principle of Individuation, 192 CHAP. V. On the Means by which Nature may be imitated in Applying the Principle of Grouping, or Association, 204 CHAP. VI. On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge by Classification, or Analysis, 218 CHAP. VII. On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Practical Use of Knowledge, 233 CHAP. VIII. On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Use of Knowledge by Means of the Animal, or Common Sense, 245 CHAP. IX. On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Practical Use of Knowledge by means of the Moral Sense, or Conscience, 257 CHAP. X. On the Application of our Knowledge to the Common Affairs of Life, 274 CHAP. XI. On the Imitation of Nature, in training her Pupils fluently to communicate their Knowledge, 288 PART IV. ON THE SELECTION OF PROPER TRUTHS AND SUBJECTS TO BE TAUGHT IN SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES. CHAP. I. On the General Principles which ought to regulate our choice of Truths and Subjects to be taught to the Young, 306 CHAP II. On the particular Branches of Education required for Elementary Schools, 317 CHAP. III. On the Easiest Methods of Introducing these Principles, for the first time, into Schools already established, 326 Notes, 331 PRACTICAL ENQUIRY, &c. PART I. ON THE PRELIMINARY OBJECTS NECESSARY FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT AND IMPROVEMENT OF EDUCATION. CHAP. I. _On the Importance of establishing the Science of Education on a solid Foundation. _ Education is at present obviously in a transition state. The public mindhas of late become alive to the importance of the subject; and allpersons are beginning to feel awake to the truth, that something is yetwanting to insure efficiency and permanence to the labours of theteacher. The public will not be satisfied till some decided change hastaken place; and many are endeavouring to grope their way to somethingbetter. It is with an earnest desire to help forward this greatmovement, that the writer of the following pages has been induced topublish the result of much study, and upwards of thirty years'experience, in the hope that it may afford at least some assistance indirecting the enquiries of those who are prosecuting the same object. On entering upon this investigation, it will be of use to keep in mind, that all the sciences have, at particular periods of their history, beenin the same uncertain and unsettled position, as that which Education atpresent occupies; and that each of them has in its turn, had to passthrough an ordeal, similar to that which education is about to undergo. They have triumphantly succeeded; and their subsequent rapidadvancement is the best proof that they are now placed on a solid andpermanent foundation. It is of importance, therefore, in attempting toforward the science of education, that we should profit by theexperience of those who have gone before us. They succeeded by a strictobservation of facts, and a stern rejection of every species of meresupposition and opinion;--by an uncompromising hostility to prejudiceand selfishness, and a fearless admission of truth wherever it wasdiscovered. Such must be the conduct of the Educationist, if he expectsto succeed in an equal degree. The history of astronomy as taught byastrologers, and of chemistry in the hands of the alchymist, shouldteach both the lovers and the fearers of change an important lesson. These pretended sciences being mere conjectures, were of use to nobody;and yet the boldness with which they were promulgated, and theconfidence with which they were received, had the effect of suppressingenquiry, and shutting out the truth for several generations. Similar maybe the effects of errors in education, and similar the danger of tooeasily admitting them. The adoption of plausible theories, or oferroneous principles, must lead into innumerable difficulties; andshould they be hastily patronized, and authoritatively promulgated, theimprovement of this first and most important of the sciences may beretarded for a century to come. The other sciences, during the last half century, have advanced withamazing rapidity. This has been the result of a strict adherence to wellestablished facts, and their legitimate inferences. --A docile subjectionof the mind to the results of experiment, and a candid confession andabandonment of fallacies, have characterized every benefactor of thesciences;--and the science of education must be advanced by an adherenceto the same principles. The Educationist must be willing to abandonerror, as well as to receive truth; and must resolutely shake off allconjecture and opinions not founded on fair and appropriate experiment. This course may appear tedious;--but it is the shortest and the best. Bythis mode of induction, all the facts which he is able to glean willassuredly be found to harmonize with nature, with reason, and withScripture; and with these for his supporters, the Reformer in educationhas nothing to fear. His progress may be slow, but it will be sure; forevery principle which he thus discovers, will enable him, not only tooutrun his neighbours, but to confer a permanent and valuable boon uponposterity. That any rational and accountable being should ever have been found tooppose the progress of truth, is truly humiliating; yet every page ofhistory, which records the developement of new principles, exhibits alsothe outbreakings of prejudice and selfishness. The deductions ofGalileo, of Newton, of Harvey, and innumerable others, have been opposedand denounced, each in its turn; while their promoters have beenvilified as empyrics or innovators. Nor has this been done by those onlywhose self love or worldly interests prompted them to exclude the truth, but by good and honourable men, whose prejudices were strong, and whosezeal was not guided by discretion. Such persons have frequently beenfound to shut their eyes against the plainest truths, to wrestle withtheir own convictions, and positively refuse even to listen to evidence. The same thing may happen with regard to education;--and this is nopleasing prospect to the lover of peace, who sets himself forward as areformer in this noble work. --Change is inevitable. Teaching is an art;and it must, like all the other arts, depend for its improvement uponthe investigations of science. Now, every one knows, that although thecultivation of chemistry, and other branches of natural science, has, oflate years, given an extraordinary stimulus to the arts, yet the scienceof education, from which the art of teaching can alone derive itspower, is one, beyond the threshold of which modern philosophy hasscarcely entered. Changes, therefore, both in the theory and practice ofteaching, may be anticipated;--and that these changes will beinconvenient and annoying to many, there can be no doubt. Thatindividuals, in these circumstances, should be inclined to deprecate andoppose these innovations and improvements, is nothing more than might beexpected; but that the improvements themselves should on that account beeither postponed or abandoned, would be highly injurious. An enlightenedsystem of education is peculiarly the property of the public, on whichboth personal, family, and national happiness in a great measuredepends. These interests therefore must not be sacrificed to the wishesor the convenience of private individuals. The prosperity and happinessof mankind are at stake; and the welfare of succeeding generations will, in no small degree, be influenced by the establishment of soundprinciples in education at the present time. Nothing, therefore, shouldbe allowed to mystify or cripple that science, upon which the spread andthe permanence of all useful knowledge mainly rest. CHAP. II. _On the Cultivation of Education as a Science. _ From numerous considerations, it must be evident, that education claimsthe first rank among the sciences; and, in that case, the art ofTeaching ought to take precedence among the arts;--not perhaps inrespect of its difficulties, but most certainly in respect of itsimportance. The success of the teacher in his labours, will depend almost entirelyon the extent and the accuracy of the investigations of the philosopher. The science must guide the art. Experience shews, that where an artistin ordinary life is not directed by science, --by acknowledgedprinciples, --he can never make any steady improvement. In like manner, when the principles of education are unknown, no advancement in the artcan be expected from the teacher. Every attempt at change in suchcircumstances must be unsatisfactory; and even when improvements are bychance accomplished, they are but partial, and must be stationary. --When, on the contrary, the teacher is directed by ascertained principles, henever can deviate far from the path of success; and even if he should, he has the means in his own power of ascertaining the cause of hisfailure, and of retracing his steps. He can, therefore, at his pleasure, add to or abridge, vary or transpose his exercises with his pupils, provided only that the great principles of the science be kept steadilyin view, and be neither outraged, nor greatly infringed. No teacher, therefore, should profess the art, without making himself familiar withthe philosophical principles upon which it is founded. In the mechanicalarts, this practice is now generally followed, and with the happiesteffects. The men of the present generation have profited by the painfulexperience of thousands in former times; who, trusting to mereconjectures, tried, failed, and ruined themselves. The mechanics of ourday, instead of indulging in blind theories of their own, and hazardingtheir money and their time upon speculation and chance, are willing toborrow light for their guidance from those who have provided it. Theyslowly, but surely, follow in the path opened up to them by thediscoveries of science, --and they are never disappointed. The unexampled success of the mechanical arts, would, upon the aboveprinciples, naturally lead us to conclude, that the sciences, from whichthey have derived all that they possess, must have been cultivated withcorresponding energy. And such is the fact. Since the adoption of theinductive method of philosophizing, nearly all the sciences have beenadvancing rapidly and steadily; and the cause of this is to be found inadhering to the rules of induction. No science has been allowed to restits claims upon mere theory, or authority of any kind, but upon evidencederived from facts. Mere opinions and suppositions have been rigidlyexcluded; and that alone which was acquired by accurate investigation, has been acknowledged in science as having the stamp of truth. Theinductive philosophy takes nothing for granted. Every conclusion must belegitimately drawn from ascertained facts, or from principlesestablished by experiment; and the consequence has been, not only thatwhat has been attained is permanent, and will benefit all futuregenerations, but the amount of that attainment, in the short time thathas already elapsed, is actually greater than all that had beenpreviously gained during centuries. In this general improvement, however, the science of Education has till lately formed an exception. The principles of true philosophy do not appear to have been brought tobear upon it, as they have upon the other sciences; and the consequencesof this neglect have been lamentable. In every branch of naturalphilosophy, there are great leading principles already established. Butwhere were there any such principles established by the philosopher forthe guidance of the teacher? By what, except their own experience, andconjectures, were teachers directed in the training of theyoung?--Thirty or forty years ago, what was called "education" in ourordinary week-day schools, was little more than a mechanical round ofbarren exercises. The excitement of religious persecution, which hadbeen the means of disciplining the intellectual and moral powers ofScotsmen for several previous generations, had by that time graduallysubsided, and had left education to do its own work, by the use of itsown resources. But these were perfectly inadequate to the task. Theexercises almost universally employed in the education of the young, had neither been derived from science, nor from experience of their owninherent power; and they would, from the beginning, have been foundperfectly inefficient, had they not been aided, as before noticed, bythe stimulant of religious persecution. --The state of education, at thetime we speak of, is still fresh on the memory of living witnesses whowere its victims; and some of the absurdities which were then universal, are not even yet altogether extinct. Soon after the period above stated, an important change began to takeplace in the art of teaching, --but still unaided and undirected byscience. Some of the more thinking and judicious of its professors, roused by the flagrant failures of their own practice, made severalnoble and exemplary efforts to place it on a better footing. Had theseefforts been guided by scientific research, much more good would havebeen done than has been accomplished, and an immense amount ofmisdirected labour would have been saved. But although many of theattempts at a change failed, yet some of them succeeded, and havegradually produced ameliorations and improvements in the art ofteaching. Still it must be observed, that philosophy has had little orno share in the merit. Her labours in this important field have yet tobe begun. Valuable exercises have no doubt been introduced; but theprinciples upon which the success of these exercises depends, remain ina great measure concealed from the public generally:--And the reason ofthis is, that the public have been indebted for them to the _art_ of theteacher, and not to the _science_ of the philosopher. That this is not the position in which matters of so much publicimportance should continue, we think no one will deny. Education must becultivated as a science, before teaching can ever flourish as an art. The philosopher must first ascertain and light up the way, before theteacher can, with security, walk in it. Experiment must be employed toascertain facts, investigate causes, and trace these causes to theireffects. By fair and legitimate deductions drawn from the facts thusascertained, he will be enabled to establish certain principles, which, when acted upon by the teacher, will invariably succeed. But withoutthis, the history of all the other arts and sciences teaches us, thatsuccess is not to be expected;--for although chance may sometimes leadthe teacher to a happy device, there can be no steady progress. Eventhose beneficial exercises upon which he may have stumbled, become oflittle practical value; because, when the principles upon which they arebased are unknown, they can neither be followed up with certainty, norbe varied without danger. There will no doubt be a difficulty in the investigation of a sciencewhich is in itself so complicated, and which has hitherto been so littleunderstood; but this is only an additional reason why it should be begunin a proper manner, and pursued with energy. The mode of procedure isthe chief object of difficulty; but the experience and success ofinvestigators in the other sciences, will be of great advantage indirecting us in this. In the sciences of anatomy and physiology, forexample, the investigations of the philosopher are designed to directthe several operations of the physician, the surgeon, and the dentist;in the same way as the investigations of the Educationist are intendedto direct the operations of the Teacher. Now the mode of procedure inthose sciences for such purposes is well known, and forms an excellentexample for us in the present case. The duty of the anatomist, orphysiologist, is simply to examine the operations of Nature in theanimal economy, and the plans which she adopts for accomplishing herobjects during health, and for throwing off impediments during disease. In conducting his investigations, the enquirer begins by taking ageneral view of the whole subject, and then separating and defining itsleading parts. Pulsation, respiration, digestion, and the varioussecretions and excretions of the body, are defined, and their generalconnection with each other correctly ascertained. These form hisstarting points; and then, taking each in its turn, he sets himself todiscover the principles, or laws, which regulate its working in ahealthy state;--what it is that promotes the circulation or stagnationof the blood, the bracing or relaxing of the nerves, the severalprocesses in digestion, and the various functions of the skin andviscera. These are all first ascertained by observation and experience, and then, if necessary, established by experiment. These principles, having thus been established by science, are availablefor direction in the arts. The physician acts under their guidance; andhis object is simply to regulate his treatment and advice in accordancewith them. In other words, _he endeavours to imitate Nature_, to removethe obstructions which he finds interfering with her operations, or tolend that aid which a knowledge of these principles points out asnecessary. The surgeon and the dentist follow the same course, but moredirectly. In healing a wound, for example, the surgeon has to ascertainfrom science how Nature in similar cases proceeds when left to herself;and all his cuttings, and lancings, and dressings, are nothing more than_attempts to imitate her_ in her healing operations. So well is this nowunderstood, that every operation which does not at least recognise theprinciple is denounced--and justly denounced--as quackery; and thereason is, that uniform experience has convinced professional men, thatthey can only expect success when they follow with docility in the pathwhich Nature has pointed out to them. Precisely similar should be the plan of operation pursued by theEducationist. He should, in the first place, take a comprehensive viewof the whole subject, and endeavour to map out to himself its greatnatural divisions;--in other words, he should endeavour to ascertainwhat are the things which Nature teaches, that he may, by means of thisgreat outline, form a general programme for the direction of theteacher. His next object ought to be, to ascertain the mode, and themeans, adopted by Nature in forwarding these several departments of hereducational process; the powers of mind engrossed in each; the order inwhich they are brought into exercise; and the combinations which sheemploys in perfecting them. In ascertaining these principles whichregulate the operations of Nature in her educational processes, the sameadherence to the rules prescribed by the inductive philosophy, which hascrowned the other sciences with success, must be rigidly observed. Theremust be the same disregard of mere antiquity; there must be the samescrupulous sifting of evidence, and strict adherence to facts; theremust be a discarding of all hypotheses, and a simple dependence uponascertained truths alone. Adherence to these rules is as necessary incultivating the science of education, as it has been in the othersciences; and the neglect of any one of them, may introduce an elementof error, which may injure the labours of a whole lifetime. We have some reason to fear, that although all this will be readilyadmitted in theory, it will be found somewhat difficult to adopt it inpractice. The reason of this will be obvious when we reflect on the deepinterest which the best and most philanthropic individuals in societytake in this science. The other sciences are in some measure removedfrom the busy pursuits of life; they are the concern of certain persons, who are allowed to investigate and to experiment, to judge and to decideas they please, without the public in general caring much about thematter. --But education is a science of a different kind. Its value isacknowledged by every one, and its interests are dear to everybenevolent heart. The individual who undertakes to examine, and moreespecially to promulgate, any new principle upon which education rests, will have a harder task to perform, and a severer battle to fight, thanthe philosopher who attempts to overturn a false conclusion inchemistry, or an erroneous principle in mechanics. Among the learnedcommunity, not more than one in a thousand perhaps is personallyinterested either in mechanics or in chemistry; and few others willenter the lists to oppose that which appears legitimate and fair. Theenemies and opponents of the chemical reformer in that case may bezealous and even fierce; but they are few, and he enjoys the sympathyand the countenance of the great majority of those whose countenance isworthy of his regard. But when we calculate the number of those who takean interest in the subject of education, and those who do not, the abovenumbers will be reversed. Nine hundred and ninety-nine among theeducated public will be found who take a real interest in the progressof education, for one who cares nothing about it. This is a fearful odds where there is a likelihood of opposition;--andopposition may be expected. For there will be influences in many of thetrue friends of education, derived from old prejudices within, combinedwith the pressure of conflicting sentiments in their friends fromwithout, which will render the task of establishing new and soundprinciples in this first of the sciences an irksome, and even ahazardous employment. Coldness or opposition from those whom we honourand love is always painful; and yet it should be endured, rather thanthat the best interests both of the present and future generationsshould be sacrificed. The opinions of all good men deserveconsideration;--but when they are merely opinions, and are not foundedon reason, they are at best but specious; and when they are opposed totruth, and are contrary to experience, a zealous adherence to thembecomes sinful and dangerous. Such persons ought to commend, rather thanblame, the reformer in education, when he declines to adopt ancientdogmas which he finds to be useless and hurtful: And at all events, ifall have agreed to disregard the authority of an Aristotle or a Newton, when opposed to new facts and additional evidence, the Educationist mustnot allow himself to be driven from the path of fact and experience byeither friends or enemies. No authority can make darkness light;--andalthough he may be opposed for a time, and the public mind may be abusedfor a moment, it will at last correct itself, and truth will prevail. But the friends of education ought in no case to put the perseverance ofthose who labour for its improvement to so severe a trial. They ought injustice, as well as charity, to cultivate a forbearing and a candidspirit; and they will have many opportunities of exercising thesevirtues during the progress of this science. Education is confessedlybut in its infancy; and therefore it must grow much, and change much, before it can arrive at maturity. But if there be an increasingopposition to all advance, and if a stumbling-block be continuallythrown in the way of those who labour to perfect it, the labourers maybe discouraged, and the work be indefinitely postponed. Let all suchthen guard against a blind opposition, or an attempt to explain awaypalpable facts, merely because they lead to principles which are new, orto conclusions which are at variance with their pre-conceived opinions. If they persevere in a blind opposition, they may find at last that theyhave been resisting truth, and defrauding their neighbour. Truth cannever be the enemy of man, although many inadvertently rank themselvesamong its opponents. The resistance which has invariably been offered toevery important discovery hitherto, should be a beacon to warn theinconsiderate and the prejudiced against being over-hasty in rejectingdiscoveries in education; and the obloquy that now rests on the memoryof such persons, should be a warning to them, not to plant thorns intheir own pillows, or now to sow "the wind, lest they at last shouldreap the whirlwind. " CHAP. III. _On the Improvement of Teaching as an Art. _ As Education on account of its importance takes precedence in thesciences, so Teaching should rank first among the arts. The reasons forthis arrangement are numerous; but the consideration of two will besufficient. --The first is, that all the other arts refer chiefly totime, and the conveniences and comforts of this world; while the art ofteaching not only includes all these, but involves also many of theinterests of man through eternity. --And the second is, that without thisart all the other arts would produce scarcely any advantage. Withouteducation of some kind, men are, and must continue to be savages, --itbeing the only effectual instrument of civilization. It is the chief, ifnot the only means for improving the condition of the human family, andfor restoring man to the dignity of an intelligent and virtuous being. As "Science" is the investigation and knowledge of principles, so an"art" may be defined as a system of means, in accordance with theseprinciples, for attaining some special end. Teaching is one of the arts;and it depends as entirely for its success upon a right application ofthe principles of the science of education, as the art of dying doesupon the principles of chemistry. As an art, therefore, teaching must besubjected to all those laws which regulate the improvement of the otherarts, and without which it can never be successfully carried on, farless perfected. These laws are now very generally understood; and weshall briefly advert to a few of them, which are necessary for ourpresent purpose, and endeavour to point out their relation to the art ofteaching. 1. One of the first rules connected with the improvement of the arts is, that the artist have _a specific object in view, for the attainment ofwhich all his successive operations are to be combined_. --Themanufacturer has his _cloth_ in prospect, before he has even purchasedthe wool of which it is to be composed; and it is the desire ofprocuring cloth of the most suitable quality, and by the easiest means, that compels him to draw liberally and constantly from the factsascertained, and the principles developed, by the several sciences. Fromthe science of mechanics he derives the various kinds of machinery usedin the progressive stages of its production; and from the science ofchemistry he obtains the processes of dying, and printing, and dressing. But he never troubles himself about the science of mechanics or ofchemistry in the abstract; he thinks only of his cloth, and of thesesciences as means to assist him in procuring it. He is careful of hismachinery, and is constantly alive to the mode of its working, and isthus prompted to adopt such improvements as observation or experiencemay suggest; but it is not the machinery of itself that he either caresfor, or thinks about. No; it is still the cloth that he keeps in view;and his machinery is esteemed or slighted, adopted or abandoned, exactlyin proportion as it forwards his object. The processes necessary in thedifferent departments of his establishment, are complicated and various, and to a stranger they are both curious and instructive; but it isneither the labour nor the variety that he is seeking. His is a verydifferent object; and of this object he never loses sight; for thevaried operations of stapling and carding, of spinning and weaving, arenothing more than means which he employs for accomplishing his end. Heknows the uses of the whole complicated operations; and he sees at aglance, and can tell in a moment, how each in its turn contributes tothe great object of all, --the production of a good and marketable cloth. Now this law ought to be applied with the utmost strictness to the artof teaching. For if teaching be really an art, --that is, a successivecombination of means, --it should undoubtedly be a combination of meansto some specific end. Nothing can be more obvious, than that a man whosits down to work, should know what he intends to do, and how he is todo it. Such a line of conduct should be imperatively demanded of theteacher, both on account of the importance of his work, and of theimmense value of the material upon which he is to operate. The end hehas in view, whatever that end may be, ought to be correctly definedbefore he begins; and no exercise should upon any account be prescribedor demanded from his pupils, which does not directly, or indirectly atleast, conduce to its attainment. To do otherwise is both injudiciousand unjust. For if the operations of the husbandman during spring haveto be selected and curtailed with the strictest attention to time andthe seasons, how carefully ought the energies and the time of youth tobe economized, when they have but one short spring time afforded them, during which they are to sow the seed which shall produce good or evilfruit for eternity? As to what this great end which the teacher oughtsteadily to contemplate should be, we shall afterwards enquire; atpresent we are desirous only of establishing this general law in the artof teaching, that there should be an end accurately defined, andconstantly kept in view; and for the attainment of which every exerciseprescribed in the school should assist. The teacher who does otherwiseis travelling in the dark, and compelling labour for labour'ssake;--like the manufacturer who would keep all his machinery in motion, not to make cloth, but to appear to be busy. 2. Another law adopted in the successful prosecution of the arts is, _touse the best known means for attaining any particular end_. --This lawis well known in all the other arts, and success invariably depends uponits adoption. The fields are not now tilled by the hoe, nor is cottonspun by the hand. These modes of operating have no doubt therecommendation of antiquity; but here antiquity is always at a discount, and no one doubts the propriety of its being so. The arts are advancing;and they who would impede their progress on the plea of not departingfrom the usages of antiquity, would be pitied or laughed at. The art of teaching, like the other arts, depends for its success on astrict adherence to this law; and the fear of departing in this casefrom the particular usages of our ancestors is equally unreasonable. Soft ground in the valleys compelled them to travel their pack horsesright over the hills, and the want of the "Jenny" made them spin theiryarn by the hand; but still, the same principle which guided them in theadoption of those methods, was strictly the one which we are hererecommending, that of "using the best _known_ means for accomplishingthe particular end. " Those who adopt the principle do most honour totheir sagacity; while their shallow admirers, by abandoning theprinciple, and clinging to their necessarily imperfect mode of applyingit, at once libel their good sense, and dishonour those whom theyprofess to revere. As society is rapidly advancing, paternal affectionwould undoubtedly have prompted them to advise their descendants to takethe benefits of every advance;--and it would be as reasonable for us tosuppose, that if they were now alive, they would advise us to travelover the hills on their old roads, or make our cloth in the old way, asto think they would be gratified by our continuing to use exercises ineducation, which sound philosophy and experience have shewn to befallacious and hurtful, or that they would be displeased by the use ofthose which extensive experiment has now proved to be natural, easy, andefficient. These ancestral trammels have all been shaken off, wherever theacquisition of money is concerned. The mechanical processes of hisforefathers have no charm for the modern manufacturer, when he canattain his object more economically by a recent improvement. Neitherdoes he go blindfold upon a mere chance, --seldom even upon a sagaciousconjecture, --unless there be some good grounds for its formation. Inevery successive stage of his operations, he is awake to the slightestappearance of defect; and he hesitates not a moment in abandoning alesser good for a greater, whenever he perceives it. He husbandstime;--he husbands expense;--he husbands supervision and risk. Everystep with him is a step in advance;--every operation has adesign;--every movement has a meaning;--and he makes all unite for theattainment of one common object. Can we doubt that, in like manner, themost rigid economy of time and labour ought to be adopted in the art ofteaching? When the end has once been distinctly defined, it oughtsteadily to be kept in view; and no exercise should be prescribed whichdoes not contribute to its attainment. There should be no bustling aboutnothing; no busy idleness; no fighting against time; no unnecessarylabour, nor useless exhaustion of the pupil's energies. The time ofyouth is so precious, and there is so much to be done during it, thateconomy here is perhaps of more importance than in any thing else. Everybook or exercise, therefore, which has not a palpable tendency toforward the great object designed by education, should by the teacher beat once given up. 3. Another law which experience has established as necessary for theperfecting of any of the arts is, _a fair and honest application of thesuccessive discoveries of science to its improvement_. --This has beenthe uniform practice in those arts which have of late been making suchrapid progress. The artist and mechanic are never indifferent to thevarious improvements which are taking place around them; nor do theyever stand apart, till they are forced upon their notice by thirdparties, or public notoriety. There is, in the case of the manufacturer, no nervous timidity about innovation; nor does he ever attempt todeceive himself by ignorantly supposing that the change can be noimprovement. --Nor will he suffer himself to be deceived by others. Hisworkmen are not allowed, to save themselves future trouble, to becareless or sinister in their trials of the improvement; for he knows, that however it may be with them, yet if his neighbour succeeds, and hefails, it may prove his ruin. Such also should be the conduct of the teacher. The time has now gone bywhen parents were ignorant, either of what was communicated at school, or the manner in which it was taught. The improvement of their childrenby education, has become a primary object with all sensible parents; andthey will never again be satisfied with a school or a teacher, wheresolid instruction, and the most useful kind of knowledge are notimparted. Ameliorations in his art, therefore, is now as necessary tothe teacher, as improvements in machinery are to the mechanic and themanufacturer. It will no longer do for him to say, "I can see noimprovement in the change, " if the parents of his pupils have been ableto discover it; and the teacher who stands still in the present forwardmarch of society, will soon find himself left alone. The practicalEducationist, like the mechanician, ought no doubt to be cautious inadopting changes upon chance; but wherever an improvement in his art hasbeen sufficiently proved by fair experiment or long experience, andparticularly, when the principle upon which its success depends has beenfully ascertained, his rejecting the change on the plea ofinconvenience, or from the fear of trouble, is not only an act ofinjustice to the parents of his pupils, but is a wrong which will verysoon begin to re-act upon his own interests. The effect of indifferenceto improvement in this, as in other arts, may not be felt for a time;but as soon as _others_ have made themselves masters of the improvementswhich he has rejected, the successive departure of his pupils, and themelting away of his classes, will at last awaken him to a sense of hisfolly, when it may be too late. Such has usually been the effect ofremissness in the other arts; and the present state of the public mindin regard to education, indicates a similar result in similarcircumstances. In connection with this part of our subject, it may here be necessary toremark, that as the experience of all teachers may not be alike in the_first working_ of a newly applied principle, --the principle itself, when fully ascertained, is not on that account to be either belied orabandoned. There are many concurring circumstances, which may make anexercise that succeeds well in the hands of one person, fail in thehands of another; but to refuse credence to the principle itself, because he cannot as yet successfully apply it, is neither prudent norwise. There are chemical experiments so exceedingly nice, and dependingon so many varying circumstances, that they frequently fail in the handsof even good operators. But the chemical principles upon which they restremain unchanged, although individual students may have not been ablesuccessfully to apply them. If their professor has but _once_ fairly andundoubtedly succeeded in ascertaining the facts on which the principleis based, their failure for a thousand times is no proof that theascertained principle is really a fallacy. In like manner, any importantprinciple in education, if once satisfactorily ascertained, is a truthin the science, and will remain a truth, whoever may believe or deny it. If it has been proved to produce certain effects in certain givencircumstances, it will in all future times do the same, when thecircumstances are similar. The inability, therefore, of a parent orteacher, to produce equal effects by its means, may be good enoughproof of his want of skill, but it is no proof of the want of inherentpower in the principle itself. The rings of Saturn which my neighbour'stelescope has clearly brought to view, are not blotted from the heavensbecause my pocket glass has failed to detect them. It has been by attention to these, and similar rules, that all thesecular arts have advanced to their present state; and the art ofteaching must be perfected by similar means. There ought therefore to bea distinct object in view on the part of the teacher, --a specific endwhich he is to endeavour to arrive at in his intercourse with his pupil. For the attainment of this end, he must employ the best and the surestmeans that are in his power; for the same purpose, he ought honestly andfairly to apply the successive discoveries of science as they occur; andshould never allow himself to abandon an exercise founded uponascertained principles, merely because he at first finds difficulty inputting it in operation. CHAP. IV. _On the Establishment of Sound Principles in Education. _ The application of the foregoing remarks to our present purpose, is amatter of great practical importance. It has indeed been owing chieflyto their having been hitherto overlooked, that education has been leftin the backward state in which we at present find it. But if, as we have seen, education must bend to the same rigiddiscipline to which the other sciences have had to submit, --and ifteaching can be improved only by following the laws which havedetermined the success of the other arts--the question naturallyarises, "What is to be done now for education?"--"Where are we tobegin?"--"How are we to proceed?"--"In what manner are the principles ofthe science to be investigated, so that they shall most extensivelypromote the success of the art? and how is the art to be cultivated, sothat it may, to the fullest extent, be benefited by the science?" Tothese enquiries we shall in the present chapter direct our attention. The method of investigating the operations of Nature in the severalsciences is very nearly alike in all. For example, in the science ofchemistry, as we have formerly noticed, the first object of thephilosopher would be to take a comprehensive view of his whole subject, and endeavour to separate the substances in Nature according to theirgreat leading characteristics. He would at once distinguish mineralsubstances as differing from vegetables;--and vegetable substances asdiffering from animals;--thus forming three distinct classes of objects, blending with each other, no doubt, but still sufficiently distinct toform what have been called the three kingdoms of Nature. The variousobjects included under each of these he would again subdivide accordingto their several properties;--and as he went forward, he wouldendeavour, by careful examination and experiment, to ascertain, not onlytheir combinations, but also the characteristic properties of theirseveral elements. The chemist, in this method of investigating Nature, almost always proceeds upwards, analytically, advancing from the generalto the special, from the aggregate to its parts, endeavouring toascertain as he proceeds the laws which regulate their composition anddecomposition, for the purpose simply of endeavouring to imitate them. By this means alone he expects to perfect the science, and to benefitthe arts. In the science of Botany, Zoology, Anatomy, Physiology, and almost allthe others, the same plan has been adopted with invariable success. Thesubject, whatever it be, is looked upon as a whole, and then separatedinto its great divisions;--these again, are subdivided into classes; andthese again, into orders, genera, species, and varieties, by which meanseach minute part can be examined by itself in connection with the whole;the memory and the judgment are assisted in their references andapplication; and order reigns through the whole subject, which otherwisewould have been involved in inextricable confusion. In education, as in the other sciences, Nature is our only sure teacher;and the Educationist, therefore, who desires success, must proceed inthe investigation in a similar way. He must first take a comprehensiveview of Nature's educational processes; divide them into their severalkinds; and subdivide these again when necessary, that each may be viewedalone. He must then ascertain the nature and the object of theseprocesses, and observe the means and the methods employed foraccomplishing them, that he may, if possible, be enabled to _imitate_them. In this way, and in this way alone, he is to perfect the scienceof education, and benefit the art of teaching. That this is the best way yet known of proceeding in investigating andimproving the science of education, experience has already proved; andthat it must theoretically be so, we think can admit of little doubt. The operations of Nature exhibit the soundest philosophy, and the mostperfect examples of art. The materials she selects are the most suitablefor the purpose; the means she employs are always the most simple andefficient; and her ends are invariably gained at the least expense ofmaterial, labour, and time. In the pursuit, therefore, of any object orend similar to that in which we find Nature engaged, man's truest wisdomis to distrust his own speculations, and to learn from her teaching. Heshould, with a child-like docility, follow her leadings and imitate heroperations, both as it respects the materials he is to employ, and themode and order in which he is to use them. Were an artist to findhimself at a loss for the want of an instrument to accomplish someparticular purpose, or some new material upon which to operate, or somespecial, but as yet unknown means for attaining some new and importantobject, --we are warranted by facts to say, that the natural philosopherwould be his best instructor. For if he can be directed to some similaroperation of Nature, or have pointed out to him some one or more ofNature's pupils, --some animal or insect, perhaps, --whose labour orobject is similar to his own, he will most probably find there, or havesuggested to him by their mode of procedure, the very thing he is insearch of. By studying their methods of operating, and the meansemployed by them for accomplishing their end, some principle or devicewill be exhibited, by the imitation of which his own special object willmost readily and most successfully be attained. Every day's experiencegives us additional proof of the importance and soundness of thissuggestion. For it is a remarkable fact, that there is scarcely a usefulmechanical invention to which genius has laid claim, --and deservedlylaid claim, --that has not its prototype somewhere in nature. The sameprinciples, working perhaps in the same manner, have been silently inoperation, thousands of years before the inventor was born; but which, from want of observation, or the neglect of its practical application touseful purposes, lay concealed and useless. This culpable neglect inpractically applying the works and ways of God as he intended, hascarried with it its own punishment; for thousands of the conveniencesand arts, which at present smooth and adorn the paths of civilized life, have all along been placed within the reach of intelligent man. If hehad but employed his intelligence, as he ought to have done, insearching them out, and had asked himself when he perceived them, "Whatdoes this teach me?" the very question would have suggested a use. Thisaccordingly will be found to be the true way of studying nature, and oneespecial design for which a beneficent Creator has spread out his worksfor our inspection. In proof, and in illustration of this fact, we mayrefer to the telescope, which has from the beginning had its type in thehuman eye;--to the formation of paper, which has been manufactured forthousands of years by the wasp;--to the levers, joints, and pulleys ofthe human body, of which the mechanist has as yet only made imperfectimitations;--and to the saw of an insignificant insect, (the saw-fly)which has never yet been successfully imitated by man. In prosecuting our investigations into the science of education, therefore, our business is to study Nature in all the educationalprocesses in which we find her occupied, and of which we shall findthere are many;--to observe and collect facts;--to detect principles, and to discover the means employed in carrying them out, and the modesof their working;--to trace effects back to their causes, and then againto follow the effects through their various ramifications, to someultimate end. These are the things which it is the business of theEducationist to investigate, and to record for the benefit of theteacher and his art. The duty of the teacher, on the other hand, is to apply to his ownpurposes, and to turn to use in the prosecution of his objects, thosefacts discovered by the philosopher in the study of Nature. He should byall means understand the principles upon which Nature works, and themeans which she employs for attaining her ends. He ought, as far ascircumstances will allow, to arrive at his object by similar means;chusing similar materials, and endeavouring invariably to work upon thesame model. By honestly following out such a mode of procedure, he mustbe successful; for although he can never attain to the perfection ofNature, yet this is obviously the best, if not the only method by whichhe can ever approximate towards it. PART II. ON THE GREAT DESIGN OF NATURE'S TEACHING, AND THE METHODS SHE EMPLOYS INCARRYING IT ON. CHAP. I. _A Comprehensive View of the several Educational Processes carried on byNature. _ We have seen in the former chapters, that the most probable method ofsucceeding in any difficult undertaking is to learn from Nature, and toendeavour to imitate her. The first great question with the Educationistthen should be, "Does Nature ever teach?" If he can find her soemployed, and if he be really willing to learn, he may rest assured, that by carefully studying her operations, he will be able to detectsomething in the ends which she aims at, and the methods which sheadopts for attaining these ends, that will lead him to the selection ofsimilar means, and crown him ultimately with similar success. Now we find that Nature does teach; and in so far as rational beings areconcerned, whether angelic or human, it appears to be her chief and hernoblest employment. In regard to the human family, she no doubt, at acertain period, intends that the task should be taken up and carried onby parents and teachers, under her controul; but when we compare thenature and success of their operations with hers, we perceive theimmense inferiority of their best endeavours, and are obliged toconfess, that in many instances, instead of forwarding her work, theyeither mar or destroy it. For in regard to the _matter_ of theirteaching, it may be observed, that they can teach their pupils nothing, except what they or their predecessors have learned of Naturebefore;--and as to the _manner_ in which it is taught, it is generallyso very imperfect, that for their success, teachers are often indebtedin no small degree to the constant interference of Nature, in what isordinarily termed the "common sense" of their pupils, for rectifyingmany of their errors, and supplying innumerable deficiencies. Of this weshall by and by have to advert more particularly. The educational operations of Nature are universal; and she attacheslarge rewards to diligence in attending to them. She evidently intends, as we have said, that the parent and teacher should take up, and followout her suggestions in this great work; but even when this is delayed, or altogether neglected, her part of the proceedings is not abandoned. Nature is so strong within the pupil, and her educational promptings areso powerful, that even without a teacher, he is able for a time to teachhimself. In man, and even among many of the more perfect specimens ofthe lower creation, Nature has suspended the larger portion of theircomforts and their security, upon attention to her lessons, and thepractical application of that which she teaches. The dog which shuns theperson who had previously beaten him; the infant that clings to itsnurse, and refuses to leave her; the boy who refuses to cross the ditchhe never tried before; the savage who traces the foot-prints of hisgame; the man who shrinks from a ruffian countenance; and Newton, whenthe fall of an apple prompted him to pursue successively the lessonswhich that simple event suggested to him, are all examples of theteachings of Nature, --specimens of the manner in which she enables herpupils to collect and retain knowledge, and stimulates them to apply it. Wherever these suggestions of Nature are individually neglected, theremust be discomfort and danger, and wretchedness to the _person_ doingso; and wherever they are not taken up by communities, and sociallytaught by education of some kind or another, _society_ must necessarilyremain little better than savage. --The opposite of this is equally true;for wherever they are personally attended to, the individual promoteshis own safety and comfort; and when they are socially taken up andfollowed out by education, however imperfectly, then civilization, andnational security, prosperity, and happiness, are the invariableconsequences. The information which we are to derive from the Academy of Nature, is tobe found chiefly in those instances where she is least interfered withby the operations of others. In these we shall endeavour to follow her;and, by classifying her several processes, and investigating each ofthem in its order, we shall assuredly be able to arrive at some firstprinciples, to guide us in imitating the modes of her working, and whichwill enable us, in some measure, to share in her success. When we take a comprehensive view of the educational processes ofNature, we find them arranging themselves under four great divisions, blending into each other, no doubt, like the kingdoms of Nature and thecolours of the rainbow, but still perfectly distinct in their greatcharacteristics. The _first_ educational process which is observable in Nature's Academy, is the stimulating of her pupil to such an exercise of mind uponexternal objects, as tends powerfully and rapidly to expand andstrengthen the powers of his mind. This operation begins with the firstdawning of consciousness, and continues under different forms during thewhole period of the individual's life. The _second_ educational process, which in its commencement is perhapscoeval with the first, is Nature's stimulating her pupil to theacquisition of knowledge, for the purpose of retaining and using it. The _third_ consists in the disciplining of her pupil in the practicaluse, and proper application of the knowledge received; by which meansthe knowledge itself becomes better understood, better remembered, andmuch more at the command of the will than it was before:-- And her _fourth_ educational process consists, in training her pupil toacquire facility in communicating by language, his knowledge andexperience to others. The _first_ of these four general departments in Nature's educationalprocess, _is the developement and cultivation of the powers of herpupil's mind_. --This part of Nature's work begins at the first dawn ofintelligence; and it continues through every other department of hereducational process. For several months during infancy, sensation itselfis but languid. The first indistinct perceptions of existence graduallygive place to a dreamy and uncertain consciousness of personalidentity. --Pain is felt; light is perceived; objects begin to bedefined, and distinguished; ideas are formed; and then, but not tillthen, reflection, imagination, and memory, are gradually brought intoexercise, and cultivated. It is the extent and strength of thesefaculties, as we shall afterwards see, that is to measure theeducational progress of the child; and therefore it is, that the firstobject of Nature seems to be, to secure their proper developement. Thechild feels and thinks; and it is these first feelings and thoughts, frequently repeated, that enable it gradually to extend its mentaloperations. It is in this way only that the powers, of the mind ininfants are expanded and strengthened, as there can be no mental culturewithout mental exercise. While a child is awake, therefore, Natureprompts him to constant and unwearied mental exertion; by which means hebecomes more and more familiar with external objects; acquires a bettercommand over his own mind in perceiving and remembering them; andbecomes more and more fitted, not only for receiving constant accessionsof knowledge, but also for putting that knowledge to use. The _second_ part of Nature's educational process, we have said, consists in her powerfully stimulating her pupil to _the acquisition ofknowledge_. --This, which we call the second part of Nature's operations, has been going on from an early period of the child's history, and itacts usually in conjunction with the first. As soon as an infant candistinguish objects, it begins to form ideas regarding them. Itremembers their shape; it gradually acquires a knowledge of theirqualities; and these it remembers, and, as we shall immediately see, isprompted to put to use upon proper occasions. --It is in the acquisitionof this kind of knowledge that the principle of curiosity begins to bedeveloped. The child's desire for information is increased with everynew accession; and for this reason, its mental activity andrestlessness, while awake, have no cessation. Every glance of the eye, every motion of the hands or limbs made to gratify its curiosity, as itis called, is only an indication of its desire for information:--Everysight or sound calls its attention; every portable object is seized, mouthed, and examined, for the purpose of learning its qualities. Theseoperations at the instigation of Nature are so common, that they arescarcely observed; but when we examine more minutely into their effects, they become truly wonderful. For example, were we to hear of an infantof two or three years of age, having learned in the course of a fewmonths to distinguish each soldier in a regiment of Negroes, whosefeatures their very parents perhaps would have some difficulty indiscriminating; if he could call each individual by his name; knew alsothe names and the uses of their several accoutrements; and, besides allthis, had learned to understand and to speak their language;--we wouldbe surprised and incredulous. And yet this would be an accumulation ofknowledge, not much greater than is attained in the same space of timeby many of the feeble unsophisticated pupils of Nature. --Infants, havingno temptation to depart from her mode of discipline, become in a shortperiod acquainted with the forms, and the uses, and even the names, ofthousands of persons and objects, not only without labour, but with vastsatisfaction and delight. The training of her pupils to _the practical use of their knowledge_, forms the _third_ department in Nature's educational process. --This isthe great end which the two previous departments were designed toaccomplish. This is Nature's _chief_ object;--all the others areobviously subordinate. The cultivation of the mind, and the acquisitionof knowledge were necessary;--but that necessity arose from thecircumstance of their being preparatory to this. Nature, in fact, appears to have stamped this department of her operations almostexclusively with her own seal;--repudiating all knowledge that remainsuseless, and in a short time blotting it entirely from the memory of herpupils; while that portion of their acquired knowledge, on the contrary, which is useful and is put to use, becomes in proportion more familiar, and more permanent. It is also worthy of remark, that the knowledgewhich is most useful, is always most easily and pleasantly acquired. The superior importance of this department of education is veryobservable. In the previous departments of Nature's educational process, the child was induced to _acquire_ new ideas;--in this he is prompted to_make use of them_. In the former he was taught to _know_;--in this heis trained to _act_. For example, if he has learned that his nurse iskind, Nature now prompts him to act upon that knowledge, and heaccordingly strains every nerve to get to his nurse;--if he has learnedthat comfits are sweet, he acts upon that knowledge, and endeavours toprocure them;--and if he has once experimentally learned that the firewill burn, he will ever afterwards keep from the fire. Last of all comes the _fourth_, or supplementary step in this beautifuleducational process of Nature. It consists in gradually training herpupil to _communicate the knowledge and experience which he hasattained_. --It is probable that Nature begins this part of her processbefore the child has acquired the use of language;--but as it is bylanguage chiefly that man holds fellowship with man, it is not till hehas learned to speak that the mental exercise on which its successdepends, becomes sufficiently marked and obvious. It consists, not inthe acquisition of language so much, as in the use of language after ithas been gained. The pupil is for this purpose prompted by Nature tothink and to speak at the same moment;--mentally to prepare onesentence, while he is giving utterance to its predecessor. That this isnot the result of instinct, but is altogether an acquisition made underthe tuition of Nature by the mental exertions of the infant himself, isobvious from the fact, that he is at first incapable of it, and neverpronounces three, and very seldom two words consecutively without apause between each. This the child continues to do after he is perfectlyfamiliar with the meaning of many words, and after he can also pronounceeach of them individually. In giving utterance to the first words whichhe uses, there is an evident suspension of the mind in regard to everything else. His whole attention appears to be concentrated upon the wordand its pronunciation. He cannot think of any thing else and pronouncethe word at the same time; and it is not till after long practice thathe can utter two, three, or more words in a sentence, without hesitationand a decided pause between them. It is only by degrees that he acquiresthe ability to utter a phrase, and at last a short sentence, withoutinterruption. Nature prompts the child to this exercise, which from thefirst attempt, to the full flow of eloquence in the extemporaneousdebater, consists simply in commanding and managing one set of ideas inthe mind, at the moment the person is giving utterance to others. Thiscannot be done by _the child_, but it is gradually acquired by _theman_; and we shall see in its proper place, that this acquisition isentirely the result of a mental exercise, such as we have heredescribed, and to which various circumstances in childhood and youth aremade directly subservient. Here then we have the highway of education, marked off, and walled in byNature herself. That these four great departments in her educationalprocess will be much better defined, and their parts better understood, when experience has given more ample opportunities for theirobservation, cannot be doubted; and it is not improbable, that futureinvestigations will suggest a different arrangement of heads, and adifferent modification of their parts also; but still, the great outlineof the whole, we think, is so distinctly marked, that, so far as theygo, there can be little mistake; and by following them, we are mostlikely to obtain a large amount of those benefits which education isintended to secure. --To excel Nature is impossible; but by endeavouringto imitate her, we may at least approach nearer to her perfections. It is not enough, however, for us to perceive the great outlines ofNature's operations in education; we must endeavour to follow her intothe details, and investigate the means which she employs for carryingthem into practical effect. We shall therefore take up the severaldepartments above enumerated in their order, and endeavour to trace thelaws which regulate her operations in each, for the purpose of assistingthe teacher in his attempts to imitate them. CHAP. II. _On the Method employed by Nature for cultivating the Powers of theMind. _ The _first_ step in Nature's educational process, is the cultivation ofthe powers of the mind; and, without entering into the recesses ofmetaphysics, we would here only recall to the recollection of thereader, that the mind, so far as we yet know, can be cultivated in noother way than by voluntary exercise:--not by mere sensation, orperception, nor by the involuntary flow of thought which is ever passingthrough the mind; but by the active mental operation called"thinking, "--the voluntary exertion of the powers of the mind upon theidea presented to it, and which we have denominated "reiteration, "[1] asperhaps best descriptive of that thinking of the presented idea "overagain, " by which alone, as we shall see, the mind is cultivated, andknowledge increased. It is also here worthy of remark, that the cultivation of the powers ofher pupil's mind, as a preliminary to their acquiring and applying ofknowledge, appears to be a settled arrangement of Nature, and one whichmust be rigidly followed by the teacher, wherever success is to be hopedfor. Analogy, in other departments of Nature's operations, proves itsnecessity, and points out its wisdom; for she is never premature, andnever stimulates her pupils to any work, till they have been properlyprepared for accomplishing it. Hence the consistency and importance ofcommencing the process of education, by expanding and cultivating thepowers of the mind, preparatory to the future exertions of the pupil;and hence also the wisdom of requiring no more from the child, than thestate of his mental powers at the time are capable of performing. Ourobject, at present, is to discover the means employed by Nature foraccomplishing this preliminary object, that we may, by imitating herplans, obtain the greatest amount of benefit. In infancy, and during the early part of a child's life, each of thethousands of objects and actions which are presented to its observation, falls equally on the organs of sense, and each of them _might_, if thechild had pleased, have become objects of perception, as well as objectsof sensation. But it is evident, that till the mind occupy itself uponone or more of these objects, there can be no mental exercise, and, ofcourse, no mental culture. On the contrary, if the mind shall single outany one object from the mass that surrounds it, --shall entertain theidea suggested by its impression on the organs of sense, and think ofit--that is, review it on the mind--there is then mental exercise, and, in consequence, mental cultivation. From this obvious truth itnecessarily follows, that the cultivation of the mind does not dependupon the multitude of objects presented to the observation of a child, but only on those which it really does observe, --which it looks at, andthinks upon, by an active voluntary exercise of its own powers. Thechild, no doubt, _might_ have smelt every odour; it _might_ havelistened to every sound that entered the ear; and it _might_ have lookedupon every image that entered the eye; but we know that it did not. Afew of them only were thought of, --the ideas which they suggested werealone "reiterated" by the mind, --and therefore they, and they alone, tended to its cultivation. As this act of the mind lies at the root of all mental improvement, during every stage of the pupil's education, it becomes a matter ofconsiderable importance, that its nature, and mode of operation, shouldbe thoroughly understood. Let us for this purpose suppose that a lighted candle is suddenlypresented before a young infant. He looks at it; he thinks of it; hismind is employed with the flame of the candle in a manner quitedifferent from what it is upon any thing else in the room. All the otherimages which enter the eye fail to make an impression upon the mind; butthis object which the child looks at, --observes, --does this; andaccordingly, while it is passive as to every thing else, the mind isfound to be actively engaged with the candle. He not only sees it, buthe looks at it. This, and similar "reiterations" of ideas by the mind, frequently repeated by the infant, gradually communicate to it aconsciousness of mental power, and enable him more and more easily towield it. Every such instance of the reiteration of an idea, --of thevoluntarily exercise of active thought, --strengthens the powers of themind, so that he is soon able to look at and follow with his eyes otherobjects, although they are much less conspicuous than the glare of acandle. When we examine the matter a little farther in regard to infants, weperceive, that all the little arts used by the mother or the nurse, to"amuse the child, " as it is called, are nothing more than means employedto excite this reiteration of ideas by the mind. A toy, for example, ispresented to the infant, and his attention is fixed upon it. He is notsatisfied with passively seeing the toy, as he sees all the otherobjects in the room, but he actively looks at it. Nor is this enough;the toy is usually seized, handled, mouthed, and turned; and eachmovement prompts the mind to active thought, --to reiterate the ideawhich each of the sensations suggests. These impressions are no doubtrapid, but they are real; and each of them has been reiterated, --activelythought of, --before they could either be received, or remembered; and itis only by these impressions frequently repeated, in which the mind isvigorously and delightfully engaged, that it acquires that activity andstrength which we so frequently witness in the young. At a more advanced period during childhood and youth, we find thecultivation of the mind still depending upon the same principle. It isnot enough that numerous objects be presented to the senses of thepupil; or that numerous words or sounds be made to vibrate in his ears;or even that he himself be made mechanically to utter them. This may bedone, and yet the mind may remain perfectly inactive with respect tothem all:--Nay, experience shews, that during such mechanical exercises, his mind may all the time be actively employed upon something else. There must therefore, not only be a hearing, or a reading of the wordswhich convey an idea, but he must make the idea his own, by thinking itover again for himself. Hence it is that mental vigour is not acquiredin proportion to the number of pages that the pupil is compelled toread; nor to the length of the discourses which are delivered in hishearing; nor to the multiplicity of objects placed before him. It isfound entirely to depend upon his diligence in thinking for himself;--inreiterating in his own mind the ideas which he hears, or reads, or whichare suggested to his mind by outward objects. This is still the same actof the mind which we have described in the infant, with this veryimportant difference, however, that a large portion of his ideas is nowsuggested by _words_, instead of _things_; but it is the ideas, and notthe words, that the mind lays hold of, and by which its powers arecultivated. When this act therefore is successfully forced upon a childin any of his school operations, the mind will be disciplined andimproved;--but wherever it is not produced, however plausible orpowerful the exercise may _appear_ to be, it will on scrutiny be foundto be totally worthless in education, --a mere mechanical operation, inwhich, there being no mental exertion, there can be no mental culture. In the adult, as well as in the young and the infant, the culture of themind is carried on in every case by the operation of the sameprinciple. --However various the means employed for this purpose may be, they all depend for their success upon this kind of activethought, --this reiteration of the _ideas_ suggested in the course ofreading, hearing, observation, or reasoning. A man may turn a wheel, orpoint pins, or repeat words from infancy to old age, without his mind'sbeing in the least perceptible degree benefited by such operations;while the mill-wright, the engineer, or the artist, whose employmentsrequire varied and active thought, cannot pursue his employment for asingle day, without mental culture, and an acquisition of mentalstrength. --The reason is, that in mere mechanical operations there isnothing to induce this act of reiteration, --this active mental exerciseof which we are speaking. In the former case, the individual is left tothe train of thought in the mind, which appears to afford no mentalcultivation;--whereas, in the latter, the mind is, by the acts ofcomparing, judging, trying, and deciding, which the nature of hisoccupation renders necessary, constantly excited to activethought, --that is, to the reiteration of the several ideas presented toit. These remarks may be thought by some to be exceedingly commonplace andself-evident. --It may be so. If they be admitted, we ask no more. --Ourpurpose at present is answered, if we have detected a principle ineducation, by the operation of which the powers of the mind areinvariably expanded and strengthened;--an effect which, so far as we yetknow, in its absence never takes place. It is by means of this principlealone that Nature accomplishes this important object, both in young andold; but its effects are especially observable in the young, where, heroperations not being so much interfered with, we find her producing byits means the most extraordinary effects, and that even during the mostimbecile period of her pupil's existence. In concluding this part of our investigation, we would very brieflyremark, that the existence of this principle in connection with thecultivation of the mind, accounts in a very satisfactory manner for thebeneficial results which usually accompany the study of languages, mathematics, and some other branches of education similar in theirnature. --These objects of study, when once acquired, may neverafterwards be used, and will consequently be lost; but in learning themthe pupil was compelled to think, --to exercise his own mind on thesubjects taught, --to reflect, and to reiterate the ideas communicated tohim, till they had been fully mastered. The mental vigour which was atfirst forced upon the pupil, by these beneficial exercises, remains withhim, and is exercised upon other objects, as they are presented to hisobservation in ordinary life. --The mind in commencing these studiesgradually emancipates itself from the mechanical tendencies which animproper system of teaching had previously formed, and now gathersstrength daily by this natural mode of exercising its powers. It is theeffects of this kind of discipline that constitute the chief element ofa cultivated mind. In this principally consists the difference between aman of "liberal education, " and others who have been less highlyfavoured. --His superiority does not lie in his ability to read Latin andGreek, --for these attainments may long ago have been forgotten andlost;--but in the state of his mind, and the superior cultivation of themental powers. --He possesses a clearness, a vigour, and a grasp of mindabove others, which enable him at a glance to comprehend astatement;--to judge of its accuracy;--and, without effort, to arrangeand communicate his ideas concerning it. This ability, as we have seen, can be acquired only by active mental exercise, and is not necessarilythe result of extensive reading, nor is it always accompanied byextensive knowledge. It is the natural and the necessary product ofmental discipline, through which the above described act of"reiteration, " like a golden thread, runs from beginning to end. It isthe fire of intellect, kindled at first perhaps by classical, andmathematical studies; but which now, collecting force and fuel fromevery circumstance of life, glows and shines, long after the materialswhich first excited the flame have disappeared. If then, as we formerly explained, the arts are to derive benefit fromthe investigations of science, we are led to the conclusion, that thewisdom of the Teacher will consist in taking advantage of the principlewhich has been here exhibited. He should not speculate nor theorize, norgo forward inconsiderately in using exercises, the benefits of which areat least questionable; but he ought implicitly to follow Nature in thepath which she has thus pointed out to him. One chief object with himshould be, the cultivation of the minds of his pupils; and the onlymethod by which he can attain success in doing so has now been stated. He must invent, or procure some exercise, or series of exercises, bywhich the act of "reiteration" in the minds of his pupils shall beregularly and systematically carried on. --He must induce them to thinkfor themselves, and to exercise the powers of their own mindsdeliberately and frequently, --in the same manner as we see Natureoperating in the mind of a lively and active child. When he canaccomplish this, he will, and he must succeed; whereas, if he allow anexercise to be prepared where this act of the mind is absent, he mayrest assured that he is deceiving both himself and the child. --The lawsof Nature are inflexible; and while she will undoubtedly countenance andreward these who act upon the principles which she has established, shewill as certainly leave those who neglect them to eat the "fruit oftheir own doings. "--But the pupil, more than the Teacher is thesufferer. Under the pure discipline of Nature in the infant and thechild, learning is not only their business, but their delight; and it isonly when her principles are unknown, or violently outraged, thateducation becomes a burden, and the school-house a prison. FOOTNOTES: [1] Note A. CHAP. III. _On the Means by which Nature enables her Pupils to acquire Knowledge. _ The _second_ stage of the pupil's advance under the teaching of Natureis that in which she prompts and assists him in the acquisition ofknowledge. --The importance of this department of a child's education hasuniformly been acknowledged;--so much so, indeed, that it has toofrequently absorbed the whole attention of the Teacher, as if thepossession of knowledge were the whole of education. --That this is amistake we shall afterwards see; because the value of knowledge mustalways be in proportion to the use we can make of it; but it is equallytrue, that as we cannot use knowledge till we have acquired it, itsacquisition as a preliminary step is of the greatest importance. Ourintention is at present, to enquire into the means employed by Nature, for enabling her pupils to acquire, to retain, and to classify theirknowledge; so that, by ascertaining and imitating her methods, we may insome degree share in her success. For some time during the early years of childhood Nature is the chief, or the only Teacher; and the contrast between her success at that time, and the success of the parent or teacher who succeeds her, is veryremarkable, and deserves consideration. When we examine this process in the case of infants, we see Natureacting without interference, and therefore with undeviating success. Within a few months after the child has attained some degree ofconsciousness, we find that Nature, under every disadvantage of body andmind, has succeeded in communicating to the infant an amount ofknowledge, which, when examined in detail appears very wonderful. --Thechild has been taught to know his relations and friends; he has acquiredthe ability to use his limbs, and muscles, and organs, and the knowledgehow to do so in a hundred different ways. He has become familiar withthe form, the colour, the texture, and the names of hundreds of articlesof dress, of furniture, of food, and of amusement, not only withoutfatigue, but in the exercise of the purest delight, and with increasingenergy. He has begun to contrast objects, and to compare them; and thiscapacity he evinces by an undeviating accuracy in choosing those thingswhich please him, and in rejecting those things which he dislikes. Butabove all, the infant, along with all this substantial knowledge, hasbeen taught to understand a language, and even to speak it. The fact ofall this having been accomplished by a child of only two or three yearsof age, is so common, that the mysterious principles which it involves, are too generally overlooked. We thoughtlessly allow them to escapeobservation, as if they were mere matters of instinct, and were to beranked with the spider's catching its prey, or the sparrow's buildingits nest. But the principles which regulate these different operationsare perfectly dissimilar. In the case of the spider and the sparrowthere is no teaching, and, of course, no learning. Their first web, andtheir first nest, are as perfect as the last; but in the case of theinfant, with only two or three exceptions, there is nothing that hedoes, and nothing that he knows, which he has not reallylearned, --acquired by experience under the tuition of Nature, by theactual use of his own mental and physical powers. The benefits accruing to education, from successfully imitating Naturein this department of her process, will be incalculable; not only inadding to the amount of knowledge communicated, but in the ease anddelight which the young will experience in acquiring it. All must admitthat the pleasure, as well as the rapidity, of the educational processin the young, continues only during the time that Nature is theirteacher;--and that her operations are generally checked, or neutralizedby the mismanagement of those who supersede her work, and begin totheorize for themselves. The proof of this is to be found in the fact, that although a child is much less capable of acquiring knowledgebetween one and three years of age, than he is between eight and ten;yet, generally, the amount of his intellectual attainments by his schoolexercises, during the two latter years, bears no proportion to those ofthe former, when Nature _alone_ was his teacher. In the one case, too, his knowledge was acquired without effort or fatigue, and in theexercise of the most delightful feelings;--in the other, quite thereverse. That we shall ever be able to equal Nature in this part of hereducational process, is not to be expected; but that, by following upthe principles which she has developed, and imitating the methods bywhich she accomplishes her ends, we shall become more and moresuccessful, there can be no doubt. The method, therefore, to be adoptedby us is, to examine carefully the principles which she employs with theyoung, through the several stages of her process, and then, by adoptingexercises which embody these principles, to proceed in a course similarto that which she has pointed out. In prosecuting this plan, then, our object must be, first, to examinegenerally the various means employed by Nature, in the acquisition ofknowledge by the young, --and then to attend more in detail to the modeby which she applies the principles involved in each. These general means appear to consist of four distinct principles, which, for want of better definitions, we shall denominate"Reiteration, " "Individuation, or Abstraction, " "Grouping, orAssociation, " and "Classification, or Analysing. "[2] The _first_ is the act of "Reiteration, " of which we have alreadyspoken, as the chief instrument in cultivating the powers of the mind, and without which, we shall also find, there can be no acquisition ofknowledge. The _second_ is the principle of "Individuation, " by whichNature communicates the knowledge of single ideas, or single objects, byconstraining the child to concentrate the powers of its mind upon oneobject, or idea, till that object or idea is familiar, or, at least, known. The _third_ is the common principle of "Grouping, orAssociation, " and appears to depend, in some degree, on the imaginativepowers, by which a child begins to associate objects or truths together, after they have become individually familiar; so that any one of them, when afterwards presented to the mind, enables the pupil at a glance, tocommand all the others which were originally associated with it. The_fourth_ is the principle of "Classification, or Analysing, " by whichthe mind distributes objects or truths according to their nature, --putsevery truth or idea, as it is received, into its proper place, and amongobjects or ideas of a similar kind. This classification of objects isnot, as in the principle of grouping, regulated according to theiraccidental relation to each other, by which the canary and the cage inwhich it is confined would be classed together; but according to theirnature and character, by which the canary would be classified withbirds, and the cage among other articles of household furniture. Allknowledge, so far as we are aware, appears to be communicated andretained for use, by means of these four principles; and we shall nowproceed to examine the mode in which each of them is employed by Naturefor that purpose. FOOTNOTES: [2] Note A. CHAP. IV. _On Nature's Method of communicating Knowledge to the Young by thePrinciple of Reiteration. _ We have, in a former chapter, endeavoured to describe that particularact of the mind which generally follows simple perception, and by whichan idea, when presented to it, is made the subject of _active thought_, or is "_reiterated_" again to itself. We have found upon good evidence, that it is by this process, whether simple or complex, that the powersof the mind are cultivated; and we now proceed to shew, that it is bythe same act, and by it alone, that any portion of knowledge is evercommunicated. [3] No truth, or idea of any kind, can make an effectiveentrance into the mind, or can find a permanent lodgement in the memory, so as to become "knowledge, " until it has successfully undergone thisprocess. There are two ways by which we usually acquire knowledge:--The one is by_observation_, without the use of language, and which is common to uswith those who are born deaf and dumb; and the other is _through themedium of words_, either heard or read. In both cases, however, theknowledge retained consists entirely of the several _ideas_ which theobjects or the words convey; and what we are now to shew, is, that theseideas thus conveyed, can neither be received by the mind, nor retainedby the memory, till they have undergone this process of "reiteration. "While, on the contrary, it will be seen that, whenever this processreally takes place, the idea thus reiterated does become part of ourknowledge, and is, according to circumstances, more or less permanentlyfixed upon the memory. We shall for this purpose endeavour to trace theoperation of the principle, both in the case of ideas communicated byobjects without language, and in those conveyed to the mind by means ofwords. That this act of reiteration of an idea by the mind, must take place, before objects of perception can become part of our knowledge, will, wethink, be obvious, from a consideration of the following facts. --When, for example, we are in a crowded room, or in the fields, numerous soundsenter the ear, --thousands of images enter into and impress the eye, yetnot one of these becomes part of our knowledge till it is _thoughtof_;--that is, till the idea suggested by the sensation, has not onlybeen perceived, but reiterated by the mind. This will appear to many soplain, that any farther illustration of the fact may be deemed useless. But experience, has shewn, that the illustration of this importantprocess in education, is not only expedient, but is really necessary; asthe overlooking of this simple principle has often been the cause ofgreat inconsistencies on the part of teachers. We shall thereforeendeavour to exhibit the working of the principle in various forms, thatit may be fully appreciated when we come to apply it. Let us then suppose two children taken silently through a museum ofcuriosities, the one active and lively, the other dull and listless. Itwould be found on retiring, that the former would be able to give anaccount of many things which he saw, and that the other would rememberlittle or nothing. In this case, all the objects in the exhibition wereseen by both; and the question arises, "Why does the knowledge of theone, so much exceed that of the other?" The reason is, that the mind ofthe one was active, while the mind of the other was in a great measureinactive. Both _saw_ the objects; but only one _looked at_ them. The oneactively employed his mind--fixed his eye on an object, and thought ofit; that is, he reiterated the ideas it suggested to him, whether as toform, or colour, or movement, and by doing so, the ideas thusreiterated, were effectively received, and given over to the keeping ofthe memory. The other child saw the whole; they were perhaps objects ofperception; but he allowed his sensations to die away as they werereceived; and his mind was left to wander, or to remain under the dreamyinfluence of a mere passive and evanescent train of thought. His"attention" was not arrested;--his mind was not actively engaged on anyof the articles he saw; in other words, the ideas which they suggestedwere not "reiterated. "[4] Now, that it was the want of this mental reiteration which was thecause, and the only cause, why this very usual means of acquiringknowledge failed to communicate it, may be proved we think by a verysimple experiment. For if we shall suppose that the child who wasobtaining no knowledge by means of the various curiosities around him, had been asked at the time a question respecting any of them, --a stuffeddog, for example, --his attention would have been arrested, and his mindwould have been roused to active thought. The words, "What is that?"from his teacher, or companion, would have made him look at it, andreiterate the ideas of its form and colour, so far as to enable him togive an answer. And if he does so, it will be found afterwards, onleaving the place, that although he might have remained unconscious ofthe presence of all the other objects in the museum, he will rememberthe stuffed dog, merely because, by the question, the idea it suggestedwas taken up, and reiterated by the mind; while the sensations causedby all the rest, were allowed to pass away. There is another circumstance of daily occurrence, which adds to theevidence that it is this principle which we have called "reiteration, "which forms the chief, if not the only avenue, by which ideas findaccess to the mind; and it is this:--That when at any time we bring torecollection some former circumstance of life, however remote, or whenwe recall any part of our former knowledge or experience, it comes up tothe mind, accompanied with the perfect consciousness, that, at the timewe are thinking of, this act of reiteration had taken place upon it;that we most assuredly have thought of it before. We are not morecertain that it occupies our thoughts now, than we are that it did sowhen it occurred;--that the operation of which we are at presentspeaking, did actually then take place; and that it was by our doing sothen, that it is remembered now. This circumstance, when dulyconsidered, is of itself, we think, a sufficient proof, that no part ofour knowledge, --not a single idea, --can be acquired, or retained on thememory by any other process, than by this act of reiteration. Hence then it is plain, that all the knowledge which we receive byobservation, without the use of language, is received and retained onthe memory by the operation of this principle; and we will now proceedto shew, that the same process must also take place, when our ideas arereceived by means of _words_, whether these be spoken or read. It is of great importance for us to remember, that the only legitimateuse of words is to convey ideas; and that Nature rigidly refuses toacknowledge any other use to which they may be put. Hence it is, that inconversation, we are quite unconscious of the words which our frienduses in communicating his ideas. Nature impels us to lay hold of theideas alone; and in proof of this we find, that we have only to attemptto concentrate our attention upon the _words_ he uses, and then we aresure to lose sight of the _ideas_ which the words were intended toconvey. Hence it is, that our opinion of the style, and the language, and the manner of a speaker, when the subject itself is not familiar, are formed more by indirect impressions, than by direct attention tothese things while he speaks; and oftener by reflection afterwards, thanby any critical observation during the time. The reason of this, we mayremark once for all, is, that what the mind reiterates itremembers, --but nothing more. If during the hearing, it reiterates theideas, it will then remember the ideas; but if it reiterates the wordswithout the ideas, it will remember nothing but words. Those thereforewho sow words in the minds of the young, hoping afterwards to reapideas, are as inconsistent as those who seek to "gather grapes ofthorns, or figs of thistles. "[5] Knowledge is received by the use of words in two ways, --either by oralspeech, or by written language; but in both cases, the reception of theideas is still governed by reiteration. We shall endeavour to examinethe operation in both cases. Let us suppose that a teacher announces to a class of young children, that "Cain killed his brother Abel, "--and then examines the state ofeach child's mind in regard to it. All of them heard the words, but someonly perhaps are now in possession of the truth communicated. Those whoare so, followed the teacher in his announcement, not so much inreiterating the words, as in reiterating the idea, --the truth itself;and therefore it is, that they are now acquainted with the fact. Ofthose who heard, but have failed to add this truth to their stock ofknowledge, there may be two classes;--those who attended to what wassaid, but failed to interpret the words; and those whose attention wasnot excited at all. Those who failed to interpret the words, or toextract the idea from them, reiterated the _words_ to themselves, andwould perhaps be able to repeat the words again, but they do so in thesame manner that a person reads or repeats words in an unknown tongue. The idea, --the truth, --is not yet perceived, and therefore cannot beremembered. The others who remember nothing, have reiterated nothing;their minds remained inactive. They also heard the words, but theyfailed to listen to them; in the same way as they often see objects, butdo not look at them. Here it is evident that every child who reiteratedthe idea in his own mind, is in possession of the fact communicated; andall who did not do so, even although they reiterated the words, have noaddition made to their knowledge; which shews that it is only by thisact of the reiteration of the ideas, that any portion of our knowledgeis ever acquired. That this is a correct exhibition of the principle, and a legitimateinference from the phenomena, may be still farther proved by anexperiment similar to one formerly recommended. Let the teacher, in themiddle of a story, ask some of the inattentive pupils a questionrespecting some of the persons or things he is speaking about, and forcethe reiteration of that part of the narrative in the child's mind bygetting an answer, and it will be found at the close, that although hemay remember nothing else of all that he heard, yet he will mostperfectly remember that part about which he was questioned, andrespecting which he returned an answer. The same thing may be ascertained by our own experience, in hearing alecture or sermon, or even in conversation with a friend. In thesecases, as long as our attention is kept up, --that is, as long as wecontinue to reiterate the ideas that we hear, --we may remember them; butwhen our minds flag, or wander; in other words, when we cease toreiterate the ideas of the speaker, the sounds enter our ear, but thematter is gone. All that has been said during that period of inattentionhas been lost; it never has formed, and never can form, part of ourknowledge. Thus we see, that in the act of hearing oral communications, theprinciple of reiteration of the ideas is obviously necessary for theacquiring of knowledge; and we shall now shew, that it is equallynecessary in the act of reading. Many persons must have witnessed children reading distinctly, andfluently perhaps, who yet were not made one whit wiser by what theyread. The act of reading was correctly performed, and yet there was noaccession to their knowledge. The cause of this is easily explained. The_ideas_ conveyed by the words have not been reiterated by themind, --perhaps they were never perceived. For as long as the act ofreading is difficult, the words undergo this process first, and theideas must be gleaned afterwards. Hence it is, that children, whenhurried from lesson to lesson before they can read them so easily as toperceive and reiterate the ideas while reading, acquire the habit ofdecyphering the words alone, and the eye from practice readsmechanically, while the mind at the moment is usually wandering, or isengaged in attending to something else. Nature, as we have before shewedin the act of hearing, does not intend that the mind should payattention both to the words and the ideas at the same time; and readingbeing only an artificial substitute for hearing, is made subject to thesame law. It is the _ideas_ that Nature induces us to grapple with; andthe reading of words like the hearing of language, is merely the meansemployed to get at them. Hence the necessity of children being taught toread fluently, and with perfect ease, before they leave the school; andthe neglect of this is the reason why so many after leaving school, derive so little instruction from the use of books. Of theseindividuals, experience shews, that many, who on leaving school couldnot collect ideas by their mode of mechanical reading, yet persevere, and at last teach themselves by long practice to understand what theyread; while there are not a few who, in similar circumstances, becomediscouraged, abandon the practice of reading, and soon forget the artaltogether. Of the correctness of these facts, every one may be convinced, byrecollecting what must often have taken place with himself. When at anytime the mind is exhausted while reading, we continue to read on, pageafter page, and when we have finished, we find, that not a single truthhas made its way to the memory. Now this did not arise from anydifficulty in comprehending the ideas in the book, because it does notmake much difference whether the subject has been simple or otherwise;neither did it arise from the want of all mental activity, for the mindwas so much engaged as to read every word and every letter in the pagesupon which we were occupied. But it arose entirely from the want of thatprinciple of which we are here speaking. The words were readmechanically, and the ideas were either not thought of, or at least theywere not reiterated by the mind, and therefore it is that they arelost, --and no effort can ever again recall them. The proof of theaccuracy of these views will still be found in the circumstance, thatif, while the person is reading, this act of the reiteration of some oneor more of the ideas be in any way forced upon him, _these_ ideas thusreiterated will afterwards be remembered, although all the others arelost. Here then we have arrived at a principle connected with the acquisitionof knowledge, by attending to which education may be made most efficientfor that purpose; but without which, education must remain a meremechanical routine of barren exercises. No idea, no truth, we have seen, can ever form part of our knowledge, till it has undergone thisparticular mental process, which we have called "reiteration. " If theidea, or truth, intended to be communicated, be reiterated by themind, --thought over again, --it will then be remembered:--but if it benot reiterated by the mind, it never can. It is also worthy of remark, that the tenacity with which the memory keeps hold of any idea or truth, depends greatly upon the vigour of the mind at the time, and still moreperhaps upon the frequency of its reiteration. If a child, howeverlanguid, is forced to this act of reiteration of an idea but once, itwill be remembered for a longer or a shorter time; but if his mind bevigorous and lively, and more especially if he can be made _repeatedly_to reiterate the same idea in his mind at intervals, he will on thataccount, retain it much more tenaciously, and will have it at thecommand of the will more readily. Hence the vividness with which thescenes and the circumstances of youth arise upon the mind, and thetenacity with which the memory holds them. These scenes were of dailyoccurrence; and the small number of remarkable circumstances connectedwith childhood and youth having few rivals to compete with them inattracting the attention, were witnessed frequently with all the vigourand liveliness of the youthful mind, as yet unburdened with care. Theywere of course frequently subjected to observation, and as frequentlyreiterated by the mind, and have on these accounts ever since beenvividly pictured by the imagination, and continue familiar to thememory. It also accounts for another circumstance of common occurrence. For when, even in early infancy, any event happened which made a deeperimpression upon the mind than usual, that simple circumstance willgenerally outlive all its neighbours, and will take precedence in pointof distinct recollection to the close of life. The reason of this is, not only the deep impression it made upon the mind at the moment, butprincipally because it had so strongly excited the feelings, that it wasoftener thought of then and afterwards;--in other words, this act ofreiteration occurred more frequently with respect to it than theothers, and therefore it is now better remembered. This is a principle then of which the Educationist should takeadvantage. For if Nature invariably communicates knowledge by inducingher pupils to exercise their own minds on the subject taught, it isplain that the teacher should follow the same plan. His pupils cannotremain mentally inactive, and yet learn; neither can the mere routine ofverbal exercises either cultivate the mind or increase knowledge. Theseare but the husks of education, which may tantalize and weaken, butwhich can never satisfy the cravings of the young mind for information. Their mental food must be of a perfectly different kind, consisting of_ideas_, and not of _words_; and these ideas they must receive andconcoct by the active use of their own powers. The teacher must no doubtselect the food for his pupils, and prepare it for their reception, bybreaking it down into morsels, suited to their capacities. But this isall. They must eat and digest it for themselves. The pupil must thinkover in his own mind, and for himself, all that he is either to know orremember. The ideas read or heard must be reiterated byhimself, --thought over again, --if he is ever to profit by them. Withoutthis, no care or pains on the part of the teacher, no exertion on thepart of the pupil, will be of any avail. All the knowledge that he seemsto acquire in any other way is repudiated by Nature; and howeverplausible the exercise may appear, it will ultimately be found fruitlessand vain. FOOTNOTES: [3] Note B. [4] Note C. [5] Note D. CHAP. V. _On the Acquisition of Knowledge by the Principle of Individuation. _ Nature, as we have seen, has rendered it imperative that the act ofreiteration should be performed upon every idea before it can have anentrance into the mind, or be retained by the memory; but as theindividual cannot reiterate, or think over, all the ideas suggested tohim by the innumerable objects of sensation with which he is surrounded, it next becomes a matter of importance to ascertain the means employedby Nature for enabling her pupils to receive and retain the greatestnumber of ideas, so that they shall ever afterwards remain at thecommand of the will. This she accomplishes by the operation of the threeother principles to which we have adverted; namely, "Individuation, " or"Abstraction, " "Grouping, " or "Association, " and "Classification, " or"Analysis. "--We shall in this chapter attend to the principle of"Individuation, " and endeavour to trace its nature and uses in theacquisition of knowledge by the young. The first thing in an infant that will be remarked by a close observerof Nature is, that while adding to its knowledge by observation, italways confines its attention to one thing at a time, till it hasexamined it. Before the period when this principle becomes conspicuousin an infant, the eye, and the other senses are in a great measureinactive, so far as the mind is concerned; and the first indication ofthe senses really ministering to the mind is the eye chusing an object, and the infant examining that object by itself, without allowing itsattention to be distracted by any thing else. This operation takes place as soon as an infant is capable ofobservation. It fixes its eye upon an object, generally one that is newto it, and it continues to look upon it till it has collected all theinformation that this object can give, or which the limited capacity ofthe infant will enable it to receive. Hence with stationary objects thisinformation is soon acquired; but with moveable objects, or toys, orthings which are capable of varying, or multiplying the ideas receivedby the child, the look is more intense, and the attention is sustainedwithout fatigue for a longer time. Till this information has beenreceived, the child continues to look on; and if the object be removed, the eye still follows it with interest, and gives it up at last withreluctance. That by this concentration of its mind upon one object, theinfant is adding to its knowledge, appears evident from the fact, thatobjects which have already communicated their stock of information, andhave become familiar, are less heeded than those that are new oruncommon. Every new thing excites the curiosity of the child, who is notcontent till that curiosity be gratified. This has been called "the loveof novelty;"--but it is not the love of novelty in the very questionablesense in which many understand that term. On the contrary, it isobviously a wise provision of Nature, suited to the capacity andcircumstances of children, which is to be taken advantage of, forconveying such crumbs and morsels of knowledge as their limited powersare able to receive; and which should never be abused, by presenting tothem an unceasing whirl of names and objects, --a process which fatiguesthe mind, and leaves them without any specific information. It is thesame principle, and is to be considered in the same light, as that whichinduces the philosopher to confine himself to the investigation of onephenomenon till he understands it. The information which the child iscapable of receiving from each of the impressions then made is no doubtsmall; but it is still information--knowledge. --This is what he isseeking; and, at this stage of his progress, it is only acquired by theconcentration of the powers of the mind upon one thing at a time. The effect of this principle in the infant is worthy of remark. --Whilethe pupil remains under the teaching of Nature, there is noconfusion, --no hurry, --no failure. The tasks which she prescribes forhim are never oppressive, and are constantly performed with ease andwith pleasure. --Although there be no selection made by the parent orteacher for the child to exercise his faculties upon, yet heinstinctively selects for himself, without hesitation, and withoutmistake. All the objects in a room or in a landscape are before him: yethe is never oppressed by their number, nor bewildered by theirvariety. --His mind is always at ease. --He chooses for himself; but henever selects more for his special observation at one time than he canconveniently attend to. When the objects are new, his attention isrestricted to one till it be known; and then, but not till then, as weshall immediately see, he is able, and delights to employ himself ingrouping it with others. In early infancy this attention to one object is protracted and slow, till he gradually acquires sufficient energy of mind by practice. --Everyone must have observed how slowly the eye of an infant of two or threemonths old moves after an object, in comparison with one of ten. --Buteven in the latter case, when the glance is lively and rapid, the sameprinciple of individuation continues to operate. The information from anunknown object must still be received alone, and without distraction, although by that time the child is capable of receiving it more quickly. He is not now satisfied with viewing an object on one side, but he mustview it on all sides. He endeavours by various means to acquire everyone of the ideas which it is capable of communicating. His new toy isviewed with delight and wonder; and his eye by exercise can now scan ina moment its different parts. --But this is not enough; he has nowlearned to make use of his other senses, and he employs them also, forthe purpose of becoming better acquainted with the object which he iscontemplating. His toy is seized, mouthed, handled, turned, looked at onall sides, till all the information it can communicate has beenreceived;--and then only is it cast aside for something else, which isin its turn to add to his stock of knowledge. The circumstance to which we would especially call attention at presentis, the singleness of thought exercised upon the object, during the timethat the child is amused by it. --He attends to nothing else, and he willlook at nothing else; and were his attention forced from it for amoment, this is evidently done unwillingly; and, when allowed, itimmediately returns to the object. It is also worthy of notice, that if, while he is so engaged, we attempt to teach him something else, or inother words, to induce him to divide his attention upon some other newobject, the distraction of his mind is at once apparent; we perceivethat it is unnatural; and we find by experience that he does not profitby either. Now, from these indications it must be evident, that anyinterference with this principle of individuation in teaching any thingfor the first time, must always be hurtful:--on the contrary, byattending to the principle, and acting upon it in the training of theyoung, it must be productive of the happiest effects. --While acted upon, under the guidance of Nature, its efficiency and power are astonishing. It is by means of this principle, that the infant mind, with all itsimbecility and want of developement, acquires and retains more realknowledge in the course of a few months, than is sometimes received atschool afterwards during as many years. --Few things are more cheering inprospect than the knowledge of this fact; for what may we not expectfrom the _man_, when his education while a _child_ shall have beenimproved, and approximated to that of Nature! The operation of the principle of individuation, is not confined to theinfant, but continues to maintain its place during all the after stagesof life, whenever any thing new and uncommon is presented as an objectof knowledge. Every thing is new to the infant, and therefore thisprinciple is more conspicuous during the early stages of education. --Butit is still equally necessary for the child or the youth in similarcircumstances; and Nature compels him, as it were, still to concentratethe powers of his mind upon every new object, till he has received andbecome familiar with the information it is calculated to furnish. --Everyone must have observed the intensity with which a child examines anobject which he has never seen before, and the anxiety which he evincesto know all about it. --It requires a considerable effort on his ownpart, and still greater on the part of others, to detach his mind fromthe object, till it has surrendered the full amount of information whichthe young enquirer is seeking. The boy with his new drum will attend tonothing else if he can help it, as long as he has any thing to learnconcerning it, and the noises it is capable of producing. --And even whenhe has tired himself with beating it, he is not satisfied till he hasexplored its contents, to find out the cause which has created thesounds. The girl with her doll, in the same way, will voluntarily thinkof nothing else, as long as it can provide her with mental exercise;that is, as long as it can add something new to her present stock ofknowledge. And it is here worthy of remark, that the apparent exceptionin this case, arising from the greater length of time that a doll and afew other similar toys will amuse a child, is in reality a strikingconfirmation, and illustration of the principle of which we arespeaking. --Such toys amuse longer, because it is longer before thevariety of which they are capable is exhausted. --The doll is fondled, and scolded, and cradled, and dressed, and undressed in so manydifferent ways, that the craving for new ideas continues for a longperiod to be amply gratified;--but the effect would be quite different, were the very same doll placed where it could only be looked at. Everynew movement with the toy is employed by Nature, for the cultivation ofthe mental powers, by reiterating the ideas thus imparted, and on whichthe imagination delights to dwell; and also in receiving a knowledge ofindividual objects and ideas, which, when once known, are to form theelements of future groupings, and of an endless variety of information. It is here of importance to recollect, that almost all the informationreceived by children, is of a sensible kind. They can form little or noidea of abstract truths. The mind and the memory must be stored withsensible objects, --first individually, and then by grouping, --before thechild can arrive at a capacity for abstraction. Nature's first object, therefore, is to store the memory and imagination of the young with thenames and images of things, which, as we have seen, are acquiredindividually, and, when once known, are remembered for future use. Butthose things which they have not yet seen, or felt, or heard, or tasted, are totally beyond their conception, and cannot be of any service, either in grouping, or classification. --Hence the great importance ofallowing the young mind to act freely in acquiring new ideas by thisprinciple of individuation; as without this, all the lessons into whichsuch ideas shall afterward be introduced, must be in a great measurelost. Even adults can form no idea of an unknown object, except bycompounding it of something that they already know. And this is at leastequally the case with children; who, till they can group and compareobjects which they have seen, can realize no idea of any thing, howeversimple, that has not previously been subjected to the senses. --Hence, therefore, the importance at this period of a child's education, ofconfining the attention chiefly to sensible objects, and of notconfounding his faculties, by too early an introduction of abstractideas. Here then we have been able to detect the method by which Natureselects, and enables her pupils to prepare the materials of which theirfuture knowledge is to be compounded. These materials are the ideas ofsensible objects, and their properties and uses; which must be gatheredand stored one by one. By inducing them to attempt to seize even two ata time, they will most probably lose both, and their powers ofcollecting and storing will, by the same attempt, be injured andweakened. It is by means of this principle of individuation, that, withthe most intense craving for information, and while placed amonginnumerable objects calculated to gratify it, the infant and the childremain perfectly collected, without the slightest appearance ofdistraction of mind, or confusion of ideas. With his thirst of knowledgeardent and constant, it enables him with the greatest delight to addhourly to his stores of knowledge, without difficulty, withoutirritation, and without fatigue. The application of these truths to the business of education, we shallattend to in its proper place; in the meantime we may remark, of howmuch importance it is, that all knowledge communicated to the young besimple, and that for some time it consist chiefly of sensible objects, and their qualities;--objects which they either know, or can have accessto. Abstract subjects are not suited for children, till they can group, and classify, and compare the sensible objects with which they arealready acquainted. The aim of the teacher, therefore, ought to be, strictly to follow Nature in this early stage of her operations, and tofurnish food for his pupils, of the proper kind, and in properproportions;--keeping the thinking powers constantly in healthfulexercise, by giving as many ideas as the mind can reiterate withoutfatigue; but carefully avoiding all hurry or force, seeing that thepowers of the mind are greatly weakened and injured by a multiplicity ofobjects, particularly when they are presented so rapidly, that thethoughts have not time to settle upon them, nor the mind to reiteratethe ideas which they suggest. CHAP. VI. _On the Application of Knowledge by the Principle of Association, orGrouping. _ Another principle which exhibits itself in the acquisition of knowledgeby Nature's pupils, is that of "grouping, " or associating objectstogether, after they are individually known. A child, or even an infant, who is frightened, or alarmed, or who suffers any severe injury, remembers the several circumstances, and has the place, the persons, andthe things connected with the event, all associated together, andgrouped into one scene or picture on the memory. These objects may havebeen numerous; but by the operation of this principle, they have allbeen apprehended, and united so powerfully with each other, that nofuture effort of the child can either separate or obliterate any portionof them; and so comprehensive, that the recollection of any one of thecircumstances instantly recalls all the others. These groupings in the mind of a child, formed chiefly by means of theimagination, are almost wholly compounded of sensible objects; and theonly necessary prerequisite for their formation appears to be aknowledge of the individual elements of which they are to be composed. If an unknown object be presented to the mind in connection with theothers that are known, it is generally excluded, and the thingspreviously known retained. For example, in the case supposed above, ofan accident occurring to a child, there would be thousands of objectspresent, and all cognisable by the senses; but not one of all these thatwere unknown, that is, that had not previously undergone the process ofindividuation, is found to form part of the remembered group. There is another circumstance connected with the operation of thisprinciple in the young, which is of importance. Almost the whole of achild's knowledge is composed of these groupings. Before thedevelopement of the reasoning powers, by which the individual is enabledto _classify_ the elements of his knowledge, there is no way ofremembering these elements in connection with each other, except by thisprinciple. If, therefore, we change the order or relative position ofthe elements or objects which compose the scene, or group, we draw theattention of the pupil altogether from the former, and create anotherwhich is entirely new;--in the same way as the transposition of thefigures in any sum, forms another of an entirely different amount. Thedrawing-room, for example, is seen by the children of the family withthe fire-place, the cabinet, the sofas, the tables, and other stationaryornaments, in certain relative positions, and this grouping of thoseobjects is to them in reality all that they know of the room. Anymaterial change in shifting these objects to other places in theapartment, would, to the _parent_, whose judgment is ripened, producefeelings comparatively slight; but, to the younger branches of thefamily who group, but cannot as yet classify, it would appear like thecomplete annihilation of the former apartment. The different arrangementof a few of the articles only, would to them create another, and anentirely different room. This leads us to observe another circumstance connected with theoperation of this principle, in the instruction of the young, which isthe remarkable fact, that, by making the child familiar with a very fewprimitive elements, a parent or teacher may communicate an almostinfinite variety of groupings, or stories, for cultivating the mind, andincreasing the knowledge of his pupil. Hence it is, that hundreds ofagreeable and useful little histories have been composed for children, with no other machinery than a mamma and her child, and the occasionalintroduction of a doll or a dog, a cat or a canary bird. To the child, there is in these numerous groupings no appearance of sameness, nor wantof variety; and although so much circumscribed in their originalelements, they never fail to amuse and delight. The most important circumstance, however, connected with the working ofthis principle in the education of the young, appears to be thenecessity of a previous familiarity with the individual objects, beforethe child is called upon to group them. If this has been attended to, the grouping of these into any combination will be easy andpleasant;--but if his attention be called from the group, to examineexclusively even but one of its elements, the operation is checked, themind becomes confused, its powers are weakened, and the grouping hasagain to commence under serious disadvantages. To illustrate this point, let us suppose a child introduced to thebustle and sports of a common fair. Here he sees thousands both offamiliar and strange objects, all of which are calculated to excite hismind to increased attention; and yet the child, while greatly amused, isstill perfectly at his ease. There is not the slightest indication ofhis being incommoded by the numerous objects about him; no confusion ofideas, no distraction of mind, no mental distress of any kind; but, onthe contrary, in the midst of so much to see and to learn, the younglooker-on is not only at his ease, but appears to be delighted. Thereason of this is, that he is not by any external force compelled toattend to _all_ that he sees; and Nature within directs him to attend tono more than he is able to group, or reiterate in his thoughts. We shallendeavour to examine this condition of the child's mind in suchcircumstances a little more particularly. The child in the circumstances supposed, must either be a spectator ingeneral, or an examiner in particular; in other words, he must eitheremploy himself with the principle of combination or grouping, or withthe principle of individuation, --but he never attempts to employ himselfwith both at the same time. If he amuses himself as an observer ingeneral, he is engaged in grouping objects which are already familiar tohim; but while he is so engaged, he never directs his attention to anyone unknown object for the purpose of examining it for the first time byitself. He passes over all the minute and unknown objects with a glance, and attends only to the grouping or associating of those which arealready familiar. Nature induces him, while thus employed, to pass byall these minute and unknown objects; because, if he were to dootherwise, his observation in general would instantly be recalled, andhis whole attention would be monopolized by the object which he hadresolved to examine, to the exclusion of every other for the time. This, however, is not what he seeks; and he employs himself entirely in thegrouping of things which are already known. His mind is left at ease, and in the possession of all its powers; he looks only at those thingswhich please him; and he passes over all the others without effort ordifficulty. But if the boy shall come to something strange and new, which he isdesirous of studying more closely, he immediately becomes an examiner inparticular; but, at the same moment, he ceases to be an observer ingeneral. The extended business of the fair, and the several groupings ofwhich it is composed, are lost sight of for the moment;--the principleof individuation begins to act, and the operation of the principle ofassociation, or grouping, is at the same moment brought to a stand. Thetwo are incompatible, and cannot act together; and therefore Naturenever allows the one to interfere with the other. To shew the evil effects of overlooking this important law of Nature inthe education of a child, we have only to attend to the painful resultswhich would be the consequence of acting contrary to it, even in thevigorous mind of an adult. Let us for this purpose suppose a person of apowerful understanding, and a capacious mind, ushered for the firsttime, and for only five minutes into a crowded apartment in some easterncaravansary, or eastern bazaar, in which every thing to him was new andstrange; and let us also suppose that it was imperatively demanded ofhim, that he should, in that short space of time, make himselfacquainted with all that was going on, and be able, on his retiring, minutely to describe all that he saw. The first moment he entered, andthe first strange object that caught his eye, would convince him that_the thing was impossible_. If, without such a demand, he had beenintroduced into such a place, and had seen various groups of strangepersons differently employed, each engaged in a manner altogether new tohim, and the nature of which was wholly unknown, he might look on withperfect composure, and considerable amusement, because he could attend, like the boy in the fair, either to the general mass, to isolatedgroups, or to individual things. He would in that case attend to no morethan he was able to understand; and would placidly allow the other partsof the scene to pass without any particular attention. But theimperative injunction here supposed, --this pressure from without, --thisartificial and unnatural demand upon him, --entirely alters the case. Ifhe even attempted to make himself master of all the particulars of thescene in a circumscribed portion of time, he would find himselfbewildered and confounded. The very attempt to individualize and togroup so many various objects at the same moment, within such a limitedperiod, would be enough to prostrate all the powers of his mind. Hemight perhaps be able to observe the persons and their costume, becausevarieties of persons and dresses are daily and constantly objects ofobservation, and are grouped without difficulty; but of their severalemployments, of which he was previously ignorant, he could know nothing, and on retiring, he would neither be able to remember nor to describethem. In such an experiment, it would be found, that the more anxious hewas to perfect his task and to answer the demand, in the same proportionwould he find himself harassed and distressed, and the powers of hismind overstretched and weakened. And if this would be the result ofconfounding the principles of individuation and grouping in anadult, --a person of good understanding, and of vigorous mind, --how muchmore hurtful must such a task be, when demanded from children or youthsof ordinary capacity, during their attendance at school! Few we believe will doubt the general accuracy of the above results inthe cases supposed;--but some may perhaps question, whether they reallydo arise from the interference of these two antagonist principles duringthe experiment. To shew that this is the real cause of the distressfelt, and the weakness and prostration of mind produced during it, wehave only to institute another experiment which is exactly parallel. Letus suppose the same person, and for the same limited period, usheredinto the traveller's room in a well frequented hotel, and let us alsosuppose, that the very same demand is made imperative, that he shallobserve, and again detail when he retires, all that he sees. Let us alsosuppose, that the number of persons here is equally great, and thattheir employments are all equally diversified, but that each is familiarto him; and we will at once see that the difficulty of the task isreally as nothing. A child could accomplish it. His eye would be able togroup the whole in an instant, without effort, and without fatigue. Ifhe saw one party at supper, another at tea, another group at cards, andothers amusing themselves at draughts and backgammon; one minute insteadof five, would be quite enough to make him master of the whole. Onretiring, he would be able to tell the employment of every group in theroom; and if any of his acquaintances had made part of the number, hewould be able to tell who they were, where they were sitting, and howthey were occupied. In doing all this he would find no difficulty; andyet the knowledge he has received is entirely new, and so extensive, that it would take at least ten fold more time to rehearse it, than ittook to acquire it. The entire scene also would be permanently imprintedby the imagination upon the memory; and the whole, or any part of it, could be recalled, and reviewed, and rehearsed, at any future period. Here then are two cases, precisely similar in their nature, andundertaken by the very same person, where the results are widelydifferent; and we now see, that the difference arises entirely from theprinciple of individuation having prepared the way in the one case, while it was not allowed to operate in the other. From these circumstances taken together, we perceive, that the groupingof objects, when once they are individually familiar, is never adifficult task, but is rather one of gratification and pleasure;--and wealso are taught, that the amount of knowledge thus pleasantlycommunicated to a child may be most extensive and valuable, while thematerials necessary for the purpose, being comparatively few, may bepreviously rendered familiar with very little exertion. It is theconfounding of these two principles in the communication of knowledge, that makes learning appear so forbidding to the young, and prevents thatcultivation of the mental powers by their exercises which these wouldotherwise infallibly produce. By keeping each in its proper place, achild will soon acquire a thorough knowledge of the few elementsnecessary for the purpose; and these, when acquired, may be grouped bythe teacher into thousands of forms, for extending the knowledge, andfor invigorating the mind of his delighted pupil. The benevolence and wisdom of this beautiful arrangement in theeducational process of Nature, are truly wonderful; and in proportion asit is so, every deviation from it on our parts will be attended withdisappointment and evil. If all our ideas were to be acquired andretained by the principle of individuation alone, the memory beingwithout help or resting place, would soon become so overpowered by theirnumber, that our knowledge would be greatly circumscribed, and its useimpeded. Of the benefits arising from attention to the principle wehave many apt illustrations in ordinary life, among which the variousgroupings of the ten numeral figures into sums of any amount, and theforming of so many thousands of words by a different arrangement of theletters of the alphabet, are familiar examples. When a child knows theten numerals, he requires no more teaching to ascertain the preciseamount of any one number among all the millions which these figures canrepresent. The value of such an acquirement can only be appreciated byconsidering the labour it would cost a child to gain a knowledge of allthese sums individually, and the overwhelming burden laid upon hismemory if each of the millions of sums had to be remembered by aseparate character. By the knowledge and various groupings of only tensuch characters, the whole of this mighty burden is removed. In the art of writing, the same principle is brought into operation withcomplete success, by the combination, or various groupings of thetwenty-six letters of the common Roman alphabet in the formation ofwords. The value of this adaptation of the principle will be obvious, ifwe shall suppose, that a person who is acquainted with all the modernEuropean languages, had been compelled to discriminate, and continue toremember, a distinct arbitrary mark or character for the many thousandsof words contained in each. We may not be warranted, perhaps, to saythat such a task would be impossible; but that it would be inconceivablyburdensome can admit of no doubt. We have, indeed, in the writings ofthe Chinese, although it is but one language, a living monument of theevil effects of the neglect of this principle in literature, and theunceasing inconveniences which daily arise from that empire continuingto persevere in it. There is comparatively but little combination ofcharacters in their words, and the consequences are remarkable. In thatextensive empire, the highest rewards, and the chief posts of honourand emolument, are held out to those who are most learned, whatever betheir rank or their station; and yet, amidst a population immersed inpoverty and wretchedness, not one person in a thousand can master evenone of their books; and not one in ten thousand of those who profess toread, is able to peruse them all. The reason of this simply is, theneglect of this natural principle of grouping letters, or the signs ofsounds, in their written language. With us, the elements of all thewords in all the European languages are only twenty-six; and the childwho has once mastered the combination of these, in any one of our books, has the whole of our literature at his command. The application of this principle to the elements of general knowledgeis equally necessary, as its application to written language. Thedifficulty of remembering the many thousands of unconnected charactersin Chinese literature, is an exact emblem of what will always be thecase with children in respect to their general knowledge, when thisprinciple of association, or grouping, is neglected. Adults acquire andretain a large portion of _their_ knowledge, as we shall afterwards see, by the principle of classification and analysis; but _children_ are notas yet capable of this; and they must receive their knowledge by thegrouping of a few simple elements previously known, or they will not beable to receive and retain knowledge at all. The amount of thisknowledge also, it should be kept in mind, is not at all in proportionto the number or the variety of the elements of which that knowledge iscomposed. We have formerly alluded to this, and it may be fartherillustrated by a circumstance of daily occurrence. A seaman when heobserves a vessel at a distance knows her class and character in aninstant, whether she be a sloop or a brig, a schooner or a ship, and heforms an instantaneous idea of all her parts grouped into a whole. Hismemory, instead of being harassed in remembering the shape, and place, and position of each of its several parts, is relieved of the whole bythe operation of this principle of association. The whole rigging, aboutwhich his mind is occupied, is composed of only _three_ elements, --ropes, and spars, and sails, --with each of which he has long ago made himselffamiliar. All the remaining parts of this kind of knowledge are a merematter of grouping. By previously observing the varied arrangement of thespars, and ropes, and sails, on the several masts of the different kindsof vessels, he has already grouped them into one whole, and each isremembered by itself without effort, and without mistake. They areretained, as it were, painted by the imagination upon the memory, and mayat any after period be recalled and reviewed at pleasure. Hence the sightof a vessel in the distance calls up the former pictures to the mind, andenables the practised eye of the mariner to decide at once as to the kindand character of what he so imperfectly sees. --This helps also to explainthe reason why children are so gratified with pictures when presented tothe eye; and why they are best pleased when the figures are most simpleand distinct, and particularly, when the objects grouped in the picturehave previously been familiar. Pictures are indeed a pretty closeimitation of Nature in this part of her work; and they are defectivechiefly on account of their want of _motion_ and _continuity_. These last are two great and inimitable characteristics in all thegroupings painted upon the memory by the imagination. From all this it is obvious, that there is an essential differencebetween a child's acquiring the knowledge of things individually, andacquiring a knowledge of their several associations. The two must never, if possible, be confounded with each other. When they are kept distinctin the education of a child, he has an evident pleasure in attending toeither; but as soon as they are allowed to interfere, and moreespecially when they are systematically blended together in the sameexercise, he experiences confusion, irritation, and fatigue. There is nonecessity, however, for this ever being the case. All that is requiredis, that the few individual elements that are to be grouped orassociated in a lesson, whether they be objects or ideas, shallpreviously be made familiar to the pupil. These, when once known, may bebrought before the mind of the child in any variety of order or form, and will be received readily and pleasantly, and will be retained by thememory without confusion, and without effort. By attention to these twoprinciples, keeping each in its proper place, and bringing each to aidand uphold the other in its proper order, it will be found, that a childmay be taught more real knowledge in one week, than is oftencommunicated in other circumstances in the course of a year. CHAP. VII. _On the Acquisition of Knowledge by the Principle of Analysis, orClassification. _ There is yet another principle brought into operation by Nature toenable her pupils to receive, to retain, and to make use of theirknowledge. This is the principle of Classification, or Analysis. [6] Thedifference between this and the former principle described we think issufficiently marked. The principle of Association, or Grouping, iscarried on chiefly by means of the imagination, and begins to operate assoon as the mind is capable of imagining any thing; but the principle ofClassification, or Analysis, is more intimately connected with thejudgment. The consequence of this is, that it is but very partiallycalled into action during the early stages of a child's education, andis never able to operate with vigour, till the reasoning powers of thepupil begin to develope themselves. The characteristic differences between the two principles, and theirrespective uses in education, may be illustrated by a circumstance ofevery-day occurrence. For example, a child who from infancy has beenbrought up in a house of several apartments, gets acquainted with eachof the rooms by means of its contents. He has been in the habit ofseeing the heavy pieces of furniture in each apartment in a certainplace and order, and the room and its furniture, therefore, areidentified together, and remain painted upon his imagination exactly ashe has been in the habit of seeing them. In this case, the articles offurniture in the room are grouped, and not classified; and areremembered together, not on account of their nature and uses, but purelyon account of their position, and their relative arrangement in theroom. Most of our readers perhaps, will remember the strange feelingsproduced in their minds during some period of their childhood, when inthe house of their infancy, some material alteration of this kind waseffected in one or more of the rooms. A change in the position of a bed, or the abstraction or introduction of a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, orother bulky piece of furniture, causes in the mind of the child aneffect much deeper, and more extensive, than in the adult. The formerpicture of the place never having been observed or contemplated in anyother aspect, is painted by the imagination, and fixed upon his memory, by long continued familiarity. But by this change it is suddenlydefaced; and the new group, partaking as it will do of some of theelements of the old, produces feelings which are strange andunaccountable, and entirely different from those of his parents, whohave been in the habit of contemplating the room and its furniture moreby the exercise of the judgment, than of the imagination; that is, moreby their uses, than by their appearance. The cause of this strangeness of feeling in a child, arises from thepredominance of the principle of grouping, over that of classification. He has as yet no knowledge of any of the apartments in the house, exceptwhat he has received by grouping their contents. When, therefore, theirarrangement is materially altered, the reasoning powers not being as yetable to soften down the effect, the former apartment appears to thechild as if it had ceased to exist. He can scarcely believe it to be thesame. He never thinks of the _uses_ of the articles in the apartment, but only of their _appearance_;--the first being an act of thejudgment, --the latter of the imagination. In a similar manner he thinksof the kitchen and its furniture, not as a part of the householdeconomy, but only in connection with the articles it contains. Thedresser, the jack, and the tin covers, are never thought of inconnection with their uses; but are identified with the kitchen, merelybecause they have always been seen there, and seen together. In likemanner, the seats, the tables, and the ornaments of the drawing-room, are not connected in the child's mind because they are what are commonlycalled "drawing-room furniture, " for that would imply a degree ofreasoning of which he is as yet unacquainted; but they are rememberedtogether, as they have always been observed in that particular place, and are now pictured on the mind, in the position in which they areusually beheld. Their particular locality in the room, and theirrelative position with respect to each other, are of far more importancein assisting the memory of the child, than any knowledge which he has asyet acquired of their respective uses. Though a child had in this way gained an exact knowledge of everyapartment in a house, it is obvious that there may not have been, duringthe whole process, a single act of the understanding. Many of the loweranimals are capable of collecting all the knowledge he has received; andeven infants are, to a certain extent, in the daily habit of acquiringit. But the classification of objects, according to their nature anduses, is an operation of a perfectly different kind. Hence it is, that achange in the arrangement of the furniture of a room acts so slightly onthe feelings of the adult, and so powerfully on the young. In theformer, the reasoning powers neutralize the effect produced; to thelatter, the change appears a complete revolution. This principle of classification, though peculiar to the mature mind, isnot restricted to any particular class of men. It is found to beuniversal, wherever the reasoning powers are capable of acting. It is nodoubt conspicuous in civilized societies, because there it is morecultivated; but it is not confined to them. The savage is prompted toits exercise under the tuition of Nature. For example, the variousarticles and arts which he employs in hunting, are all regularlyclassified in his mind, and retained upon his memory, as perfectlydistinct from those which he employs in fishing; and neither of theseclasses of articles are ever confounded with his implements and weaponsof war. His hooks and lines, are as naturally classified in his mindwith his nets and his canoe, as his club or his tomahawk is with hisother weapons used in battle. It is by this means that Nature aids thememory in the retention of knowledge, and keeps all the successiveaccumulations of the individual at the command of the will. Whencultivated, as Nature designs that it should be, it forms an extensivecabinet in the mind, where every department of knowledge has itsappropriate place; and which, when once systematically formed, can befurnished at leisure. When a new idea is acquired, it is immediately putin its place, and associated with others of the same kind; and when anyportion of the knowledge which we have accumulated is required, we knowat once the particular place where it is to be found. The benefits of this principle in the above form are extensively feltand acted upon in society, even where the principle itself is neitherobserved nor known; for in the family, in the work shop, and in themanufactory, it is of the last importance. It is upon this principlethat a clergyman, for the help of his own memory, as well as forassisting the memory of his hearers, arranges the subject of his sermonsin a classified form;--his text is the root of the classification. Thishe divides into heads, which form the first branch in this table; andthese again he sometimes sub-divides into particulars, which form asecond branch depending on the first, and all proceeding from theroot, --the original text. Similar, but more extensive, is the planadopted in the divisions and subdivisions of objects in the Sciences, such as Botany, Zoology, Chemistry, &c. In all of which the existence ofthis principle in Nature's educational process is acknowledged andexemplified. In these sciences, the efficiency of the principle infacilitating the reception of knowledge, and in assisting the memory inretaining it, and in putting it to use, is universally acknowledged. But there is another form in which the same principle appears, not soobvious indeed, but it is one which is at least equally important in theeducation of the young. Nature always brings it into operation when ateacher, while communicating any series of _connected truths_, such as aportion of history or of science, gives more of the details than themind of his pupil can receive, or his memory retain at one time. It maybe desirable that the pupil should be made thoroughly acquainted withall the minute, as well as with the general circumstances of a historyor a science; but if so, it must be done, not at once, but by degrees, or steps. It is usually done by repeating the course, --"revising, " as itis called, --and that perhaps more than once;--going over all theexercises again and again, till the several parts are perceived andremembered in their connection. In these "revisings, " the mind forms ananalytical table of the subject for itself, consisting of successivesteps, formed by the successive courses. By the first course, orhearing, it is chiefly the great outlines of the subject that areperceived; and these form the first branch of a regular analyticaltable, which every succeeding course of reading or hearing tends to fillup. This will perhaps be best understood by an example. Let us suppose that a young person sits down to read a history for thefirst time, and that he reads it with attention and care. When weexamine the state of his mind after he has finished it, we find that, independently of what, by the principle of grouping, he has got in theform of episode, he has been able to retain only the great outlines ofthe history, and no more. He remembers perhaps of whose reign he hasbeen reading, and the principal events that took place during it; butthe intermediate and minor events, as connected with the history, he hasnot been able to remember. Nothing has been imparted by this firstreading, but the great landmarks of the narrative. These are destined toform the first branch of a regular analytical table, of which the reignof the particular monarch is the root. This is the frame-work of thewhole history of that period, however numerous the minor circumstancesmay be; and a second reading will only enlarge his knowledge of thecircumstances under each of the heads. In other words, it will enablehim to sub-divide them into more minute details or periods, and thusform a series of second branches from each. Now it is quite obvious, that when this analysis of the circumstances of that period is onceformed in the mind, no new event connected with it can ever come to hisknowledge without being classed with some of the others. It will bedisposed of according to the relation which it bears to the partsalready existing; and thus the whole texture will be regularly framed, and every event will have its proper place, and be readily available forfuture use. One part may be filled up and finished before another; butthe regular proportions of the whole remain undisturbed. The pupil has, by the original outline and its several branches, got a date and a placefor every new fact which he may afterwards glean, either in his readingor his conversation; and he has a place in which to put it, where it caneasily be found. When placed there, it is safe in the keeping of thememory, and will always afterwards be at the command of the will. The connection of these circumstances, with the principle in educationwhich we are at present endeavouring to illustrate, may not to some bevery apparent. We shall therefore take another example from acircumstance similar to what occurs every day in ordinary life, and inwhich the principle, in the hands of Nature, is abundantly conspicuous. In the example we are here to give, she forms the several steps of theclassification in a number of hearers by _once_ reading a subject, verysimilar to what she does successively in the mind of one individual by_repeated_ readings. Let us then suppose a teacher with two or three hundred pupils, including every degree of mental capacity, from the youngest child whois able to understand, up to his own classical assistant; and that hereads to them the history of Joseph as given in the Book of Genesis. Letus also suppose, that they all give him their best attention, and thatthey all hear the narrative for the first time. Such an experiment, letit be observed, has its parallel every day, in the church, in the classroom, and in the seminary; and similar effects to those we are about todescribe invariably take place in each of them. When the teacher has read and concluded this lengthened exercise, itwill be found, that no two individuals among his hearers have acquiredthe same amount of knowledge. Some will have received and retained moreof the circumstances, and some less, but no two, strictly speaking, willbe alike. Those whose minds were incapable of connecting the severalparts of the narrative into a whole, will retain what they have receivedin disjointed groups and patches, --episodes, as it were, in thenarrative, --without being able very clearly to perceive its generaldesign. This class, upon whom the principle of association chiefly hasbeen at work, we leave out, and confine ourselves to the state ofknowledge possessed by those who are in a greater or less degree capableof classification, and of taking some cognisance of the narrative as aconnected whole. Among this latter class, some will have retained no more than the bareoutline of the history, interspersed with groupings, as in the youngerchildren. They will remember little more than that Joseph was at first aboy in his father's house;--that he was afterwards a slave, and inprison;--and at last, a great man and a governor. Here the _wholehistory_ is divided into three distinct heads, or eras, --the firstbranch of an analytical table of the whole story, from one or other ofwhich all the other particulars, of whatever kind, must of necessitytake their rise, and branch off in their natural order. An advancedclass of the auditors will have retained some of the more obviouscircumstances connected with _each of these three great divisions_, aswell as the divisions themselves. They will not only remember thatJoseph was a boy in his father's house, but they will also be able toremember the more prominent subdivisions of the narrative regarding himwhile there; such as his father's partiality, his dreams, and hisbrothers' hatred. The second great division will be recollected asincluding the particulars of his being sold, his serving in Potiphar'shouse, and his conduct in prison; and the third division will beremembered as containing his appearance before Pharoah, his laying upcorn, his conduct to his brothers, and his reception of his father andfamily. These subdivisions, it will at once be perceived, form the_second branch_ of a regular analytical table, each of which has sprungfrom, and is intimately connected with, some one or other of the threegreat divisions forming the first branch, of which the "History ofJoseph" is the comprehensive root. In like manner, a third class of the pupils, whose minds have beenbetter cultivated, and whose memories are more retentive, will not onlyremember all this, but they will also remember, in connection with eachof these subdivisions, many of the more specific events included in, orspringing from them, and which carry forward this regular analyticaltable one step farther. As for example, under the subdivision entitled"Joseph's conduct to his brethren, " they will remember the "detention ofSimeon, "--"the feast in the palace, "--"the scene of the cup in thesack, " and "Joseph's making himself known. " Even these again might besubdivided into their more minute circumstances, as a fourth, or even afifth branch, if necessary, all of which might be exactly delineatedupon paper, as a regular analytical table of the history of Joseph. Here, then, we have an example of Nature herself dividing an audienceinto different classes, and that by one and the same operation, --by onereading, --forming in each class part of a regular analytical table ofthe whole history, each class being one step in advance of the other. The first has the foundation of the whole fabric broadly and solidlylaid; and it is worthy of remark, that there is not one of the ideasacquired by the most talented of the hearers, that is not strictly andregularly derived from some one or other of the three general divisionspossessed by the first and the least advanced; and any one of the ideasmay be regularly traced back through the several divisions to the rootitself. The additional facts possessed by the second class, are nothingmore than a more full developement of the circumstances remembered bythe first; and those obtained by the third, are but a more extensivedevelopement of the facts remembered by the second. This being the state of the several classes into which Nature dividesevery audience, it is of importance to trace the means which she employsfor the purpose of _advancing_ each, and of ultimately completing theanalysis; or, in other words, perfecting the knowledge of the narrative, in each individual mind. This is equally beautiful, and equally simple. It is, if we may be allowed the expression, by a regular system ofbuilding. The foundation being laid, and the frame-work of the wholebeing erected, in the knowledge of the great general outline, confusionis ever after completely prevented. Every piece of information connectedwith the history, which may be afterwards received, has a specific placeprovided for it. It must belong to some one or other of the three greatdivisions; and it is there inserted as a part of the general building. It is now remembered in its connection, till all the circumstances, --thewhole of the information, --gradually, and perhaps distantly received, complete the narrative. To follow out this plan of Nature regularly, as in a school education, the method must be exceedingly obvious; for if the first class, by oncehearing the chapters read, have received merely the outline, --theframe-work of the narrative, --it must be obvious, that when this has byreflection become familiar, a second reading would enable them to fillup much of this outline, by which they would be on a par with thesecond. Another reading would, in like manner, add to the second, andform a third; and so forth of all the others. Each reading would addmore and more to the knowledge of the pupil; and yet, every ideacommunicated would be nothing more than a fuller developement of theoriginal outline, --the frame-work, --the skeleton of the story which hehad acquired by the first reading. By successive readings, therefore, the first class will take the place of the second, the second of thethird, and so on to the end. This is Nature's uniform method ofperfecting her pupils in any branch of _connected_ knowledge;--a methodwhich, therefore, it should be the object of the Educationist tounderstand, and closely to imitate. From the cases which we have in this chapter supposed as examples, thereare several important practical inferences to be derived, to which weshall here very briefly advert. In the first place, we are led to infer, from all the cases brought intonotice, that every kind of external force, or precipitation ineducation, is abhorrent to Nature. In each of the cases supposed, wehave a remarkable exhibition of the calm serenity of Nature's operationsin the education of the young. For instance, in the last case supposed, the children all listened, --they all heard the same words, --the mentalfood was the same to each, however diversified their abilities might be;and it was indiscriminately offered in the same form to all, althoughall were not equally prepared to receive and digest it. The resultsaccordingly were, in fact, as various as the number of the personspresent. And yet, notwithstanding of all this, there was no hurry, noconfusion, no attempt to stretch the mind beyond its strength. Eachindividual, according to his capacity, laid hold of as much as his mindcould receive, and silently abandoned the remainder. --But if there hadbeen any external urgency or force employed, to compel the child toaccomplish more than his mind was capable of, this serenity andcomposure would have been destroyed; irritation, and confusion, andmental weakness, would have been the consequence; and altogether, matters would not have been made better, but worse, by the attempt. Another inference, which we think may legitimately be drawn from theabove examples, is this, that although Nature prompts the child silentlyto throw off or reject that which the mind at the time cannot receive, yet it would be better for the child if no more had been pressed uponhim than he was capable of receiving. The very rejection of any portionof the mental food presented for acceptance, must in some measure tendto dissipate the mind, and exhaust its strength. This we think isdemonstrated by the fact, that the child had to listen for _an hour_, and yet retained on his memory no more than experience shews us couldhave been much more successfully communicated in _five minutes_. This leads us to another remark, almost equally important; which is, that the want of classification among the children, will not only hurtthem, but tend to waste the time, and unnecessarily to exhaust thestrength of the teacher. The teacher's success with any one child, isnot to be estimated by the pains he takes, or the extent of his labour, but by the amount of knowledge actually retained by the child. To employan hour's labour, therefore, to communicate that knowledge which couldwith much better effect be given in five minutes, is both unreasonableand improper; and every one who will for a moment think on the subjectmust see, that a lesson, which in that short space of time conveyed thewhole of the knowledge that the pupils had been able to pick up duringthe hour's exercise, would leave the teacher eleven-twelfths of his timeto benefit the other classes. The nurseryman follows this plan with histrees, and with evident success, both in saving time, and room, andlabour. When he sows his acorns, one square yard will contain moreplants than will ultimately occupy an acre. It is only as they increasein growth, that they are thinned out and transplanted; and such shouldbe the case in communicating knowledge to children. To attempt to teachthe whole history at once, is like sowing the whole acre with acorns, and thinning them out during a quarter of a century. The loss of seed inthis case is the least of the evils; for the ground would be robbed ofits strength, nine-tenths of it would be rendered unnecessarily uselessduring a large portion of the time; and much of the anxiety, and care, and labour of the nurseryman would be thrown away. Ultimately he wouldfind, that of the many thousands of oaks he had sowed, he had been ableto rear no more _than the acre could carry_. By following out thisprinciple in education, and giving the child as much as he can receive, and no more, of the whole series of truths to be communicated, his mind, at the close of the exercise, will be much more vigorous, the ideasreceived will be much better understood, more firmly rivetted upon thememory, and much more at the command of the will, while the quantity ofknowledge really communicated, is at least equal in amount. --The onlything indeed that renders a contrary plan of procedure even tolerable toa child, is the wise provision of Nature, by which she induces him tothrow off, with some degree of ease, the superfluous matter; but had thereception and retention of the whole by each child been demanded by theteacher, the very attempt to do so on the part of the pupil, would notonly have been irritating and burdensome, but it would have beenextremely hurtful to the mind, by stretching its powers beyond itsstrength. FOOTNOTES: [6] Note E. CHAP. VIII. _On Nature's Methods of Teaching her Pupils to make use of theirKnowledge. _ We come now to another operation of Nature with the young, to which sheappears to attach more importance than she does to any of her previouseducational processes, and to which she obviously intends that a morethan ordinary attention should be paid on our parts. This is thetraining of her pupils to make use of their knowledge, and to apply theinformation they possess to guide them in the common affairs of life. This is obviously the great end which she has all along had in view; andto which the cultivation of the mind, and the acquisition of knowledgeare merely preparatives. We shall first direct attention to a few of theindications of this principle as they actually appear in ordinary life;and then we shall endeavour to point out some of the laws by which sheappears to regulate them. In the early periods of infancy we can plainly distinguish betweencertain actions which depend upon _instinct_, and which are performed bythe infant perfectly and at once, without experience, and withoutteaching;--and others of which the infant at first appears to beincapable, but which it gradually _acquires_ by experience, or morecorrectly, which it _learns_ by an application of the knowledge which itis daily realizing. Among the former, or instinctive class, we may rankthe acts of sucking, swallowing, and crying, which are purely acts ofinstinct; while among the numerous class belonging to the latter, weinclude all those actions which are progressively improved, and whichare really the result of experience, derived from the application oftheir acquired knowledge. As an example of these, we may instance theacts of winking with the eyelids on the approach of an object to theeye; the avoiding of a blow; the rejection of what is bitter orunpalatable; the efforts made to possess that which has been foundpleasant; and the shunning of those acts for which it has been reprovedor punished. All these, and thousands of similar acts, are really theresult of a _direct application of previous knowledge_, and which, without the possession of that knowledge, never are, nor could beperformed. Mankind in infancy being, in the intention of Nature, placed under thecare of tender and intelligent parents are not provided with manyinstinctive faculties. Their physical welfare is at first leftaltogether to the care of the nurse; but, from a very early period ofconsciousness, they intellectually become the pupils of Nature. Almostall their actions are the results of experience;--of knowledge acquired, and knowledge applied. Their attainments at the beginning are no doubtfew;--but, from the first, they are well marked, and go on withincreasing rapidity. The acquisition of knowledge by them, andespecially the application of it, are evident to the most cursoryobserver. For example, we see a child cling to its keeper, and refuse togo to a stranger;--we see it when hungry stretch out its arms, and cryto get to its nurse;--and when it has fallen in its efforts to walk, itwill not for some time attempt it again. These, and many more which willoccur to the reader, are the results of Nature's teaching;--hersuggestions to her pupil for the right application of its knowledge. Thechild has been taught from experience that it is safe and comfortablewith its keeper, and it applies this knowledge by refusing to leave her. It has learned how, and by whom, its hunger is to be satisfied; and itapplies this knowledge by seeking to be with its nurse. It has learnedby experience, that the attempt to walk is dangerous; and it appliesthat knowledge by avoiding the danger. Here the child is wholly as yetin the hands of Nature; and it is quite evident, that her design infirst enabling the pupil to acquire those portions of knowledge, was, that she might induce him to apply them for his safety and comfort. Nodoubt the mental powers of the child were cultivated and disciplined bythe acquisition of the knowledge, and still more by its application; butthis disciplining of the mind, and accumulation of knowledge, wereevidently a secondary object, and not the primary one. Health andcheerfulness are gained by tilling the ground; yet the ground is nottilled for the purpose of securing health and cheerfulness. It is forthe produce of the harvest. So, in like manner, the cultivation of thechild's mind, and the reception of the seeds of knowledge, are merelymeans employed for a further end, --the harvest of comfort and usefulnessto be afterwards reaped. From all this we are directly led to theconclusion, that it is the intention of Nature, that all the knowledgeacquired should be put to use; and therefore, that nothing should betaught the young, in the first place at least, except that which isreally useful; while the proper use of all that they learn should bediligently pointed out. It may appear to some, that this truth is so plain and obvious, as torequire no further illustration or enforcement. --We sincerely wish thatit were so. But long experience justifies us in being sceptical on thepoint. And as the establishment of this principle, and a thoroughknowledge of its working, are perhaps of more value than any other truthin the whole range of educational science, we shall offer a few remarkson its validity and importance, before proceeding to examine the meansby which Nature carries it into operation. That knowledge, when once acquired, is intended by Nature to be put touse, is proved negatively by the well known fact, that almost all our_mental_ acquirements, when not used, are soon lost. They gradually fadefrom the mind, and are at last blotted from the memory. Hence thedisappearance in after life of all the academical and collegiateacquirements of those youths who move in a sphere where their use is notrequired; and of those portions of the early attainments of evenprofessional men, which are not necessary for their particular pursuits. By the universal operation of this principle, Nature gives fair warningof the folly of useless learning; and plainly indicates, that wheneverthe benefits which she confers are not put to use as she designed, theywill gradually, but most certainly, be withdrawn. The same fact is also proved positively:--For we find, that the properuse of any portion of our knowledge, is invariably rewarded by itsbecoming still more familiar. The student who puts a principle inchemistry to the test of experiment, will understand it better, rememberit longer, and be able to apply it to useful purposes, much more readilythan his companion who merely reflects upon it. And of two individuals, who by a lecture have been taught the duty and the delights of mercy, that one will learn it best, and remember it longest, who, immediatelyon hearing it, is prompted to relieve a fellow creature from distress, or to save a family from ruin. This principle of making every thing conduce to the promotion ofpractical good, seems to pervade all the works of God; and there is nodepartment in Nature, mineral, vegetable, or animal, that does notafford proofs of its existence. Every thing that the Almighty has formedis practically useful; and is arranged in such a manner as to give theclearest indications, that it was designed to be turned to some usefulpurpose by man. The annual and diurnal motions of the earth in itsorbit; the obliquity of its axis; the inequality of its surface, and thedisposition and disruption of its strata, all shew the most consummatewisdom, and are severally a call to intelligent man to turn them to use. On these, and on every other department of Nature's works, there iswritten in legible characters, that it is the _use_ of knowledge, andnot the _possession_ of it merely, that is recommended. This she teachesby every operation of her hand, both directly, and by analogy. For couldwe suppose that the vegetable creation were capable of receivingknowledge, we might conclude from various facts, that this principle wasnot confined to the animal kingdom alone, but that it regulated theoperations of all organic existences. The living vegetable has at leastthe appearance of acting under its influence; for, as if it knew thatlight was necessary for its health and growth, it invariably turnstowards the light;--as if it knew that certain kinds of decayed matterwere better fitted for its nourishment than others, it pushes out newfibrous roots in the direction of the spot where they are to befound;--and even when isolated on a rock, or a wall, at a distance fromsufficient soil and moisture, it husbands its scanty means, and sendsdown from its elevation an extra root to the ground, to collectadditional nourishment where it is to be had. In every department of animal life, also, the principle appears toexist, and exhibits itself in the conduct of all free agents, from theinsect to the elephant. The dog that has been kindly treated in aparticular house, seldom fails to visit it again; and when he isviolently driven from another, the same principle indisposes him toreturn. It is upon record, that a surgeon who had bandaged the brokenleg of a dog, was afterwards visited by his patient, who broughtanother, requiring a similar operation. The horse, in like manner, isproverbially sagacious in the application of his knowledge. Mismanagement in a groom in one instance, may create a "vice, " which maylessen his value during life. This "vice, " which is confirmed bypractice, is nothing more than the repeated application of hisknowledge. Such a "vice, " accordingly, is best cured by avoiding thecircumstances which originally gave rise to it, till it dies from hismemory. Many other instances of a similar kind in the lower animals willreadily occur to the reader, all of which lead directly to theconclusion, that, even in the brute creation, Nature not only promptsthem to collect information from what happens around them, and to act incorrespondence to its indications; but that, in fact, all the knowledgethey receive, or are capable of acquiring above instinct, is retained orlost, exactly in proportion as it is, or is not, put to use. In the case of rational creatures, this great design of Nature is stillmore distinctly marked, --is intended for more important purposes, --andis carried on by a separate system of internal machinery, part of whichat least is peculiar to man. This system of mental machinery consists oftwo kinds, one of which may, we think, with propriety get the popularname of the "Animal, or Common Sense, " and the other has alreadyreceived the appropriate name of "The Moral Sense, " or conscience. ToNature's method of using these principles, for prompting and directingus in the use of our knowledge, we shall now shortly advert. CHAP. IX. _On Nature's Methods of Applying Knowledge by the Principle of theAnimal, or Common Sense. _ When an infant, by laying hold of a hot tea-pot burns its hand, itrefuses to touch it again;--when a child has been frightened from a parkor field, he will not willingly enter it a second time;--and when anything is thrown in the direction of the head, we instantly stoop, orbend to one side, to evade it. These are instances of the application ofknowledge, by the principle of "common sense, " which do not belong toinstinct; and, in many cases at least, anticipate the exercise ofreason. Our object at present, however, is with the principle, and notwith its name. When we analyze these operations, together with their causes, we find, that there are certain portions of knowledge daily and hourly acquiredby the senses, which become so interwoven with our sentiments andfeelings, that they usually remain unobserved, till some specialoccasion calls for their application. Now the principle we speak of, ifit indeed be a separate principle, is employed by Nature to apply thislatent knowledge, and to induce her pupil instantly, and withoutwaiting for the decisions of reason, to perform certain actions, or topursue a certain line of conduct, which we almost instinctively feel tobe useful and safe. No sane child, for example, will deliberately standin the way of a horse or a carriage at full speed, --or walk over aprecipice, --or take burning coals from the fire with his fingers; werehe to do so, we would not dignify the act so far as to say that it was"unreasonable, " for that would be too mild an epithet, --but we wouldpronounce it at once to be "contrary to common sense. " In like manner, were an adult to bemire himself in crossing a ditch, instead of making use of the stepping-stones placed there for thepurpose; or if he were to stand till he were drenched with athunder-shower, instead of taking shelter for the time in theneighbouring shed, we would not say that it was "unreasonable, " but thatit was "contrary to common sense. " In short, whenever any thing is donewhich universal experience shews to be hurtful _to ourselves_, (not toothers) it is invariably denominated an act "contrary to common sense;"but whenever it involves hurt _to others_, it takes another character, and becomes a breach of the "moral sense. " It is not our design, however, to come out of our way at present, toadapt the name to the principle in Nature of which we are here speaking, and far less shall we attempt to mould the principle into a formsuitable to the name. Our business is with the principle itself, as itappears in ourselves and others; and we use the term "common sense, "merely because at present we cannot find one more appropriate, or whichwould suit our purpose so well. If this name shall be found proper forit, it is well;--but if not, we leave it to others to provide a better. We have said, that Nature prompts to the use of knowledge by means oftwo distinct principles; the one, which may be denominated the "Animal, "or "Common Sense, " refers to actions of which _we ourselves_ are thesubjects; and the other, known by the term of the "Moral Sense, " orconscience, refers to actions of which _others_ are the subjects. It isthe former of these that we are at present to investigate. We must all have observed the promptness with which we avoid any suddendanger, or inconvenience, before we have time to reason about thematter. As, for example, when we stumble, we instantly put forth theproper foot to prevent our fall. This cannot be said to be an act of thereasoning powers, because they have not had time to operate; and it isequally clear that it is not an act of instinct, because infants, whohave only begun to walk have not the capacity of doing it. It isevidently another principle which, availing itself of the knowledgewhich the person has previously acquired by experience, now uses itspecially for the occasion. That this application of our knowledge arises neither from instinct norfrom reason, will be obvious from many circumstances of ordinaryoccurrence. --For example, when any object approaches the eye weinstantly shut it;--when any missile is thrown at us, we instantly turnthe head aside to evade it;--or when in walking something destroys ourequilibrium and we stumble, we instantly bend the body in the properdirection, and to the precise point, necessary to restore our balance, and to prevent our fall. --Now it is obvious, that all thesecontingencies are provided for by one and the same principle, whateverthat principle may be; and that they are acts which do not depend uponinstinct, properly so called, is proved from the circumstance, thatinfants, before they are taught by experience that the eye is so tender, and even adults who have but newly acquired the use of their sight, neither shut their eyes at the approach of objects, nor turn away theirheads when a missile is thrown at them. --And we think it is equallyclear, that it cannot be the result of reasoning, in the sense in whichwe generally understand that term, because the mind has no time forconsideration, far less for reasoning, during the short moment thatoccurs between the cause and the effect. The object which we have chiefly in view at present is, to point out thegreat end designed by Nature in all these actions, which is simply _theapplication of knowledge_. There is the knowledge that objects enteringthe eye will give pain, and that the shutting of the eye will defend it. This we have shown is not an instinctive operation, but must have beenacquired by experience;--and it is this principle, into the nature ofwhich we are now enquiring, that prompted the child in the special caseto apply its knowledge by shutting the eye. In like manner, in the caseof the missile thrown at the head, there is a previous knowledge of theeffect which it will produce, and a knowledge also of the means by whichit is to be avoided, --and it is avoided;--and in the case of losing theequilibrium, there is nothing more than the application of a latentknowledge, now suddenly brought into use on the spur of the moment, thatby the movement of the foot the body will be supported. The principle, whatever it be, which instigates children and adults to do all this, isthe subject of our present enquiry, and which for the present we havedenominated the "Animal, " or "Common sense. " We shall therefore a littlemore particularly attend to its various indications. The operation of this principle in the infant has already been pointedout. When it has learned by experience that its nurse is kind, itstretches forth its little hands, and desires to be with thenurse;--when in its first attempt at walking it experiences a fall, itapplies this knowledge, by refusing again for some time to walk;--andwhen it burns its finger at the flame of the candle, the application ofthat knowledge induces it ever after to avoid both fire and flame. In after life the same principle continues to operate bothindependently of reason, and in conjunction with it. In encountering theair of a cold night, we, without reasoning on the matter, wrap ourselvescloser in our cloak. When we turn a corner, and meet a sharp frostywind, we lower the head to protect the uncovered face. When we emergefrom the house, and perceive that the dulness of the day indicates rain, we almost instinctively return for a cloak or an umbrella. And themariner at sunset, when he sees an opening in the sky indicating astorm, immediately takes in sail, and makes all snug for the night. Inall these cases we perceive a principle within us, frequently operatingalong with reason, but sometimes also without it, which prompts us toapply our previous knowledge for our present comfort and advantage. [7]The constant operation of such a principle in our nature, no matter bywhat name it is called, leads us, as plainly as analogy and naturalphenomena can do, to conclude, that it ought to be carefully studied, and assiduously cultivated in the young, during the period usuallyassigned for their education. When we carefully trace the operation of this principle in common life, it appears that, in fact, the greater portion of our physical comfortsdepends upon it. "Experience" is but another name for it. We find somesubstances warmer, softer, harder, or more workable than others, and weapply this knowledge by substituting one for another. The savage findsthe wigwam more convenient, or more easily come at, than a cave or acrevice in a rock, and he builds a wigwam;--he finds a hut more durablethan a wigwam, and he substitutes a hut;--he at last finds a cottagestill more convenient, and he advances in his desires and his abilitiesby his former experience, and he builds one. --In every advance, however, it is the application of his previous knowledge that increases hiscomforts, and tends to perpetuate them; and accordingly, as a properand a general application of the "moral sense, " leads directly tonational _virtue_; so the proper and general application of thisprinciple of "common sense" goes to promote every kind of personal andfamily _comfort_, as well as national _prosperity_. Its ramificationspierce through every design and action of industry and genius. It is theexercise of this principle alone which, in the worldly sense, distinguishes the wise man from the fool; and which gives all thesuperiority which is possessed by a civilized, over a savage community. It is the chief guardian of our safety, and the parent of every personaland domestic comfort. It is, in short, familiarity with its exercisethat imparts confidence to the philosopher, decision to the legislator, dexterity to the artificer, and perfection to the artist. In each caseit is the accumulation of knowledge _put to use_, which makes thedistinction between one man and another; and it is by the aggregation ofsuch men that a nation becomes prosperous. It must never therefore beforgotten, that it is not the possession of knowledge, but the use whichwe make of it, that confers distinction. For no truism is moreincontrovertible than this, that knowledge which we cannot or do notuse, is really useless. There is no wonder then that Nature should be at some pains in trainingher pupils to an exercise on which so much of their happiness and safetydepends; and it is of corresponding importance, that we shouldinvestigate the means, and the mode by which she usually accomplishesher end. If we can successfully attain this knowledge, we may be enabledto pursue a similar course in the training of the young, and withdecided advantage. When we take any one of the numerous examples of the working of thisprinciple in the adult, and carefully analyze it, we can detect threedistinct stages in the operation, before the effect is produced. The_first_ is the knowledge of some useful truth, present to the mind, andat the command of the will;--there is, _secondly_, an inference drawnfrom that truth, or portion of our knowledge, or the impression of aninference which was formerly drawn from it, and which, as we have seenin the infant, may remain long after the circumstance from which thelesson was derived has been forgotten;--and there is, _thirdly_, aspecial application of that inference or impression to our presentcircumstances. For example, in the case of the person leaving the house, and suddenly returning to provide himself with an umbrella, there isfirst the knowledge of a fact, that "the sky is lowering;" then there isan inference drawn from this fact, that "there will most probably berain;" but the comfort--the whole benefit arising from this knowledge, and from this reasoning upon it, --depends on the third stage of theoperation, which is therefore the most important of all, namely, theapplication of the inference, or lesson, to his present circumstances. Amere knowledge of the fact that the sky lowered, would have remained abarren and a useless truth in the mind, unless he had proceeded to drawthe proper inference from it; and the inference itself, after it wasdrawn, would have done him no good, but must rather have added to hisuneasiness, had he not proceeded to the third step of the operation, andapplied the whole to the regulation of his conduct, in providing himselfwith an umbrella or a cloak. In like manner, in the supposed case of the mariner expecting a storm, there was first the knowledge of the fact, that the "sky was in acertain state. " Now of this knowledge every person on board might havebeen in possession as well as the master himself, without the slightestbenefit accruing to themselves or the ship, unless they had beentrained, or enabled to draw the proper inference or lesson from it. Themere possession of the knowledge, therefore, would have been of noadvantage. But the practised eye, and the previous experience of themaster, enabled him to draw the inference, that "there will be astorm. " Even this, however, would not have saved the ship and crew, without the third, and the most important step of all, --the applicationof that inference or lesson to their present condition. It was thatwhich induced him to give the necessary orders to prepare for the storm, and thus to secure the safety both of the ship and of all on board. Again, in the case of the infant burning its finger, there appears to besomething like a similar process, which we can trace much better thanthe child itself. The child puts its finger to the flame of the candle, and it feels pain; from which it learns, for the first time, that flameburns. This is the knowledge which it has acquired. But there is also aninference drawn from that knowledge, not by reasoning, but by theoperation of the principle under consideration, an inference of which itis probable the child itself at the time is unconscious, but theexistence of which is sufficiently proved by its uniform conductafterwards. By the operation of this principle in the child's mind, before he can reason, he has inferred, that if he shall again touchflame, he will again feel pain. He will very probably forget theparticular circumstance in which his finger was burned, but theinference then drawn, --the impression made upon the mind, and whichcorresponds to an inference, --still remains, and is made the chiefinstrument which Nature employs in this most important part of all hervaluable educational processes. The child accordingly is found everafter, not only preserving the particular finger that was burned, butall its fingers and members, from a burning candle; and not from acandle only, but from fire and flame of every kind. This appears to be the natural order of that process of which we arehere speaking; and before leaving it, there are two or threecircumstances connected with it, that we ought not to omit noticing, more particularly, because the whole of them appear to hold outadditional evidence of the little value which Nature attaches toknowledge for its own sake, and of her decided approval of itsacquisition, only, or at least chiefly, when it is reduced to practice. The first of these circumstances is, that Nature, in all cases, teachespopularly--not philosophically; that is, she does not refuse to teachone part of a connected series of phenomena, because the whole is notyet perceived; nor does she neglect the use of the legitimateapplication of an ascertained truth, because the principle or law bywhich it acts remains as yet undiscovered. Her object evidently is, theattainment of the most _useful_ part of the knowledge presented to herpupil, and the _practical use_ of that part; leaving the investigationof the other parts to the will or convenience of the person afterwards. The infant accordingly made use of its knowledge, although it knewnothing about the nature of flame; and the man and the mariner wouldhave done as they did, although they had known nothing at all about thescience of meteorology. The second remark which we would here make is, that Nature, in mostcases, appears to put much more value on the inferences, or lessons, drawn from the knowledge we have acquired, than she does upon theknowledge itself. For example, in the case of the infant burning itsfinger, the circumstance itself will soon be forgotten; but theinference, or the impression acquired by its means, will remain. Andwhen at any subsequent period it avoids fire or flame, its mind is notso much occupied by the abstract truth that flame will burn, as by thelesson learned from that truth, that it should not meddle with it. Thisinference it now practically applies to its present situation. That theabstract truth, --the knowledge originally derived from the fact, --isincluded in the lesson, may be quite true; but what we wish at presentmore particularly to point out is, that _it is seldom adverted to by theinfant_. The inference, --the lesson which the truth suggested, --is allthat the child thought of. That alone is the fabric which Nature hasbeen employed in rearing; and the original truth has been used merely asscaffolding for the purpose. The edifice itself, accordingly, havingbeen completed, the scaffolding is allowed to fall, as having answeredits design. The same conclusion may be come to, by attending to the circumstancesconnected with the operation of the principle in adults. --The person whoreturned for his great-coat or umbrella after having drawn the inferencefrom the appearance of the sky, thought only of the coming shower; andwe could easily suppose a case, where the original indication of the skymight be totally forgotten, while the full impression that it would rainmight still continue. In like manner, the mariner, in the bustle ofpreparation, thinks only of the dreaded storm, while the originalcircumstance, --the knowledge from which the inference was drawn, --is nowunheeded, or entirely forgotten. The other circumstance to which we would here solicit attention, asproving the same thing, is one to which we formerly alluded. It is theremarkable fact, that knowledge, of whatever kind, when it is practised, becomes more and more familiar and useful; while that which is not actedupon, is soon blotted from the memory and lost. Writing, arithmetic, andspelling, not to speak of grammar, geography, and history, when notexercised in after life, are frequently found of no avail, even at timeswhen they are specially required. --Why is this? They were once known. The knowledge was communicated at a time when the mind and memory werebest fitted for receiving and retaining them. But Nature in this, as inevery other instance, has been true to herself; and the knowledge whichis not used has been blighted, and at last removed from the memory andlost. From all these circumstances taken together, we are led to conclude, that Nature never conveys knowledge without intending it to beused;--that by a principle in our constitution, which we havedenominated "common sense, " Nature prompts even infants to employ theirknowledge for their own special benefit;--that this principle continuesinvariably to act, till it is assisted or superseded by reason;--andthat the process consists in drawing inferences, or lessons, from knownfacts, and in practically applying them to present circumstances. Allwhich points the Educationist directly to the conclusion, that thecommunication of knowledge is one of the _means_, but not the _end_, ofeducation;--that the lessons derived from the knowledge communicated, are infinitely more valuable than the knowledge itself;--and that thegreat design of education is, and ought to be, to train the young toknow how to use, and to put to use, not only the knowledge communicatedat school, but all the knowledge which they may acquire in their futurejourney through life. FOOTNOTES: [7] Note F. CHAP. X. _On Nature's Method of applying Knowledge by means of the Moral Sense, or Conscience. _ Nature enables her pupils to apply knowledge by means of the moralsense, or conscience, as well as by the animal, or common sense. Thereis however this great difference in the manner in which theyoperate, --that whereas every infringement of the natural or physicallaws which regulate the application of knowledge by what we have calledthe common sense, is invariably followed by its proper punishment, --theconsequences of infringing the laws which regulate the moral sense, areneither so immediate, nor at the time so apparent. The child knows, thatby putting his finger to the candle, burning and pain will instantlyfollow;--but the evil consequences of purloining sweet-meats, or tellinga lie to avoid punishment, are not so obvious. Does Nature then put lessvalue on moral integrity, than on worldly prudence? Certainly not. Butin the latter case she deals with man more as a physical andintellectual being; and in the former, as a moral, a responsible, and animmortal being. The lower animals to a great extent participate with usin the benefits arising from attention to the laws which govern physicalenjoyments; but they know nothing of a moral sense, which is peculiar tointelligent and accountable creatures. From this we may safely conclude, that the application of knowledge by means of the moral sense, orconscience, is of infinitely more importance to man than the applicationof his knowledge by the animal, or common sense. For the purpose of arriving at accurate conclusions on this subject, inreference to education and the application of knowledge, we shallendeavour to investigate a few of the phenomena connected with the moralsense, as these are exhibited in the young and in adults; and shall, indoing so, attempt to trace the laws by which these phenomena areseverally guided. 1. The first thing we would here remark, is, that the operations of themoral sense appear to be resolvable into two classes, which may betermed its _legislative_ and its _executive_ powers. When conscienceleads us merely to judge and to decide upon the character of a feelingor an action, whether good or evil, it acts in its _legislative_capacity; but when it reproves and punishes, or approves and rewards, for actions done, it acts in its _executive_ capacity. These twodepartments of the moral sense seem quite distinct in their nature andoperations; and, as we shall immediately see, they not only existseparately, but they sometimes act independently of each other. 2. Another circumstance connected with conscience is, that her_legislative_ powers do not develope themselves, nor appear to act, tillthe reasoning powers of the person begin to expand. Then, and then onlydoes the pupil of Nature, who has not had the benefit of previous moralinstruction, begin to decide on the merit or demerit of actions. Infants, and children who are left without instruction, appear to haveno distinct perception that certain actions are right, and others wrong. In infancy, we frequently perceive the most rebellious outbreakings ofungoverned passion, with tearing, and scratching, and beating theparent, without any indication of compunction, either at the time, orafter it has taken place. Even in children of more advanced years, whilethey remain without moral instruction, and before the reasoning powersare developed, the injuries which they occasion to each other, or whichthey inflict upon the old, the decrepit, or the helpless, are matters ofunmingled glee and gratification, without the slightest sign ofconscience interfering to prevent them, or of giving them any uneasinessafter the mischief is done. Instead of sorrow, such children are foundinvariably delighted with the recollection of their tricks; and neverfail to recapitulate them to their companions afterwards, with triumphand satisfaction. --But it is not so with the adult. As soon as thereasoning powers are developed, the legislative functions of consciencebegin to act, enabling and impelling the person to decide at once onactions, whether they are right or wrong, good or evil. Such a person, therefore, could not strike nor abuse his parents, without knowing thathe was doing wrong; nor could he tantalize or injure the aged or thehelpless, without conscience putting him upon his guard, as well asreproving and punishing the crime by compunctious feelings after it wascommitted. From this we perceive, that the legislative powers of conscience areusually dormant in the child, and do not, when left to Nature, act tillthe reasoning powers have exhibited themselves; from which we are led toconclude, that it is by an _early education_, --by _moral instruction_alone, --that the young are to be guarded against crime, and prepared andfurnished to good works. 3. This leads us to observe another remarkable circumstance, corroborative also of the above remark, which is, that although thelegislative powers of conscience are but very imperfectly, if at alldeveloped in children, yet the _executive_ powers are never absent, where moral instruction has previously been communicated. --A child ofvery tender years, and even an infant, may be taught, that certainactions are good and should be performed, while others are evil and mustbe avoided. This is matter of daily experience; and a little attentionto the subject will shew, that moral instruction in the case of theyoung, acts the same part that the legislative powers of conscience doin the adult. But what we wish at present more particularly to remarkis, that whenever such moral instruction has been communicated, Natureat once sanctions it, and is ever ready to use the executive powers ofthe conscience for the purpose of rendering it effective. When thereforegood actions have been pointed out as praiseworthy and deserving ofapprobation, there is a strong inducement to practise them, and adelightful feeling of satisfaction and self-approval after they havebeen performed. And when, on the contrary, certain other actions havebeen denounced as wicked, and which, if indulged in, will be punishedeither by their parents or by God, the child feels all the hesitationand fear to commit them, that is observable in similar cases among olderpersons; and, when committed he experiences the same remorse, andterror, and self-reproach, which in the adult follow the perpetration ofan aggravated crime. This is a circumstance which must be obvious toevery reader; and it distinctly intimates, that the God of Natureintends that the legislative powers of conscience should in all casesbe _anticipated_ by the parent and teacher. The moral instruction or theyoung is to be the rule; the neglect of it, although in some measureprovided for, is to be the exception. The lesson is as plain as analogycan teach us, that, while there is written on the heart of man such anoutline of the moral law as will leave him without excuse when called tojudgment, yet it is not the design of the Creator that, in a matter ofsuch vast importance as the moral perfection of a rational creature, weshould trust to that, and, like savages, leave our children to gatherinformation respecting moral good and evil solely from the slowlydeveloped and imperfect dictates of their own nature. The wholephenomena of the natural conscience shew, that although God secures theoperation of the legislative powers of conscience to direct the actionsof the man when they are really required, yet he intends that theyshould be anticipated by moral instruction given by the parent. And thisis proved by the remarkable fact, that when this instruction iscommunicated, the executive powers of conscience immediately come intooperation, and homologate this instruction, by approving of it, adoptingit, and acting upon it. 4. This is still farther obvious from a fourth consideration, which is, that wherever moral instruction has been communicated to the young, thelegislative powers of conscience are either altogether superseded, orleft dormant. --Every person who in youth has received a regular moraland religious education, and who retains upon his mind the knowledgethen communicated, is found through life to act upon _that_ knowledgechiefly, if not entirely. He seldom thinks of the dictates of hisnatural conscience, and but rarely perceives them. In every decision towhich he comes as to what is right or wrong, reference is generally madein his mind, either to the declarations of Scripture, or to the moralinstructions which he has formerly received; and upon these heinvariably falls back, when any action of a doubtful character ispresented for his approval or rejection. From this very remarkablecircumstance, we at once ascertain what are the intentions of Nature. She very plainly requires the early moral instruction of the young, bythose into whose hands she has placed them; because she is here found toencourage and acknowledge this instruction at the expense of her ownlegislative powers, which not being now required, are allowed to lieidle. 5. Another circumstance connected with this subject, is the well knownfact, that children are found capable of moral instruction long beforethe time that Nature usually begins to develope the legislative powersof the conscience. --A child, almost as soon as he can be made to knowthat he has an earthly father, may be taught that he has another Fatherin heaven; and when he can be induced to feel that a certain line ofconduct is necessary to secure the favour of the one, he may also be ledto comprehend that certain dispositions and actions will please theother. Now, that a child can be taught and trained to do all this withrespect to his parents, is matter of daily experience. As soon as he canunderstand any thing, and long before he can speak, he may be enabled todistinguish between right and wrong, as well as to do that which isgood, and to avoid that which is evil; and in every case of this kind, Nature sanctions the moral instruction communicated, by invariablyfollowing it up with the practical operation of the executive powers ofconscience, which always approve that which the child thinks is good, and reprove that which he supposes to be wrong. The triumphant gleam ofsatisfaction which brightens the countenance of a child, and thelaughing look and pause for approval when he has done something that heknows to be right, are abundant proofs of the truth of this observation;while his cowering scowl, and fear of reproof or punishment, when hehas done that which is wrong, are equal indications of the same thing. Nature, therefore, that has given the capacity of distinguishing betweengood and evil when thus communicated, and that invariably approves ofthe operation, and assists in it, has most certainly intended that itshould be exercised. This consideration, taken in connection with itsadvantages to the family, to the child, to the future man, and tosociety, plainly points out the value and the importance of earlyreligious instruction and moral training. 6. Another circumstance, in connection with the application of knowledgeby means of the conscience, should not be overlooked. It is theremarkable fact, that Nature has implanted in the mind of the young aprinciple, by which they unhesitatingly believe whatever they aretold. --A child who has not been abused by frequent deceptions, is aperfect picture of docility. He never for a moment doubts either hisparent or his teacher when he tells him what is right and what is wrong. If he be taught that it is a sin to eat flesh on Fridays, he neverquestions the truth of it; and if told that he may kill spiders, butshould not hurl flies, he may wonder at the difference, but he neverdoubts the correctness of the statement. This disposition in children isapplicable to every kind of instruction offered to them;--but thesuperior importance of moral, to every other kind of truth, and thebeneficial effects of the principle when applied to moral and religioustraining, shew that it is chiefly designed by Nature for aiding theparent and teacher in this most important part of their labours. 7. Another circumstance connected with this subject is, that theexecutive powers of conscience always act according to the belief of theperson, and not according to what would have been the dictates ofconscience in the exercise of her legislative functions. --This of itselfis a sufficient proof of the separate and independent agency of thesetwo principles. The legislative powers, as at first implanted in theheart of man, there is reason to believe, would, if allowed to actfreely, never have been in error; and even still, they are generally awitness for the purity of truth;--but the executive powers invariablyact, not according to what is really the truth, but according to whatthe person himself believes to be right or wrong. The child who was toldthat it was a sin to eat flesh on a Friday, would be reproved by hisconscience were he to indulge his appetite by doing so;--and theconscience of the zealous Musselman, which would smite him for indulgingin a sip of wine, would commend and reward him by its approval, forindulging in cruelty and injustice to the unbeliever in his faith. Theexecutive functions of conscience then act independently of thelegislative, and frequently in opposition to them. There must be afeeling of wrong, before the executive powers will reprove; and theremust be a sense of merit, before they will commend;--but a mistake ineither case makes no apparent difference. This is another, and apowerful argument for the early moral instruction of the young; and itshews us also, the greater value which Nature puts upon the_application_ and _use_ of knowledge, than upon its possession. She notonly encourages this application in all ordinary cases; but here we findher, for the purpose of maintaining the general principle, lending herassistance in the application and use of the knowledge received, evenwhen the knowledge itself is erroneous, and the application mischievous. 8. Another important circumstance which is worthy of especial notice, is, that conscience is much more readily acted upon by _examples_, thanby _precepts_. --In communicating a knowledge of duty, this principle inNature has become proverbial; but it is not less true with respect tothe executive powers, in approving or reproving that which is right orwrong. It is the prerogative of conscience to excite us to approve orcondemn the conduct of others, as well as our own; and this isregulated, not by strict truth, but by our belief at the time, whetherthat belief be correct or the contrary. Now the precept, "Thou shalt notkill, " would be sufficient to make the executive powers of consciencewatchful, in deterring the individual from the crime, or in reprovingand punishing him if he committed it. But the mere precept would havebut little effect in exhibiting to him the full atrocity of the sin, incomparison with an anecdote or a story which detailed its commission. But even this would not be so powerful as the effect produced by amurder committed in a neighbouring street, and still more were itperpetrated in his own presence. The necessary inference to be drawnfrom this remarkable fact is, that moral truth is much more effectivelytaught by example than by precept; and accordingly we find, that atleast four-fifths of scripture, which is altogether a moral instrument, consist of narrative, and are given specially, "that the man of God maybe perfect, thoroughly furnished to every good work. " 9. Another circumstance worthy of observation is, that the executivepowers of conscience appear to be exceedingly partial when exercisedupon actions done by _ourselves_, in comparison of its decisions uponthe same actions when they are committed by _others_. --When we ourselvesperform a good action, the approval of our conscience is more lively andmore extensive, than it would have been had the good action been that ofanother. On the contrary, it would be more ready to perform itsfunctions, and more powerful in impressing upon our minds the demerit orwickedness of an action committed by another, than if we ourselves hadcommitted it. The reason of this is obviously self-love, which partlyoverbears the natural operations of this principle. Violence of passionand strong desire, when we are tempted to commit a crime, are hostilemovements against the dictates of conscience; and they too frequently, by their excess, stifle and drown the still small voice which doesspeak out, but which, for the moment, is not heard within us. --Butnothing of this kind takes place when the crime is committed by others. We are then much more impartial; and conscience is permitted to utterher voice, and to make her impressions without opposition. Thisimpartial decision on the conduct of others, is found to be a greatmeans of preventing us from the future commission of a similar crime;and this affords us another powerful argument in favour of earlyinstruction and moral training. By attending early to this duty, themind of the child is made up, and sentence has been pronounced oncertain acts, before selfishness or the passions have had an opportunityof blinding the mind, or silencing the conscience. By proper moraltraining the pupil is fortified and prepared for combating his evilinclinations when temptations occur; but without this, he will have toencounter sudden temptations at a great disadvantage. 10. Another circumstance connected with this subject is, that the moralsentiments and feelings above all others, are improved and strengthenedby exercise; and are weakened, and often destroyed by disregard oropposition. --Every instance of moral exercise or moral discipline, invigorates the executive powers of conscience, and renders the moralperceptions of the person more acute and tender. Every successfulstruggle against a temptation, implants in the mind of a child a nobleconsciousness of dignity, and confers a large amount of moral strength, and a firmer determination to resist others. In this respect, the goodderived from the mere knowledge of a duty and its actual performance isimmense. A child who is merely told that a certain action ispraiseworthy, is by no means so sensible of the fact, or of its value, as he is after he has actually performed it; and when, on the contrary, he is told that a certain action is wrong, he is no doubt prepared toavoid it; but it is not till he has been tempted to its commission, andhas successfully overcome the temptation, that he is fully aware of itsenormity. When he has successfully resisted the first temptation, he ismuch better prepared than any exhortation or warning could make him forresisting and repelling a second;--while every successive victory willgive strength to the executive powers of the conscience, and will renderfuture conflicts less hazardous, and resistance more easy. For the samereason, an amiable action frequently performed does not pall byrepetition, but appears more and more amiable, till the doing of itgrows into a habit; and the approval of conscience becoming every daymore satisfactory, the person will be stimulated to its frequent andregular observance. But the opposite of this is equally true. --The continued habit ofsuppressing the voice of conscience will greatly weaken, and will atlast destroy its executive powers. When a person knows that a certainaction is wrong, and is tempted to commit it, --conscience will speakout, and for the first time at least it will be listened to. But if thiswarning be neglected, and the sin be committed, the conscience will beproportionally weakened, and the self-will of the individual willacquire additional strength. When the temptation again presents itself, it is with redoubled power, and it meets with less resistance. It willinvariably be found in such cases, that the person felt much moredifficulty in resisting the admonitions of conscience in the case of thefirst temptation, than in that of the second; and he will also feel moreduring the second than he will during the third. Frequent resistanceoffered to the executive powers of conscience will at last lay themasleep. The beginning of this downward career is always the mostdifficult; but when once fairly begun, it grows every day more easy, till the habit of sin becomes like a second nature. 11. There is yet another feature in the exhibition of the moral sense inadults, which ought not to be overlooked by the Educationist in histreatment of the young. We here allude to the remarkable fact, that theconscience scarcely ever refers to consequences connected merely withthis world and time, but compels the man, in spite of himself, to fear, that his actions will, in some way or other, have an influence upon hishappiness or his misery in another world, and through eternity. --Themere uneasiness arising from the fear of detection and punishment bymen, is a perfectly different kind of feeling, and never is, and neverought to be, dignified with the name of conscience. It is theconsequence of a mere animal calculation of chances;--similar to thefeelings which give rise to the cautious prowling of the hungry lion, orthe stealthy advances of the timorous fox. But the forebodings, as wellas the gnawings of conscience, extend much farther, and strike muchdeeper, than these superficial and animal sensations. Conscience in man, as long as it is permitted to act freely, has always a reference to God, to a future judgment, and to eternity, and is but rarely affected byworldly considerations. The valuable lesson to be drawn from thiscircumstance obviously is, that the parent and teacher ought, in theirmoral training of the young, to make use of the same principle. Theanticipated approbation or displeasure of their earthly parents orteachers, or even the fear of the rod and correction, is not enough. Children are capable of being restrained by much higher motives, andstimulated to duty by nobler and more generous feelings. The greatness, the holiness, the unwearied goodness, and the omnipresence of theirheavenly Father, present to the rational and tender affections of theyoung, a constantly increasing stimulus to obedience andself-controul;--while the fear of mere physical suffering will be founddaily to decrease, and may perhaps in some powerful minds at lastaltogether disappear. The horse and the dog were intended to be trainedin the one way;--but rational and intelligent minds were obviouslyintended to be trained in the other. Of these facts, connected as they are with the application of knowledgeby means of the moral sense, the Educationist must make use for theperfecting of his science. They are the most valuable, and thereforethey ought to form the most important branch of his investigations. Allthe other parts of Nature's teaching were but means;--this is obviouslythe great end she designed by using them, and therefore it ought to behis also. In regard to the practical working of this important part of Nature'seducational process, we need only remark here, that the application ofthe pupil's knowledge connected with the moral sense, is precisely thesame in form, as in that connected with the common sense. There isalways here first, as in the former case, some fundamental truth, generally derived from Scripture, or founded on some moral maxim, andpresented in the form of a precept, a promise, a threatening, or anexample;--there is next a lesson or inference drawn from thistruth;--and there is, lastly, a practical application of that lesson orinference to present circumstances. For the purpose of illustrating this, let us suppose that a boy who hasbeen trained in imitation of Nature, is tempted by some ungodlyacquaintances to join with them in absenting himself from publicworship, and in breaking the Sabbath. The moment that such a temptationis suggested to him, a feeling arises in his mind, which will takesomething like the following form:--"I ought not to absent myself frompublic worship;"--"I ought not to break the Sabbath;"--"I ought not tokeep bad company. " Here are three distinct lessons suited to theoccasion, obviously derived from his previous knowledge, and which hehas been trained either directly or indirectly to draw from "the onlyrule of duty, " the Bible. When, accordingly, the temptation is fartherpressed upon him, and the reasons of his refusal are regularly put intoform, they appear in something like the following shape and order:--"Imust not absent myself from public worship; for thus it is written, 'Forget not the assembling of yourselves together;' and, 'Jesus, _as hiscustom was_, went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day. '"--"I must notprofane this holy day; for thus it is written, 'Remember the Sabbath dayto keep it holy, '"--And, "I must not go with these boys; for thus it iswritten, 'Go not in the way of the ungodly;' and 'Evil communicationscorrupt good manners. '" Whoever will investigate the subject closely, will find, that the aboveis a pretty correct picture of the mental process, wherever temptationis opposed and overcome by means of religious principle;--but it is alsoworthy of remark, that the form is still nearly the same by whomsoever atemptation is resisted, and whether they do or do not take theScriptures for their text-book and directory. The only difference insuch a case is, that their lessons have been drawn from some _other_source. For example, another boy exposed to the above temptation mightsuccessfully resist it upon the following grounds. He might say, "I mustnot absent myself from public worship; because I shall then lose thepromised reward for taking home the text;"--"I dare not profane theSabbath; because, if I did, my father would punish me;"--"I will not gowith these boys; because I would be ashamed to be seen in theircompany. " In this latter example, we have the same lessons, and the sameapplication, although these lessons have been derived from a morequestionable, and a much more variable source. In both cases, however, it is the same operation of Nature, and which we ought always to imitatetherefore upon scriptural and solid grounds. These examples might be multiplied in various forms, and yet they wouldin every case be found substantially alike. The application ofknowledge, whether by the common or the moral sense, is carried forwardonly in one way, in which the truth, the lesson, and the application, follow each other in natural order, whether they be perceived or not. Tothis process, therefore, every branch and portion of our knowledge oughtto be adapted, as it is obviously the great end designed by Nature inall her previous endeavours. The parent, therefore, or the teacher, whowilfully passes over, or but slightly attends to these plainindications, is really betraying his trust, and deeply injuring thefuture prospects of his immortal charge. The several circumstances enumerated in the previous part of thischapter, as connected with the moral sense, are capable of suggestingmany important hints for the establishment of education; but there areone or two connected with the subject as a whole, to which we must veryshortly allude. In the first place, from the foregoing facts we are powerfully led tothe conclusion, that all kinds of physical good, such as health, strength, beauty, riches, and honours, and even the higher attainmentsof intellectual sagacity and knowledge, are, in the estimation ofNature, not once to be compared with the very lowest of the moralacquirements. With respect to the former, man shares them, though in ahigher degree, with the brute creation;--but _morals_ are altogetherpeculiar to higher intelligences. To man, in particular, the value ofmoral discipline is beyond calculation:--For, however much the presentignorance and grossness of men's minds may deceive them in weighingtheir respective worth, yet it would be easy to shew, that the knowledgeand practice of but one additional truth in morals, are of more realvalue to a child, than a whole lifetime of physical enjoyment. Naturehas accordingly implanted in his constitution, a complete system ofmoral machinery, to assist the parent in this first and most importantpart of his duty, --that of guiding his children in the paths ofreligion and virtue. The executive powers of conscience are always aliveand active, stimulating or restraining both young and old, wherever theaction proposed partakes of the character of right or wrong. And, evenwhere the parental duties in this respect have been neglected, Naturehas, in part, graciously provided a remedy. In all such cases, duringthe years of advancing manhood, the law is gradually and vividly writtenupon the heart. Its dictates are generally, no doubt, dimmed and defacedby the natural depravity and recklessness of the sinner; but even then, they are sufficiently legible to leave him without excuse for hisneglect of their demands. The preference which Nature gives to moral acquirements, is demonstratedalso by another feature in her different modes of applying knowledge bythe common and the moral senses. In the attainment of physical good, Nature leaves men, as she does the lower animals, in a great measure tothemselves, under the guardianship of the common sense; but, in respectto actions that are morally good or evil, she deals with them in a muchmore solemn and dignified manner. A transgression of the laws of thenatural or common sense, is, without discrimination and without mercy, visited with present and corresponding punishment; plainly indicating, that with respect to these there is to be no future reckoning;--whilethe trial and final judgment of moral acts are usually reserved for afuture, a more solemn, and a more comprehensive investigation. Another inference which legitimately arises out of the aboveconsiderations, as well as from the facts themselves, is, that religionand morals are really intended to be the chief object of attention inthe education of the young. This is a circumstance so clearly and sofrequently pointed out to us, in our observation of Nature's educationalprocesses, that no person, we think, of a philosophic turn of mind, canconsistently refuse his assent to it. The facts are so numerous, andthe legitimate inferences to be drawn from them are so plain, thatpre-conceived opinions should never induce us either to blink them fromfear, or deny them from prejudice. These facts and inferences too, itshould be observed, present themselves to our notice in all their ownnative power and simplicity, invulnerable in their own strength, and, inone sense, altogether independent of revelation. They are, no doubt, efficiently supported in every page of the Christian Record; but, without revelation, they force themselves upon our conviction, andcannot be consistently refuted. We state this fearlessly, from aconsideration of numerous facts, to a few of which, selected from amongmany, we shall, before concluding, very shortly advert. In the first place, it is obvious to the most cursory observer, thatmoral attainments and moral greatness are more honoured by Nature, andare, of course, more valuable to man, than the possession of eitherintellectual or physical good. --Nature has, to the possessor, madevirtue its own reward, in that calm consciousness of dignity, self-approval, and peace, which are its natural results; while, evenfrom the mere looker-on, she compels an approval. On the contrary, wefind, that the highest intellectual or physical attainments, whencoupled with vice, lead directly and invariably to corresponding depthsof degradation and misery. No one, we think, can deny this as a generalprinciple; and if it be admitted, the question is settled; for no personacting rationally would seek the _lesser_ good for his child, at theexpense of the _greater_. Another proof of the same fact is, that Nature has provided for thephysical and intellectual education of the young, by means of the animalor "common sense;" while morals are, in a great measure, left to theeducation of the parents. The principle of common sense, as we haveseen, begins its operations and discipline in early infancy, andcontinues to act through life; but the culture of the moral sense, --byfar the most important of the two, --is left during infancy and childhoodvery much to the affections of the natural guardians of the child, andto the results of their education. Hence it is, that while Nature amplyprovides for the _neglect_ of this duty, by the developement of thelegislative powers of conscience towards manhood, they are comparativelyfeeble, and in ordinary cases are but little thought of or observed, wherever this duty has timeously been attended to. From all thesecircumstances we infer, that it is the intention of Nature, that theestablishment and culture of religion and morals should in every caseform the chief objects of education, --the main business of the familyand the school;--an intention which she has pointed out and guarded byvaluable rewards on the one hand, and severe penalties on the other. When the duty is faithfully attended to, Nature lends her powerfulassistance, by the early developement of the executive powers ofconscience, and the virtue of the pupil is the appropriate reward toboth parties; but, when this is omitted, the growing depravity of thechild becomes at once the reproof and the punishment of the parents, forthis wilful violation of Nature's designs. In conclusion, it may be necessary to remark, that from these lattercircumstances, another and a directly opposite inference may be drawn, which we must not allow to pass without observation. --It may be said, that the very postponement of the legislative powers of conscience tillthe years of manhood, shews, that religion and morals are not designedto be taught till that period arrive. Now, to this there are twoanswers. --_First_, if it were correct, it would set aside, and renderuseless almost all the other indications of Nature on this subject. Inaccordance with the view taken of the circumstances as above, theseindications are perfectly harmonious and effective; but, in the view ofthe case which this argument supposes, they are all inconsistent anduseless. --But, _secondly_, if this argument proves any thing, it provestoo much, and would infer the absurd proposition, that physical andintellectual qualities are superior in value to moral attainments;--aproposition that is contradicted, as we have shewn, by every operationand circumstance in Nature and providence. It is in direct oppositionalso to all the unsophisticated feelings of human Nature. No thinkingperson will venture to affirm, that the beauty of the courtezan, thestrength of the robber, or the intelligence and sagacity of theswindler, are more to be honoured than the generous qualities of aWilberforce or a Howard. And therefore it is, that from a calm anddispassionate consideration of these facts, and independently altogetherof revelation, we cannot see how any impartial philosophic mind canevade the conclusion, that the chief object to be attended to in theeducation of the young, and to which every thing else should be strictlysubservient, is _their regular and early training in religion andmorals_. CHAP. XI. _On Nature's Method of Training her Pupils to Communicate theirKnowledge. _ There is yet a _Fourth_ process in the educational system of Nature, which may be termed supplementary, as it is not intended solely, noreven chiefly, for the good of the pupil himself, but for thecommunity. --This process of Nature consists in the training of her pupilto communicate, by language, not only his own wishes and wants, butalso, and perhaps chiefly, the knowledge and experience which he himselfhas attained. The three previous processes of Nature were in a greatmeasure selfish, --referring to the pupil as an individual, and are ofuse although he should be alone, and isolated from all others of hisspecies; but this is characteristically social, and to the monk and thehermit is altogether useless. That this ability to communicate our sentiments is intended by Nature, not for the sole benefit of the individual, but chiefly as an instrumentof doing good to others, appears obvious from various circumstances. Itsimportance in education, and in the training of the young, would ofitself, we think, be a sufficient proof of this; but it is renderedunquestionable by the invariable decision of every unbiassed mind, injudging of a person who is constantly speaking of and for himself; andof another whose sole object in conversation, is to exalt and promotethe happiness of those around him. The one person, however meritoriousotherwise, is pitied or laughed at;--the other is admired and applaudedin spite of ourselves. The benevolence of this arrangement in the educational process of Natureis worthy of especial notice, as it leads us directly to the conclusion, that learning, of whatever kind, is not intended to be a monkish andpersonal thing, but is really designed by Nature for the benefit of thecommunity at large. Those connected with education, therefore, are heretaught, that the training of the young should be so conducted, thatwhile the attainments of the pupil shall in every instance benefithimself, they shall at the same time be of such a kind, and shall becommunicated in such a way, as shall advantage the persons with whom heis to mingle, and the community of which he is to form a part. Unlessthis lesson, taught us by Nature, be attended to, her plan is obviouslyleft incomplete. In entering upon the consideration of this part of our subject, wecannot but remark the value and the importance which Nature has attachedto the higher acquisitions of this anti-selfish portion of her teaching. Language is perverted and abused, when it is generally and chieflyemployed for the benefit of the individual himself; and the decision ofevery candid and well-disposed mind confirms the truth of thisassertion. When, on the contrary, it is employed for the benefit ofothers, or for the good of the public in general, it commands attention, and compels approval. Eloquence, therefore, is obviously intended byNature for the benefit of communities; and accordingly, she has sodisposed matters in the constitution of men's minds, and of society, that communities shall in every instance do it homage. In proof of this, we find, in every age and nation, wherever Nature is not totally debasedby art or crime, that the most powerful orator, has almost always beenfound to be the most influential man. Every other qualification insociety has been made to bend to this, and even reason itself is oftenfor the moment obscured, by means of its fascinations. Learning andintellect, riches, popularity, and power, have frequently been made toquail before it; and even virtue itself has for a time been deprived ofits influence, when assailed by eloquence. Nay, even in more artificialcommunities, where Nature has been constrained and moulded anew to suitthe tastes and caprices of selfish men, eloquence has still maintainedits reputation, and has generally guided the possessor to honour and topower. Amongst the lower and unsophisticated classes of society itsinfluence is almost universal; and in most polished communities, it isstill acknowledged as a high attainment, and one of the best indicationsthat has yet been afforded of superior mental culture. That this is not an erroneous estimate of the mental powers of afinished debater, will be evident from a slight analysis of what he hasto achieve in the exercise of his art. He has, while his adversary isspeaking, to receive and retain upon his mind, the whole of hisargument, --separate its weak and strong points, --and call forth andarrange those views and illustrations which are calculated to overthrowand demolish it. This itself, even when performed in silence, is aprodigious effort of mental strength; but when he commences to speak, and to manage these, with other equally important operations of his ownmind at the same moment, the difficulty of succeeding is greatlyincreased. When he begins to pour forth his refutation in anuninterrupted flow of luminous eloquence;--meeting, combating, andsetting aside his opponent's statements and reasonings;--carefullymarking, as he goes along, the effect produced upon his hearers, andadapting his arguments to the varying emotions and circumstances of theaudience;--withholding, transposing, or abridging the materials he hadpreviously prepared, or seizing new illustrations suggested by passingincidents;--and all this not only without hesitation, and withoutconfusion, but with the most perfect composure and self-controul;--sucha man gives evidence of an energy, a grasp, a quickness of thought, which, as an exhibition of godlike power in a creature, has scarcely aparallel in the whole range of Nature's efforts. All kinds and degreesof physical glory, in comparison with this, sink into insignificance. It is but rare indeed that any country or age produces a Demosthenes, aPitt, a Thomson, or a Brougham; and such persons have hitherto beenconsidered as gifts of Nature, rather than the legitimate production ofeducational exercises. But this we conceive to be a mistake. They mayperhaps have been self-taught, and self-exercised, as Demosthenesconfessedly was; but that teaching, and especially mental and oralexercise, are necessary for the production of one of Nature's chiefornaments, both analogy and experience abundantly shew. [8] Fluency inthe use of words is not enough, --copiousness of thought, such as may beof use in the study, is not enough;--for Nature's work, of which we areat present speaking, consists chiefly in the faculty of forming onetrain of thoughts in the mind, at the same time that the individual isgiving expression to another. Every child, accordingly, who holdsconversation with his companion, is practising on a limited scale thevery exercise which, if carried out by regular gradations, wouldultimately lead to that excellence which we have above described. Inevery case of free unconstrained conversation, the operation of thisprinciple of Nature is apparent; for the idea is present to the mindsome time before the tongue gives it utterance, and the person ispreparing a second idea, at the moment he is communicating the first. Upon this simple principle the whole art of eloquence, when analyzed, appears to depend. We shall therefore endeavour to trace its operation, and the methods which Nature adopts for the purpose of perfecting it. That this ability is altogether acquired, and depends wholly uponexercise for its cultivation, is obvious in every stage of its progress, but especially towards its commencement. When Nature first begins tosuggest to an infant the use of language, we perceive that it cannotthink and speak at the same moment. Long after it has acquired theknowledge of words and names, and even the power of articulating them, it utters but one syllable, or one word at a time. Its language, for awhile after it has acquired a pretty extensive acquaintance with nounsand adjectives, is made up of single, or at most double words, with anobservable pause between each, as if, after uttering one, it had tocollect its thoughts and again prepare for a new effort, before it wasable to pronounce the next. This is the child's first step, or ratherthe child's first attempt, in this important exercise; and it isconspicuous chiefly by the want, even in the least degree, of that powerof which we have spoken. By and bye, however, the child is able to puttwo syllables, or two words together, without the pause;--but not three. That is a work of time, and that again has to become familiar, beforefour, or more words be attempted. These, however, are at last mastered;and he slowly acquires by practice the ability to utter a shortsentence, composed chiefly of nouns, adjectives, and verbs, withoutinterruption, and at last without difficulty. In the process here described, we perceive the commencement of Nature'sexercises in training her pupil to the acquisition of this valuablefaculty. It consists chiefly, as we have said, in enabling the child byregular practice to arrive at such a command of the mental faculties, and the powers of articulation, as qualifies him to exercise bothapparently at the same moment. His mind is employed in preparing one setof ideas, while the organs of speech are engaged in giving utterance toanother. He thinks that which he is about to speak, at the moment he isspeaking that which he previously thought; and if, as is generallyadmitted, the mind cannot be engaged upon two things at the same moment, there is here an instance of such a rapid and successive transition fromone to another, as obviously to elude perception. The various means which Nature employs in working out this great end inthe young are very remarkable. We have seen that a child at first doesnot possess the power of uttering even a word, while his thoughts areengaged on any thing else. The powers of the mind must as it were beconcentrated upon that one word, till by long practice he can at lastthink on one and utter another. The same difficulty of speaking andthinking on different things is observable in his amusements; and Natureappears to employ the powerful auxiliary of his play to assist him inovercoming it. When a young child is engaged in any amusement whichrequires thought, the inability of the mind to do double duty is veryevident. He cannot hear a question, nor speak a single sentence, and goon with his play at the same time. If a question be asked, he stops, looks up, hears, answers, and then perhaps collects his thoughts, andagain proceeds with his game as before; but for a long time he cannoteven hear, far less speak, and play at the same moment. When a child isable to do this, it is a good sign of his having acquired considerablemental powers. The excitement of play, we have said, is one chief means which Natureemploys for the cultivation of this faculty, and it is peculiarly worthyof attention by the Educationist. Every one must have observed thestrong desire which children have, during their more exhilarating games, to exercise their lungs by shouting, and calling out, and givingdirection, encouragement, or reproof, to their companions. In all theseinstances, the impetus of their play is not apparently stopt while theyspeak, and every time that this takes place, they are promoting theirmental, as well as their physical health and well-being. The accuracy ofthis remark is perhaps more conspicuous, although not more real, in theless boisterous and more placid employment of the young. The livelyprattle of the girl, while constructing her baby-house; her playfularrogation of authority and command over her playmates, and herserio-comic administering of commendation or reproof in the assumedcharacter of "mistress" or "mother, " are all instances of a similarkind. A little attention to the matter will convince any one, that everysentence uttered by a child while dressing a doll, or rigging a ship, orcutting a stick, is really intended and employed by Nature in advancingthis great object. And we cannot help remarking, that the irksomesilence so frequently enjoined upon children during their play, orduring any species of active employment, is not only harsh andunnecessary, but is positively hurtful. It is in direct opposition bothto the design and the practice of Nature. It is obstructing, or at leastneglecting the cultivation and the developement of powers, which aredestined to be a chief ornament of life; a source of honour andenjoyment to the pupil himself, and ultimately a great benefit tosociety. The cultivation of this faculty in adults, after they have emancipatedthemselves from the discipline of Nature, is advanced or retarded by theuse or neglect of similar means. Accordingly we find, that in everyinstance where the powers of the mind are actively, (not mechanically)employed, while the individual is at the same time called on to exercisehis powers of speech and hearing on something else, this faculty ofextemporaneous speaking is cultivated, and rendered more easy andfluent. Whereas, on the contrary, the most extensive acquaintance withwords, even when combined with much knowledge, has but little influencein making a ready speaker. Many of the most voluble of our specieshave but a very scanty vocabulary, and still less knowledge; while menof extensive and profound learning, whose habits have been formed in thestudy, are often defective even in common conversation, and utterlyunable to undertake with success the task of public extemporaneousspeaking. From this cause it is, that some of our ablest men, and ourgreatest scholars, are necessitated to read that which they dare nottrust themselves to speak; while others, by a different practice, andperhaps with fewer real attainments, feel no difficulty in arrangingtheir ideas, and delivering them at the same time with ease and fluency. Hence it is also, that travelling, frequent intercourse with strangers, debating societies, and above all, forensic pleadings, sharpen thefaculties, and give an ease and accuracy in thinking and speaking, whichare but rarely acquired in the same degree in any other way. There is one particular feature in this department of Nature's teaching, which is of so much importance both to the young and to adults, that itought not to be passed over without notice. It is the important fact, that the highest attainments in this valuable accomplishment are withinthe reach of almost every individual pupil, by a very moderate diligencein the use of the proper means. The counterpart of this is equally true;for without culture, either regular or accidental, no portion of it canever be acquired. This is abundantly proved both by experience andanalogy. Experience has shewn, that in every case, perseverance alone, often without system, has made great and powerful speakers; and theanalogy between the expression of our feelings by _words_ and by_music_, shews what proper training may do in both cases. Every one willadmit that it is easier to give expression to our feelings by thenatural organs of speech, than by the mechanical use of a musicalinstrument; and if by making use of the proper means, and with amoderate degree of diligence and perseverance, every man can be trainedto play dexterously on the violin, or the organ, and at the same momentmaintain a perfect command over the operations of his mind, --we mayreasonably conclude, from analogy, that with an equal, or even a smallerdegree of diligence, when the means have been equally systematized, themost humble individual may be trained to manage the operations of hismind, while he is otherwise making use of his _tongue_, as the other isof his _fingers_. But the opposite of this, as we have stated above, is equally true. For, although a man may, by diligence and perseverance, attain a high degreeof perfection in the exercise of this faculty; yet, even the lowest mustbe procured by the use of means. The art of thinking and speakingdifferent ideas at the same time, as we have proved, is not aninstinctive, but is wholly an acquired faculty, and must be attained byexercise wherever it is possessed. We have instanced as examples thecase of the girl having at first to stop while dressing her doll, andthe boy while rigging his ship; but what we wish to notice here is, thatthe principle is not peculiar to children, whose ideas are few, andwhose language is imperfect, but applies equally to adults, even ofsuperior attainments, and well cultivated minds. We have in part provedthis by the frequent defects of even learned men in conversation; butthere is good reason to conclude, that even these defects would havebeen greater, if the few opportunities they have improved had been lessnumerous. In short, it appears, that the successful uttering of but twoconsecutive words, while the mind is otherwise engaged, must be acquiredeven in the adult, by education or by discipline. This important fact ineducation, might be demonstrated by numerous proofs, deduced from actswhich are commonly understood to depend altogether on habit, and wherethe mind is obviously but little engaged. We shall take the case alreadysupposed, that of the fingering of musical instruments. The rapiditywith which the fingers in this exercise perform their office, would leadus to pronounce it to be purely mechanical, and to suppose that the mindwas at perfect liberty to attend to any of the other functions of thebody, during the performance. But this is not the case; for although bylong practice, the operator has acquired the art of _thinking_ uponvarious other subjects while playing, he finds upon a first trial, thathe is then totally unable to articulate two words in succession. Herethen is a case exactly parallel with that of the children who had tostop to speak during their play; proving that it does not arise from thelack of ideas, or a deficiency in words, but purely from want ofdiscipline and practice; because many musicians by practice, and bypractice alone, overcome the difficulty, and become able both to speakand to play at the same time. There is another circumstance connected with this part of our subject, which is worthy of remark. A person who is playing on an instrument, andwho is desirous to speak, finds himself, without long practice, totallyunable to do so; but he may, if he pleases, sing what he has to say, provided only that he modulate his voice to the tune he is playing. Thereason of this appears to be two-fold; first, that the mind, byfollowing the tune in the articulation of the words, is relieved in agreat measure from doing double duty; and secondly, and chiefly, becausethe person has already acquired, by more or less practice, the facultyof singing and playing at the same time. From this illustration, weperceive the necessity that exists in education, of cultivating in theyoung, by direct means and special exercises, this important faculty ofmanaging the thoughts and giving expression to them at the same moment. It must be acquired by a course of mental discipline, which brings allthe elements of the principle into operation; the collecting andmanaging of ideas, the chusing and arranging of words, and the giving ofthem utterance, at the same time. That direct exercises of this kind arenecessary for the purpose, is obvious from the illustrations here given;where we find, that although a person, while playing on an instrument, may sing his words, he is yet unable to make the slightest deviationfrom singing to speaking, without a long and laborious practice. Here then we have been enabled to trace this supplementary process ofNature in the education of her pupils, and to detect the great leadingprinciple or law, by which it is governed. The attainment itself is theready and fluent communication of our ideas to others; and the modeemployed by nature for arriving at it, appears to be the training of herpupils to exercise their minds upon one set of ideas, while they aregiving expression to another. That the mind is actually engaged in twodifferent ways, at the same moment of time, it is not necessary for usto suppose. It is sufficient for our purpose, that the operations sorapidly succeed each other, as to appear to do so. The ability toaccomplish this, we have proved to be in every case an acquired habit, and is never possessed, even in the smallest degree, without effort. Itis, in fact, the invariable result of exercise and education. The mostgifted of our species are frequently destitute of it; while very feebleminds have been found to possess it, when by chance or design they haveemployed the proper means for its attainment. What is wanted by theEducationist therefore, is an exercise, or series of exercises, whichwill enable him to imitate Nature, by causing his pupil to employ hismind in preparing one set of ideas, while he is giving expression toanother. Such an exercise, upon whatever subject, will always produce, in a greater or less degree, the effect which Nature by thissupplementary process intends to accomplish; that of giving the pupilease and fluency in conversation, and a ready faculty of delivering hissentiments; while we have seen, by numerous illustrations, that it is atleast highly improbable that it ever can be acquired in any other way. We have also demonstrated the impropriety of all unnecessary artificialrestrictions upon children while at their play, and of preventing theirspeaking, calling out, and giving orders, encouragement, or commendationto their companions during it. These illustrations and examples havealso pointed out to us the importance of encouraging the young to speakor converse with their teachers or one another, while they are activelyemployed at work, in their amusements, or in any other way in which themind is but partially engaged. Exercises of this kind in the domesticcircle, where they could be more frequently resorted to, would be ofgreat value in forwarding the mental capacities of the young, and mightbe at least equally and extensively useful, as similar exercisesemployed in the school. The consideration of suitable exercises foradvancing these ends, by which Nature may be successfully imitated inthis important part of her process, belongs to another department ofthis Treatise, to which accordingly we must refer. FOOTNOTES: [8] Note G. CHAP. XII. _Recapitulation of the Philosophical Principles developed in theprevious Chapters. _ Before proceeding to the third and more practical part of this Treatise, it will be of advantage here, shortly to review the progress we havemade in establishing the several educational principles, exhibited inthe operations of Nature, as it is upon these that the followingpractical recommendations are to be entirely founded. In doing this, wewould wish to press upon the attention of the reader the importantconsideration, that however much we may fail in what is to _follow_, theprinciples which we have _already ascertained_, must still remain asstationary landmarks in education, at which all future advances, bywhomsoever made, must infallibly set out. The previous chapters, therefore, in so far as they have given a correct exposition of Nature'smodes of teaching, must constitute something like the model upon whichall her future imitators in education will have to work. There may be achange of _order_, and a change of _names_, but the principlesthemselves, in so far as they have been discovered, will for ever remainunchanged and unchangeable. --It is very different, however, with what isto _follow_, in which we are to make some attempts at imitation. Theprinciples which regulate the rapid movements of fish through water isone thing; and the attempt to imitate these principles by theship-builder is quite another thing. The first, when correctlyascertained, remain the unalterable standard for every future navalarchitect; but the attempts at imitation will change and improve, aslong as the minds of men are directed to the perfecting ofship-building. In like manner, the various facts in the educationalprocesses of Nature, in so far as they have been correctly ascertainedin the previous part of this Treatise, must form the unalterable basisfor every future improvement in education. These facts, or principles, will very probably be found to form only a part of her operations;--butas they do really form _a part_, they will become a nucleus, round whichall the remaining principles when discovered will necessarilycongregate. We shall here therefore endeavour very shortly torecapitulate the several principles or laws employed by Nature in heracademy, so far as we have been able to detect them; as it must be uponthese that not only we, but all our successors in the improvement ofeducation, must hereafter proceed. We have seen in a former chapter, that the educational processes ofNature divide themselves distinctly into four different kinds. _First_, the cultivation of the powers of the mind:--_Second_, the acquisition ofknowledge:--_Third_, the uses or application of that knowledge to thedaily varying circumstances of the pupil:--and _Fourth_, the ability tocommunicate this knowledge and experience to others. The _first_ department of Nature's teaching, that of cultivating thepowers of her pupil's mind, we found to depend chiefly, if not entirely, upon one simple mental operation, that of "reiterating ideas;" and fromnumerous examples and experiments it has been shewn, that wherever thisact of the mind takes place, there is, and there must be, mentalculture; while, on the contrary, wherever it does not take place, thereis not, so far as we can yet perceive, the slightest indication that themind has either been exercised or benefited. The _second_ department of Nature's teaching, we have seen, consists ininducing and assisting her pupils to acquire knowledge. --This object wefound her accomplishing by means of four distinct principles, which shebrings into operation in regular order, according to the age and mentalcapacity of the pupil. These we have named the principle of "Perceptionand Reiteration, " which is the same as that employed in her firstprocess;--the principle which we have named "Individuation, " whichalways precedes and prepares for the two following;--there is then theprinciple of "Association, " or "Grouping, " by which the imagination iscultivated, and the memory is assisted;--and there is, lastly, theprinciple of "Classification, " or "Analysis, " by which all knowledgewhen received is regularly classified according to its nature; by whichmeans the memory is relieved, the whole is kept in due order, andremains constantly at the command of the will. --These four principles, so far as we have yet been able to investigate the processes of Nature, are the chief, if not the only, means which she employs in assisting andinducing the pupil to acquire knowledge; and which of course ought to beemployed in a similar way, and in the same order, by the teacher in themanagement of his classes. The _third_, and by far the most important series of exercises inNature's academy, we have ascertained, by extensive evidence, to be thetraining of her pupils to a constant practical application of theirknowledge to the ordinary affairs of life. --These exercises she hasseparated into two distinct classes; the one connected with the physicaland intellectual phenomena of our nature, and which is regulated by whatwe have termed the "animal, or common sense;" and the other connectedwith our moral nature, and regulated by our "moral sense, " orconscience. In both of these departments, however, the methods whichNature employs in guiding to the practical application of the pupil'sknowledge are precisely the same, consisting of a regular gradation ofthree distinct steps, or stages. These steps we have found to followeach other in the following order. There is always first, somefundamental truth, or idea--some definite part of our knowledge of whichuse is to be made;--there is next an inference, or lesson, drawn fromthat idea, or truth;--and there is, lastly, a practical application ofthat lesson, or inference, to the present circumstances of theindividual. This part of Nature's educational process, --thisapplication, or use of knowledge, we have ascertained and proved to bethe great object which Nature designs by _all her previous efforts_. This part of her work, when completed, forms in fact the great Temple ofEducation, --all the others were but the scaffolding by which it was tobe reared. --This is the end; those were but means employed for attainingit. In proof of this important fact we have seen, that when this objectis successfully gained, all the previous steps have been homologated andconfirmed; whereas, whenever this crowning operation is awanting, allthe preceding labour of the pupil becomes useless and vain, hisknowledge gradually melts from the memory, and is ultimately lost. The _fourth_, or supplementary process in this educational course asconducted by Nature, we found to consist in the training of her pupilsto an ability to communicate with ease and fluency to others theknowledge and experience which they themselves had acquired. --Thisability, as we have shewn, is not instinctive, but is in every instancethe result of education. It is not always the accompaniment of greatmental capacity; nor is it always at the command of those who haveacquired extensive knowledge. Persons highly gifted in both respects, are often greatly deficient in readiness of utterance, and freedom ofspeech. On careful investigation we have seen, that it is attained onlyby practice, and by one simple exercise of the mental powers, in whichthe thoughts are engaged with one set of ideas, at the same moment thatthe voice is giving expression to others. This faculty has been found tobe eminently social and benevolent, and intended, not so much for thebenefit of the individual himself as for the benefit of society. Nature, accordingly, constrains mankind to do homage to eloquence when it isemployed for others, or for the public;--but strongly induces them tolook with pity or contempt on the person who is always speaking of orfor himself. These facts accordingly have led us to the importantconclusion, that learning and the possession of knowledge are notintended merely for the person himself, but for the good of society; andtherefore, that education in every community ought to be conducted insuch a manner, that the attainments of each individual in it, shalleither directly or indirectly benefit the whole. In these several departments of our mental constitution, and in theprinciples or laws by which they are carried on, we have the greatthoroughfare, --the highway of education, --marked out, inclosed, andlevelled by Nature herself. Hitherto, in our examination of the severalprocesses in which we find her engaged, we have endeavoured strictly toconfine ourselves to the great general principles which she exhibits inforwarding and perfecting them. We have not touched as yet on themethods by which, in our schools, they may be successfully imitated; norhave we made any enquiry into the particular truths or subjects whichought there to be taught. These matters belong to another part of thisTreatise, and will be considered by themselves. And it is only necessaryhere to observe, that as it is the _use_ of knowledge chiefly whichNature labours to attain, it is therefore _useful knowledge_ which sherequires to be taught. This is a principle so prominently held forth byNature, and so repeatedly indicated and enforced, that in the school itought never for an hour to be lost sight of. The whole business of theseminary must be practical; and the knowledge communicated must beuseful, and such as can be put to use. If this rule be attended to, theknowledge communicated will be valuable and permanent;--but if it beneglected, the pretended communications will soon melt from the memory, and the previous labours of both teacher and pupil will be in a greatmeasure lost. The existence of these several principles in education has beenascertained by long experience and slow degrees;--and the accuracy ofthe views which we have taken of them, has been rigorously andrepeatedly tested. No pains has been spared in projecting and conductingsuch experiments as appeared necessary for the purpose; and it has beenby experience and experiment alone that their efficiency has beenestablished. Many of these experiments were conducted in public, --someof them have for years been in circulation, --and the decisiveness oftheir results has never been questioned. The several principles ineducation which it was the object of these experiments to ascertain, arehere for the first time, collected and exhibited in their natural order;and they are now presented to the friends of education with some degreeof confidence. Judging historically, however, from the experience ofothers in breaking up new ground in the sciences, there is good reasonto believe, that the present Treatise goes but a short way inestablishing the science of education. There is yet much to be done; andothers, no doubt, will follow to complete it. But if confidence is to beplaced in history, it appears evident, that they must follow in the samecourse, if ever they are to succeed. Nature is our only instructress;and however much she may have hitherto been neglected, it is only byfollowing her leadings with a child-like docility, that improvement isever to be expected. By so following, however, success is certain. Theprospects of the science at the present moment, both as to its spreadand its improvement, are exceedingly cheering. The field, which is nowbeing opened up for the labours of the Educationist, is extensive andinviting; and the anticipations of the philanthropist become the moredelightful, on account of the improvements likely to ensue for carryingon the work. The errors and failings of former attempts will warn, whileevery new discovery will direct in the labour. The virgin soil has evenyet in a great measure to be broken up; and if we shall be wise enoughto employ the implements provided for us by Nature herself, the presentgeneration may yet witness a rapid and abundant ingathering of blessingsfor the world. This is neither a hasty nor a groundless speculation. There are already abundant proofs to warrant us in cherishing it. Numerous patches of ground have again and again, under seriousdisadvantages, been partially cultivated; and each and all haveinvariably succeeded, and produced the first fruits of a ripe, a rich, and an increasing harvest. PART III. ON THE METHODS BY WHICH THE EDUCATIONAL PROCESSES OF NATURE MAY BESUCCESSFULLY IMITATED. CHAP. I. _On the Exercises by which Nature may be imitated in cultivating thePowers of the Mind. _ In the educational processes of Nature, her first object appears to bethe cultivation of her pupil's mind; and this, therefore, ought also tobe the first concern of the parent and teacher. --The wisdom of thisarrangement is obvious. For as success in a great measure depends uponthe vigour and extent of those powers, their early cultivation willrender the succeeding exercises easy and pleasant, and will greatlyabridge the anxiety and labour of both teacher and scholar. There is no doubt a great diversity in the natural capacities ofchildren; and phrenology, as well as daily experience shews, thatchildren who are apt in learning one thing, may be exceedingly dull andbackward in acquiring others. But after making every allowance for thisvariety in the intellectual powers of children, it is well establishedby experience, and repeated experiments have confirmed the fact, [9] thatthe very dullest and most obtuse of the children found in any of ourschools, are really capable of rapid cultivation, and may, by the use ofproper means, be very soon brought to bear their part in the usualexercises fitted for the ordinary children. A large proportion of thedulness so frequently complained of by teachers arises, not so much fromany natural defect, or inherent mental weakness in the child, as fromthe want of that early mental exercise, --real mental culture, --of whichwe are here speaking. Whenever this dulness in a sane scholar continuesfor any length of time, there is good reason to fear that it is owing tosome palpable mismanagement on the part of the parent or teacher. Onexamination it will most likely be found, either that the pupil has hadexercises prescribed to him which the powers of his mind were as yetincapable of accomplishing; or, if the exercises themselves have beensuitable, there has been more prescribed than he was able to overtake. In either case the effect will be the same. The mind has beenunnaturally burdened, or overstretched; confusion of ideas and mentalweakness have been the consequence; and if so, the very attempt to keepup with his companions in the class only tends to aggravate the evil. Hence arises the propriety of following Nature in making the expansionand cultivation of the powers of the mind our first object; and ourdesign in the present chapter is to examine into the means by which, inthe exercises of the school, she may be successfully imitated in theoperations which she employs for this purpose. We have in our previous investigations seen, that the cultivation of themental powers is a work of extraordinary simplicity, depending entirelyupon one act of the mind, --the reiteration of ideas. We have proved, bya variety of familiar instances, that wherever this act takes place, themind is, and must be exercised, and so far strengthened; while, on thecontrary, wherever it does not take place, there is neither mentalexercise, nor any perceptible accession of mental strength. It does notdepend upon the particular form of the exercise, whether it consists ofreading, hearing, writing, or speaking; but simply and entirely uponthe reality and the frequency of the reiteration of the included ideasduring it. This makes the cultivation and strengthening of the powers ofthe mind a very simple and a very certain operation. For if the teachercan succeed by any means in producing frequent and successiverepetitions of _this act_ of the mind in any of his pupils, Nature willbe true to her own law, and mental culture, and mental strength willassuredly follow;--but, on the contrary, whenever in a school exercisethis act is awanting, there can be no permanent progression in theeducation of the pupil, and no amelioration in the state of his mind. The mechanical reading or repeating of words, for example, like thefingering of musical instruments, may be performed for months or yearssuccessively, without the powers of the mind being actively engaged inthe process at all; leaving the child without mental exercise, andconsequently without improvement. In following out the only legitimate plan for the accomplishment of thisfundamental object, that of imitating Nature, the first thing requiredby the teacher is an exercise, or series of exercises, by which he shallbe able _at his own will_ to enforce upon his pupils this important actof the mind. If this object can be successfully attained, then theproper means for the intellectual improvement of the child are secured;but as long as it is awanting, his mental cultivation is either left tochance, or to the capricious decision of his own will;--for experienceshews, that although a child may be compelled to read, or to repeat the_words_ of his exercises, they contain no power by which the teacher canensure the reiteration of the _ideas_ they contain. The words maycorrectly and fluently pass from the tongue, while the mind is activelyengaged upon something else, and as much beyond the reach of the teacheras ever. But if the desiderated exercise could be procured, the power ofenforcing mental activity upon a prescribed subject would then remain, not in the possession of the child, but would be transferred to theteacher, at whose pleasure the mental cultivation of the pupil wouldproceed, whether he himself willed it or no. In the "catechetical exercise, " as it has been called, and which has oflate years been extensively used by our best teachers, the desideratumabove described has been most happily and effectively supplied to theEducationist. This valuable exercise may not perhaps be new;--butcertainly its nature, and its importance in education, till of lateyears, has been altogether overlooked, or unknown. It differs from theformer mode of catechising, (or rather of using catechisms) in this, that whereas a catechism provides an answer for the child in a set formof words, --the catechetical exercise, having first _provided him withthe means_, compels him to search for, to select, and to construct ananswer for himself. For example, an announcement is given by histeacher, or it is read from his book. This is the raw material uponwhich both the teacher and the child are to work, and within theboundaries of which the teacher especially must strictly confinehimself. Upon this announcement a question is founded, [10] which obligesthe child, before he can even prepare an answer, to reiterate in his ownmind, not the _words_, --for that would not answer his purpose, --but theseveral _ideas_ contained in the sentence or truth announced. All theseideas must be perceived, --they must pass in review before the mind, --andfrom among them he must select the one required, arrange it in his ownway, and give it to the teacher entirely as his own idea, and clothedaltogether in his own words. In the common method of making use of catechisms, the words of theanswer may be read, or they may be committed to memory, and may berepeated with ease and fluency; while the ideas, --the truths theycontain, --may neither be perceived nor reiterated. In this there isneither mental exercise, nor mental improvement;--and, what is worse, without the catechetical exercise, the teacher has no means of knowingwhether it be so or not. By means of the catechetical exercise, on thecontrary, there can be no evasion, --no doubt as to the mental activityof the pupil, and his consequent mental improvement. Its benefits arevery extensive; and in employing it the teacher is not only sure thatthe ideas in the announcement have been perceived and reiterated, butthat a numerous train of useful mental operations must have taken place, before his pupil could by any possibility return him an answer to hisquestions. We shall, before proceeding, point out a few of these. Let us then suppose that a child either reads, or repeats as the answerto a question, the words, "Jesus died for sinners. "--At this point inthe former mode of using a catechism, the exercise of the pupil stopped;and the parent or teacher understanding the meaning of the sentence, andclearly perceiving the ideas himself, usually took it for granted thatthe child also did so, or at least at some future time would do so. Thiswas mere conjecture; and he had no means of ascertaining its certainty, however important. It is at this point that the catechetical exercisecommences its operations. When the child has repeated the words, or whenthe teacher for the first time announces them, the mind of the child maybe in a state very unfavourable to its improvement; but as soon as theteacher asks him a question founded upon one or more of the ideas whichthe announcement contains, and which he must answer without fartherhelp, the state of his mind is instantly and materially changed. Hitherto he may have been altogether passive on the subject;--nay, hismind while reading or repeating the words, may have been busily engagedon something else, or altogether occupied with his companions or hisplay;--but as soon as the teacher asks him "Who died?" there is aninstant withdrawal of the mind from every thing else, and an exclusiveconcentration of its powers upon the ideas in the announcement. He mustthink, --and he must think in a certain way, and upon the specific ideaspresented to him by the teacher, --before it is possible for him toreturn an answer. It is on this account that this exercise is soeffective an instrument in cultivating the powers of the mind;--and itis to the long series of exercises which take place in this operation, that we are now calling the attention of the reader, that he mayperceive how closely this exercise follows in the line prescribed byNature, in creating occasions for the successive reiteration ofdifferent ideas suggested by one question. When, in pursuing the catechetical exercise, a question is asked from anannouncement, there is first a call upon the attention, and an exerciseof mind upon the _question_ asked, the words of which must be translatedby the pupil into their proper ideas, which accordingly he must bothperceive and understand. He has then to revert to the _ideas_ (not thewords) contained in the original announcement, the words of which areperhaps still ringing in his ears; and these he must also perceive andreiterate in his mind, before he can either understand them or prepareto give an answer. At this point the child is necessarily in possessionof the ideas--the truths--conveyed by the announcement; and therefore atthis point one great end of the teacher has in so far been gained. Butthe full benefit of the exercise, in so far as it is capable of fixingthese truths still more permanently on the memory, and of discipliningthe mind, has not yet been exhausted. After the pupil has reiterated inhis mind the ideas contained in the original sentence, or passageannounced, he has again to revert to the question of the teacher, andcompare it with the several ideas which the announcement contains. Hehas then to chuse from among them, --all of them being still held inreview by the mind, --the particular idea to which his attention has beencalled by the question;--and last of all, and which is by no means theleast as a mental exercise, he has to clothe this particular idea inwords, and construct his sentence in such a way as to make it both senseand grammar. In this last effort, it is worthy of remark, children, after having been but a short while subjected to this exercise, almostinvariably succeed, although they know nothing about grammar, and mayperhaps never have heard of the name. But even this is not all. There has as yet been only one question asked, and the answer to this question refers to only one idea contained in theannouncement. But it embraces at least three several ideas; and each ofthese ideas, by the catechetical exercise, is capable of originatingother questions, perfectly distinct from each other, and each of whichgives rise to a similar mental process, and with equally beneficialresults, in exercising and strengthening the powers of the mind. It is also here of importance to take notice of the additional benefitsthat arise from the multiplying of questions upon one announcement. Thefirst question proposed from the announcement, brought the mind of thechild into immediate contact with all the ideas which it contained. Theyare now therefore familiar to him; and he is perfectly prepared for thesecond, and for every succeeding question formed upon it; and hefashions the answers with readiness and zest. Every such answer is akind of triumph to the child, which he gives with ease and pleasure, andyet every one of them, as an exercise of the mind, is equally beneficialas the first. When the teacher therefore asks, "What did Jesus do?" andafterwards, "For whom did Jesus die?" a little reflection will at onceshew, that a similar mental exercise must take place at each question, in which the child has not only to reiterate the several originalideas, but must again and again compare the questions asked, with eachone of them, choose out the one required, clothe it in his own language, and in this form repeat it audibly to his teacher. Before leaving this enquiry into the nature and effects of thecatechetical exercise, there are two circumstances connected with it asa school-engine, which deserve particular attention. The first is, thatNature has made this same reiteration of ideas, for the securing ofwhich this exercise is used, the chief means of conveying knowledge tothe mind; and the second is, the undissembled delight which childrenexhibit while under its influence, wherever it is naturally andjudiciously conducted. With respect to the former of thesecircumstances, it falls more particularly to be considered in anotherchapter, and under a following head; but with respect to thelatter, --the delight felt in the exercise by the childrenthemselves, --it deserves here a more close examination. Every one who has paid any attention to the subject must have observedthe life, the energy, the enjoyment, which are observable in a class ofchildren, while they are under the influence, and subjected to thediscipline of the catechetical exercise. This will perhaps be still moreremarkable, if ever they have had an opportunity of contrasting thislively scene with the death-like monotony of a school where the exerciseis as yet unknown. Many can yet remember instances when it was firstintroduced into some of the Sabbath schools in Scotland, and theastonishment of the teachers at its instantaneous effects upon the mindand conduct of their children. The whole aspect of the school waschanged; and the children, who had but a few minutes before beenconspicuous only for their apathy, restlessness, or inattention, wereinstantly aroused to life, and energy, and delight. Similar effects insome children are still witnessed; but, happily for education, thefirst exhibition of it to a whole school is not so common. One strikingproof of the novelty and extent of its effects upon the pupils, and ofthe vivid contrast it produced with that to which the teachers had atthat time been accustomed, is afforded by the fact, that seriousobjections were sometimes made to its introduction, by well-meaningindividuals, on account of its breaking in, as they said, upon theproper devotional solemnity of the children;--as if the apathy oflanguor and weariness was identical with reverence, and mental energyand joyous feelings were incompatible with the liveliest devotion. Theseopinions have now happily disappeared; and the catechetical exercise isnot now, on that account, so frequently opposed. Christians nowperceive, that by making these rough places smooth, and the crooked waysstraight for the tottering feet of the lambs of the flock, they arefollowing the best, as it is the appointed means, of "making ready apeople prepared for the Lord. " To the teacher, especially, it must be a matter of great practicalimportance, to perceive clearly the cause why this exercise is sofascinating to the young, as well as so beneficial in education. Thecause, when we analyze all the circumstances, is simply this, that itresembles, in all its leading characteristics, those amusements andpastimes of which children are so fond. In other words, the prosecutionof the catechetical exercise with the young, produces in reality thesame effects as a game would do if played with their teacher. It bringsinto action, and it keeps in lively operation, all those mentalelements, which, in ordinary cases, constitute their play; and theeffects of course are nearly similar. We shall direct the reader'sattention to this curious fact for a moment. It is easy to perceive, that the pleasure and happiness experienced by achild during his play, arise altogether from the _state of his mind_, towhich the physical exercises and amusements only conduce. When thismental satisfaction is examined, we find it to consist chiefly of twoelements, --that of active thought, and that of self-approbation. Thefirst, --that of active thought, or the reiteration of ideas, we havebefore pointed out and explained, as it is illustrated in their play, and in the pleasure they take in hearing stories, reading riddles, dressing dolls, and similar acts; and it is only here necessary to add, that their desire of congregating together for amusement has its originin a similar cause. New ideas stimulate more powerfully to activethought; and children soon find, and insensibly draw the lesson, thatthe aggregate of new ideas is always enlarged by an increase of thenumber of persons who supply them. Two children will play with the samenumber of toys for a longer time, without tiring, than if they werealone;--and three or four would, in the same proportion, increase theinterest and prolong the season of activity. But as soon as thereiteration of the ideas suggested by their game becomes languid ordifficult, their play for the time loses its charms, and the fascinationis gone. That it is the cessation of active thought, which is the chiefcause of their play ceasing to please, is proved from the circumstance, that if another interesting companion shall be added to their number, orif any thing shall occur to renew this operation, --the reiteration ofideas, --upon the mind, the same degree of interest, and to acorresponding extent, is immediately felt, and the play is resumed. Now, the catechetical exercise is in reality the same operation in anotherform. The questions of the teacher excite the pupil to the same kind ofactive thought as that which gives relish to his play; and, while theteacher confines himself within the limits of the announcement, themental excitement is active, but moderate, and always successful. This leads us to observe the influence which the catechetical exerciseexerts in affording means for that self-approbation, or sense of merit, which constitutes another element of delight to a child during his play. All must have observed the beneficial effects of this principle inchildren, as an incitement to emulation and good conduct. It is not onlyperceptible in the love of approbation from their superiors, but intheir desire to excel at all times. We see it in the pleasure felt bythe child when he outstrips his fellows in the race, --when he catcheshis companion at "hide and seek, "--when he finds the hidden article at"seek and find, "--in winning a game, expounding a riddle, or gaining aplace in his class. In all these instances there is a feeling of puresatisfaction and delight;--a feeling of self-estimation, which is atonce the guardian and the reward of virtue. Now, when the catecheticalexercise is conducted in its purity, --that is, when the teacher keepsstrictly to the announcement, without wandering where the child cannotfollow him, --the answers are invariably within the limits of the child'scapacity;--they are answered successfully; and every answer is a subjectof triumph. He has a delightful consciousness of having overcome adifficulty, deserved approbation, and made an advance in the pathway ofmerit. When properly conducted, therefore, the catechetical exercisebecomes to the pupils a succession of victories; and it imparts all thatdelight, softened and purified, which he experiences in excelling hiscompanion, or in winning a game. --These are the reasons why thecatechetical exercise is so much relished by the young, and why it hassucceeded so powerfully, not only in smoothing the pathway of education, but also in shortening it. From a careful consideration of all these circumstances, we are led toconclude, that the catechetical exercise does, in a superior degree, fulfil all the stipulations required for imitating Nature, in excitingto the reiteration of ideas by children, and thus disciplining andcultivating the powers of their minds. We might also have remarked, that another advantage arising from persevering in this exercise, is thearresting of the attention of the children, and successfully trainingthem to hear and understand through life the oral communications ofothers;--but we hasten to consider the time and the order in which thisexercise should be made use of in schools. Nature intends, that the cultivation and strengthening of the powers ofthe mind shall in every case precede those exercises in which theirstrength is to be tried. In infants and young children we perceive thiscultivation and invigorating of the mind going on, long before thesepowers are to be taxed even for their own preservation. The child is nodoubt putting them to use; but in every such case it is voluntary, andnot compulsory, --a matter of choice on the part of the child, and not ofnecessity. The infant, or even the child, is never required to take careof itself, to clothe itself, to wash itself, or even to feed itself. Torequire it to do so before the mind could comprehend the nature and thedesign of the particular duty, would be both unreasonable and cruel. This being the case, the exercises of the nursery and the school must beregulated in a similar manner, and follow the same law. The duecultivation of the mind, like the due preparation of the soil, mustalways precede the sowing of the seed. If this principle in Nature beduly attended to, the seeds of knowledge afterwards cast into the soilthus broken up and prepared, will be readily received and nourished toperfection; but if the soil be neglected, both the seed and the labourwill be lost, the anticipations of the spring and summer will end indelusion, and the folly of the whole proceeding will be shewn by asuccession of noxious weeds, and at last by an unproductive harvest. The evils which must necessarily result from thus running counter toNature in this first part of her educational proceedings, may be aptlyillustrated by the very common custom of beginning a child's educationby teaching it to read. It would perhaps be difficult to convince manythat this custom is either unnatural or improper. We shall not attempthere to _argue_ the matter, but shall merely state a fact which theycannot deny, and which will answer the purpose we think much better thanan argument. --To teach the art of reading was wont to require the labourof several months, sometimes years, before the perusal of a book couldbe managed by the child with any degree of ease, --and even then, withoutany thing approaching to satisfaction or pleasure. And even yet, although the error has in some measure been perceived of late years, yetthe art of reading by the young, still requires several months'attendance at school, with corresponding labour to the teacher, andgreat irritation and unhappiness to the child. But experience hasestablished the fact, that, by acting on the principle of previouspreparation which we are here enforcing, and by calling into operationthe principle of individuation formerly explained, the whole drudgery ofteaching a child to read is got over in a week, --sometimes in a day; andthis with much more ease and satisfaction, than could have been done bya thousand lessons while his mind was unprepared. [11] The accumulation of labour, and the loss of precious time by thisnon-observance of the dictates of Nature, are in themselves seriousevils; but they are not by any means so great as some others whichalmost invariably accompany this unnatural mode of proceeding with theyoung. Many who have nominally been _taught to read_, are still quiteunable to _understand by reading_. Those who have heard chapters read byfamilies in the country, "verse about, " will at once understand what wehere mean; and even in towns and cities where newspapers and low-pricedbooks are more numerous and more tempting, it often requires longpractice before the emancipated child can read these publications soreadily and intelligently as they are intended to be. It is another, andan entirely different course of learning to which he subjects himself, when he labours to acquire the capacity of understanding the words thathe _reads_, as readily as the words that he _hears_. Where theinducements to this are sufficiently powerful, the ability is no doubt_at last_ acquired;--but where these stimulants are awanting, thedifficulty of understanding by reading has by the previous habit becomeso great, that reading is gradually disused, and at last forgotten. Many are at a loss to account for this; but it is easily explained onthe above principles. To teach a child to read, before his mind iscapable of understanding, or of reiterating the ideas conveyed by thewords he is reading, is to train him to this habit of readingmechanically;--that is, of reading without understanding. He graduallyacquires the habit of pronouncing the words which he traces with theeye, while the mind is busily engaged upon something else; in the samemanner that a person acquires the habit of thinking, and even ofspeaking, while knitting a stocking, or sewing a seam. This habit isconfirmed by constant practice; and then, the difficulty of getting offthe habit is all but insurmountable. This difficulty will be bestunderstood by the experience of those who have been during some time oftheir life compelled to abandon a habit after it was thoroughlyconfirmed;--or by those who will but try the difficulty of perseveringto do something with the left hand, which has hitherto been done withthe right. A very little consideration will shew, that when this habitof reading mechanically has once been established, it will require, likean improper mode of holding the pen in writing, ten-fold more labour andself-denial to _remedy_ the evil, than it would have taken at first to_prevent_ it, by learning to do the thing properly and perfectly. Much therefore depends upon the early and persevering use of thecatechetical exercise for cultivating a child's mind, before beginningto teach it the art of reading, or requiring it to make use of thepowers of the mind on subjects which these powers are as yet incapableof comprehending. By proper _preliminary_ exercises, the powers of themind will be gradually expanded; ideas of every different kind, bothindividually and in connection with each other, will become familiar;the design of language in receiving and communicating truth will bydegrees be practically understood; and, by means of the catecheticalexercise, it will be gradually and successfully practised. These areobviously the means by which the present crooked ways in the child'searly progress in education are to be made straight, and the rough anddifficult paths which he has had so long to tread, may now be made botheasy and smooth. [12] The effects of the catechetical exercise, and its uniform beneficialresults, have given sufficient evidence of its being a close imitationof Nature in this part of her educational process. Its success indeedhas been invariable, even when employed by those who remainedunconscious of the great principles by which that success was to beregulated. The observations and experiments employed to ascertain insome measure the extent of its efficiency, have uniformly beensatisfactory, and to a few of these we shall here very shortly advert. The first case of importance, which came under our notice, and to whichwe think it advisable to allude, is that of Mary L. Who, about the year1820, resided in Lady Yester's parish in Edinburgh. This girl, when hername was taken up for the Local Sabbath Schools in that parish, wasabout seven or eight years of age, and in respect to mental capacity, appeared to be little better than an idiot. She could not comprehend themost simple idea, if it related to any thing beyond the householdobjects which were daily forced upon her observation, and which hadindividually become familiar to the senses; and was unable to receiveany instruction with the other children, however young. The catecheticalexercise was adopted with her, as with the other scholars; and although, for a long period, she was unable to _collect knowledge_, yet theconstant discipline to which the powers of the mind were thus subjected, had the happiest effect in bringing them into tone, and at last givingher the command of them. The comprehending of a simple truth whenannounced, became more and more distinct, and the answering of thecorresponding questions, became gradually more correct and easy. At avery early period she began to relish the exercises of the school; andalthough these occurred only on the Sundays, she continued rapidly toimprove; till, in the course of a few years, she was able to join thehigher classes of the children, and made a respectable appearance amongher companions, at those times when they were submitted toexamination. --When these schools were broken up, no stranger could haveremarked any difference between Mary L. And an ordinary child of thesame age. A similar instance occurred more recently in the case of two sisters, (Margaret and Mary J. ) the condition of whose minds originally wasbetter, although not much, than that of Mary L. At the respective agesof six and eight years, these sisters could scarcely receive orcomprehend the simplest idea not connected with their daily ordinaryaffairs. For some years they had no more teaching, or regular mentalexercise, than two hours weekly on the Sundays, and during that periodthey were, in regard to mental capacity, advancing, but still nearlyalike. The eldest (Margaret, ) was then removed to another class, theteacher of which dedicated another evening during the week for thebenefit of her scholars. The consequence of this apparently slightaddition to the mental exercise of this girl soon became apparent; andin the course of a short time, the powers of Margaret's mind not onlyadvanced beyond those of her sister's, but equalled at least those ofchildren of the same age, who had not enjoyed similar opportunities ofimprovement. Her sister Mary, who continued to enjoy only the two hourson Sunday, advanced proportionally in mental strength;--and before sheleft the district in which the school was situated, her originalincapacity could scarcely have been credited by a stranger. In proof ofthis, it may be added, that long after she had left the parish, thewriter found her by accident in the school which she attended afterremoving, examined her with the other children, and made some strict andsearching enquiries concerning her. The report of her teacher wasexceedingly satisfactory; and, without knowing the reason of theseenquiries, declared, that Mary J. Was one of her best scholars. Beforeleaving this notice of these two children, there is a circumstance whichmay perhaps be worthy of recording. In Margaret's countenance there hadgradually appeared, latterly, that which to a stranger gave all theordinary indications of intellect, and rather superior intelligence;while in Mary's case, at the same period, there continued to be much ofthat vacancy of look, and stupid stare, indicative rather of what shewas, than of what she had become. That also, however, was graduallydisappearing. We shall advert only to one other instance, less remarkable perhaps, andcertainly not so decisive, on account of the shortness of the timeduring which the experiment was continued. In the opinion of thehonourable and venerable examinators, however, it was considered assufficiently decisive, and of much public importance. Its application toprison discipline may ultimately be of value, where prisoners areconfined but for short periods, and where the cultivation of the mind, and the growing capacity to receive and retain religious truth areobjects of importance. In the experiment in 1828, made before the Lord Provost, Principal, Professors, and Clergymen of Edinburgh, in the County Jail, a class ofcriminals which had been formed three weeks before, and exercised onehour daily, were thoroughly and individually examined withoutintermission during nearly three hours. Our present extract from theReport of that Experiment refers, not to the amount of knowledgeacquired by these persons during these three weeks, but to the capacitywhich, at the end of that time, they were found to possess of acquiringevery sort of knowledge. This experiment was so far imperfect, as theExaminators had no means of ascertaining the true state of their minds, previous to the commencement of their exercises. But having, uponenquiry found from the governor of the prison, that there had been noselection, that all the individuals in the ward had been taken, and thatat the commencement of the experiment, they formed a fair sample of theprisoners commonly under his charge, --the progress of this mentalcultivation during that short period, became a special object ofexamination by the Reverend and learned individuals who conducted it. Their Report of the Experiment bears, that "these individuals had beentaken without any regard to their abilities, and former acquirements, and formed a fair average of the usual prisoners. " In endeavouring toascertain the grasp of mind which these individuals possessed, and thereadiness with which they received and retained whatever was, even forthe first time, communicated to them, "it was mentioned, that agentlemen on the previous day, in order to try the capacity of mindwhich they had attained, desired Mr Gall to catechise them upon asection, consisting of fourteen verses, which they had not seen before, and that, after just ten minutes' examination, one woman, who could notread, repeated the whole distinctly in her own words. Dr Bruntonproposed, for a similar experiment, the parable of the 'talents, ' withwhich none was acquainted except one woman, who was consequently notpermitted to answer. With its being only read to them, and with a fewminutes' catechising, they perceived its various circumstances, and wereable to enumerate them in detail. This exercise demonstrated thecapacity of attention, and the power of analyzing and laying hold ofcircumstances, which they had reached, as well as the indisputablesuperiority of this System, in unfolding and strengthening the mentalfaculties, even in adults. " "The writer of the Report, " it is added, "was not acquainted with theextent of their acquirements when Mr Gall commenced his operations; butjudging from the examination, and from his knowledge of the contents ofthe books taught, he has no hesitation in averring, that the answerswhich they gave, arose entirely from information communicated by them. And when he reflects that their answers, being clothed in their ownwords, guaranteed the fact, that it was _the ideas_ upon which they hadseized, and that their knowledge participated in no degree of rote, theconviction to his mind is irresistible, that the universal applicationof the Lesson System to Prison Discipline, and to adults everywhere, would be followed by effects, incalculably precious to the individualsthemselves, and to the improving of society in general. " Numerous other instances might be adduced in proof of the efficiency ofthis method of attempting to imitate Nature in this first part of hereducational process, who will always be faithful in adhering to her ownlaws, and countenancing her own work. These however may suffice;--and itought not to escape observation, that in two of the cases first alludedto, the young persons enjoyed only two hours' instruction in the week, and these not divided, but continuously given at one time. For thisreason, it might have been feared, that the benefits then received wouldhave been lost, or neutralized, by the variety of objects or amusementswhich must have intervened during the week between the lessons. But itwas not so. And we may here remark, that if with all thesedisadvantages, so much good was really done in cultivating the powers ofthe mind by this exercise, what may we not expect by the enlightened, regular, and daily application of the same powerful principles in ourordinary schools, when the teacher shall know where the virtue of theweapon which he wields really lies, and when the nature of the materialhe is called to work upon is also better understood. Every exercise andevery operation in the school will then be made to "tell;" and everymoment of the pupils' attendance will be improved. In thesecircumstances, we are far within the limits of the truth when we say, that more real substantial education will then be communicated in onemonth, than it has been usual to receive by the labours of a whole year. From what has been already ascertained, we are fully warranted in makingthe following remarks. 1. From the above facts we can readily ascertain the cause, why someexercises employed in education are so much relished by the young, andso efficient in giving strength and elasticity to the mind; whileothers, on the contrary are so inefficient, so irksome, and sometimes sointolerable. Every exercise that tends to produce active thought, --the"reiteration of ideas, "--is natural, and therefore, not only promoteshealthful mental vigour, but is also exciting and delightful; while, onthe contrary, whenever the mind is fettered by the mere decyphering ofwords, or the repeating of sounds, without reiterating ideas, theexercise is altogether unnatural, and must of course be irritating tothe child, and barren of good. 2. By a due consideration of the above principles, we see the reason whymental arithmetic, though it may not communicate any knowledge, is yetproductive of considerable mental vigour. These exercises compel theyoung to a species of voluntary thought, the reiteration in the mind ofthe powers of numbers; and although the result of the particularcalculations which are then made, may never again be of any service tothe pupil, yet the consequent exercise of mind is beneficial. It shouldnever be forgotten, however, that this exercise of mind upon _numbers_is altogether an artificial operation, and is on this account, neitherso efficient nor so pleasant as the reiteration of moral or physicaltruths. The same degree of mental exercise, brought into operation uponsome useful fact, where the imagination as well as the understanding, can take a part, would at once be more natural, more efficient, morepleasant, and more useful. 3. From the nature and operation of the above principle, also, we canperceive in what the efficiency of Pestalozzi's "Exercises on Objects, "consists. --When a child is required to tell you the colour and theconsistence of milk, qualities which have all along been familiar tohim, it conveys to him no knowledge; but it excites to observation andactive thought, --to the "reiteration of ideas;"--and for this reason itis salutary. But it is still equally true, as in the former case, thatthe same degree of mental exercise, brought into operation upon someuseful practical truth, would be at least equally useful as a mentalstimulant, and much more beneficial as an educational exercise. 4. From the nature of this great fundamental principle in mentalcultivation, as consisting in the reiteration of ideas, and not ofwords, we have a key by which we can satisfactorily explain theremarkable, and hitherto unaccountable fact, that many persons who, inyouth and at school, have been ranked among the dullest scholars, haveafterwards become the greatest men. An active mind, in exact proportionto its vigour, will powerfully struggle against the unnatural thraldomof mere mechanical verbal exercises. The mind in a healthful state willnot be satisfied with words, which are but the medium of ideas, becauseideas alone are the natural food of the mind. Till the powers of themind, therefore, are sufficiently enfeebled by time and perseverance, itwill struggle with its fetters, and it will be repressed only bycoercion. Minds naturally weak, or gradually subdued, may and do submitto this artificial bondage, --this unnatural drudgery; but the vigorousand powerful mind, under favourable circumstances, spurns the trammels, and continues to struggle on. It may be a protracted warfare, --but itmust at last come to a close; and it is not till the pupil has emergedfrom this mental dungeon, and has had these galling fetters fairlyknocked off, that the natural elasticity and strength of his mind findthemselves at freedom, with sufficient room and liberty to act. Theimpetus then received, and the delight in the mental independence thenfelt, have frequently led to the brightest results. Hence it is, thatthe reputed dunce of the school, has not unfrequently become theornament of the senate. Lastly, we would remark, that from the facts here enumerated, we derivea good test by which to try every new exercise proposed for training theyoung, and for cultivating the powers of the mind. If the exerciserecommended compels the child to active thought, --to the voluntaryexercise of his own mind upon useful ideas, --that exercise, whatever beits form, will, to that extent at least, be beneficial. And if, at thesame time, it can be associated with the acquisition of knowledge, withthe application of knowledge, or with the ready communication ofknowledge, --all of which, as we have seen, are concomitants in Nature'sprocess, --it will, in an equal degree, be valuable and worthy ofadoption. But if, on the contrary, the exercise may be performed withoutthe necessity of voluntary thought, or the reiteration of ideas by themind, however plausible or imposing it may appear, it is next tocertain, that although such an exercise may be sufficiently burdensometo the child, and cause much labour and anxiety to the teacher, it willmost assuredly be at least useless, if not injurious. FOOTNOTES: [9] See the Fifth Public Experiment in Education, conducted before SirThomas Kirkpatrick, and the clergy and teachers of Dumfries, in themonth of October 1833. [10] Note K. [11] Note H. [12] For the methods of employing this exercise and the books bestadapted for it, see Note I. CHAP. II. _On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in the Pupil'sAcquisition of Knowledge; with a Review of the Analogy between theMental and Physical Appetites of the Young. _ The second step in the progress of Nature's pupil is the acquisition ofknowledge. --This has always been considered a chief object in everysystem of education; and the discovery of the most efficient means bywhich it may be accomplished, must be a matter of great importance. In our remarks upon this subject in a previous chapter, we have shewn, that Nature in her operations employs four distinct principles foraccumulating knowledge, for retaining it upon the memory, and forkeeping it in readiness for use at the command of the will. There are, _First_, the "reiteration of ideas" by the mind, without which there canbe no knowledge; _Secondly_, the principle of "Individuation, " by whichthe knowledge of objects and truths is acquired one by one; _Thirdly_, the principle of "Grouping, " or Association, in which the mind views asone object, what is really composed of many; and, _Fourthly_, theprinciple of "Analysis, " or Classification, in which the judgment isbrought into exercise, the different portions of our knowledge arearranged and classified under different heads and branches, and thewhole retained in order at the command of the will, when any portion ofit is required. --Our object now is to consider, what means are withinthe reach of the parent and the teacher, by which Nature in theseseveral processes may be successfully imitated, while they endeavour tocommunicate the elements of knowledge to the young. Ideas being the only proper food of the mind, Nature has created in theyoung an extraordinary appetite and desire for their possession. Thereis a striking analogy in this respect, between the strengthening of thebody by food, and the invigorating of the mind by knowledge; and beforeproceeding to detail the methods by which the parent or the teacher maysuccessfully break down and prepare the bread of knowledge for theirpupils in imitation of Nature, it will be of advantage here to considermore particularly some of the circumstances connected with thisinstructive analogy. By tracing the likeness so conspicuously held outto us in this analogy by Nature herself, we shall be greatly assisted inevading the bewildering and mystifying influence of prejudice, and thereader will be much better prepared to judge of the value of those meansrecommended for nourishing and strengthening the mind by knowledge, whenhe finds them to correspond so exactly with similar principles employedby Nature for the nourishing and strengthening of the body by food. Weshall by this means, we hope, be able to detect some of those fallacieswhich have long tended to trammel the exertions, and to prevent thesuccess of the teacher in his interesting labours. The first point of analogy to which we would advert, is the vigour andactivity of the mental appetite in the young, which corresponds sostrikingly with the frequent and urgent craving of their bodily appetitefor food. --The desire of food for the body, and the desire of knowledgefor the mind, are alike restless and insatiable in childhood; and asimilar amount of satisfaction and pleasure is the consequence, wheneverthese desires are prudently gratified. That the desire for knowledge inthe young is often weakened, and sometimes destroyed, is but too true;but this is the work of man, not of Nature. It will accordingly be foundon investigation, with but few exceptions, that wherever the generalappetite of the child, either for mental or bodily food, becomes languidor weak, it is either the effect for disease or of some grievous abuse. Another point of analogy consists, in the necessity of the personalactive co-operation of the child himself in receiving and digesting hisfood. --There is no such thing in Nature as a child being fed andnourished by proxy. His food must be received, digested, and assimilatedby his own powers, and by the use of his own organs, else he will neverbe fed. In the same way, the food for his mind can benefit him only inso far as he himself is the active agent. He must himself receive, reiterate in his own mind, and commit to the keeping of his memory, every idea presented to him by his teacher. No one can do this forhim;--he must do it himself. In a family, the parent may provide, dress, and communicate the food to the child, --but he can do no more; andsimilar is the case with respect to the mental food provided by theteacher. He may no doubt select the most appropriate kinds, --he maysimplify it, --he may break it down into morsels;--but his pupils, ifthey are to learn, must learn for themselves. When a pupil, to savehimself trouble, tries to evade the learning of a preliminary lesson, orwhen the teacher winks at the evasion by performing the exercise forhim, it is as absurd as for a parent to eat the child's food, and expectat the same time that his boy is to be nourished by it. If the mentalfood be too strong for the child, something more simple must be providedfor him; but to continue to administer knowledge which the pupil doesnot comprehend, and force the strong mental food of an adult upon thetender capacities of a child, is an error of the most mischievous kind. It prevents the mind from acting at all, without which there can be noimprovement. The mind must wield its own weapons if ignorance is to bedislodged; and if the child is to advance at all, he must overcome thedifficulties that lie in his way by the exertion of his own powers. Histeacher may no doubt direct him as to the best and the easiest way ofaccomplishing his object; but that is all. The pupil must in every caseperform the exercise for himself. This leads us to notice another point of analogy in this case, which is, the necessity of adapting the food to the age and capacities of thosewho are to receive it. --There is in the mental, as well as in thephysical nourishment provided for our race, milk for the weak, as wellas meat for the strong; and it is necessary in both cases that the kindand the quantity be carefully attended to. In the case of the strong, there is less danger; because, with regard both to the mental and bodilyfood, Nature has so ordered matters, that the food which is best adaptedfor the weak, will also nourish the strong; but the food adapted for thestrong is never suitable, and is often poisonous to the weak. There musttherefore be, in all cases where the young are concerned, as careful aselection of the mental food, as there is of the food for the body; andthe parent or teacher should, in all cases, present only such subjects, and such ideas to his pupils, as the state of their faculties, or theprogress of their knowledge, enables them to understand and apply. Another striking point of analogy between mental and bodily nourishment, is to be found in the effects of repletion, when too great a quantity offood is communicated at one time. --As the increase of a child's bodilystrength does not depend upon the mere quantity of food forced into hisstomach, but upon that portion only which is healthfully digested andassimilated; so in like manner, the amount of a child's knowledge willnot correspond to the number of ideas forced upon his attention by theteacher, but to those only which have been reiterated by the mind, andcommitted by that process to the keeping of the memory. In both cases, the evil of repletion is two-fold; there is the waste of food and oflabour, while the strength and the growth of the child, instead of beingpromoted, are retarded and diminished. The physical appetite gainsstrength, by moderate exercise; but it is palled and weakened by everyinstance of repletion. The desire for food is never for any length oftime at rest, so long as the stomach is kept in proper tone by moderateand frequent feeding; and the quantity of food which a healthy childwill in these circumstances consume, is often surprising. But wheneverthe stomach is gorged, then restlessness, uneasiness, and notunfrequently disease, are the consequences. The digestive powers areweakened, the tone of the stomach is relaxed, and, instead of thehealthful craving for food which should occur at the proper interval, the appetite is destroyed, and food of every kind is nauseated. --Exactlysimilar is the case with the mental appetite. The natural curiosity ofchildren, or, in other words, their desire of information, before it ischecked or overloaded by mismanagement, is almost insatiable; and theastonishing amount of knowledge which they usually acquire between theages of one and three years, while under the guidance of Nature, hasbeen formerly alluded to. But this desire of information, and thiscapacity for receiving it, are by no means confined to that earlyperiod of their lives. The same appetite for knowledge would increaseand acquire additional strength, were it but properly directed, orfurnished with moderate and suitable means of gratification. But when aparent or teacher impatiently attempts to force it upon the child morerapidly than he can receive it, --that is, than he can reiterate it inhis mind for himself, --he not only irritates and harasses the child, buthis attempt neutralizes the effect of the ideas which the child wouldotherwise pleasantly and efficiently have received. Every such attemptto do more than enough greatly weakens the powers of the pupil's mind, and discourages him from any after attempt to increase his knowledge. As a general maxim in the education of the young, it may here beobserved, that as long as the understanding of a child remains clear, and he can distinctly perceive the truths which are communicated to him, he will find himself pleasantly and profitably employed, and will soonacquire a habit of distinct mental vision;--the powers of his mind willbe rapidly expanded and strengthened, and he will receive and retain theknowledge communicated to him with ease and with pleasure. But when, onthe contrary, he is overtasked, and more ideas are forced upon hisattention than his capacity can receive, the mind becomes disturbed andconfused, the mental perception becomes cloudy and indistinct, and allthat is communicated in these circumstances is absolutely lost. If theparent or teacher insists on the pupil persevering in his mental meal, in the hope that things will get better, we can easily, from the presentanalogy, perceive the fallacy of such a hope. Perseverance will onlycreate additional perplexity; the whole powers of the child's mind willbecome more and more enfeebled, or totally prostrated; the labour of theteacher will be lost; and he will find his pupil now, and for some timeafterwards, much less able to take a clear and distinct view of anysubject than he was before. There is yet one other point of analogy between the supply of food forthe body and the mind, to which we must also allude. It is to be foundin the baneful, and often destructive, effects of unnatural stimulantsapplied to the mental appetite, which strikingly correspond in theireffects to the pernicious habit of supplying stimulants to the young intheir ordinary food. --Stimulants will no doubt, in both cases, producefor the time additional excitement;--but they are neither natural nornecessary. In all ordinary cases, Nature has made ample provision forthe supposed want, of which the craving--the natural and healthycraving--of children for knowledge and for food, gives ample testimony. To counteract or to weaken this natural desire would be improper;--butartificially to _increase_ it is always dangerous. The reason isobvious; for the excitement thus caused being unnatural, it is alwaystemporary; but its pernicious effects very soon become extensive andpermanent. Every physician knows, that the habitual use of stimulants inthe food of the young, weakens the tone of the stomach, palls theappetite, creates a disrelish for plain and wholesome food, andfrequently destroys the powers of digestion for ever after. Very similarare the effects of unnatural stimulants to the mental appetite intraining and teaching the young, when these stimulants are habitually, or even frequently administered. Their curiosity, --their appetite forknowledge, --is naturally so vigorous, that the repetition, or thereading of any story, however commonplace or uninteresting to us, givesthem the sincerest pleasure, provided only that they understand and canfollow it. This is a most wise and beneficent provision of Nature, ofwhich parents and teachers should be careful to take advantage. It isbecause of this disposition in children, that in all ordinary cases, thesimplest narrative or anecdote in ordinary life, may be successfullyemployed in giving them mental strength, and in communicating permanentmoral instruction. But whenever unnatural and injudicious excitementsare used in their instruction, and the child's imagination has beenstimulated and defiled by the ideas of giants and ogres, fairies andghosts, the whole natural tone of the mind is destroyed, plain and eveninteresting stories and narratives lose their proper attraction, and adiseased and insatiable appetite for the marvellous and the horrible isgenerally created. Even to adults, and much more to children, whoseminds have been thus abused, the plain paths of probability and truthhave lost every charm; and the study of abstract but useful subjectsbecomes to them a nauseous task--an intolerable burden. The accuracy of this analogy, we think, will readily be admitted by all. And if so, it will at least help to illustrate, if it does not prove, some of the important conclusions to which we shall find ourselves ledupon other, and philosophical grounds. But as the prejudices which, during several centuries, have been gradually congregating around thescience of education are so many and so powerful, every legitimatemeans, and this among others, should be combined for the purpose ofremoving them. CHAP. III. _How Nature may be imitated in Communicating Knowledge to the Pupil, bythe Reiteration of Ideas. _ The phenomenon in mechanics and natural philosophy, which is popularlytermed "Suction, " may be exhibited in a thousand different ways, and yetall are the result of but one cause. When we witness the variousphenomena of the air and common pump, --the barometer and the cuppingglass, --the sipping of our tea, and the traversing of an insect on themirror or the roof, --the operations appear so very dissimilar, that weare ready to attribute them to the action of a variety of agents. But itis not so;--for when we trace each of them back to its primitive cause, we find that each and all of these wonders are produced by the weight ofthe atmosphere, and _that alone_. In precisely the same manner, knowledge may apparently be communicated to the human mind in a thousanddifferent ways; and yet, when we examine each, and trace it to itsprimitive cause, we find the phenomenon to be one--and _one alone_. Thetruth has been received and lodged with the memory, --made part of ourknowledge--by _the reiteration of its idea_ by the mind itself;--by anexercise of active, voluntary thought upon the knowledge thuscommunicated. The cause and the effect invariably follow each other bothin old and young; for whenever a new idea is perceived and reiterated bythe pupil, --if it should be but once, --the knowledge of the child is tothat extent increased; but whenever this act of the mind is awanting, there can be no additional information received;--the increase ofknowledge is found to be impossible. This appears to be a law of ourNature, to which we know of no exception. It is also worthy of remark here, that the retention or permanence ofthe ideas thus committed to the keeping of the memory depends upon twocircumstances. The first is, the vigour of the mental powers, or theintensity of the impression made upon them at the time ofreiteration;--and the second, and certainly the principal circumstance, is the frequency of their reiteration by the mind. In evidence of thefirst we see, that a fall, a fright, or a narrow escape from imminentdanger, although it occurred but once, and perhaps in early infancy, will be remembered through life; and in proof of the second, we find, that the scenes and circumstances of childhood being frequently anddaily reiterated by the mind, at a time when it has little else toreiterate, remain permanently on the memory. The object therefore mostto be desired by the teacher, is an exercise, or a series of exercises, by which, in his attempts to communicate knowledge to his pupil, thisact of reiteration may be secured, and if possible repeated at pleasure, for more permanently fixing on the memory the knowledge communicated. In a former chapter we shewed, that this act of reiteration is theinstrument employed by Nature for cultivating the powers of the mind aswell as for communicating and impressing knowledge;--and we have alsoshewn that Nature in that process was successfully imitated by means ofthe catechetical exercise. This exercise has accordingly been found aspowerful and efficient in promoting this, her second object, as it is inthe first. The success of the catechetical exercise in communicatingknowledge clearly to the young, even when it is but imperfectly managed, has been extensive and uniform; but wherever its nature has beenproperly understood, and it has been scientifically conducted, theamount of knowledge communicated in a given time, and with a givenamount of mental and physical labour, stands confessedly without aparallel in the previous history of education. Minds the most obtuse, habits of listlessness the most inveterate, and mental imbecility, bordering on idiotcy, have been powerfully assailed and overcome; andknowledge, by means of this exercise, has forced its way, and firmlysecured a place for itself, in minds which previously were little morethan a blank. The causes of its success in cultivating the powers of the mind wereformerly explained; but its adaptation to the communicating of knowledgeis still more peculiarly striking. We shall endeavour to point out a fewof these peculiarities. Let us for that purpose suppose a teacher desirous of communicating to achild the important fact, that "God at first made all things of nothingto shew his greatness;" it must be done, either by the child reading orhearing the sentence. If it be read, there is at least a chance, thatthe words may be all decyphered, and audibly pronounced, while the ideascontained in them have not yet reached the mind. The child may havecarefully examined each word as it occurred, and may have reiteratedeach of them on his mind as he read them, and yet there may not be theslightest addition to his knowledge. The reiteration of _words_, as wehave before explained, is not that which Nature requires, but thereiteration of _ideas_; and although we may, by substituting the one forthe other, deceive ourselves, Nature will not be deceived; for unlessthe ideas contained in the sentence be reiterated by the mind, there canbe no additional information conveyed. --The same thing may happen, ifthe words, instead of being read by the child, are announced by theteacher. The pupil may in that case hear the sounds; nay, he may repeatthe words, and thus reiterate _them_ in his mind after the teacher; butif he has not translated the words into their proper ideas as heproceeded, experience proves, that his knowledge remains as limited asbefore;--there has been no additional information. These cases are socommon, and so uniform, that no farther illustration we think needs begiven of them. The desideratum in both these cases is, some exercise by which the childshall be compelled to translate the words into their several ideas; andby reiterating the ideas themselves, not the words which convey them, heshall be enabled at once to commit them to the keeping of the memory, and thus make them part of his knowledge. The catechetical exercisesupplies this want. For if, in either case, after the words have beenread or repeated, the child is asked, "What did God make?" thetranslation of the words into the ideas, if previously neglected, is nowforced upon him, because without this it is impossible for him toprepare the answer. The ideas must be drawn from the words, andreiterated by the mind, independently of the words, before the exercisecan be completed. And not only must the particular idea which answersthe question be extracted, but _the whole_ of the ideas contained in thesentence must be reiterated by the mind, before the selection can bebegun, and the choice made. It is also specially worthy of remark, thateven in such a case as this, where, on the sentence being read or heard, the words alone were at first perceived, yet no sooner does the mindproceed to its legitimate object, the reiteration of the ideas which thewords convey, than the words themselves are instantly lost sight of, andin one sense are never again thought of. As soon as the kernel isextracted, the shell has lost its value. The pupil having once got sightof the ideas, tenaciously keeps hold of _them_, and never once thinksagain of the words, which were merely the instrument employed by Natureto convey them. When the question is asked, and he answers it, theprocess consists in his translating the words of the whole sentence intotheir several ideas, chusing out the idea which answers the questionfrom all the others, and then in clothing that idea in words which arenow entirely his own. In all this there is a long and intricate series of mental exercises, inevery one of which the mind is actively employed, and it is in this, asbefore explained, that the value of this exercise, in cultivating thepowers of the mind, really consists. But our present business is withthe acquisition of knowledge by its means; and we have to observe, thatin each of the mental operations required for the answer of a singlequestion, the ideas contained in the original sentence have repeatedlyto undergo the process of reiteration; by which they are more clearlyperceived, and more permanently fixed on the memory, than they otherwisecould have been. Hence the value of this exercise, even in those caseswhere the original sentence has been at the first fully understood. Thiswill appear obvious by tracing the mental operation of the pupil fromthe beginning, when he has to answer the question. There is first the understanding of the question asked at him. This mustbe heard and reiterated by the mind before its purport can be perceived, and all this before he can commence the proper mental operation upon theoriginal sentence from which his answer is to be selected. He has thento review the words of the original sentence, still sounding in hisears, and to translate them into their several ideas, before he canbegin to select the one required. Then comes the act of selection, having to chuse out from among all the others the special idea requiredas his answer; and lastly, there is the clothing of that idea in wordssuitable for the occasion, and the audibly pronouncing of these words asthe answer required. The rapidity with which the mind passes from onepart of this exercise to another, may prevent these several operationsfrom being perceived, but it is not the less true that they must havetaken place. And hence arises the value of the catechetical exercise, not only in cultivating in an extraordinary degree the mental facultiesof the pupil, but in powerfully forcing information upon the mind, andpermanently fixing it upon the memory for after use. But even this does not exhaust the catalogue of benefits to be derivedfrom the use of the catechetical exercise in communicating knowledge tothe young. We have supposed only one question to have been asked by theteacher upon the original sentence, and yet we have seen that this onequestion has in fact in a great measure secured the understanding of thewhole of the ideas contained in it. But instead of one question, thecatechetical exercise has the power of originating many, each producingsuccessively similar results, but with greater ease to the child, andwith much more effect in rivetting the several ideas upon the memory. The first question, when properly put, gives the pupil the command ofthe whole proposition; but it requires considerable mental effort in thechild to recall the words, and internally to translate the ideas _forthe first time_. But when this has once been done, and a second questionis asked from the same sentence, the ideas being now more familiar, there is less mental labour required in preparing the answer, and therebeing equal success, there is of course more satisfaction. The ideasbecome much more clear and distinct before the mind by a second review;and the effect, in fixing the whole upon the memory, is much morepowerful than it could be by means of the first. When therefore theteacher confines himself to the original sentence, and does not indulgein catechetical wanderings, the questions, "When did God make allthings?" "How many things did God make?" "Of what did God make allthings?" and, "Why did God make all things?" produce extensive andpowerful effects. The pupil finds himself able to master each questionin succession without difficulty, and the answering of each appears tohim a triumph. Whoever has been in the habit of making use of thisexercise in the manner explained above, must have witnessed withpleasure the life, and energy, and delight, which it invariably infusesinto the scholar, giving education a perfectly different aspect fromwhat it usually assumes in the eyes of the young, and making it even inthe estimation of the pupil a formidable rival to his play. In thismanner has Nature set her seal upon this exercise, as a nearapproximation to her own process for attaining the two preparatoryobjects she has in view in the education of the young; that ofcultivating the powers of the mind, and that of communicating to herpupils the elements of knowledge. This exercise has been reduced to a regular system, which has placed itmore directly at the command of all who undertake the instruction of theyoung. By a little attention on the part of parents and teachers, to afew simple rules, they may catechise upon any book, and apply theexercise to any species of knowledge whatever. We shall endeavour toexplain the nature and uses of these rules. For the purposes of this exercise, the school books of the pupil aresupposed to consist of sentences, each of the principal _words_ in whichconveys some specific idea;--these again are combined into _clauses_, which also convey an idea;--and the combination of these clauses in a_sentence_, or _paragraph_, usually forms a complete truth. For example, the sentence, "God at first [made all things] of nothing [to shew hisgreatness, "] contains one great truth; but the sentence which conveysit, embodies at least two _clauses_, inclosed in brackets, while thewhole is made up of _words_, each of which is the sign of an idea whichmay readily be separated from all the others. Now it is evident, thatquestions may be formed by the teacher relative to each of these threeparts. He may ask a question, which shall require the _whole_ truth forthe answer; or one which will be answered by a _clause_; or anotherwhich is answered by a _word_. In "revising, " accordingly, where time is an object, the teacherconfines himself to those general questions which bring out the _wholetruth_ at once, as is exemplified in the Larger and Shorter Catechisms. This is called the "Connecting Exercise, " because it is employed inuniting sections together, which have previously been taught to thepupils separately, but which are necessary to be perceived also inconnection. This, however, would be too limited an exercise for thepurpose of directing the mind to the several parts of a truth for thefirst time; and therefore the teacher in those cases forms his questionschiefly upon the _clauses_ in the sentence, and the other words whichhave some material relation to them, and this is called the "GeneralExercise. " But even this is not enough, where the child is dull, orwhere healthful mental exercise is required; and accordingly in thatcase, the teacher not only questions upon the clauses in connection withthe other principal words, but he takes the _words_, of which theclauses are composed, and catechises the child upon them also. This iscalled the "Verbal Exercise, " which has been found of great value in theteacher's intercourse with his younger classes. Upon these principlesthe Initiatory Catechisms and their Keys have been formed, together withthe several Helps for communicating Scriptural knowledge. The success ofthese school books, although labouring under all the disadvantages ofnew instruments, imperfectly formed to work out new principles, ismainly to be attributed to the close imitation of Nature aimed at in alltheir exercises. The _rule_ for the parent or teacher in mastering these exercises is thesame in all; it consists simply in forming the question in such amanner, as that the word, the clause, or the whole proposition, shall berequired to make the answer. Sufficient explanation and examples of allthis will be found in the Note. [13] The uniform results of many experiments, have established the importanceof this exercise as an instrument in communicating knowledge to theignorant, whether young or old. We shall shortly advert to a few of thecircumstances connected with these experiments, for the purpose ofsatisfactorily establishing this. In an experiment made in May 1828, under the direction of the Very Rev. Dr Baird, Principal of the University of Edinburgh, before the LordProvost, and several of the Professors and Clergymen of that city, nineadult criminals, "taken without regard to their abilities, " and who, inthe opinion of Governor Rose, "formed a fair average of the usualprisoners, " were, in the space of three successive weeks, exercised inwhole for eighteen or twenty hours. They were at the end of that timeminutely examined in the Chapel of the County Jail, in the presence ofthe Right Honourable and Reverend Professors and Gentlemen, who formedPrincipal Baird's committee; and their Report of the experiment and itseffects bears, that "the result of this important experiment was, inevery point, satisfactory. Not only had much religious knowledge beenacquired by the pupils, and that of the most substantial, and certainlythe least evanescent kind; but it appeared to have been acquired withease, and even with satisfaction--a circumstance of material importancein every case, but especially in that of adult prisoners. " "Theexamination evidently brought out only a specimen of their knowledge, and did by no means comprise all that had been acquired by them; but, even though it had constituted the whole amount of their information, the fact that such a treasure had been amassed in three weeks is initself astonishing. The writer of this Minute was not acquainted withthe extent of their acquirements when Mr Gall commenced his operations;but judging from the examination, and from his knowledge of the contentsof the books taught, he has no hesitation in averring, that the answerswhich they gave, arose entirely from information communicated by them. And when he reflects that their answers, being clothed in their ownwords, guaranteed the fact, that it was _the ideas_ upon which they hadseized, and that their knowledge participated in no degree of rote, theconviction to his mind is irresistible, that the universal applicationof the Lesson System to Prison Discipline, and to adults every where, would be followed by effects incalculably precious to the individualsthemselves, and to the improving of society in general. " The efficiency of this exercise in communicating knowledge, was equallyconspicuous in another experiment, conducted under the eye of thePrincipal, Professors, and Clergymen of Aberdeen, in July 1828. Thepersons on whom this experiment was made, were children taken from thelower classes of society, carefully selected on two several days, by acommittee of clergymen appointed for the purpose, from the variousschools in the city. These children were all carefully and individuallyexamined in private by the committee, and were chosen from among theircompanions, not on account of their natural abilities, or educationalacquirements, but specially and simply on account of their ignorance. The precautions taken by the Rev. And learned examinators, to secureaccuracy in their ultimate decision, were at once judicious andcomplete; and were intended to enable them to say with confidence at theclose of the experiment, that the results, whatever they might be, werereally the effects of the exercise and discipline to which the childrenduring it had been subjected, and were in no respect due to the previouscapacity or the attainments of the children. To secure this important preliminary object, therefore, thesub-committee of clergymen above alluded to was appointed, as soon asthe experiment was determined upon, with instructions to collect a classof the most ignorant children they could find, attending the severalschools, and who it was thought would be, of course, most incapacitatedfor receiving instruction. This sub-committee, consisting of the Rev. John Murray, the Rev. Abercromby L. Gordon, and the Rev. David Simpson, in their previous Report, say, "We, on two several days, met with thechildren which were collected from the various schools, and examinedthem individually, and apart from each other; avoiding every appearanceof formality, and endeavouring to draw them into familiar conversation, that we might correctly ascertain the state of their religious knowledgeon the three following points, which we considered to be the bestcriterion by which to judge of their understanding of the other lessimportant points in the gospel scheme of salvation. --These points were, 1. Our connection, as sinners, with Adam; 2. Our connection with Christas the Saviour; 3. The means by which we become interested in thesalvation of Christ. On minutely examining each child on these points, one by one, and endeavouring, by varied and familiar language andcross-questioning, without confusing their ideas, to ascertain theknowledge which they possessed on these first principles, we accurately, and at the time, minuted the result, distinguishing those points whichthey understood, and those which they did not. From this list weafterwards selected twenty-two names, of children who appeared from thelist, to be the most ignorant, by _not having any marks of approval onany one of these points_ on which they were examined;--although delicacyto the children, as well as to their parents and teachers, prevented usfrom stating to them, that this was the principle by which we had beenregulated in our selection. From these twenty-two children, Mr Gall hasmade up his class of ten, for this experiment, which he proposes shallcontinue for eight days, occupying two hours each day; and having thuschosen that class of pupils which appeared to us the most ignorant, wehave, in justice to Mr Gall and this system of teaching, stated thefact, leaving the examinators to make what allowance they may on thisaccount think proper, in determining on the failure or success of thisvery important and interesting experiment. " This was the state of the children's knowledge and capacity when theexperiment began; and the following was found to be the state of thesesame children's knowledge when examined publicly in the East Church, before the Very Rev. Principal, Professors, and Clergymen of the city, and a large congregation of the citizens, eight days afterwards. The children were first interrogated minutely on the doctrines of thegospel, which had been previously arranged in a list under sixteendifferent heads, embodying all the leading doctrinal points in theConfession of Faith and Shorter Catechism, a copy of which was handed tothe Very Rev. Principal Jack, who presided. The Report of theExperiment, prepared by their Committee, goes on to say, that "Afterbeing examined generally and satisfactorily on each of these heads, thechairman, by means of a list of the names with which he was furnished, called up some of them individually, who were carefully examined, andshewed, by their answers, that they severally understood the nature ofthe above doctrines, and their mutual relation to each other. "They were then examined on the Old Testament History, from the accountof the death of Moses, downwards, to that of the revolt of the TenTribes in the reign of Rehoboam. Here they distinctly stated anddescribed all the leading circumstances of the narrative comprised inthe 'First Step, ' whose brief but comprehensive outline they appeared, in various instances, to have filled up at home, by reading in theirBibles the corresponding chapters. They were next examined in the sameway, on several sections of the New Testament, " with which they had alsoacquired an extensive practical knowledge, besides some usefulinformation in Civil History, Biography, and Natural Philosophy, on allwhich they were closely and extensively examined. In another experiment, undertaken at the request, and under thesanction, of the Sunday School Union of London, the efficiency of thisexercise, as a successful imitation of Nature in communicatingknowledge, was also satisfactorily ascertained. We shall at presentadvert only to one feature of it, as being more immediately connectedwith the present branch of our subject, that of communicating knowledgeto the most ignorant and depraved. The Report of this Experiment, drawn up by the Secretaries of thatInstitution, records, that "it had been requested, that, if possible, children should be procured, somewhat resembling the heathen, (orpersons in a savage state, ) whose intellectual and moral attainmentswere bounded only by their knowledge of natural objects, and whosefeelings and obligations were of course regulated principally bycoercion and fear of punishment. " Two gentlemen of the Committee, accordingly, undertook the search, andat last procured from the streets three children, a boy and two girls ofthe ages, so far as could be ascertained, (for they themselves could nottell, ) of seven, nine, and eleven years, whom we shall designate G, H, and I. These children had no knowledge of letters; knew no more than thename of God, and that he was in the skies, but could not tell any thingabout him, or what he had done. They knew not who made the sun, nor theworld, nor themselves. They had no idea of a soul, or that they shouldlive after death. One had a confused idea of the name of Jesus, asconnected with prayers; which, however, she did not understand, but hadnever heard of Adam, Noah, or Abraham. When asked if they knew any thingof Moses, one on them (viz. I, ) instantly recollected the name; but whenexamined, it was found that she only referred to a cant term usuallybestowed upon the old-clothesmen of London. They had no idea of aSaviour; knew nothing of heaven or hell; had never heard of Christ, andknew not whether the name belonged to a man or a woman. The boy, (H, )when strictly interrogated on this point, and asked, whether he indeedknew nothing at all of Jesus Christ, thinking his veracity called inquestion, replied with much earnestness, and in a manner that showed therude state of his mind, "No; upon my soul, I do not!" This class, after eleven days' teaching, conducted in public, and in thepresence of numbers of teachers, during one hour daily, were publiclyexamined in the Poultry Chapel, by a number of clergymen, before theCommittee of the Sunday School Union, and a numerous congregation. TheReport goes on to say, that the children of this class "were examined, minutely and individually, on the great leading doctrines ofChristianity. The enumeration and illustrations of the several doctrineswere given with a simplicity, and in a language, peculiarly their own;which clearly proved the value of that part of the Lesson System whichenjoins the dealing with the ideas, rather than with the words; andwhich shewed, that they had acquired a clear knowledge of the severaltruths. They were also examined on some parts of the Old TestamentHistory, " with which, during that short period, they had been madethoroughly acquainted. These facts of themselves, and they could be enlarged to almost anyextent, clearly prove the power and the value of this exercise incommunicating knowledge to the young. And, as we have seen that itsefficiency consists entirely in its close imitation of the process ofNature in accomplishing the same object, we are the better warranted topress upon the minds of all who are interested in education and the artof teaching, the importance of keeping strictly to Nature, so far as wecan trace her operations; as it is by doing so alone that we are sure ofsuccess. It may no doubt be said, that there are other ways ofcommunicating knowledge to the young, besides the catechetical exercise;and therefore the necessity of adopting it is neither so necessary norso urgent. To this it may be answered, that there have been other plansadopted, in urgent cases, for the nourishment of the body, besides thecommon mode of eating and digesting food; but all such plans areunnatural, and are of course but momentary and inadequate;--this, therefore, would form no argument for depriving children of their food. But even this argument is not parallel; for, although it has been foundthat partial nourishment may be conveyed to the blood otherwise than bythe stomach, it has not yet been ascertained that any idea can enter themind, except by this act of "reiteration. " Unless, therefore, somethingdefinite can be brought forward, which will secure the performance ofthis act, different from the catechetical exercise, or the severalmodifications of it, that exercise ought to be considered as a necessaryagent in every attempt of the teacher to communicate knowledge. But this admission in a philosophical question is much more than is atall necessary for our present purpose. It is in every view of the casesufficient to shew, that knowledge cannot be imparted without voluntaryactive thought upon the ideas communicated, or what we have termed, "reiteration;"--and if this be once admitted, and if it can be shewnthat the catechetical exercise produces this result _more certainly_, and _more powerfully_, than any other mode of instruction yet known, then nothing but prejudice will lead to the neglect of this, or willgive the preference to another. And it is a remarkable fact, that oninvestigation it will be found, that almost every useful exerciseintroduced into schools within the last thirty years, owes itsefficiency to the presence, more or less, of the principles which wehave been explaining, as embodied in the catechetical exercise. [14] FOOTNOTES: [13] Note L. CHAP. IV. _On the Means by which Nature may be imitated in Exercising thePrinciple of Individuation. _ While it appears to be a law of Nature, that there can be noaccumulation of knowledge without the act of reiteration, yet there areother principles which she brings into operation in connection with it, by which the amount of the various branches of knowledge received isgreatly increased, and the knowledge itself more easily comprehended, and more permanently retained upon the memory. The first of these principles, which we have before alluded to anddescribed, is that of "individuation;" that principle by which an infantor child is induced to concentrate the powers of its mind upon a newobject, and that to the exclusion for the time of every other, till ithas become acquainted with it. In a former chapter we found, that as long as a child remains solelyunder the guidance of Nature, it will not allow its attention to bedistracted by different _unknown_ objects at the same time; but wheneverit selects one for examination, it invariably for the time abandons theconsideration of every other. The consequence of this is, that infants, with all their physical and mental imbecility, acquire more realknowledge under the tuition of Nature in one year, than children who aredouble their age usually gain by the imperfect and unnatural exercisesof unreformed schools in three or four. The cause of this is easilydetected, and may be illustrated by the analogy of any one of thesenses. The eye, for example, like the mind, must not only see theobject, but it must look upon it--examine it--before the child caneither become acquainted with it at the time, or remember it afterwards. But if unknown objects are made rapidly to flit past the eye of thechild, so that this cannot be done before there is time to fix theattention upon any of them, the labour of the exhibitor is not onlylost, but the sight of the child is impaired;--the eye itself isinjured, and is less able, for some time afterwards, to look steadilyupon any other object, even when that object is stationary. Such is theinjury and the confusion created in the mind of a child when it ishurried forward from object to object, or from truth to truth, beforethe mind has had leisure to lay hold of them, or to concentrate itspowers upon the ideas they suggest. The labour of the teacher in thatcase is not only lost, and the child harassed and irritated, but thepowers of the mind, instead of being brightened and strengthened, arebewildered and mystified, and must therefore be weakened in acorresponding degree. The method to be adopted therefore for the imitation of Nature in theworking of this principle, will consist in bringing forward, for theconsideration of the child, every new letter, or word, or truth, orobject, _by itself_. When presented separately and alone, there is nodistraction of mind--no confusion of ideas; the child is allowed toconsider it well before learning it, so that he will know something ofits form or its nature, and will remember it again when it is eitherpresented to his notice alone, or when it is grouped with others. Hisidea of the object or truth may be indistinct and faint at first, but itis correct so far as it goes; and the ideas which he retains concerningit, are obviously much more extensive, than if the mind at its firstpresentation had been disturbed or bewildered by the addition ofsomething else. His idea of the object or the truth, after being repeatedly considered, may still be very inadequate, but it will now be distinct; and it is thewant of this precision in the pupil's mind that so frequently deceivesteachers, and confuses and obstructs the future advance of the scholars. When a child hears, or reads a passage, the teacher, who understands ithimself, too often takes it for granted that the child as he proceeds isreiterating the ideas as well as himself, and is of course master of thesubject. But this is not always the case; and wherever the child has notsucceeded in doing so, all that follows in that lesson is usually to thechild the cause of confusion and difficulty. He finds himself at astand; and however far he may in these circumstances be draggedforward, he has not advanced a step, and he must at some futureperiod, --and the sooner the better, --return again to the same point, andproceed anew under serious disadvantages. In almost every stage of a child's education, the neglect of thisprinciple is seriously and painfully felt. It is the cause of acutemental suffering to well affected and zealous pupils; and it is thechief origin of all the heartlessness, and idleness, and apathy, whichare found to pervade and regulate the conduct of those that are lessactive. A careful appliance of this principle of individuation, therefore, is always of importance in education; but it ought never tobe forgotten, that it is more peculiarly valuable and necessary at thecommencement, than at any other period of a child's progress inlearning. We shall advert to a few of the methods by which it may beapplied in ordinary school education, in contrast with some instances inwhich it is neglected. In teaching the alphabet to children, the principle of individuation isindispensable; and its neglect has been productive of serious andpermanent mischief. A child of good capacity, by a proper attention tothis principle, will, with pleasure and ease, learn the names and formsof the letters, with the labour of only a few hours;[15] while, byneglecting the principle, the same child would, after years ofirritation and weariness, be still found ignorant of its alphabet. Theoverlooking of the principle at this period has done an immense deal ofinjury to the cause of education. It has, at the very starting post inthe race of improvement, quenched and destroyed all the real, as well asthe imaginary delights of learning and knowledge. It has given the tyrosuch an erroneous but overwhelming impression of the difficulties andmiseries which he must endure in his future advance, that the disgustthen created has often so interwoven itself with his every feeling, thateducation has during life appeared to him the natural and necessaryenemy to every kind of enjoyment. It used to be common, and the practice may still we believe be foundlingering among some of the lovers of antiquity, to make a childcommence at the letter A, and proceed along the alphabet withoutstopping till he arrived at Z; and this lesson not unfrequently includedboth the alphabets of capitals and small letters. Now the cruelty ofsuch an exercise with a child will at once be apparent, if we shall onlychange its form. If a teacher were to read over to an infant twice a-daya whole page or paragraph _without stopping_ of Cæsar or Cicero inLatin, and demand that on hearing it he shall learn it, we could at oncejudge of the difficulty, and the feelings of a volatile mind chained tothe constant and daily repetition of such a task; and if this exercisewere termed its "education, " we can easily conceive the amount ofaffection that the child would learn to cherish towards it. Now this isreally no exaggerated illustration of the matter in hand, for in bothcases the principle of individuation, so carefully guarded and enforcedby Nature, is equally outraged; and it is only where, by some means orother, a remedy for the evil accidentally occurs, that the result in thecase of the alphabet, is not exactly the same as it would have been inthe case of the classics above supposed. The writer once saw in a Sundayschool, where the children were taught twice each Sabbath, a class inwhich some of the children had attended for upwards of two years, andwere still in their alphabet; and if the same mode had been pursued, there is little doubt that they would have been in it yet. The remedy for this evil is obvious. Instead of confounding the eye andthe mind of the child, by rapidly parading twenty-six, or fifty-fourforms, continuously and without intermission before the pupil, theletters ought to be presented to the child singly, or at most by two ata time; and these two should be rendered familiar, both in name and inform, before another character is introduced. When a few of the moreconspicuous letters have become familiar, another is to be broughtforward, and the child may be made to amuse himself, by picking out froma page of a book, all the letters he has learned, naming them, and ifnecessary describing them to a companion or a sub-monitor as they occur. Or he may be set down by himself, with a waste leaf from an old book, orpamphlet, or newspaper, to prick with a pin the new letter or letterslast taught him; or, as an introduction to his writing, he may be madeto score them gently with ink from a fine tipped pen. In theseexercises, and all others which are in their nature similar, theprinciple of individuation is acknowledged and acted upon; and thereforeit is, that a child will, by their means, acquire an acquaintance withthe letters in an exceedingly short time, and, which is of still greaterimportance, without irritation or trouble. These methods may sometimesbe rendered yet more effective, by the teacher applying the catecheticalexercise to this comparatively dry and rather forbidding part of achild's education. It proceeds upon the principle of describing eachletter, and attaching its name to the description, such as "round o, ""spectacle g, " "top dotted i, " &c. As in the "Classified Alphabet. " Theteacher has thus an opportunity of exercising the child's imagination, as well as its memory, and making a monotonous, and comparativelyunintellectual exercise, one of considerable variety and amusement. In teaching the alphabet to adults, whose minds are capable ofappreciating and applying the principle of analysis, the "ClassifiedAlphabet" should invariably be used. By this means their memory, inendeavouring to recall the form and name of any particular letter, instead of having to search through the whole _twenty-six_, has never tothink of more than the four or five which compose its class, --acircumstance which makes the alphabet much more easily acquired by theadult than by a child. But even here, the principle of individuationmust not be lost sight of; each letter in the class must be separatelylearned, and each class must be familiar, before another is taught. The principle of individuation continues to be equally necessary inteaching children to combine the letters in the formation of words; andwhen it is attended to, and when the only real use of letters, as themere symbols of sound, is understood by the pupil, a smart child may betaught to read in a few minutes. This is not a theory, but afact, --evidenced in the experience of many, and in the presence ofthousands. Nor is it necessary that the words which are taught, shouldconsist only of two or three letters; if the word be familiar to thechild in speech, it becomes instantly known, when divided and taught inparts or syllables; and when once it is learned by the sounds of theletters, though these sounds merely approximate to the pronunciation ofthe word, it is sufficient to give a _hint_ of what the word is, andwhen once it is known, it will not likely be again forgotten. By thismeans, the child is never puzzled except by entirely new words; and byknowing the use of the letters in their sounds, he receives a key bywhich at least to _guess_ at them, which the sense of the subjectgreatly assists; so that one day, or even one hour, is sometimes, and wehave no doubt will soon be generally, sufficient to overcome thehitherto forbidding and harassing drudgery of learning to read. In teaching children their first lessons, it is of great importance thatthe main design of reading should be clearly understood, and attendedto. As writing, philosophically considered, is nothing more than anartificial substitute for speaking, so reading is nothing more than anartificial substitute for hearing, and is subject to all the laws whichregulate that act. Now one of the chief laws impressed by Nature on theact of _hearing_ the speech of others, is the very remarkable oneformerly alluded to, namely, the exclusive occupation of the mind withthe _ideas_ communicated, to the entire exclusion of the _words_, whichare merely the means by which the ideas are conveyed. The words are nodoubt heard, but they are never thought of;--for if they were, the mindwould instantly become distracted, and the ideas would be lost. This lawequally applies to the act of _reading_; and every one feels, thatperfection in this art is never attained, till the mind is exclusivelyoccupied with the ideas in the book, and never in any case with thewords which convey them. But in learning to read, the difficulty ofdecyphering the words, tends to interfere with this law, and this mustbe guarded against. The remedy simply is, to allow the child time toovercome this first difficulty, by repeatedly, if necessary, reading thesentence till he can read it perfectly; and then, before leaving it, todiscipline the mind to the perception of the ideas it contains, now thatthe child can read it well. The catechetical exercise, as in the "First Class Book on the LessonSystem, " will almost always accomplish the object here pointed out; andthe value of the exercise it recommends will be best understood andappreciated, by observing the evils which invariably follow its neglect. For if the child be allowed to read on and on, while the difficulty ofdecyphering the words in the book remains, the ideas will be leftbehind, the attention will be fatigued, and at last exhausted. The childwill continue to read without understanding; and the habit thus acquiredof reading the words, without perceiving the ideas at all, will soon beestablished and confirmed. Custom has robbed this relict of a former ageof much of its repulsiveness; but it is not the less hurtful on thataccount. Were we to run a parallel with it in any other matter, its truenature and deformity would at once appear. For example, were we tosuppose ourselves listening to an imperative message from a superior, bya messenger with whose language we were but partially acquainted, wewould not allow him to proceed with his communication from beginning toend, while the very first sentence he uttered, had not been understood, and the mind was unprepared for that which was to follow. We would stophim at the close of the very first sentence, and would master themeaning of that, before we would advance with him another step; and thenwe would make him proceed at such a pace as we could keep up with him. If he left us again behind, there would be but one remedy. He mustreturn and repeat the sentence where he left us, till we hadcomprehended his master's meaning; and if he refused to do this, hecould not conscientiously say to him on his return, that he haddelivered his message. By following this plan, and adopting this branchof the natural principle of individuation in such a case, two benefitswould arise. We would first become perfectly acquainted with the willand message of our superior; and next, we would, at the close of theexercise, be so much more familiar with the language in which it wasdelivered, as that it would require less effort on a future occasion, tocomprehend the meaning of the same speaker. If this method had not beenadopted, and the message had been given entire and without a pause, itmight have been rehearsed in our hearing a hundred times, but themeaning would neither have been mastered, nor would our knowledge of thelanguage have been in the least improved. The application of this principle of individuation in the early stagesof a child's learning to read, suggests the propriety also of makingsome preparation for his reading every new lesson in succession. We haveseen that it is chiefly the new words in a lesson that createdifficulty, and prevent the operation of that important law in Naturewhich induces the mind at once to lay hold of the ideas. To obviate thisdistraction of mind therefore beforehand, the new words which _are tooccur_ in the lesson should be selected, and made familiar to the childpreviously, and by themselves;--he should be taught to read them easilyby the combination of their letters, and clearly to understand theirmeaning, in precisely the same shade in which they are used in thelesson he is to read. When this is done, the lesson will be read withease and with profit;--while, without this, the difficulty will be muchgreater, if not beyond his powers. In accordance with this plan, the"First Class Book, " before referred to, has been constructed, and itsefficiency on that account is greatly increased. The neglect of this special application of the principle has been longand painfully felt in society, and most of all where the young have beensent earliest to school. The habit of reading the words withoutunderstanding the meaning of what they read, having once been acquired, the weak powers of children are not sufficient to overcome thedifficulties with which this habit has surrounded them. They feelthemselves burdened and harassed with unnatural and unmeaning exercisesfor years, before they can acquire the art of reading the words of thesimplest school book; and, what is still worse, after they have left theschool, and have entered upon the busy scenes of life, they find, thatthey have now to teach themselves an entirely new art, --the art of_understanding by reading_. Instead of all this waste of energy, andpatience, and time, experience has fully proved, that by following theplain and easy dictates of Nature, as above explained, all the drudgeryof learning to read may be got over in a week, --it has been timeswithout number accomplished in a single day, [16]--and this without anyharassing exertion, and generally with delight. Of the truth of this, afew out of many instances may here be enumerated. In the summer of 1831, the writer one morning found himself, by mereaccident, and a perfect stranger, in a Sunday school in the borough ofSouthwark, London. He attached himself first to a class of children, some of whom he found on enquiry had been two years at the school, andwere yet only learning the alphabet. In the same school, and on the samemorning, a young man who only knew his letters, but had never yetattempted to put them together, was classified with the infants, whom hehad willingly joined in his anxiety to learn. He had a lesson byhimself. By a rigid adherence to the above principle of individuation, this young man, to his own great astonishment, was able in a few minutesto read a verse. The lesson went on, and in somewhat less than half anhour he had mastered several verses, and now knew perfectly how to makeuse of the letters in decyphering the several words. By that one lessonhe found himself quite able to teach himself. In proof of this, as wasafterwards ascertained, he read that same day on going home, withouthelp, nineteen verses of the same chapter; and these verses, onreturning to school on the same afternoon, he read correctly and withouthesitation, to his usual and astonished teacher. There can be no doubt, from this circumstance, that if it had been at all necessary, he could, without further aid, and with still greater ease, have read a secondnineteen verses, and perfected himself by practice in this important, and supposed difficult art of reading, by this one lesson of less thanhalf an hour. In a later experiment, made in Dumfries, in the presence and under thesanction of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick, and the clergymen and teachers ofthat town, the power of this principle was put to a severe trial, in avery unexpected and extraordinary manner. The week-day teachers of thattown having heard of some of the above circumstances, and of the powersof the Lesson System generally, in enabling children to read with butlittle trouble, were desirous of having its powers tested in that town, where the writer happened to be for a few days. He agreed; and SirThomas Kirkpatrick, the Sheriff of the county, with the clergymen andteachers, at his request, formed themselves into a committee for thepurposes of the investigation. A sub-committee of the week-day teacherswere appointed to procure a boy to be taught, which they did, and who, on being closely examined at a preliminary public meeting of the wholeexaminators, was found totally ignorant of words, and knew not oneletter from another, with the exception, of "the round o. " With this boy the writer retired, having agreed to call them againtogether at a public meeting, as soon as he was ready. This at the timehe did not doubt would have been on the very next day;--but he wasdisappointed. He had not been five minutes with his pupil, till hefound, to his great mortification, that he had little or no intellect towork upon. The boy was twelve years of age, and yet he was perfectlyignorant of all the days of the week, except one, the market day, onwhich he was in the practice of making a few pence by holding thefarmers' horses. He could in no case tell what day of the week wentbefore or followed another. He could count numbers forward mechanicallytill among the teens; but by no effort of mind could he tell what numbercame before nine, till he had again counted forward from one. The mostobvious deduction from the simplest idea appeared to be quite beyond thegrasp of his mind. For example, though repeatedly told that John wasZebedee's son, yet, after frequent trials, he could never make out, norcomprehend who was John's father. Yet this boy, --one certainly among thelowest in the grade of intellect of our species, --by a rigid applicationof the principle of individuation, was enabled to overcome a great partof the drudgery of learning to read, by exactly eight hours' teaching. This boy, who at the preliminary meeting on Wednesday, knew only "theround o, " read correctly in the Court-House on the following Monday, asection of the New Testament, to the Rev. Dr Duncan, minister ofRuthwell, before the Sheriff, clergymen, teachers, and a large assemblyof the inhabitants of Dumfries. To ascertain that he had in that timereally _learned to read_, and that he did not repeat the words of thesection by rote, he was made to read before the audience, in a chapterof the Old Testament, and then from a newspaper, the same words that hehad read in his lesson. This he did readily, and without a mistake. FOOTNOTES: [14] For some practical information and directions connected with thesubjects in this chapter, see Note M. [15] Note N. [16] Note H. CHAP. V. _On the Means by which Nature may be imitated in Applying the Principleof Grouping, or Association. _ The principle of Grouping, or Association, as employed by Nature in hereducational process, is obviously intended to enable the pupil easily toreceive knowledge, and to assist the memory in retaining and keeping itever after at the command of the will. It is employed to unite manyobjects or truths into one aggregate mass, which is received asone, --having the component parts so linked, or associated together, thatwhen any one part is afterwards brought before the mind, it has thepower of immediately conjuring up, and holding in review, all theothers. For example, when a child enters a room in which its parents andrelations are severally employed, the whole scene is at a single glancecomprehended and understood, and will afterwards be distinctlyremembered in all its parts. The elements of the scene are no doubt allfamiliar, but the particular grouping of these elements are _entirelynew_, and form an addition to his knowledge, as we formerly explained, as substantial, and as distinct, as the grouping of any other kind ofobjects or circumstances could possibly do. Here then is a certainamount of knowledge acquired by the child, which could be recorded inwriting, or which might be communicated by words; but which, by theoperation of this principle of grouping, has been acquired with greaterease, and in much less time, than he could either have read it, ordescribed it. It has been done in this instance by Nature bringing the_ideas_ suggested by the group directly before the mind of the child, without even the intervention of words; and we see by this example, howmuch more laborious it would have been to communicate the very sameamount of knowledge to the pupil, by making him _read_ the descriptionof it, and how utterly preposterous and unnatural it would be to compelhim, for the same purpose, to commit the words of that description tomemory. The words are merely an artificial contrivance for the conveyingof ideas;--and the more they can be kept out of view, it will be betterfor the teacher, and more natural and easy for the child. In communicating knowledge, therefore, to the young, the more directlyand simply the ideas to be communicated are presented to the mind thebetter. They must usually be communicated by words; but these, as themere instruments of conveyance, should be kept as much as possible outof view. To bring them at all under the notice of the child is a defect;but to make them the chief object of learning, or to make the pupilcommit them to memory, is not only laborious and unnecessary, but isunnatural and hurtful. In all this we ought simply to take our lessons from Nature, if we wishto succeed in conveying knowledge by the combination of simple objects. In the above example, we have seen that a single glance was sufficientto give the infant a distinct idea of the whole scene; and the reasonis, that the principle of individuation had previously done its work. Each of the elements of which the scene was composed, had undergone anindividual and separate examination, and therefore each was familiar. This is Nature's method of communicating knowledge to the young; and itis obvious, that a different arrangement of the objects or actions wouldhave made no difference in the effects produced by the operation of theprinciple. Whatever the circumstances might have been, the new scene, with all its variety of incidents, persons, and things, which it wouldtake ten-fold more time to enumerate than to learn, would at once beimpressed on the mind, and delivered over to the keeping of the memory, without labour, or any perceptible effort. The whole grouping forms achain of circumstances, any one link in which, when afterwards laid holdof by the mind, brings up all the others in connection with it. Thememory by this means is relieved from the burden of remembering all theindividualities, and the innumerable details of the scene, bymaintaining a comprehensive hold of the whole united group, as oneundivided object for remembrance. From this it appears evident, that this principle is intended to succeedthat of individuation, and never to precede it. Objects and truths whichform the elements of knowledge must be individually familiar, beforethey can be successfully grouped, or associated together in masses, inthe way in which the several parts of the knowledge of the young areusually presented; but after these objects or truths have once becomeknown, they may be permanently associated together in any variety ofform without fatigue, and be retained on the memory for use withoutconfusion or distraction of any kind. In our investigations into the nature and working of this principle, asdetailed in a former chapter, we found several causes which gave riseto certain uniform effects, which, for the purpose of imitation oravoidance, may be classed under the following heads:--We found, 1. That wherever the principle of grouping acted with effect, it hadalways been preceded by the principle of individuation. 2. That wherever the principle of individuation was made to interfere, the effect intended by the principle of association was in the samedegree obstructed or destroyed. 3. That whenever ideas or objects, whether known or unknown, werepresented to a child in greater number than the mind could receive orreiterate them, it silently dropped the surplus;--but if these were_forced_ upon the mind, all the mischiefs arising from the interferenceof the two hostile principles immediately took place. 4. That children, in grouping under the tuition of Nature, received andretained the impressions of objects presented to their notice, in anatural and regular order;--forming in their minds a continuous movingscene, where motion formed a part of it; and that this movement of theobjects, actually was a portion of the grouping. These being the facts connected with this portion of Nature'seducational process, the object of the teacher should be to endeavour toimitate her in all these circumstances; carefully avoiding what she hasshewn to be inoperative and hurtful, and copying as closely as possibleall those that tend to forward the objects of instruction. The first thing then to be attended to by the teacher, is, that in everyattempt to communicate knowledge to a child by the grouping of objects, he takes care that the principle of individuation has preceded it;--thatis, that the various ideas or objects to be grouped, be individuallyfamiliar to the pupil. In communicating a story, therefore, or ananecdote, or in teaching a child to read, care must be taken that theobjects or individual truths, the words, or the letters, be previouslytaught by themselves, before he be called upon to group them in masses, whether greater or smaller. If this be neglected, an important law ofNature is violated, and the lesson to this extent will be ineffective, or worse. But if, on the contrary, this rule be attended to, the pupil, when he comes to these objects in the act of grouping, is prepared forthe process; he meets with nothing that he is not familiar with; he hasnothing to learn, and has only to allow the objects to take their properplaces, as when he looked into the room, and grouped its contents asbefore supposed. All this being perfectly natural, is accomplishedwithout effort, and with ease and pleasure. --This precaution on the partof the teacher, will at once remove many of the difficulties andembarrassments which have hitherto pressed so heavily upon the pupil inalmost every stage of his advance, but more especially in the earlystages of his learning to read. [17] As an illustration of our meaning, we may notice here, that a child whoknows what is meant by "sheep, " and "the keeping of sheep, " of "tillingthe ground, " and "making an offering to God, " &c. Is prepared to hear orto read an abridgement of the story of Cain and Abel. We say _anabridgement_ or _first step_, for reasons which shall afterwards beexplained. Without a previous knowledge of these several elements ofwhich this story is compounded, he could neither have listened to itwith pleasure, nor read it with any degree of profit; but as soon asthese are individually familiar, the grouping, --the knowledge of thewhole story, --is a matter of ease, and generally of delight. As thestory advances, it causes a constant and regular series of groupings onthe mind by the imagination, which are at once exquisitely pleasing andpermanent. The child, as in a living and moving picture, imagines a manlaboriously digging the ground, and another man in a distant fieldplacidly engaged in attending to the wants and the safety of a flock ofsheep. He imagines the former heaping an altar with fruits and withoutfire; and the latter killing a lamb, laying its parts on an altar, whilea stream of fire descends from the skies and consumes it. Hisimagination goes on with increasing interest to picture thequarrel-scene in the field; and he in effect sees the blow given by theclub of Cain, that destroyed the life of his brother. All this livingand moving scene will be remembered in groups; and these groups will bemore or less closely linked together, and will be imagined more or lessdistinctly as a whole, in proportion to the mental advancement of theparticular child. The next thing to be attended to in communicating knowledge to a childby grouping, is, that no strange for unknown object or idea beintroduced among those which he is called upon to group; because in thatcase, the operation will be materially interfered with, and eithermarred or destroyed. The completeness of this operation in the hands ofNature, depends in a great measure, as we have seen, upon the perfectcomposure and self-possession of the mind during the process. If therebe no interruption, --no element of distraction introduced into theexercise, --all the circumstances, as they arise in the gradualdevelopement of the story, are comprehended and grouped. The living andmoving picture is permanently fixed upon the memory, so that it may berecalled and reviewed at any future time. But if, on the contrary, theplacidity of the mind be interrupted, --if some strange and unknownobject be introduced, whose agency is really necessary for connectingthe several parts of the story, --the very attempt of the child tobecome individually acquainted with it, throws the whole process intoconfusion; and he has either to drop the contemplation of this necessarypart of the machinery, or to lose the benefit of all that is detailedduring the time he is engaged with it. In either case the end is notgained; and the great design aimed at by the teacher, --the communicationof the knowledge connected with the narrative, --is more or lessfrustrated. Like the landscape pictured on the placid bosom of the lake, the formation and contemplation of his own undisturbed imaginings aredelightful to the child; but the introduction of an unknown object, likethe dropping of a stone in the former case, produces confusion anddistortion, which are always unpleasant and painful. One general reason why the introduction of unknown objects into thesegroupings of the child is so pernicious, may also be here adverted to. It arises from the circumstance, that no person, whether young or old, can form, even in his imagination, the idea of an entirely new thing. This is commonly illustrated by the well known fact, that it isimpossible to conceive of a new sense;--but it is equally applicable tothe conception of a new object. Adults can no doubt conceive and pictureon their imaginations, objects and scenes which they never saw;--butthis mental act is not the imagining of an entirely new thing. All suchscenes or things are compounded of objects, or parts of objects, whichthey have seen, and with which they are familiar. They can readilypicture to themselves a centaur or a cerberus, a mermaid or adragon, --creatures which have no existence, and which never did exist;but a little reflection will shew, that nothing which the mind conceivesof these supposed animals is really new, but is merely a new combinationof elements, or parts of other animals, already familiar. Childrenaccordingly can easily conceive the idea of a giant or a dwarf, a womanwithout a head, or a man with two, because the elements of which theseanomalies are compounded are individually familiar to them;--but werethey told of a person sitting in a howdah, or being conveyed in apalanquin, without having these objects previously explained ordescribed to them, the mind would either be drawn from the story to findout what these meant, and thus they would lose it; or they would, on thespur of the moment, substitute in their minds something else whichperhaps had no likeness to them, and which would lead them into seriouserror. For example, they might suppose that the one was a house, and theother a ship;--a supposition which would distort the whole narrative, and would render many of its parts inconsistent and incomprehensible. As adults then, in every similar case, are under the necessity ofdrawing materials from their general knowledge, for the purpose ofcompounding all such unknown objects, it must be much more difficult fora child to do this, not only because of his want of ability, but hiswant of materials. The remedy therefore in this case is, to explain anddescribe the objects that are to be grouped, before the pupil be calledupon to do so. And when the object has not been seen by the child, andcannot be exhibited by a picture, or otherwise, the teacher must exerthis ingenuity in enabling him to form an idea of the thing that isunknown, by a combination of parts of objects which are. Thus a tigermay be described as resembling a large cat; a wolf, a fox, or even alion, as resembling certain kinds of dogs; a howdah as a smaller sofa, and a palanquin, as a light crib. In all these cases, it is worthy ofnotice, that a mere difference of size never creates confusion;--simplybecause, by a natural law in optics, such differences are of constantoccurrence in the experience both of children and adults. A water neutwill convey a sufficiently correct idea of a crocodile; and the pictureof an elephant, only one inch square, will create no difficulty, if thecorrect height be given. When these rules have been attended to, it willbe found, that this principle in Nature has been successfully imitated;and the pupil, by the previous process of individuation, will beperfectly prepared for the delightful task of grouping the objects whichhe now knows. When he comes to these objects in the narrative, heconceives the idea of them accurately, and he groups them withouteffort. There is no hesitation, and no confusion in his ideas. Thepainting formed upon the mind is correct; the whole picture is unitedinto one connected scene, and is permanently imprinted on the memory forfuture use. Another circumstance connected with this principle of grouping inchildren, we found to be, that when, at any time a greater number ofobjects were presented to the mind than it was able to reiterate andgroup, it silently dropt the surplus, and grouped those only which camewithin the reach of its powers; but if in any instance an attempt wasmade to _force_ the child to receive and reiterate the ideas of objectsbeyond a certain point, the mind got confused, and its powersweakened. --The imitation of Nature in this point is also of greatimportance in education, particularly in teaching and exercisingchildren in reading. To perceive this more clearly, it will be necessaryto make a few remarks on the nature of the art of reading. Reading is nothing more than a mechanical invention, imitative of theact of hearing; as writing is a mechanical mode of indicating sounds, and thus becomes a substitute for the art of speaking, and conveyingideas. But there is this material difference between reading andhearing, that in hearing the person giving attention is in a greatmeasure passive, and may, or may not attend as he pleases. He mayreceive part of what is said, and, as prompted by Nature, he maysilently drop all that he cannot easily reiterate. But in the act ofreading, the person has both the active and the passive operations toperform. His mind, while he reads, must be actively engaged indecyphering the words of his book, and the ideas are, or should be, bythis act, forced upon the observation of the mind at the same time. Aslong, therefore, as the child is required to read nothing except thatwhich he understands, and to read no more, and no faster, than his mindcan without distraction receive and reiterate the ideas which he reads, the act of grouping will be performed with ease, and with evidentdelight, and the powers of the mind will be healthfully and extensivelyexercised and strengthened:--But if this simple principle of Nature beviolated, the exercise becomes irritating to the child, and mostpernicious in its consequences. The neglect of this application of theprinciple is so common in education, that it usually escapesobservation; but on this very account it demands from us here a morethorough investigation. We say then, that this principle is violated when a child is required toread that which it does not, and perhaps cannot understand; and alsowhen he is required to read more, or to read faster, than he is able toreiterate the ideas in his own mind. On each of these cases we shall saya few words, for the purpose of warning and directing the teacher inapplying this important principle in education. Let us then suppose a child set to read a section which he does not, andwhich there is every probability he cannot understand, and then let uscarefully mark the consequences. The child in such a case reads thewords in his book, which ought to convey to his mind the ideas which thewords contain. This is the sole purpose of either hearing or reading. But this is not accomplished. The words are read, and the ideas are notperceived; but the child is required to read on. He does so; and ofcourse when the first part of the subject or sentence has been beyondhis reach, the second, which most probably hangs upon it, must be muchmore so. In this therefore he also fails; but he is still required toread on. Here is a practice begun, which at once defeats the veryintention of reading, and allows the child's mind to roam upon any thingor every thing, while the eye is mechanically engaged with his book. Thehabit is soon formed. The child reads; but his attention is gone. Hedoes not, and at length he cannot, understand by reading. This habit, aswe formerly explained, when it is once formed, it requires great effortson the part of the child to overcome. Most people when they are activelyengaged in life, do at last overcome it; while thousands, who havenominally been taught to read, never can surmount the difficulties itinvolves. Many on this account, and for want of practising an art whichthey cannot profitably use, lose the art altogether. But again, let us suppose a child set to read that which he mayunderstand, but which he is required to read more rapidly than allowshim to perceive and to reiterate the ideas while reading, and let usmark what are the necessary consequences in such a case. The child iscalled on to read a sentence, and he does so. He understands it too. Butthe art of reading is not yet familiar, and he has to bend part of hisattention to the decyphering of the words, as well as to the perceptionand reiteration of the ideas. This requires more time in a child to whomreading is not yet familiar, than to a child more advanced. But give hima little time, and the matter is accomplished the ideas have beenreceived, and they will be reiterated, grouped, and committed to thekeeping of the memory, --and then they will form part of his knowledge. But if this time be not given, --if the child, while engaged incollecting the ideas from the words of one sentence, be urged forward tothe reading of another, the mental confusion formerly describedinstantly takes place. More ideas are forced upon the mind than it canreiterate; no group can be formed, because the elements of which itought to be composed, have not yet been perceived; the imagination getsbewildered;--the mind is unnaturally burdened;--its faculties areoverstretched;--the child is discouraged and irritated; the powers ofhis mind fatigued and weakened; and the whole object of the teacher isat once defeated, and rendered worse than useless. --In every case, therefore, when the child is called on to read, sufficient time shouldbe given;--the teacher taking care that the main design of reading, thatof collecting and grouping ideas, be always accomplished; and that thepupil reads no more at one time than he can thoroughly understand andretain. There is yet another circumstance connected with this process ofgrouping, which ought not to be overlooked. It refers to the order inwhich the objects to be grouped by the child are presented to hisnotice. A child under the guidance of Nature, receives and retains itsimpressions of objects in a natural and simple order. When it witnessesa scene, the group of objects, or actions formed and pictured on themind by the imagination, is exactly as they were seen, the onecircumstance following the other in natural and regular order. Intelling a story therefore to a child, and more especially in composinglessons for them to read, this part of Nature's plan should be carefullystudied and acted upon. The elements of which the several groupings arecomposed, or the circumstances in the narrative to be related, should bepresented in the order in which the eye would catch them in Nature, orthe order in which they occurred, that there may be no unnecessaryretrogression of the mind, no confounding of ideas, no fear of losingthe links that connect and bind together the minor groupings of thestory. In the history of Cain and Abel, for example, the child is not tobe required to paint upon his imagination, a deadly struggle between twopersons of whom as yet he knows nothing; and then, retiring backwardsin the story, be made acquainted with the circumstances connected withtheir several offerings to God; and last of all, their parentage, theiroccupations, and their characters. The minds of the young andinexperienced would be perplexed and bewildered by such a plan ofproceeding; and the irregularity would most probably be the cause oftheir losing the whole story. The opposite of this plan is no doubtfrequently adopted in works of fiction prepared for adults, and for thesake of effect; but every one must see that it is unnecessary in simplehistory, and is not at all adapted for the instruction of the young. When Nature's method is adopted, the child collects and groups theincidents as he proceeds, and paints, without effort, the whole livingand moving scene on his imagination, as if he himself had stood by, andbeen an eye-witness of the original events. The ascertained benefits of these modes of imitating Nature, areliterally innumerable; and it is happily within the power of everyparent or teacher, in a single hour, to test them for himself. We shallmerely advert to one or two instances which occurred in the recordedexperiments, where their effects, in combination with the otherprinciples, were conspicuous. In the experiment upon the prisoners in the County Jail of Edinburgh, the acquisition of their knowledge of Old Testament History, instead ofbeing a burden, was to them a source of unmingled gratification. Therewere painted upon their minds the leading incidents in the history ofthe patriarchs, not only in groups, but their judgments being ripened, they were able to perceive them in regular connection. These pictures, then so pleasantly impressed on their imaginations, are likely to remainwith them through the whole of their lives. The Report says, that "theywere examined on their knowledge of the Book of Genesis, " and "gave adistinct account of its prominent facts from Adam down to thesettlement in Goshen, and shewed by their answers that thesecircumstances were understood by them in their proper nature andbearings. " By the same means, but in less time, and to a greater extent, the sameobject was attained with the children in Aberdeen, who, though chosenfrom the schools specially on account of their want of knowledge, were, by only a few hours teaching, enabled, besides many other subjects ofknowledge, to receive and retain on their minds the great leadingcircumstances that occurred from "the death of Moses downwards, to thatof the revolt of the ten tribes in the reign of Rehoboam. " In the experiment in London also, a large portion of Old Testamenthistory, with much other knowledge, was acquired in a few hours by a boyof about nine years of age, who, previously to the commencement of theexperiment, knew no more of God than the name;--who had no idea of asoul, or that he should live after death;--who "had never heard of Adam, Noah, or Abraham;"--"had no idea of a Saviour; knew nothing of heaven orhell; had never heard of Christ, and knew not whether the name belongedto a man or a woman. " Yet this boy, in an exceedingly short time, couldgive an account of many groupings in the Old Testament history. We shall only remark, in conclusion, that if, by the proper applicationof this principle, so much knowledge may be acquired by rude andignorant children, not only without effort, but in the enjoyment ofgreat satisfaction; what may not be expected in ordinary circumstances, when the pupils are regularly trained and prepared for the purpose, andwhen all the principles employed by Nature in this great work, are madeto unite their aids, and to work in harmony together for producing anenlightened and virtuous population? This may most assuredly be gainedin an exceedingly short period of time, by a close and perseveringimitation of Nature in these educational processes. FOOTNOTES: [17] Note O. CHAP. VI. _On the Methods by which Nature may be imitated in CommunicatingKnowledge by Classification, or Analysis. _ In a former chapter we had occasion to notice a fourth principle broughtinto operation by Nature in the acquisition of knowledge, which is theprinciple of Classification, or Analysis; and we shall now enquire howthis principle may be successfully imitated by the teacher for thefurtherance of his art. There are two forms, which in a former chapter we endeavoured to traceout and explain, in which this principle of Analysis appears in theeducational process of Nature. We shall here again very shortly advertto them, beginning with that which in education is perhaps the mostimportant, but which hitherto has certainly been least attendedto, --that of teaching connected truths by progressive steps. When we read a connected section of history for the first time, and thenexamine the state of our knowledge respecting it, we find that we haveretained some of the ideas or truths which we read, but that we havelost more. When that portion which we have retained is carefullyexamined, we find that it consists chiefly of the more prominentfeatures of the narrative, with perhaps here and there occasionalgroupings of isolated circumstances. We have, in fact, retained upon thememory, little more than the general outline, --the great frame-work ofthe history. There will be the beginning, the middle, and the end, containing perhaps few of the minor details, but what is retained is allin regular order, bound together as a continuous narrative, and, however meagre, the whole forms in the imagination of the reader, adistinct and connected whole. There is perhaps no more of the intendedfabric of the history erected in the mind than the mere skeleton of thebuilding; but this frame-work, however defective in the details, iscomplete both as to shape and size, and is a correct model of thefinished building from top to bottom. This is the state of everyadvanced pupil's mind, after he has for the first time closed thereading of any portion of history or biography. If the narrative itselfhas been correct, this general outline, --this great frame-work of thehistory, --remains on his mind through life, without any materialalteration. Additional information afterwards will assist in filling upthe empty spaces left between the more massive materials, but it willneither shake, nor shift them; and even the most minute details ofindividual or family incidents, connected with the general narrative, while they add additional interest, and fill up or ornament differentand separate parts, will never alter the general form of the fabric, nordisplace any of the main pillars upon which it is supported. This is one way of illustrating this analytical process of Nature; butfor the purposes of imitating it in education it is not perhaps thebest. The idea of a regular analytical table of the history, formed ofsuccessive branches, by successive readings, is by far the most naturaland applicable. By a first reading of a portion of history, there arecertain great leading points established in the mind of the reader, which form the first branches of a regular analysis, and to some one orother of which parts or divisions every circumstance of a more minutekind connected with the history, will be found to be related. This firstgreat division of the history attained by the first reading, if correct, will, and must, remain the same, whatever addition may afterwards bemade to it. By a second reading, our knowledge of the leading pointswill greatly assist us in collecting and remembering many of the moreminute circumstances embodied in them, or intimately connected withthem; but even then, an ordinary mind, and more especially a youngperson, will not have made himself master of all the details. A third, and perhaps a fourth reading, will be found necessary to give him a fullcommand of all the minuter circumstances recorded. [18] In endeavouring to take advantage of this principle, so extensivelyemployed by Nature, it is of great importance to observe, that a certaindefinite effect is produced by each successive reading. A first readingestablishes in the mind of the pupil a regular frame-work of the wholehistory, which it is the business of every successive reading to fill upand complete. There is by the first course, a separation of the wholesubject into heads, forming the regular divisions of a first branch ofthe analysis;--the second course tends to subdivide these again intotheir several parts; and to form a second branch in this analyticaltable;--and a third course, would enable the pupil to perceive and toseparate the parts of the narrative included in these several divisions, by which there would arise a third branch, all included in the second, and even in the first. We have here supposed, that the pupil has been engaged with the verysame chapters in each of these several courses;--and that he read thesame words in the first course that he read in those which followed. Hehad to read the whole, although he could retain but little. He had tolabour the whole field for the sake of procuring plants, which couldhave been more certainly and more healthfully raised upon a square yard. His reading for hours has produced no more knowledge than is expressedby the first branch of the supposed analysis; and therefore, if theteacher would but analyse the subject for the child, whether it be ascience or a history, --suppose for example, the History of Joseph, --andgive his younger pupils no more at first than the simple _outline_ ofthe story, some very important advantages would be the result. In thefirst place, the very difficult task of keeping the volatile mind of achild continuously fixed to the subject during the lengthened reading ofthe whole narrative will be unnecessary;--the irritation and uneasinesswhich such a lengthened exercise must produce in a child will beavoided;--time will be economised, the labour of the teacher will bespared, and the mind of the child at the close of the exercise, insteadof being fagged and prostrated, will be found vigorous and lively. Andyet, with all this, the positive result will be the same. The child'sknowledge of the subject in this latter case, will in reality be asextensive, and much more distinct and permanent, than in the former. Here is the first step gained; and to attain the second, a similarcourse must be pursued. Nature, who formed this first branch of theanalytical table on the minds of the first class of the children, formedanother and more extended branch in the minds of the second class. Theteacher therefore has only to take each of the branches which form thefirst step, and sub-divide them into their natural heads, so as to forma second, --and to teach this to his children in the same manner that hetaught them the former. By this means, the first class will now possessan equal degree of knowledge with those who occupied the second;--and bya similar process, the others would advance to the third and the fourthclasses according to circumstances. The plan here proposed for imitating Nature by progressive steps, hasbeen tried with undeviating success for many years. Its efficiency, asembracing the principle employed by Nature for the communication ofknowledge, has been repeatedly subjected to the most delicate and at thesame time the most searching experiments. By its means, in connection ofcourse with the catechetical exercise by which it is wrought, veryextraordinary effects have been produced even upon individuals whoseminds and circumstances were greatly below the average of commonchildren. In the experiment made upon the adult criminals in the County Jail ofEdinburgh, the pupils acquired easily and permanently a thoroughknowledge of the history contained in the Book of Genesis. "They gave adistinct account of its prominent facts, from Adam, down to thesettlement in Goshen, and shewed by their answers, that thesecircumstances were understood by them, in their proper nature andbearings. They gave, in the next place, a connected view of the leadingdoctrines of revelation; when their answers evinced, mostsatisfactorily, that they apprehended, not merely each separate truth, but that they perceived its relation to others, and possessed aconsiderable knowledge of the divine system as a whole. They were alsoexamined upon several sections of the New Testament; where their answersdisplayed an equally clear and accurate knowledge of the subject. " Thesepersons, be it observed, belonged to a class of individuals, who aregenerally considered to be peculiarly hostile to the reception ofinformation of this kind, and certainly who are least able to comprehendand retain it; and all this, besides other portions of knowledge, onwhich they were examined during the experiment, was communicated withease by about twenty hours teaching. By the experiment made at Aberdeen, upon children the most ignorant thatthe Committee of Clergymen could find among the several schools in thecity, it was ascertained, that after only nine or ten hours teaching, they had not only received a thorough knowledge of "several sections ofNew Testament History, " but that they had acquired a knowledge of allthe leading events included in the Old Testament History, from "thedeath of Moses, downwards to that of the revolt of the Ten Tribes in thereign of Rehoboam. Here they distinctly stated and described all theleading circumstances of the narrative comprised in the 'First Step, 'whose brief but comprehensive outline they appeared, in variousinstances, to have filled up at home, by reading in their Bibles thecorresponding chapters. " The efficiency of this form of analytical teaching, as exhibited insuccessive steps, when employed for the purpose of teaching a knowledgeof civil history and biography, was also proved with equalcertainty;--for these same children showed a thorough knowledge of thatportion of the History of England embraced by the reign of Charles I. And the Commonwealth; and in biography, the life of the late John Newtonhaving been employed for the purpose, they shewed such an acquaintancewith the leading facts, and the uses to be made of them, that thereverend gentlemen in this report of the experiment say, that thechildren had "to be restrained, as the time would not permit. " In teaching the sciences, particularly the science of naturalphilosophy, this method of employing the principle of analysis has beenfound equally successful. Nature indeed, by the regular division of herseveral works, has obviously pointed this out as the proper method ofproceeding, especially with the young; and the success that hasinvariably accompanied the attempt, shews that the opinion is wellfounded. In the experiment at Aberdeen, the class of children, who were speciallyselected from their companions on account of their ignorance only a fewdays before, were "interrogated, scientifically, as to the production, the nature, and the properties of several familiar objects, with theview of shewing how admirably calculated the Lesson System is, forfurnishing the young with a knowledge of natural science and of thearts. One of their little companions being raised before them on abench, they described every part of his dress, from the bonnetdownwards, detailing every process and stage of the manufacture. Thebonnet, which was put on his head for this purpose, the coat, thesilk-handkerchief, the cotton vest, were all traced respectively fromthe sheep, the egg of the silk-worm, and the cotton-pod. The buttons, which were of brass, were stated to be a composition of copper and zinc, which were separately and scientifically described, with the reasonsassigned, (as good as could be given, ) for their admixture, in thecomposition of brass. " "A lady's parasol, and a gentleman's watch weredescribed in the same manner. The ivory knob, the brass crampet, thebamboo, the whalebone, the silk, were no sooner adverted to, than theywere scientifically described. When their attention was called to theseals of the gentleman's watch, they immediately said, 'These are ofpure, and those of jeweller's gold, ' and described the difference. Thesteel ring was traced to the iron-stone in the mine, with a descriptionof the mode of separating the metal from its combinations. The processesrequisite for the preparation of wrought-iron from the cast-iron, and ofsteel from the wrought-iron, with the distinguishing properties of eachof these metals, were accurately described, and some practical lessonsdrawn from these properties; such as, that a knife ought never to be putinto the fire, and that a razor should be dipped in warm water previousto its being used. Various articles were collected from individuals inthe meeting, and successively presented to them, all of which theydescribed. India-rubber, cork, sponge, pocket combs, &c. A small pocketthermometer, with its tube and its mercury, its principles and use, andeven the Turkey-leather on the cover, were all fully described. Afterexplaining the nature and properties of coal-gas, one of the boysstated to the meeting, that since the commencement of this experiment, he had himself attempted, and succeeded in making gas-light by means ofa tobacco-pipe;--his method of doing which he also described. " The other form in which the principle of Analysis may, in imitation ofNature, be successfully employed in communicating knowledge to theyoung, is not to be considered as new, although the working of theprinciple may not have been very clearly perceived, or systematicallyregulated. It is seen most simply perhaps in the division of anysubject, --a sermon for example--into its great general heads; and thenendeavouring to illustrate these, by sub-dividing each into its severalparticulars. By this means the whole subject is bound together, thejudgment is healthfully exercised, and the memory is greatly assisted inmaking use of the information communicated. It is upon this plan that the several discourses and speeches in theActs of the Apostles have been analysed, as an introduction to theteaching of the epistles to the young. [19] Upon the same principledepends the success of the "Analysis of Prayer, " of which we shallafterwards have to speak; and it is by means of this principle, inconnection with the successive steps, that the several departments ofnatural philosophy are proposed to be taught. The efficiency of the principle in this form, as applied to the teachingof natural philosophy to mere school boys, has been ascertained bynumerous experiments, of which the one in Aberdeen, already alluded to, has afforded good evidence. But the experiment conducted in Newry, onaccount of several concurrent circumstances, is still more remarkableand appropriate, and to it therefore we propose briefly to refer. "In the year 1830, the writer, in passing through the town of Newry onhis way to Dublin, was waited upon by several Sunday school teachers, and was requested to afford them some information as to teaching theirschools, and for that purpose to hold a meeting with them and theirfellow teachers, before leaving the place. To this he readily agreed;but as he intended to go to Dublin by the coach, which passed throughNewry in the afternoon, the meeting had to take place that same day attwo o'clock. At that meeting, the Earl of Kilmorey and a party of hisfriends were very unexpectedly present; and they, after the business ofthe meeting was over, joined with the others in requesting him topostpone his departure, and to hold a public meeting on the followingTuesday, of which due intimation would be given, and many teachers inthe neighbourhood, who must otherwise be greatly disappointed, would beable to attend. " To this request, accordingly, he at once acceded. "In visiting the schools next day, the propriety of preparing a class ortwo of children for the public meeting was suggested and approved of;and the day-teacher being applied to, gave Mr Gall a list of six of hisboys for the purpose. With these children he met on Monday; and afterinstructing them in the doctrines of the Gospel, and teaching them howto draw lessons from Scripture, he began to teach them some parts ofnatural philosophy, and to draw lessons also from these. Their aptness, and eagerness to learn, suggested the idea of selecting one of thesciences, and confining their attention principally to it, for thepurpose of ascertaining how much of the really useful parts of it theycould acquire and learn to use, in the short space of time which mustintervene between that period and the hour of meeting. Considering whatwould be most useful and interesting, rather than what would be mosteasy, he hastily fixed on the science of anatomy and physiology, andresolved to mark the time during which they were engaged with him inlearning it. These lessons were altogether oral and catechetical, --asneither he nor the children at that time had any books to assist them intheir labours. "The method adopted by Mr Gall in communicating a knowledge of thisimportant and difficult science to these school-boys, was strictlyanalytical;--classifying and connecting every part of his subject, andbringing out the several branches of the analysis in natural order, sothat the connection of all the parts was easily seen, and of course wellremembered. An illustration of his method may induce some parents to tryit themselves. "He first directed their attention to the bones, and taught them in afew words their nature and uses, as the pillars and safeguards of thebody;--the shank, the joint, and the ligaments, forming the branches ofthis part of the analysis. He then led them to imagine these bonesclothed with the fleshy parts, or muscles, of which the mass, theligaments, and the sinews, formed the branches. He explained the natureof their contraction; and shewed them, that the muscles being fastenedat one end by the ligament to a bone, its contraction pulled the sinewat the other, and thus bent the joint which lay between them. --He thentaught them the nature and uses of the several viscera, which occupy thechest and belly, and their connection with each other. This prepared theway for considering the nature of the fluids of the body, particularlythe blood, and its circulation from the heart and lungs by the arteries, and to them again by the veins, with the pulsation of the one, and thevalves of the other. The passage of the blood through the lungs, and theuses of the air-cells and blood-vessels in that organ were described;when the boys, (having previously had a lesson on the nature of water, atmospheric air, and the gases, ) readily understood the importance ofbringing the oxygen into contact with the blood, for its renovationfrom the venous to the arterial state. The nature of the stomach and ofdigestion, of the intestines, lacteals, and absorbents, was nextexplained, more in regard to their nature than their names, --which lastwere most difficult to remember;--but the knowledge of the function, invariably assisted the memory in recalling the name of the organ. Theywere next made acquainted with the brain, the spinal cord, and thenervous system generally, as the source of motion in the muscles, andthe medium of sensation in conveying intelligence from the severalorgans of sense to the brain, by which alone the soul, in some wayunknown, receives intelligence of outward objects. This prepared the wayfor an account of the organs of sense, and the mechanism of their parts;and lastly, they were made acquainted with the integuments, skin, hair, and nails, with the most obvious of their peculiarities. --On all thesethey were assiduously and repeatedly catechised, till the truths werenot only understood, but were in some degree familiar to them. In thisthey were greatly assisted by a consideration of their own bodies; whichMr Gall took care to make a kind of text-book, not only for making himbetter understood, but for enabling them more easily and permanently toremember what he told them. When he shewed them, by their hands, feet, and face, the ramifications of the blood-vessels and nerves, --themechanism of the joints, --the contraction of the various muscles, --thesituation and particular uses of which he himself did not even know, butwhich were nevertheless moved at their own will, and whenever theypleased, --the young anatomists were greatly pleased and astonished; andthis added to their eagerness for farther information, and to their zealin shewing that they understood, and were able again to communicate it. "These preparatory meetings were never protracted to any great extent, as the whole time was divided into three or four portions, --the boysbeing dismissed to think over the subject, (for they had nothing toread, ) and to meet again at a certain hour. The watch was againproduced, and the time marked; and when the whole period occupied bythis science and its connections was added together, it amounted to twohours and a half exactly. One of these lessons, and the longest, wasgiven during a stroll in the fields. "The public meeting of parents and teachers was held at Newry on the 5thof October 1830, when the above class, with others, were examined on thereligious knowledge which had been communicated to them on the previousdays, with its lessons and uses; after which the six boys were taken bythemselves, and thoroughly and searchingly catechised on their knowledgeof the anatomy and physiology of the human body. They were examinedfirst on the nature and uses of the bones, their shapes, substance, joints, and ligaments. Then on the nature and offices of the muscles, with their blood-vessels, nerves, ligaments, sinews, and motions;--theuses of the several viscera;--the heart with its pulsations, its power, its ventricles and auricles, and their several uses;--the lungs, withtheir air-cells, blood-vessels, and their use in arterializing theblood;--the stomach, intestines, &c. With their peristaltic motions, lacteals, &c. ;--the brain, spinal cord, and nerves, with theirconnections, ramifications, and uses;--the senses, with their severalorgans, their mechanism, and their manner of acting. On all these theywere questioned, and cross-questioned, in every variety of form: Andthat the audience might be satisfied that this was not a mere catalogueof names, but that in fact the physiology of the several parts wasreally known, and would be remembered, even if the names of the organsshould be forgotten, they were made repeatedly to traverse theconnecting links of the analysis forward from the root, through itsseveral branches, to the extreme limit in the ultimate effect; and, atother times backward, from the ultimate effect to the primitive organ, or part of the body from which it took its origin. For example, theycould readily trace forward the movement of the arm joint, or any otherjoint, from the ligament of the muscle at its junction with the bone, through its contraction by the nerve at the fiat of the will, by whichthe sinew of the muscle, fastened at the opposite side of the joint, ispulled, and the joint bent;--or they could trace backward any of theoperations of the senses, --the sight, for example, from the object seen, through the coats of the eye, to the inverted picture of it formed uponthe retina, which communicated the sensation to the optic nerve, bywhich it was conveyed to the brain. In all which they invariablysucceeded, and shewed that the whole was clearly and connectedlyunderstood. "When this had been minutely and extensively done on the several partsof the body, some medical gentlemen who were present were requested tocatechise them on any of the topics they had learnt, for the purpose ofassuring themselves and the audience that the children really andfamiliarly understood all that they had been catechised upon. One of themedical gentlemen, for himself and the others present, then statedpublicly to the meeting, that the extent of the children's knowledge ofthis difficult science was beyond any thing that they could haveconceived. And afterwards affirmed, that he had seen students who hadattended the medical classes for six months, who did not know so much ofthe human body as these children now did. " This experiment became more remarkable from a circumstance which tookplace within a few days afterwards, and which tended still more stronglyto prove the permanence and efficiency of this method of imitatingNature; shewing, not only that truth when communicated as Naturedirects, is easily received, and permanently retained upon the memory, but that all such truths when thus communicated, become more and morefamiliar to the mind, and more decidedly under the controul, and at thecommand of the will. The circumstance is thus recorded in the account ofthe experiment[20] from which we have already quoted. "At the close of the meeting, Mr Gall took farewell of his youngfriends, not expecting to have the pleasure of seeing them again; and(after a promised visit to Ravenstile, ) he proceeded on the followingThursday to Rostrevor, where he found a numerous audience, (publiclycalled together by Lady Lifford, the Rev. Mr Jacobs, and others, toreceive him, ) already assembled. "Here, in the course of teaching a class of children brought to him forthe first time, and explaining the nature and capabilities of thesystem, reference was made to the above experiment only a few daysbefore in their neighbourhood at Newry. Two gentlemen, [21] officiallyand intimately connected with the Kildare Place Society of Dublin, beingaccidentally present, were at their own desire introduced to Mr Gall bya clerical friend after the close of the exercises. The circumstances ofthe Newry experiment, which had been mentioned during the meeting, werestrongly doubted, till affirmed by the clerical friend who introducedthem; who, having been present and witnessed it, assured them that thecircumstances connected with the event had not been exaggerated. Theythen stated, that it must of necessity have been a mere transientglimpse received of the science by the children; which, being easilygot, would be as easily lost; and that its evanescent nature wouldwithout all question be found, by their almost immediately havingforgotten the whole of what had been told them. Mr Gall, however, assured them, that so far from that being the case, he was convinced, from long experience, that the information communicated would be muchmore lasting than that received in any other way. That the impressions, so repeatedly made upon their minds by the _catechetical exercises_, would remain with them very likely through life; while the effect of the_analytical mode_, by which he had linked the whole together, wouldprevent any of the important branches from ever being separated from therest. If, therefore, they remembered any of the truths, they would mostprobably remember all. And besides, he shewed, that the daily use, inthe ordinary business of life, which they would find for the lessonsfrom the truths taught, would revive part, and perhaps the whole, upontheir memories every day. But as it was of importance that they shouldbe satisfied, and to set the matter at rest, he agreed _to call the boysunexpectedly together_ at another public meeting in Newry, where theymight be present and judge for themselves; and without seeing or talkingwith the boys, he would examine them again publicly, and as extensivelyas before; when he was convinced they would shew, that the whole was asfresh on their memories as when they at first received it. In short, that they would be able to undergo the most searching ordeal, withequal, if not greater ease, than they had done formerly. "This was accordingly done. A meeting took place next day, equallyrespectable, and perhaps more numerous than the former, to which theboys were brought from their school, without preparation, or knowingwhat they were to be asked. They were then more fully and searchinglyexamined than at first; and there being more time, they were much longerunder the exercise. It was then found, that the information formerlycommunicated was not only remembered, but that the several truths weremuch more familiar, in themselves and in their connection with eachother, than they had been at the former meeting. This had evidentlyarisen from their own frequent meditations upon them since that time, and their application of the several lessons, either with one another, their parents, or themselves. The medical gentlemen were again present, and professed themselves equally pleased. " From the number and variety of these facts, which might be indefinitelyextended, it is obvious, that a new path lies open to the Educationist, which, as yet, has been scarcely entered upon. The same amount ofsuccess is at the command of every teacher who will follow in the samecourse, and keep rigidly in the path pointed out to him by Nature. FOOTNOTES: [18] Note P. [19] Note Q. [20] Complete Directory for Sunday School Teachers, vol. I. P. 267, andEffects of the Lesson System, p. 37. [21] Counsellor Jackson, M. P. Secretary to the Kildare Place Society, and Mr Hamilton, brother-in-law to the Duke of Wellington, one of theCommittee. CHAP. VII. _On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Practical Use of Knowledge. _ The third step in the educational process of Nature we have found to be, the training of her pupil to the practical use of his knowledge. --Allher other processes, we have seen from numerous circumstances, aremerely preparatory and subservient to this; and therefore, the attemptat imitation here by the teacher is of corresponding importance. Thepractical application of knowledge must be the great end of all thepupil's learning; and the parent or teacher should conduct his exercisesand labours in such a manner as shall be most likely to attain it. Thepowers of the mind are to be cultivated;--but they are to be cultivatedchiefly that the pupil may be able to collect and make use of hisknowledge:--And knowledge is to be pursued and stored up;--but this isto be done that it may remain at his command, and be readily put to usewhen it is required. To suppose any thing else, is to suppose somethingdirectly opposed to all the indications of Nature, and to the plainestsuggestions both of reason and experience. If in this department then, the teacher is to imitate Nature witheffect, there are two preliminary objects of which he ought never tolose sight. The first is, that he studiously select from the numeroussubjects which may form the staple of education, those only, or at leastchiefly, which are to be most useful, and which may most easily and mostfrequently be put to use by the pupil;--and the second is, that whateverbe the truth or the subject taught, the child should, at the time oflearning, be instructed in the methods and the circumstances in which itmay be used. To neglect these preliminary points, is really to betraythe cause of education, and, besides inflicting a lasting injury on theyoung, to deceive the public. In our enquiries into Nature's method of applying knowledge, we found, in a former chapter, that she employs two distinct agencies in the work. The one we denominated the Natural, or Common Sense; and the other isthe Conscience, or Moral Sense:--the one appearing to regulate ourknowledge in so far as it refers to the promotion of our own personaland physical comforts; and the other, in so far as it refers to therights and the well-being of others, and to our own moral good. Themethod which she employs in working out these two principles, is, as webefore explained, very nearly the same; consisting of the perception ofsome useful truth, --the deduction of a lesson from that truth, --and theapplication of that lesson to corresponding circumstances. On thataccount, our attempts to imitate her operations as exhibited by the one, will, in form, be nearly the same as in the other. We shall here, therefore, attend to the methods by which Nature may be successfullyimitated under both agencies, and shall then state a few illustrationsand facts which are more peculiarly applicable to each in particular. Before doing this, however, we cannot help once more pressing upon themind of all connected with education, the great importance--thenecessity--of that part of the subject upon which we are now to enter. We have said, and we again repeat, that _this_ is education; and everything else taught to a child is, or ought to be, either preliminary orsupplementary;--_belonging_ to education, perhaps, but not educationitself. It is _practice_, and not _theory_, that constitutes the basisof all improvement, whether in the arts, or in morals and religion; andit is to this practical application of what he learns, that every childshould be trained, by whatever name the mode of doing so may be known. All our blessings are destined to come to us by the use of proper means;and this general principle applies both to temporal and spiritualmatters. Now "the use of means, " is only another mode of expressing "thepractical application of knowledge. " And if so, what are we to think ofthe philosophy or the candour of the person, who is apparently thefriend of education, but who remains indifferent or hostile to the thingitself, merely because it is presented to him under another name. He maybe a zealous advocate for the spread of knowledge;--but that is noteducation. --Knowledge is but the _means_, --the application of it is the_end_; and when therefore he stops short at the communication ofknowledge, while he is indifferent to the teaching of its use, heendangers the whole of his previous labour. One single truth put to use, is of more real value to a child than a thousand are, as long as theyremain unused; and of this, every friend of the young ought to beconvinced. Our health, our food, and our general happiness depend, noton knowledge _received_, but on knowledge _applied_; and therefore, toteach knowledge that is inapplicable or useless, or to teach usefulknowledge without teaching at the same time how it may be put to use bythe pupil, is neither reasonable nor just. Hence the importance of ourpresent investigation; and hence we have no hesitation in saying, thatthe enquiry, "How can Nature be most successfully imitated in herapplication of knowledge?" is the most momentous question that can beput by the teacher; and a successful answer will constitute the mostprecious boon that can be afforded to education. To assist in thisenquiry is the design of the present chapter; and we shall accordinglyexamine a little more in detail the circumstances that take place in theexperience of the young, when they are induced to apply their knowledgeunder the guidance of Nature, and without another teacher. For this purpose, let us suppose two children about to cross a piece ofsoft ground. The one goes forward, and his foot sinks in the mud. Doesthe other follow him? No indeed. The most stupid child we could find, ifwithin the limits of sanity, would immediately stand still, or seek apassage at another point. Here then is an example of the way in whichchildren, while entirely under the guidance of Nature, make use of theirknowledge, by applying the principle of which we are here speaking incases of urgency and danger; and we shall now endeavour to analyse theprocess, that we may the more readily arrive at some exercise, by whichit may be artificially imitated, whether the application be urgent andrequired at the moment or not. We have supposed one child going forward on the soft ground, while theother is slowly following him. When the foot of the first sinks, theother instantly stands still; and a spectator can perceive, betterperhaps than the child himself, that something like the following mentalprocess takes place on the occasion. The child thinks with himself, "Tom's foot has sunk; if I go forward, I also will sink; I willtherefore stand still, or cross at another place. " This is an exactparallel to thousands of similar instances which come under the noticeof parents and others every day; and is a process quite familiar toadults who have paid any attention to the operation of their own mindswhen similarly circumstanced. When it is analysed, we find it toconsist, as shewn in a former chapter, of three distinct parts, not oneof which can be left out if the effect is to be produced. There isalways, at the commencement of such an operation, the knowledge of somefact; "Tom's foot has sunk. " There is, secondly, an inference or lessondrawn from this knowledge, "If I go forward, I also will sink. " Andthere is, thirdly, the practical application of that lesson, orinference, to the child's present circumstances: "I will stand still, orcross at another place. " It is this process, or one in every point similar, that takes place inthe mind, either of the young or the old, whenever they apply the factsgleaned by observation or experience for the guidance of their conduct. Now what we are at present in search of, is an exercise applicable to_reading_, as well as to observation;--to the _school_, as well as tothe play ground or the parlour;--and to knowledge whose use may not berequired at the instant, as well as that to which we are driven bynecessity. The desideratum here desired is to be found by the teacher in themethod, now very extensively known, of drawing lessons from usefultruths, and then applying them to the future probable circumstances ofthe pupils. For example, when a child reads, or is told that Jacob waspunished by God for cheating his brother and telling a lie, the greatobject of the parent or teacher is to render these truths_practical_, --which the question, "What does that teach you?" neverfails to do. The child, as soon as he knows the design of his teacher incommunicating practical truths, and is asked the above question, willtell him, that he ought never to cheat his neighbour, or tell a lie. Theapplication of these lessons, when thus established as a rule of dutyfounded on Scripture, is as extensive as the circumstances in which theymay be required are various;--and the teacher has only to suppose sucha case, and to ask his pupil, if he were placed in these circumstances, what he should do. The dullest of his children will at once perceive theduty, and the source from which he derives confidence in performing it. There is no difficulty, as we have seen, in drawing and applyingpractical lessons in cases of urgency, where experience and the commonsense of the individual prompt him to it;--and this attempt to imitateNature in less urgent cases, and especially in hearing, or in the moreartificial operation of reading, has been found in experience to becompletely successful. We shall endeavour to point this out by a fewfamiliar examples. Let us for this purpose suppose, that one of the boys formerly mentionedis accompanied by his teacher, instead of his companion, and isapproaching the soft ground which lies between them and the house. Before they arrive at the spot, his teacher tells him, that the marshbefore them is so soft that even a child's foot would sink if heattempted to tread upon it. The boy might hear, and perfectly understandthe truth, and yet he might not at the time think of the use to which itought to be put. But if the teacher shall immediately add, "What doesthat teach you?"--his attention would instantly be called, not so muchto the truth itself, as to the uses which ought to be made of it, andhis answer in such a plain case would be ready, "We must not crossthere, but seek a road to the house by some other way. " Now here thefact was verbally communicated; and although the object was in sight, and the use of the fact might in some measure have been anticipated soas to suggest the answer, yet a little consideration will shew, that asimilar effect would have been produced by the question, had the partiesbeen in the house, or had the truth been derived from reading, and notfrom the oral communication of the teacher. It is the want of something like this in the acquisition of truth bybooks, which renders that kind of knowledge in general of so littlepractical benefit. The truths and facts learned while attending school, are too often received as mere abstractions, without reference to theiruses, or to the personal application of those uses to the circumstancesof the child or his companions. Events daily occur in which the pupil'sknowledge might be of important service;--but the benefits to be derivedfrom it not having been taught, and the method of applying the factswhich he has acquired by reading not having been explained, --theknowledge and its uses are seldom seen together, and the practicalbenefit of the teaching is accordingly lost. This at once accounts forthe very remarkable circumstance, that children, and not unfrequentlyadults also, derive far more benefit from the scanty knowledge whichthey have gleaned by observation and experience, than from the manythousands of highly useful facts which have again and again been pressedupon their notice by reading and study. In almost every case Natureprompts us, as we have seen, to turn to our own benefit the knowledgewhich she has imparted; but as the mode of teaching reading, which isthe _artificial_ method of acquiring information, often overlooks theuse we are to make of it, we remain satisfied with the knowledge itself, and do not think of its application. To illustrate this fact in somemeasure, let us suppose a basket of filberts set down for the use of acompany of boys, and that one of them tries to crack the shells with hisfront teeth. He fails. But he sees his companions put the nuts fartherback in the mouth, and succeed. Does he lose his share, by continuing tomisapply the lever-power provided for him by Nature?--No indeed. He, bya single observation, at once draws and applies the lesson;--heimmediately cracks his nuts as readily as his companions, and hecontinues to do so all his lifetime after. But the same boy may have, that very forenoon, been reading a treatise on the power of the lever, and might read it again and again without considering himself at allinterested in the matter, or thinking it probable that he ever would. His reading, without the application we are here recommending, wouldnever have led him to perceive the slightest similarity between thefulcrum of the lever, and the insertion of his jaw; or any connectionbetween the lesson of the school, and the employment of theparlour:--But that would. This is but one of a thousand examples that might be given, of the evilsarising from the non-application of knowledge in reading, and which areapplicable, not to children merely, but also to adults. The drawing andapplying of lessons, the exercise which we are here recommending, hasbeen found a valuable remedy for this defect in ordinary reading. Theobject of the teacher by its use, is to accomplish in the pupil by_reading_, what we have shewn Nature so frequently does by_observation_;--that is, to train the child to apply for his own use, orthe use of others, those truths which he acquires from his _book_, inthe same way that he does those which he derives from _experience_. Toillustrate this, we shall instance a few cases of every day occurrence, in which the question, "What does this teach you?" when supplemented tothe fact communicated, will almost invariably answer the purposedesired, whether the truth from which the lesson is to be drawn, hasbeen received by observation, by oral instruction, or by reading. When an observing well-disposed child sees a school-fellow praised andrewarded for being obliging and kind to the aged or the poor, there isformed in the mind of that child, more or less distinctly, a resolutionto follow the example on the first opportunity. Here is the fact and thelesson, with the application in prospect. This whole feeling may befaint and evanescent, but it is real; and it only wants the cultivatinghand of the teacher to arrest it, and to render it permanent. Accordingly, if on the child hearing the praise given to his companionfor being kind and obliging to the poor, he had at the time been asked, "What does that teach you?" the lesson suggested by Nature wouldinstantly have assumed a tangible form; and in communicating the answerto the teacher, both the truth and the lesson would have been broughtmore distinctly before the mind, and the reply, "I should be kind andobliging to the poor, " would tend to fix the duty on the memory, andwould be a good preparation for putting it in practice when the nextoccasion should occur. Again, if another thoughtful and well disposed child sees a companionseverely punished for telling a lie, the question, "What does that teachme?" is in some shape or degree formed in his mind, and his resolution, however faint, is taken to avoid that sin in future. This, it isobvious, is nothing more than a practical answer to the above question, forced upon the child by the directness of the circumstances, but whichwould not have so readily made its appearance, or produced its effect, in cases of a less obtrusive kind, or in one of more remote application;and every person must see, that the beneficial effects desired wouldhave been more definite, more effectual, and much more permanent, hadthis faint indication of Nature's intention been followed up by orallyasking the question at the child, and requiring him audibly to return ananswer. Let us once more suppose a child in the act of reading the history ofCain and Abel, in the manner in which it is commonly read by the young, and that the child thoroughly understands all the circumstances. He maybe deeply interested in the story, while the uses to be made of it maynot be very clearly perceived. But if, after reading any one of themoral circumstances, such as "Cain hated his brother, " or after havingit announced to him by the teacher, he was asked, "What does that teachyou?" the practical use of the truth would at once be forced upon hismind, and he would now very readily answer, "It teaches me that I shouldnot hate my brother. " In this case also, it is quite obvious, thatwithout such a question having been proposed, and the answer to itgiven, the practical uses of the truth recorded might have beenaltogether overlooked; and even although they had not, still thequestion and its answer will always have the effect of making them standout much more prominently before the mind, and will enable the memory tohold them more tenaciously, and bring them forth more readily forpractice, than if such an operation had been neglected. Hence the greatimportance of training the young by this exercise early to perceive theuses of every kind of knowledge, particularly Scriptural knowledge;because the habit formed in youth, will continue to render every usefultruth of practical benefit during life. We may remark here, that the exercise is not limited in its applicationto the young. For if an adult were first told, that the squalid beggarbefore him, though once respectable and rich, had made himself wretchedby a course of idleness and dissipation, and were then asked, "What doesthat teach you?" he would instantly perceive the lesson, and would bestimulated to apply it. When, in like manner, the farmer is told thathis neighbour has ruined himself by over-cropping his ground; or theiron master, that the use of the hot-blast has doubled the profits ofhis rival; a similar question would at once lead to the legitimateconclusion, and most likely to the proper conduct. In all these examples, the operation of mind which we have endeavouredto describe, is so exceedingly simple, that it is perhaps difficult todecide how much is the work of Nature, and how much belongs to theexercise here recommended. This at once proves its efficiency, as animitation of her process, in following her in the path which she hashere pointed out; and it at the same time recommends itself as strictlyaccordant with observation and experience. The teacher then, in order torender the knowledge he communicates useful, has only to do regularlyand by system, that which, under the direction of Nature, everyintelligent and enquiring mind in its best moments does for itself. Wherever a useful truth has been communicated in the school or family, or a moral act or precept has been read or announced, the question bythe parent or the teacher, "What does that teach you?" will lead thepupil to reflection, not only on its nature, but on its use; and theability to do so, as we shall afterwards see, may be acquired by almostany individual with ease. Regular training in this way, leads directlyto habits of reflection and observation, which are of themselves ofgreat value; but which, when found acting in connection with the desireand ability to turn every truth observed into a practical channel, become doubly estimable, and a public blessing. The pupil thereforeought early to be trained of himself to supplement the question, "Whatdoes this teach me?" or, "What can I learn from this?" to everycircumstance or truth to which his attention is called; because theability to answer it forms the chief, if not the only correct measure ofa well educated person. In proof of this it is only necessary to remark, that as it is not the man who has accumulated the greatest amount ofanatomical and surgical knowledge, but he who can make the best use ofit, that is really the best surgeon; so it is not the man who has_acquired_ the largest portion of knowledge, but he who _can make thebest use_ of the largest portion, that is the best scholar. Hence it is, that all the exercises in a child's education should have in view thepractical use of what he learns, and of what he is to continue throughlife to learn, as the great end to which all his learning should besubservient. The moral advantages likely to result from the general adoption of thismode of teaching useful knowledge are exceedingly cheering, and the onlysurprise is, that it has been so long overlooked. That the principle, though not directly applied to the purposes of education, was wellknown, and frequently practised by our forefathers, appears obvious frommany of their valuable writings. One beautiful example of itsapplication is familiar to thousands, though not always perceived, inthe illustration given of the Lord's prayer towards the close of theAssembly's Larger and Shorter Catechisms. The study of the lessons theredrawn from the truths stated or implied in that prayer, will afford abetter idea of the value of this mode of teaching, than perhaps anyfarther explanation we could give, and to these therefore we refer thereader. Before closing these general observations upon the value and necessityof this method of training the young to the practical use of knowledge, there is a circumstance which should not be omitted, as it tends todouble all the advantages of the exercise, both to the teacher and thepupil. It will be found in general, especially in morals, that everypractical lesson that is drawn from a truth or passage, actuallyembodies two, --both of which are equally legitimate and connected withthe subject. There is always a _negative_ lesson implied, when the_positive_ lesson is expressed; and there is in like manner a _positive_implied, whenever it is the _negative_ that is expressed. As forexample, when the child, from the history of Cain and Abel, draws thenegative lesson that he should _not hate_ his brother; the opposite ofthat lesson is equally binding in the positive form, that he should_love_ his brother. And when, from the history of Job, the positivelesson is drawn that we ought to be patient; the negative of that lessonbecomes equally binding, and the child may, by the very same fact, betaught and enjoined not to be fretful, discontented, or impatient, during sickness or trouble. Of this method of multiplying the practicaluses of knowledge, we have a most appropriate example in the Assembly'sLarger and Shorter Catechisms, where the illustrations given of thedecalogue are conducted upon this important principle, and in a similarway. CHAP. VIII. _On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Use of Knowledge by means ofthe Animal or Common Sense. _ A large portion of what has been advanced in the foregoing chapter, hasreference to the practical application of all kinds of knowledge, whether by the Animal or Moral sense; and we shall here offer a fewadditional remarks on the teaching of those branches which are moreimmediately connected with the former. When a person is sent to learn an art or trade, such as a carpenter, heis not sent to hear lectures, or to get merely an abstract knowledge ofthe several truths connected with it; but he is sent to practise thelittle knowledge that he is able of himself to pick up. His is apractical learning; ninety-nine parts in every hundred being employed inthe practice, for one that is employed in acquiring the abstractprinciples of his occupation. When, on the contrary, a child is sent toschool, to prepare him for this practical application of his knowledge, the former proportions are generally reversed, and ninety-nine parts ofhis time and labour are taken up in attaining abstract knowledge, forone that is occupied in assisting him to reduce it to practice. Bothmodes of teaching the boy are obviously wrong. He would, when sent toit, learn his business in much less time by a previous acquaintance withits principles; and all these ought to have been furnished him as apart of his general knowledge while he attended the school. Suchinformation, indeed, ought to have formed a large portion of hiseducation;--and it will be a matter of surprise to every one who closelyconsiders the subject, how soon and how easily the principles, even ofso complicated a trade as a carpenter, may be acquired when they aretaught in the right way, and at the proper time. A few of the simplestprinciples in mechanics practically learned, --a knowledge of thestrength and adhesion of bodies, --of the nature of edge tools, --and theimportance of accuracy and caution, might have been made familiar to himwhile attending his studies; and if carefully and constantly reduced topractice, these would have been of the greatest service to him whencalled to the work-shop. The methods by which natural philosophy ought to be taught in schools, must partake of all the laws which Nature employs in the several partsof her teaching. Individuation, Grouping, and especially Analysis, mustbe rigidly attended to. By dividing all the subjects of generalknowledge into the two grand divisions of Terrestrial and Celestial, andthese again into their several parts, the whole field of usefulknowledge would be mapped out, and connected together, so that eachsubject would occupy a distinct place of its own, and be readily foundwhen it was required. The facts, or at least the most useful factsconnected with each of these, would very soon be communicated; and whenturned into a popular and useful form, by drawing and applying thecorresponding lessons, the ease and delight of laying up these preciousstores of useful knowledge by children, will not be easily conceived bythose who have not witnessed it. With respect to _the ease_ with which this method of communicatingknowledge can be accomplished, we may remark in general, that when aprinciple has been explained, and has become familiar to the child, allthe phenomena arising out of it, when pointed out, are readily perceivedand retained upon the memory in connection with it. For example, by aknowledge of the principle which teaches that fluids press equally onall sides, when considered in connection with the weight of theatmosphere, a child, with very little trouble, would be put into thefull possession of the cause of many facts in natural philosophy, exceedingly dissimilar in their appearance, but which are all masteredwith ease and intelligence by a knowledge of this law. When theprinciple and its mode of working have been explained, the child isprovided with a key, by which he may, in the exercise of his own powers, unlock one by one all the mysterious phenomena of the air and commonpump, the cupping-glass, the barometer, the old steam and fire engine, the toy sucker and pop-gun, the walking of a fly on the ceiling, theascent of smoke in the chimney, the sipping of tea from a cup, thesucking of a wound, and the true cause of the inspiration and expirationof the air in breathing. To teach these singly, would obviously beexceedingly troublesome to the teacher, and laborious for the child; butwhen thus linked together, as similar effects from the same cause, theyare understood at once, and each of them helps to illustrate and explainall the others. They are received without confusion, and are rememberedwithout difficulty. All this may in general be done even with children, as we shall immediately prove, by the method recommended above, ofrequiring, after the illustration of the principle, the lessons which itis calculated to teach. The results of this simple method of imitating Nature in one of the mostvaluable of her processes, have been found remarkably uniform andsuccessful; and when it shall be regularly brought into operation inconnection with the other parts of the system, it promises to be stillmore valuable and extensive. But even already, with all thedisadvantages of time, place, and persons, the importance andefficiency of the exercise have been highly satisfactory. We shallshortly advert to a few instances of its success, which have beenpublicly exhibited and recorded. The criminals in the jail of Edinburgh, after three weeks teaching, hadacquired a considerable degree of expertness in perceiving and drawinglessons from the moral circumstances which they read from Scripture. Inthe report of that experiment, the examinators say, "They gave adistinct account, (from the book of Genesis, ) of the prominent facts, from Adam, down to the settlement in Goshen, and shewed by theiranswers, that the circumstances were understood by them, in their propernature and bearings. From each peculiar circumstance, they deduced anappropriate lesson, calculated to guide their conduct, when placed in alike, or analogous situation. It is within the truth to allege, that inthis part of their examination, they submitted upwards of fifty palpablelessons, that cannot fail, we would conceive, hereafter to have apowerful influence upon their affections and deportment. " In the experiments both in Newry and London, the children were foundquite adequate to the exercise; and in the latter instance, threechildren, who at their first lesson did not know they had a soul, wereable to perceive and to draw lessons from almost any moral truth or factpresented to them. This they did repeatedly when publicly examined bythe Committee of the London Sunday School Union, in presence of a largebody of clergymen, and a numerous congregation in the Poultry Chapel. But we shall at present direct attention more particularly to thechildren selected from the several schools in Aberdeen, as given in theReport by Principal Jack, and the Professors and Clergymen in thatplace. After mentioning, that these children, so very ignorant onlyeight days before, had acquired a thorough acquaintance with theleading facts in Old Testament History, they say, "From the variousincidents in the Sacred Record, with which they had thus been brought soclosely into contact, they drew, as they proceeded, a variety ofpractical lessons, evincing, that they clearly perceived, not only thenature and qualities of the actions, whether good or evil, of thepersons there set before them, but the use that ought to be made of suchdescriptions of character, as examples or warnings, intended forapplication to the ordinary business of life. "They were next examined, in the same way, on several sections of theNew Testament, from which they had also learned to point out thepractical lessons, so important and necessary for the regulation of theheart and life. The Meeting, as well as this Committee, were surprisedat the minute and accurate acquaintance which they displayed with themultiplicity of objects presented to them, --at the great extent of therecord over which they had travelled, --and at the facility with whichthey seemed to draw useful lessons from almost every occurrencementioned in the passages which they had read. " They were able also to apply this same principle, --the practicalapplication of useful knowledge, --to the perusal of civil history, andalso biography. The report states, that "they were examined on thatportion of the History of England, embraced by the reign of Charles I. And the Commonwealth; and from the details of this period, they drewfrom the _same circumstances_, or announcements, political, domestic, and personal lessons, as these applied to a nation, to a family, and toindividuals;--lessons which it ought be the leading design of history tofurnish, though, both by the writers and readers of history, thisCommittee are sorry to say, they are too generally overlooked. "They were then examined on biography, --the Life of the late Rev. JohnNewton being chosen for that purpose; from whose history they also drewsome very useful practical lessons, and seemed very desirous ofenlarging, but had to be restrained, as the time would not permit. " The practicability and the importance of teaching children to apply thesame valuable principle to every branch and portion of naturalphilosophy were also ascertained. The same report, after stating thefact, that the children scientifically described to the meeting numerousobjects presented to them from the several kingdoms of Nature, goes onto say, that "here also they found no want of capacity or of materialsfor practical lessons. A boy, after describing copper as possessingpoisonous qualities, and stating, that cooking utensils, as well asmoney, were made of it, was asked what practical lessons he could drawfrom these circumstances, replied, That no person should put halfpencein his mouth; and that people should take care to keep clean pans andkettles. " The common school boys in Newry also found no difficulty in theexercise, as applied to the abstruse and difficult sciences of anatomyand physiology. The account of that experiment, says, that they were"examined as to the _uses_ which they ought to make of all thisinformation, by drawing practical lessons from the several truths. Accordingly, announcements from the different branches of the sciencewere given, from which they now very readily drew numerous and valuablepractical lessons, several of which were given at this time ofthemselves, and which had not been previously taught them. These weredrawn directly from the announcements; and all, according to theirnature, calculated to be exceedingly useful for promoting the health, the comfort, and the general happiness of themselves, their friends, ortheir companions. " But by far the most extensive and satisfactory evidence of the value andefficiency of this exercise, in the mental and moral training of theyoung, was afforded by the experiment undertaken at the request of theLesson System Association of Leith, and conducted in the Assembly Roomsthere, in the presence of the Magistrates and Clergy of that town, ofBishop Russell, Lord Murray, (then Lord Advocate, ) and a numerousmeeting of the friends of education. The children were those connectedwith a Sabbath school, who had been regularly trained by their teacher, a plain but pious workman of the town, to draw lessons every Sabbathfrom the several subjects and passages of Scripture taught them. To giveall the specimens which afford evidence of the value and efficiency ofthis exercise in the education of children, would be to transcribe thereport of the Association; we shall therefore confine ourselves to a fewof the circumstances only, which were taken in short-hand by a publicreporter who was present. After some important and satisfactory exercises on the being andattributes of God, from which the children drew many valuable practicallessons, it is said, that the examinator "expressed his entiresatisfaction with the result, and remarked, that he himself wasastonished, not only at the immense store of biblical knowledgepossessed by these children, but the power which they possessed over it, and the facility with which they could, on any occasion, use it in'giving a reason for the hope that is in them. ' He then proceeded to thenext subject of examination which had been prescribed to him, which was, to ascertain the extent of their mental powers and literary attainments, which would be most satisfactorily shown by their ability to read theBible profitably; and for this purpose he requested that some of theclergymen present would suggest _any_ passage from the New Testament onwhich to exercise them. The Rev. Dr Russell (now Bishop Russell, )suggested the parable of the labourers hired at different hours, Matt. Xx. 1-16. Mr Gall accordingly read it distinctly, verse by verse, catechising the children as he proceeded, and then made them relate thewhole in their own words, which they did most correctly. "Mr Gall then selected some of the verses, and called upon them toseparate the circumstances, or parts of each verse, and to state each asa separate proposition. This also they did with the greatest ease; andin some cases a variety of divisions were brought forward, thus provingthe high intellectual powers which they had acquired, and the ease withwhich they could analyse any passage, however difficult. "It was next to be ascertained what power the children had acquired ofdrawing lessons from Scripture; and for this purpose, Mr Gall, in orderto husband the time of the meeting, confined the children's attention toone verse only, and proposed to submit each of the moral circumstancescontained in that verse, one by one, as they themselves had divided it. The following are the lessons drawn by the children, as taken down inshort-hand by the Reporter. "_Mr G. _--The householder invited labourers at the eleventh hour;--whatdoes that teach you?--It teaches us, that God at various seasons callspeople to his church. --It teaches us, that we ought never to despair, but bear in mind the language of Jesus to the repentant thief on thecross, --'To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise. '--It teaches us, thatwe ought not to boast of to-morrow, since we know not what a day or anhour may bring forth. --It teaches us, that time is short, and that lifeis the only period for preparation and hope. --It teaches us, that weought to be prepared, --have our loins girt, and our lamps burning; forwe know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of Man cometh. --Itteaches us, that we ought to number our days, and apply our hearts toheavenly wisdom. --It teaches us, that we ought not to put off the day ofrepentance; because for every day we put it off, we shall have one moreto repent _of_, and one less to repent _in_. --It teaches us, 'That life is the season God hath given To fly from hell, and rise to heaven; That day of grace fleets fast away, And none its rapid course can stay. ' "Mr Gall here requested the children to pause for a moment, that hemight express the high gratification he felt at the fluency, thereadiness, and the appropriateness of the lessons which they had drawn. He was only afraid that they had inadvertently fallen upon a passagewith which the children were familiar, by having had it recently undertheir notice; and he therefore requested Mr Cameron to state to themeeting whether this was really the case or not. Mr Cameron rose andsaid, that what the meeting now saw was no more than could be seen anySunday in the Charlotte Street School. They had not had any preparationfor this meeting; and he did not remember of ever having had thispassage taught in the school. He would recommend that the children beallowed a little freedom; and when they were done with thatannouncement, let any other be taken, for it was the same to themwhatever subject might be chosen. "Mr Gall accordingly repeated the announcement again, and called on themto proceed with any other lessons from it which occurred to them. Theyaccordingly commenced again, and answered as follows: It teaches us, that we ought to remember our Creator in the days of our youth, whilethe evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh in which we shall say wehave no pleasure in them. --It teaches us, that we ought to prepare fordeath; to gird up our loins, and trim our lamps, lest it be said unto usin the great day of the Lord, when he maketh up his jewels, 'Depart fromme, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and hisangels. '--It teaches us so to conduct ourselves, that whether we livewe live unto the Lord, and whether we die we die unto the Lord; and thatwhether we live therefore or die, we may be the Lord's; for to that endChrist both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both ofthe dead and the living. [22]--It teaches us to improve our time lest wefind that the harvest is past, and the summer ended, and us notsaved. --It teaches us, that we ought to study, in that whether we eat ordrink, or whatsoever we do, we do all to the glory of God. --It teachesus, that we ought to endeavour to secure an interest in Christ intime. --It teaches us, that delays are dangerous. --It teaches us, thatthe day of the Lord cometh like a thief in the night, and that whensinners shall say, 'Peace and safety, ' sudden destruction cometh uponthem. --It teaches us, that we ought to acquaint ourselves early withGod; and that we ought to walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. --It teaches us, that weought to seek the Lord while he may be found, and call upon him while heis near; that the wicked ought to forsake his way, and the unrighteousman his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, who will have mercyupon him, and to our God, who will abundantly pardon. --It teaches us toimprove our time; and to bear in mind, that though patriarchs livedlong, the burden of the historian's tale is always, 'and they died. '--Itteaches us, that we ought not to allow pleasures and enjoyments tointerfere with, or overcome, our more important duty of seeking God. --Itteaches us, that we are never too young to pray, and to remember thatGod says, 'Now;'--the devil, 'To-morrow. ' "Mr Gall here took advantage of a short pause, and said, 'We shall nowchange the announcement. Give me a few lessons from the fact stated inthis parable, that _when the husbandman invited the labourers into thevineyard at the eleventh hour, they accepted the invitation_. --What doesthat teach you?'--It teaches us, that we ought to accept the invitationof Jesus to come with him, 'Ho! every one that thirsteth, come ye to thewaters, and he that hath no money; come ye buy and eat; yea, come, buywine and milk without money, and without price. Seek ye the Lord whilehe may be found; call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsakehis way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return untothe Lord, who will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he willabundantly pardon. '--It teaches us, that we ought to show a willingnessto accept the invitation of Christ, since 'he is not willing that anyshould perish, but that all should come unto him and live. '--It teachesus, that we ought to accept the invitation of Christ, since we areinformed in the Scriptures, 'that whosoever cometh unto him he will inno ways cast out. ' It teaches us, that we ought to accept of theinvitation of Christ; for the Bible informs us, that the invitation isheld forth to all; 'for whosoever will, let him take of the waters oflife freely. '--'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. '--It teaches us, that we ought not to hesitatein accepting the invitation of Christ; for God says he will not alwaysstrive with man. "Mr Gall here again expressed not only his satisfaction, but hisastonishment, at the success with which Mr Cameron had taught theScriptures to these children. This exhibited itself in two ways;_first_, in enabling them to draw lessons from any passage of Scripture;and _second_, in having so disposed of what Scripture they had alreadybeen taught, that whenever a doctrine or duty was to be brought beforethem, scriptural declarations crowded around them 'as a light to theirfeet, and a lamp to their path. ' He himself had no doubt that thechildren were no more prepared upon this passage than upon any other;but it would exhibit this fact more satisfactorily, if _another_ passagewere selected, which he requested some of the gentlemen present to do. "The clergymen present accordingly requested Mr Gall to try theconcluding portion of the second chapter of Luke, which details Christ'svisit to Jerusalem at twelve years of age. After having read andcatechised the children on this passage, as he had done on the former, he proceeded at once to call for lessons. Mr Gall gave us theannouncement that _'Joseph and Mary worshipped God in public_, ' andasked for one or two lessons from this? It teaches us, that we ought toworship God both in public and in private. --It teaches us, that notrifles ought to hinder us from worshipping God. --One child quoted thefollowing verse:-- 'Come then, O house of Jacob, come, And worship at his shrine! And walking in the light of God, With holy beauties shine. ' "Mr Gall then said, Let us change the announcement: 'Joseph and Marywent regularly every year to the feast of the passover?'--What does thatteach you?--That teaches us, that we ought to attend the house of Godregularly. --It teaches that we ought to attend church both times of theday. --It teaches us that we ought to worship God regularly; for Godloveth order, and not confusion. "Let us change the announcement again. 'Jesus attended the passover whenhe was twelve years of age. ' What does this teach you?--It teaches us, that parents should train up their children in the way they shouldgo. --It teaches us, that learning young is learning fair. --It teachesus, that children should never be thought too young to be brought up inthe fear of the Lord. --It teaches us, that children should obey theirparents. --What are we to learn from their 'fulfilling the days?'--Itteaches us, that we should not leave the church until the sermon isover. --It teaches us, that we ought not to disturb others by leaving thechurch. " Remarkable as this exhibition was of the attainment of extraordinarymental power by mere children, yet it is but justice to say, that theabove is merely a specimen of the elasticity and grasp of mind whichthese children had acquired. Some idea of the extent of this may beformed when it is considered, that all these passages and, subjects werechosen for them at the moment, and by strangers. And it is worthy ofremark, that if such an amount of mental power, and such an accumulationof knowledge, of the best and most practical kind, were easily andpleasantly acquired by children in the lowest ranks of life, of theirown voluntary choice, under every disadvantage, and with no more thantwo hours teaching in the week; what may we not expect, when theprinciples here developed, are wielded and applied by those whothoroughly understand them, not for two hours, with an interval of sixbusy days, but every day of the week?--The prospect is cheering. FOOTNOTES: [22] At this part, the Report of the Experiment contains the followingNote:--"The reader will perceive that some of the lessons diverge attimes from the announcement; but it is of great importance, in anexperiment of this kind, neither to omit nor amend what is wrong, but togive exactly the words that were spoken. Not the least remarkablecircumstance elicited by this experiment is the fact, that thesechildren, who know nothing of the rules of grammar, have obviously, bythe mental exercise induced by the system, become pretty correctpractical grammarians. The variations made in many of the passages ofScripture quoted by them show this. " CHAP. IX. _On the Imitation of Nature in Teaching the Practical Use of Knowledgeby means of the Moral Sense, or Conscience. _ In a former chapter we endeavoured to collect a few facts speciallyconnected with the moral sense, as exhibited in the young, and themethods which Nature employs, when conscience is made use of for theapplication of their knowledge. [23] We shall in this chapter offer a fewadditional remarks on the imitation of Nature in this importantdepartment; but before doing so, it will be proper to clear our way bymaking a few preliminary observations. No one disputes the general principle, that education is proper forman;--and if so, then education must be beneficial in all circumstances, and at every period of his life. In particular, were we to ask whethereducation were necessary in early childhood, and infancy, universalexperience would at once answer the question, and would demonstrate, that it is much more necessary and more valuable at that season, than atany future period of the individual's life. In proof of this, we find, that enlightened restraint upon the temper, and a regulating care withregard to the conduct, are productive of the most beneficial results;while, on the contrary, when this discipline is neglected, the violenceof self-will generally becomes so strong, and the checks upon the temperso weak, that the character of the child formed at this period may besuch as to make him for life his own tormentor, and the pest of all withwhom he is to be associated. --No one can reasonably deny this; and theconclusion is plain, that education of some kind or other is really morenecessary for the infant and the child, than it is either for the youthor the man. If this general principle be once admitted, and we set it down as anaxiom that the infant and the child are to learn _something_, --itnaturally follows, that we are required to teach them those usefulthings for which Nature has more especially fitted them; while we areforbidden to force branches of knowledge upon them of which they areincapable. Our object then, ought to be to ascertain both the positiveand the negative of this proposition; endeavouring to find out what theinfant and child _are_ capable of learning, and what they _are not_. Nowit is an important fact, not only that infants and young children arepeculiarly fitted, by the constitution of their minds and affections, for learning and practising the principles of religion and morals; butit is still more remarkable, that they are, for a long period, incapableof learning or practising any thing else. If this can be established, then nothing can be more decisive as to the intention of Nature, thatmoral and religious training, is not only the great end in view by acourse of education generally, but that it is, and ought always to be, the first object of the parent and teacher, and the only true and solidbasis upon which they are to build all that is to follow. Let ustherefore for a moment enquire a little more particularly into thisimportant subject. When we carefully examine the conduct of an enlightened and affectionatemother or nurse with the infant, as soon as it can distinguish rightfrom wrong and good from evil, we find it to consist of two kinds, whichare perfectly distinct from each other. The one regards the comfort andphysical welfare of the child;--the other regards the regulation of itstemper, its passions, and its conduct. It is of the latter only that weare here to speak. When this moral training of the judicious mother is examined, we find ituniformly and entirely to consist in an indefatigable watchfulness inpreventing or checking whatever is evil in the child, and inencouraging, and teaching, and training to the practice of whatever isgood. She is careful to enforce obedience and submission in everycase;--to win and encourage the indications of affection; to checkretaliation or revenge; to subdue the violence of passion or inordinatedesire;--to keep under every manifestation of self-will;--and to soothedown and banish every appearance of fretfulness and bad temper. Inshort, she trains her young charge to feel and to practise all theamiable and kindly affections of our nature, encouraging and commendinghim in their exercise;--while, on the contrary, she prevents, discourages, reproves, and if necessary punishes, the exhibition ofdispositions and conduct of an opposite kind. This, as every one who hasexamined the subject knows, is the sum and substance of the mother'seducational efforts during this early period of her child'sprogress;--and what we wish to press upon the observation of the readeris, that the child at this period is literally incapable of learning anything else which at all deserves the name of education. He may be taughtto be obedient; to be submissive; to be kind and obliging; to moderate, and even to suppress his passions; to controul his wishes and hiswill;--to be forbearing and forgiving;--and to be gentle, peaceable, orderly, cleanly, and perhaps mannerly. Is there any thing else?--Isthere any one element of a different kind, that ever does, or ever canenter into the course of an infant or young child's education? If therebe, what is it?--Let it be examined;--and we have no hesitation insaying, that if it be "education, " or any thing that deserves the name, it will be found to resolve itself into some one or other of the moralqualities which we have above enumerated. If therefore children, duringthe earlier stages of their educational progress are to be taught atall, religion and morals _must_ be, the subjects, seeing that they arefor a long period capable of learning nothing else. And it is hereworthy of especial notice, that in teaching religion and morals, thereis a negative as well as a positive scale;--and experience has uniformlydemonstrated, that if the parent or teacher neglect to improve the childby raising him in the positive side, he will, by his own efforts, sinkdeeper in the negative. Selfishness, as exhibited in the naturaldepravity of human nature, will in all such cases strengthen daily; andall the evil passions which selfishness and self-will call intoexercise, will then be strengthened and confirmed perhaps for life. But while we perceive that the young are incapable of learning any thingelse than what is properly termed religion and morals, we find it to beequally true, that they are peculiarly fitted and furnished by Naturefor making rapid and permanent progress whenever religion and morals aremade the subjects of regular instruction and training. Few who haveconsidered carefully the facts stated above, will question the accuracyof this assertion in so far as _morals_ are concerned; but there aresome who will doubt the capacity of infants and children to beinfluenced by _religion_. Now this doubt arises from not observing thedifference, --and the only difference, --that exists between morality andreligion. A man or a child is _moral_ when he is kind and forgiving forhis own sake, and to please himself or his parents;--but he is_religious_ when he does the same thing for conscience sake, and toplease God. Now children, by the very constitution of their minds, arewell fitted for receiving all that kind of religious knowledge whichacts upon the feelings, and influences the conduct; while the heart ispeculiarly sensitive, and is disposed to bend under the influence ofevery expression of affection and tenderness exhibited by others towardsthem. Their faith in all that they are told, as we have seen, isunhesitating and entire; and the capacity of their lively imaginations, for comprehending things mighty and sublime, which is too often abusedby the ideas of giants, and ogres, and ghosts, is sanctified and refinedby hearing of the greatness, and goodness, and love of the great Creatorof heaven and of earth. When they are informed of his affection andtenderness to them individually;--of his mercy and grace in saving themfrom the awful consequences of sin by the substitution of his own Sonfor their sakes;--of his numerous benefits, and his unceasing care;--ofhis constant presence with them though unseen; and of his hatred ofsin, and his love of holiness;--there is no mixture of doubt toneutralize the effects of these truths; and they much more willingly andunreservedly give themselves up to their influence, than those who areolder. Hence, the repeated declarations of our Lord, that "unless webecome as little children, we shall in no case enter into the kingdom ofGod. " A simple enumeration therefore of the benefits they have receivedfrom this kind and condescending heavenly Father, is well fitted to fillthe heart of an unsophisticated child with affection and zeal, --and mostpowerfully to constrain him to avoid every thing that he is told willgrieve and offend him, and to watch for opportunities to do what he nowknows will honour and please him. This is religion; and it is peculiarlythe religion of the young;--and that man or woman will be found mostreligious, who, both in spirit and in action, shall approach nearest toit in its purity and simplicity. From all these considerations we see, that Nature has intended that thefirst part of the child's education shall consist almost exclusively ofmoral and religious training;--and this we think cannot be disputed byany one who considers the above facts dispassionately, or who will allowhis mind to act as it ought to do under the influence of ascertainedtruth. We shall now therefore offer a few remarks on the manner in whichthis may most effectually be carried into effect; or, in other words, how Nature may most successfully be imitated in the application ofknowledge by means of the moral sense. 1. The first thing to be observed here then is, that the early effortsof the parent or teacher are to be employed for disciplining the childunder the influence of the executive powers of conscience. --The child isto be trained to the perfect government of his inclinations and temper, by a watchful attention on the part of the parent to every instance oftheir exhibition in his daily conduct, the regulation of the desires, the softening down of the passions, the eradicating of evilpropensities, the restraining and overcoming the exercise of self-will, the converting of selfishness into benevolence, and the cultivating andstrengthening of self-controul within, and of sympathy, and forbearance, and kindness to all without. These are the great ends which the parentand teacher are to have in view in all their dealings with the child. They are, in short, to take care that their pupil be reduced to a stateof enlightened submission, and uniform obedience; and for that purpose, they are to employ all the means and the machinery provided by Nature, in the use of which she has afforded them abundant examples. In the accomplishment of these ends, _the agent_ employed has much inher power. It is a delicate, as well as an important work; and here, more than perhaps in any after period of the child's educationalprogress, an affectionate and enlightened agency is of the greatestimportance. In that constant watchfulness and exertion, necessary tocheck or to controul the unceasing and often unreasonable desires of afroward child, there is naturally created in the mind of a hireling or astranger, a feeling of irritation and dislike, which nothing butenlightened philanthropy, or high moral principle, will ever be ablethoroughly to overcome;--and these qualifications are scarcely to beexpected in those who are usually picked up to assist the mother duringthis important season. In families, Nature has graciously balanced thiseffect, and amply provided for it, in the deep-seated and unalterableaffection of the parent. The mother then is the proper agent, selectedand duly qualified by Nature for superintending this important workduring this early period. The out-bursts and irregularities of naturaldepravity in the young, must be met by an unconquerable affection, exhibited in the exercise of gentleness, guided by firmness;--ofkindness and forbearance, combined with a steady and an untiringperseverance. Irregularity or caprice in the nurse, may be the ruin ofthe morals of the child. The selection of assistance here is oftenrequisite, and yet how few comparatively of those into whose handschildren and infants are placed, possess the high qualificationsnecessary for this important occupation?[24] The parent who from anycause is prevented from taking charge of the superintendence of heroffspring at this period, incurs a serious responsibility in the choiceof her assistant; for if these qualifications be awanting, or, if theybe not exercised by the nurse or the keeper, the happiness and moralwelfare of the child during life are in imminent danger. 2. The child is not only to be trained to think and to act properly, buthe must be trained to do so _under the influence of motives_. If this beneglected, we are not imitating Nature in her mode of applying knowledgeby means of the moral sense. We have seen, as formerly noticed, that achild under the influence of conscience, has always a painful feeling ofself-reproach, or remorse, after it has done wrong; and a delightfulfeeling of self-approval and joy, when it has done something that ispraiseworthy. These are employed by Nature as powerful motives toprevent the repetition of the one, and to win the child to the frequentor regular performance of the other;--and this is their effect. Inimitating her in this part of her educational process, we must in likemanner follow in the spirit of this principle. There must be motives ofaction held out to the child; something that will tend to keep him fromthe commission of evil, and something that will stimulate and encouragehim in doing good. Both are necessary, and therefore, neither of themshould be neglected. What these motives ought to be, we shallimmediately shew; but at present, we are anxious to establish the fact, that motives to do good, should be invariably employed with our pupils, as well as motives to avoid evil. In ordinary life, we generally findtoo much of the one, and too little of the other. The fear of punishmentheld out to prevent mischief or evil, is common enough; but there isseldom sufficient attention paid to the providing of proper incitementsto the practice of virtue. Some, indeed, have gone the length ofaffirming that there ought to be no such incitement held out to theyoung; under the erroneous idea, that actions performed for anequivalent, or in the hope of a reward, cease to be virtuous. But thesame reasoning would apply with almost equal force to the fear ofpunishment in stimulating to duty, or in deterring from wickedness; andyet they would scarcely affirm, that the child who, for fear of theconsequences, refused to break the Sabbath or to tell a lie, was equallyguilty with the boy who did both. There are, no doubt, some motives tovirtue that are higher and more noble than others, as there aredifferences in the degrading nature of punishment employed to deter menfrom vice. But both kinds may be necessary for different persons. Theman who forgives his enemy because he seeks the approbation of his Makerand the reward promised by him, and the man who does so, because hewishes to live in quiet, and to consult his own ease;--the boy whorefrains from sin lest he should offend God, and another who does thesame from the fear of the rod, --are each influenced by motives, althoughthey are of a very different kind. But it is plain, that the motivesemployed may be equally efficient, and that they ought to be usedaccording to their influence upon the individual, and his advancement inthe paths of morality and religion. Where the higher motive has not asyet acquired influence, the lower motive must be employed; but to refusethe employment of either would be wrong, and the sentiment which wouldtotally exclude them, has no countenance in Nature, in experience, norin Scripture. In Nature, we see the directly opposite principleexhibited; and find that the remorse of conscience consequent uponcrime, in preventing future transgressions, is not more powerful inthose whose moral status is low, than is the feeling of delight and joyafter an act of benevolence, which excites to new deeds of charity, inthose whose religious attainments are greater. Scripture, and thehistory of all those whom Scripture holds out for imitation, unite inteaching the same sentiment. There are many more promises in the sacredrecord given to virtue, than there are threatenings against vice; andthe highest altitudes of holiness are not only represented as havingbeen attained by the influence of these promises; but the persons whohave already reached them, are still urged to greater exertions, and afarther advance, by the reiteration of their number and their value. Moses, we are told, "had an eye to the recompense of reward;" and ourLord himself, "for the joy that was set before him, " endured the cross. Let us not then attempt a better method than God has sanctioned; and inour intercourse with the young, let us not only deter them from thecommission of evil by the fear of disfavour or the rod, but let us alsoincite them to virtue, by the hope of approbation and of a futurereward. 3. In our enquiry into the practical working of the moral sense, wefound, not only that there were motives of action employed forencouraging the pupil to virtue, and for deterring him from vice; but wefound also, that these motives referred chiefly to God, to a futurejudgment, and to eternity. In our attempts to imitate Nature in thisparticular feature of her dealing with the moral sense, we begin moredistinctly to perceive the high value of Religious Instruction to theyoung, and are led directly to the conclusion, that the motives to beemployed with children for encouraging and rewarding good conduct, mustbe those chiefly of a spiritual kind, referring to God, and to hisfavour or disapprobation, rather than to the rod, or to any secularreward. The importance of imitating Nature in this matter, for giving ahigh tone both to the sentiments and to the morals of the young, is verygreat. It is now generally admitted, that secular, and especiallycorporal punishments, are never required, except in connection with avery low and degraded state of the moral sentiments; but it is equallycorrect with respect to secular rewards for moral actions. They may bothof them at times be necessary, but in that case they are necessaryevils; and, as a class of motives, they should never be the rule, butinvariably the exception. --We must not, however, be misunderstood. Weare no more for abandoning _secular rewards_, than we are for giving upcorporal punishments. We speak not here of their _abandonment_, but oftheir _enlightened regulation_;--both of them may be of service. Butwhat we wish to point out as an important feature in moral training is, that they are, or should be, but seldom necessary; and that they oughtnever to be resorted to except when they really are so. The differencesobservable in the results arising from _secular_, and those from _moral_motives, are very different, both as regards their power in restrainingfrom vice, and their influence in stimulating to virtue. What, forexample, would we think of the moral condition of a child, or of thevirtue of his actions, if he had to be hired by a comfit, or a piece ofmoney, to do every act of kindness which he performed; or if he refusedto relieve a sister, or prevent an injury to his companion, unlesssimilarly rewarded? This secular spirit in morals, when thus exposed inits deformity, is obnoxious to every sentiment of virtue, and shewsitself to be a mere system of buying and selling. But how very differentdoes the reward appear, and the feeling which it excites, when thatreward assumes the moral character, and is found to be the desire ofpleasing the parent, and much more when it seeks the approbation of theAlmighty? Every one will see how beneficial and elevating the effects ofcherishing the one must be, and how debasing comparatively is theinfluence of the other. That children are capable of being acted upon bythese higher motives, we have already seen; and, when we aim at securingthe effects which they are calculated to produce, we are closelyimitating Nature in one of her most important operations, and maytherefore calculate upon a corresponding degree of success. [25] 4. In the operations of Nature by means of the moral sense, we found, that the impressions made upon the mind in reference to sin or duty, were always most efficient, and most permanent, when the sin or duty waspresented to them in the form of example;--that the example increased inefficiency and interest as it was familiar or near;--and that it becamestill more powerful when it was actually seen or experienced. --Fromthese circumstances we are led to conclude, that the lives and conductof men, and especially the narrative parts of Scripture, are the propermaterials to be employed in the moral training of the young; and themode of making use of them is also very plainly indicated. The closer wecan bring the lesson taught to the child's own experience, or to his owncircumstances, the more familiar will it become, and the deeper will bethe impression it will make. An instance of infant disinterestedness orheroism, in the parlour or the play-ground, pointed out, and placed inconnection with corresponding circumstances in the lives or conduct ofthose from whom they have previously drawn moral lessons, will renderthe latter much more familiar and practical, and will create moreenergetic desires, and stronger feelings of emulation with respect tothe former. Or if the conduct of the person of whom the child hears orreads, can be brought home and applied to his own case andcircumstances; or if he can be made to perceive the very samedispositions or conduct exhibited in his companions; or if he can bemade to see how he himself can embody in his own conduct thoseprinciples and actions which God has approved, and requires to beimitated, --the end of the teacher will be much more certainly gained, than it can be in any other way. This is moral training, conducted bythe proper moral means; and to attempt to gain the same end by meanswhich do not either more or less embody these principles, will be foundto be much more difficult, and much less efficient. Whoever willconsider what is implied by our Lord's address to the Pharisees whoerroneously blamed his disciples for unlawfully, as they thought, plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath, will see this method ofreading and applying Scripture distinctly pointed out. "Have ye neverread, " said our Lord, "what David did, and those who were with him?"This they might have done frequently; but the mere reading could neveranswer the purpose for which it was recorded. The moral lesson must bedrawn, and it must also be applied to similar cases of mere ceremonialobservance. To apply this principle, then, to the moral training of the young bymeans of Scripture History, the method is obvious. --The events of thenarrative are to be used as examples or warnings to the child incorresponding circumstances. If, for example, the teacher wishes toenforce the duty and the benefits of patience, the history of Job hasbeen provided for the purpose. When that story is taught, and thelessons drawn and applied to the ordinary contingencies of life, such asaccident, disease, or distress in a companion; or to circumstances inwhich the child himself may hereafter be placed; he will be betterprepared for his duty in such events, or, in the words of Scripture, hewill be "thoroughly furnished" to this good work. If they are to betaught meekness, the history of Moses, or of other pious men who havebeen tried and disciplined as he was, will be found best adapted for thepurpose. And more especially, the life of our Lord, in which all thevirtues concentrate, has been given "as our example, that we may followhis steps, " and which ought especially to be employed in training theyoung "to love and to good works. " The reason why example is preferableto precept in teaching children, will be obvious, when we consider thenature of the principle of grouping, as exercised by the young, and thedifficulty they experience in remembering abstract or didactic subjects. When a child receives instruction by a story, the imagination isenlisted in the exercise, the grouping of the persons and circumstancesassists the memory, and the moral and practical lessons which they havedrawn from the narrative, are associated with it, and remain ready atthe command of the will whenever they are required. --It was for thisreason among others, that our Lord taught so frequently by parables;and, in doing so, has not only set the parent and teacher an importantexample, but has, in his teaching, illustrated a principle in our naturewhich he himself had long before implanted for this very purpose. 5. In our investigations into the working of the moral sense, we found, that there was a marked difference between the decisions of consciencewhen judging of actions done by _ourselves_, and those which wereperformed by _others_. As long as the child is innocent of anyparticular vice, he can judge impartially of its nature and demerit; butwhen the temptation to commit it has really begun to darken his mind, and more particularly when he has at last fallen before it, all theselfish principles of his nature are employed to deceive his betterjudgment, and to drown or overbear the voice of conscience within him. From this we learn the importance of preparing the mind _beforehand_, for encountering those temptations to which the pupil will most likelybe exposed; not only by teaching him to draw the proper lessons fromcorresponding subjects, but by making him apply these lessons to his owncase and affairs. The teacher is to suppose circumstances, in which he, his parents, and companions, are most likely to be placed, and in whichthe lessons drawn from the narrative will be required to weaken or toprevent the influences of temptation. As, for example, it might beasked, "If you had accidentally broken a pane of glass, and your parentsasked you who did it, what should you do?" There would in this case, while it was only supposed, be no temptation to stifle conscience, or tobend to the influences of selfishness or fear, and the child wouldaccordingly answer readily, that he ought to confess his fault, and tellthat he himself had done it. When again asked, "From what do you getthat lesson?" he will most probably reply, "From Jacob telling a lie tohis parent;--from Ananias and Sapphira telling a lie;--from the command, 'Lie not one to another, ' and 'Confess your faults one to another, '" &c. By this means the child is forewarned;--he is prepared and fortifiedagainst the sin, if the temptation should occur; but which would nothave been the case without this or some similar exercise. 6. We have also seen, in our investigations into the working of themoral sense, the deplorable effects of stifling conscience, and of thechild's being permitted to repeat his transgressions; while, upon thesame principle, the most beneficial consequences result from the child'sfrequently practising self-denial, self-controul, and acts ofbenevolence. In the one case, sin and vice lose much of their deformity, and gain greatly in strength; while, in the other, every act of virtuemakes vice appear more hideous, and excites to a more decided advance inthe paths of rectitude. From these circumstances we are led toconclude, that every act of sin in the pupil ought to be carefullyguarded against by the parent or teacher, and, if possible, prevented;while every exertion ought to be made to induce to the performance ofgood and kind actions, however humble or unimportant these actions inthemselves may be. If God does "not despise the day of small things, "neither should we; and one act of kindness by a child, however trifling, will most assuredly prepare the way for another. This circumstance alsoshews the impropriety of attempting to magnify faults, when perhaps nofault was designed; and the evil consequences, as well as the injustice, of refraining to commend a child, when commendation is due. The timorousfear, in many conscientious parents, of making children _vain_, is thecommon excuse for this unnatural conduct. Such persons seem to confoundthings _vain_ with things _valuable_, though they are perfectly opposedto each other. Approbation for any definite quality, excites theindividual to excel in _that_ quality, whether it be worthless orotherwise. But virtuous deeds are not worthless; and by commending, asour Lord repeatedly did, those who have done well, they, by thatprinciple of our nature of which we are here speaking, are stronglyexcited to do better. To feed vanity, is to commend vanities; and theywho prize and commend beauty, or fashion, or dress, or frivolousaccomplishments, may be guilty of this folly; but not the parent or theperson who commends in a child those things which are reallycommendable, and after which it is his greatest glory to aspire. 7. We have already taken notice of Nature's mode of employing motivesfor the prevention of evil, and for the encouragement of the child invirtue, and how this is to be imitated in the education of the young;but we have left for this last section, and for separate consideration, the greatest and most powerful motive of all. This is a view of theinherent sinfulness and danger of sin, and the means appointed by Godfor man's redemption from it. All other motives to restrain men fromsin, and to induce them to follow holiness, when compared with anenlightened view of this one, sink into insignificance. God's hatred ofsin, and his holy abhorrence of it in every form, when contemplated inthe abstract, may have a response from the head of him who compares itwith his own detestation of meanness, and fraud, and profligacy; butwhen this hatred of vice in the Almighty is viewed in connection withgospel truth, and is contemplated in its effects upon One to whom it wasonly imputed, it begins to wear a very different complexion; and, as amotive to beware of that which God is determined to punish, and which hewould not pass over even in his own Son, it leaves all other motives atan immeasurable distance. The same thing may be said of God's goodnessand mercy in the gospel, as a motive for us to love him, and to glory indenying ourselves to serve him. The extent of the danger from which hehas saved us, the amount and the permanence of the glory which he hasprocured for us, and the price that was paid for both, will powerfully"constrain" spiritual minds, to "live no longer to themselves, but tohim who hath died for them. " But the question which will be asked here is, "Are children capable ofall this?"--We unhesitatingly answer, from long experience, that theyare. Whoever doubts the fact has only to try. Can a child not understandthat a distinction ought to be made between the person in a family whoendeavours to make all happy, and another whose constant aim is to makethem all miserable?--Can he not understand, that the parent who refusesto punish a wicked child, is in effect bribing others to join him in hiswickedness?--Can he not understand that a debt due by one, may be paidby another?--and that a simple reliance on the word of his benefactor, followed by submission to his will, may be all that is required tosecure his discharge?--No one will say that a child is incapable ofunderstanding these simple truths; and if he can comprehend _them_, hecan be made to understand and appreciate the leading truths of thegospel. The teacher has only himself clearly to perceive them; and then, divesting the truths of those unnecessary technicalities which aresometimes, it is feared, used very improperly and unnecessarily, heought to convey them to the child, either orally, or by some simplecatechism suited for the purpose. Wherever this is done in effect, thereeducation will prosper; and when it shall become general among theyoung, it will be found to be "as life from the dead. " FOOTNOTES: [23] See pages 111 to 129 [24] Note X. [25] Note Y. CHAP. X. _On the Application of our Knowledge to the Common Affairs of Life. _ There is another point connected with the practical use of ourknowledge, which deserves a separate and careful consideration. It isthe method of applying our knowledge, or rather the lessons derived fromour knowledge, to the common and daily affairs of life. In this exerciseboth old and young are equally concerned;--but it is evident that youthis the proper time for training to its practice. To acquire this valuable art, the pupils in every seminary ought to beregularly and frequently exercised in the application of theirlessons;--first, when they have been drawn from a particular subject, which has occupied their attention for the day; and afterwardsgenerally, from any part of their previous knowledge. To illustrate whatwe mean by this application of our knowledge, let us suppose a personplaced in difficult circumstances, and that he is desirous of knowingthe path of duty, and the particular line of conduct which he shouldpursue. If he is to trust to himself for the information required, it isevident that he must either fall back upon his previous knowledge, andthe instructions he has already received; or he must go forward upon amere conjecture, or on chance, which is always dangerous. All knowledgeis given expressly for such cases, and especially Scripture knowledge;the great design of which is, "that the man of God may be thoroughlyfurnished to good works. " But if the person has not been trained to makeuse of his knowledge in this way and for this purpose, he will be nearlyas much at a loss as if his knowledge had never been received. Hence thegreat importance of training the young early and constantly to draw upontheir knowledge for direction and guidance in every variety of situationin which the parent or teacher can suppose them to be placed in futurelife. By this means they will be prepared for encountering temptation, which is often more than the half of the battle;--they will form thehabit of acting by rule, instead of being carried forward by fashion, byprejudice, or by chance;--and they will soon acquire a manly confidence, in deciding and acting, both as to the matter and the manner, ofperforming all that they are called upon to do, in every juncture, andwhether the duty be important in the ordinary sense of that term orotherwise. For this special mode of applying knowledge, we have not only theindications plainly given in Nature, which we have endeavoured toillustrate, but we have also Scripture precept, and Scripture example. Leaving the numerous instances in the Old Testament, we shall confineourselves to a few given by our Lord himself, and his apostles. Forexample, he prepared his disciples for the temptations which the love ofworldly goods would throw in the way of their escape from thedestruction of Jerusalem, by enjoining them to "Remember Lot's wife. "Now let us observe how a teacher, in communicating the history of Lot'swife for the first time, would have prepared these disciples for such adifficulty in the same way. When they had read, that while fleeing forher life, the love of her worldly goods made her sinfully look back, sothat she was turned into a pillar of salt; the obvious lesson drawn fromthis would be, that "we ought to be on our guard against worldlymindedness;"--and the _application_ of that lesson to the comingcircumstances would have been something like this. "When you arecommanded to flee from Jerusalem for your lives, and remember that yourworldly goods are left behind, what should you do?"--"We should not turnback for them. " "From what do you get that lesson?"--"From the conductand fate of Lot's wife. " In a similar way, the apostle James prepared Christians for humbleresignation and patient endurance under coming trials, by calling totheir remembrance "the patience of Job. " He stated the trials to whichthey were to be exposed, and then he directed their attention to theScripture example which was to regulate them in their endurance of them. Now it is obvious that a teacher, in communicating the history of Job tothe young, should follow this example, and should make the same use ofit that the apostle did, not only by drawing the lesson, that he "oughtto be patient, " but in _applying_ that lesson to temptations to whichthe child is likely to be exposed, as James did to the circumstances inwhich he knew Christians were to be placed. As for example, when thechild had drawn the lesson, that "we should be patient under suffering, "the teacher might apply it in a great variety of ways, each of whichwould be a delightful exercise of mind to the child, --would impress thelesson and its source more firmly upon the memory, --and would preparehim for the circumstances in which the lesson might be required. Werethe teacher accordingly to ask, "If you were confined by long continuedsickness;--or if you were suffering under great pain;--or if you wereoppressed by the cruelty of others, and could not help yourself;--or, ifyou were grieved by being separated from your friends, --what would beyour duty?" The answer to each would be, "We ought to bepatient. "--"From what do you get that lesson?"--"From the conduct ofJob, who was patient under his sufferings. " The apostle Paul follows a similar plan, in applying the practicallessons drawn from the conduct of the Israelites in the wilderness, forfortifying the Corinthians against temptations to which they were likelyto be exposed, [26] and tells them that this is the use to be made of OldTestament history. These lives are "ensamples, " and are "written for ouradmonition upon whom the ends of the world are come. "--In like manner heforewarned the Hebrews against discontent and covetousness, [27] bydrawing a _general_ lesson from a _special_ promise made to Joshua; andthen exhorts every Christian to apply it to himself personally, byemploying the language which he puts into their mouths, "The Lord is myhelper, and I will not fear what man can do unto me. " In the same way, when our Lord repeatedly says, "Have ye not read?" and, "Thus it is written, " he gives us obvious indications of the importanceof the duty of thus preparing for temptation, by the application of ourlessons from Scripture. They are each and all of them examples ofpractical lessons derived from knowledge formerly acquired, and nowemployed in the way of application, to connect that knowledge withcorresponding circumstances as they occur in ordinary life. The lesson, it will be observed, and as we formerly explained, is always made theconnecting link which unites the two; and without which there is no suchthing as the bringing of knowledge and its use together, when thatknowledge is required. In other words, without the lesson, knowledge is_useless_; and, without the application of the lesson, knowledge is_never used_. Both therefore are necessary, and both should be renderedfamiliar to the young. It is only necessary here to observe, that inteaching the children to _draw_ the lessons, the teacher proceedsforwards from the knowledge communicated, and, by deducing the lesson, prepares the child for the events in life when they shall benecessary;--but in _applying_ the lessons, he proceeds backwards, fromthe events, through the lesson to the knowledge from which it isderived. We have a beautiful example of this in the recorded temptationsof our Lord. He was tempted to turn stones into bread; here was theevent which required a knowledge of the corresponding duty; and heimmediately applied the lesson that "we should not distrust God, " andthrough this lesson, though not expressed, he went directly back to thesource from which it was drawn, by saying, "Thus it is written, Manshall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God. " When in likemanner he was tempted to throw himself from the temple, he immediately, through the lesson "that we should not unnecessarily presume on thegoodness of God, " went to the passage of Scripture from which it wasdrawn;--and, in the same way, when tempted to worship Satan, there wasprecisely the same process;--a lesson, derived from previous knowledgeand applicable to the circumstances, used as a uniting link to make theduty and the Scripture exactly to correspond. Of doing all this which we have described above; even children arecapable. This has been again and again proved by repeated experiments, and now by extensive experience in many schools. The difficulties ofintroducing it, even for the first time in any seminary, do not lie withthe children, who in every case have shewn themselves quite adequate tothe exercise; and wherever it has been followed up with correspondingenergy, they have been raised much higher in the grade of intelligenceand mental capacity by its means. This will be evident from thefollowing, taken from among many examples. The criminals in Edinburgh Jail during the short time they were underinstruction, acquired considerable facility in this valuable art. Thereport states, that "some of them were afterwards exercised on theapplication of the lessons. This part consists in supposing certaincircumstances and temptations, to which they may be exposed in ordinarylife, and then leaving them, by a very profitable, and usually a verypleasant operation of their own minds, in reference to these, to call upto their recollection, and to hold in review, the whole accumulatedrange of their previous knowledge. Among the various classes of thingsthus brought in order before the eye of the mind, they are easily taughtto discriminate all those precepts and examples which are analogous tothe cases supposed, from which again they very readily selectappropriate lessons to _guide them in these emergencies_; thus linkingthe lessons to the circumstances, which is done in the previous exerciseof deducing them; and then the circumstances to the lessons; and in thismanner, establishing a double tie between the understanding and theconscience. "For example, a woman from the Lock-up House, being asked how she oughtto conduct herself when the term of her confinement was expired?answered, That she ought not to return to her sinful courses, or wickedcompanions, lest a worse fate should befal her. When again interrogatedwhere she got this lesson, she immediately referred to the case of Lot, who, being once rescued from captivity by Abraham, returned again towicked Sodom, where he soon lost all his property, and escaped only withhis life. Another being asked what she should do, when involved in aquarrel with troublesome companions? replied, That she should endeavourto be at peace, even though she should lose a little by it; andproduced as her authority the conduct of Abraham, who when Lot'sherdsmen and his could not agree, gave Lot his choice of the country, inorder to secure peace. " The children in Aberdeen also found no difficulty in perceiving the use, and in applying the lessons to their common affairs. The report of thatExperiment states, that "the most important part of the exercise, --thatwhich shewed more particularly the great value of this System, and withwhich the Meeting were especially struck, --was the appropriateapplication of the lessons from Scripture, which they had previouslydrawn. They were desired to suppose themselves placed in a great varietyof situations, and were asked how they ought to conduct themselves ineach of these. A few examples may be given, though it is quiteimpossible to do justice to the subject. A boy, for instance, was asked, 'If your parents should become infirm and poor, how ought you to acttowards them?' 'I ought, ' replied the boy, 'to work, and help them. ' Andbeing asked, 'Whence he drew that lesson?' he referred to the conduct ofRuth, who supported Naomi and herself, by gleaning in the fields. --Agirl was asked, 'If your mother were busy, and had more to do in thefamily than she could easily accomplish, what ought you to do?' Heranswer was, 'I ought to give her assistance;' and she referred to theconduct of Saul, in assisting his father to recover the asses which werelost; and to that of David, in feeding his father's sheep when hisbrothers were at the wars. --A little boy was asked, 'If your parentswere too indulgent, and seemed to give you all your own will, what oughtyou to do?' 'I ought not to take it, ' replied the boy very readily; andadded, that it was taking his own will that caused the ruin of theprodigal son. Another boy being asked, 'If you should become rich, whatwould be your duty to the poor?' answered, 'I ought to be good to thepoor; but it would be better to give them work than to give them money;for Boaz did not give Ruth grain, but bade his shearers let some fall, that she might get it by her own industry. '" In the Experiment in London, a child was asked, "When you live withbrothers and sisters who are wicked, what should you do?" and answered, "I should not join with them in their sins. " And when asked where shegot that lesson, answered, "From Joseph, who would not join with hisbrothers in their sin. "--Another was asked, "When you see others goingheedlessly on in the commission of sin, what should you do?" andanswered, "I should warn them of their danger;" and referred to Noah, who warned the wicked while building the ark. --Again, "When people aboutyou are given to quarrel, what should you do?" We should endeavour tomake peace; and referred to Abram endeavouring to remain at peace withLot's herdsmen. --"When you have grown up to be men and women, whatshould you do?" "We should go to a trade, and be industrious;" andreferred to Cain and Abel following their different employments. --"Whentwo situations occur, one where you will get more money, but where thepeople are wicked and ungodly; and the other, where you will get lessmoney, but have better company, which should you choose?" "The goodcompany, though with less money;" and referred to Lot's desire forriches taking him to live in wicked Sodom, where he lost all that hehad. --"When your parents get old, and are unable to support themselves, what should you do?" "We should work for them;" and referred to Ruthgleaning for the support of her old mother-in-law; and another referredto Joseph bringing his father to nourish him in Goshen. --"When yourparents or masters give you any important work or duty to perform, whatshould you do?" "We should pray to God for success, and for hisdirection and help in performing it;" and referred to Abraham's servantpraying at the well. --"When we find people wishing to take advantage ofus and cheat us, what should we do?" "Leave them;" and referred to Jacobwith his family leaving Laban. --"Were any one to tempt you to lie orcommit a sin, what should you do?" "We ought not to be tempted;" andreferred to Abraham making Sarah tell a lie in Egypt. --"How should youbehave to strangers?" "We should be kind to them;" and referred to Lotlodging the angels. --"Were a master or mistress to have the choice oftwo servants, one clever, but ungodly, and the other not so clever, butpious, which one should be chosen?" "The pious servant;" and referred toPotiphar, whom God blessed and prospered for Joseph's sake. --"When anyone has injured us, what should we do?" "Forgive them;" and referred toJoseph forgiving and nourishing his brethren. --"When you have onceescaped the snares and designs of bad company, what should you do?" "Weshould never go back again;" and referred to Lot going back again tolive in Sodom from which he at last escaped only with his life. In the account given of the Newry Experiment, the boys were equallyready in applying for their own benefit the lessons they had drawn fromtheir knowledge of anatomy and physiology. The account says, that "themost interesting, as well as the most edifying part of the examination, and which exhibited the great value of this method of teaching thesciences to the young, was the _application_ of these lessons to thecircumstances of ordinary life. Circumstances were supposed, in whichthey or others might be placed, and they were required to apply thelessons they had drawn for their direction, and for regulating theirconduct in every such case. This they did with great sagacity, andevident delight, and in a manner which convinced the audience that thefew hours during which they had been employed in making theseacquisitions, instead of being irksome and laborious, as education istoo often considered by the young, were obviously among the happiest andthe shortest they had ever spent in almost any employment, --their playnot excepted. We shall give a specimen of these, and the answers given, as nearly as can be recollected. "The case of walking in a frosty day was supposed, and they were askedwhat, in that case, ought to be done? The answer was, That we shouldtake care not to fall. Why? Because the bones are easily broken infrosty weather. --When heated and feverish in a close room, what shouldbe done? Let in fresh air; because it is the want of oxygen in the airwe breathe that causes such a feeling, but which the admission of freshair supplies. --When troubled with listlessness, and impeded circulation, what should we do? Take exercise; because the contraction of the musclesby walking, working, or otherwise, forces the blood to the heart, andthrough the lungs, by which health and vigour is promoted. --Where shouldwe take exercise? In the country, or in the open air; because there theair is purer than in a house or a town, where fires, smoke, frequentbreathing, and other things, render the atmosphere unwholesome. --Wouldbreathing rapidly, without exercise, not nourish the blood equally well?No; because although more air be drawn into the lungs, there would be nomore blood to combine with its oxygen. --What should be done, whencandles in a crowded church burn dim, although they do not needsnuffing? Let in fresh air; because the air is then unwholesome for wantof oxygen; which, carried to a great extent, would cause fainting in thepeople, and would extinguish the candles themselves. --When a fire islike to go out, what should be done? Blow it up with bellows. Why not bythe mouth? Because the air blown from the lungs has lost great part ofits oxygen, by which alone the fire burns. Why then does a fire blownwith the mouth burn at all? Because part of the oxygen remains, said oneboy; and another added, "and because part of the surrounding air isblown in along with it. " At the second meeting with these boys, occasioned by the unexpectedcircumstances formerly alluded to, they were summarily, and withoutprevious notice, taken from their school to another public meeting, without knowing for what purpose they were brought, and had to undergo astill more searching examination on what they had been previouslytaught. Here again they shewed their dexterity in making use of theirlessons, by the application of them, and proved that they had been doingso to themselves in the intercourse which they had had with theirrelations at home. The account goes on to say, that "they were then morefully and searchingly examined than at first; and there being more time, they were much longer under the exercise. It was then found, that theinformation formerly communicated was not only remembered, but that theseveral truths were much more familiar, in themselves and in theirconnection with each other, than they had been at the former meeting. This had evidently arisen from their own frequent meditations upon themsince that time, and their application of the several lessons, eitherwith one another, their parents, or themselves. The medical gentlemenwere again present, and professed themselves equally pleased. Thelessons, _with considerable additions_, were also given, and theapplications especially were greatly extended. In these last theyappeared to be perfectly at home; and relevant circumstances might havebeen multiplied for double the time, without their having any difficultyin applying the lessons, and giving a reason for their application. " But the most satisfactory of all the experiments on this point, asimplying the possession of a well-cultivated mind, holding at command anextensive field of useful knowledge, was the one in Leith, althoughfrom accident, or inadvertence on the part of the reporter, a largeportion of it has been lost to the public. The following fragment, however, will be sufficient to shew its nature and its value. Theexaminator wished "to ascertain the power which the children possessedof applying the passage to their own conduct; and for this purpose, heproposed several circumstances in which they might be placed, and askedthem to show how this portion of Scripture directed them toact. --Supposing, said he, that your father and mother were to neglect totake you to church next Sunday, would that be wrong?--Yes. --From what doyou get that lesson? And when he was twelve years old, they went up toJerusalem after the custom of the feast. --Is it right that childrenshould go to church with their parents? Yes. --Why? Because Jesus wentwith his parents. --Would it be right for you to go out of church duringthe time of the service? No. --Why? Joseph and Mary remained till theservice was over. "The next point to be ascertained was, whether the children were able, not only to perceive what passages of Scripture were applicable inparticular circumstances, but also to find out what circumstances inlife those passages might be applied to. For this purpose, Mr Gallasked, 'Could you tell me any circumstances which may happen, in whichyou may be called on to remember that Joseph and Mary attended publicworship?'--If a friend were to take dinner or tea with us, that shouldnot detain us from attending church. --Idle amusements should not detainus from church; and nothing should keep us from it but sickness. "Mr Gall again expressed his unabated satisfaction at the results of theexamination, in proving the intellectual acquirements of the children. But so important did the application of the lessons appear to him, thathe must trespass still further upon the time of the meeting by a moresevere test of the children's practical training on this particularpoint. It was a test which he believed to be altogether new to them; butif they should succeed, it will prove still more satisfactorily, thattheir knowledge of Scripture has made it become, in reality, a light totheir feet, and a lamp to their path. "Mr Gall then produced a little narrative tract, which he read aloud tothe children; and after the statement of each moral circumstancedetailed in it, he asked the children whether it was right or wrong. When the children answered that it was _right_, he required them toprove that it was so, by some statement in the word of God, because theBible should to them, and to every Christian, be the _only_ standard ofwhat is right and wrong; and so, in the same manner, when they said thatit was _wrong_, he required them also to prove it from Scripture. "As soon as the children perceived what was wanted, passages ofScripture, both of precept and example, were brought forward with asmuch readiness and discrimination as before. The only exception, was oneor two quotations from the Shorter Catechism in proof of theirpositions, which were of course rejected, as deficient of the requiredauthority. " The concluding remarks by the Right Honourable and Reverend reporters ofthe Experiment in Edinburgh, may with propriety be here given, as it isapplicable, not only to prison discipline, but to education in general. "The result of this important experiment, " they say, "was, in everypoint, satisfactory. Not only had much religious knowledge been acquiredby the pupils, and that of the most substantial, and certainly the leastevanescent kind; but it appeared to have been acquired with ease, andeven with satisfaction--a circumstance of material importance in everycase, but especially in that of adult prisoners. But the most uncommonand important feature of it was, the readiness which they, in thisshort period, had acquired of deducing _Practical Lessons_ from whatthey had read or heard, for the regulation of their conduct. Everyleading circumstance in Scripture, by this peculiar feature of theSystem, was made to reflect its light on the various common occurrencesof ordinary life, by which the pupils themselves were enabled to judgeof the real nature of each particular act, and to adopt, or to shun it, as the conscience thus enlightened should dictate. The acting andre-acting, indeed, of every branch of the System, upon each other, interweaves so thoroughly the lessons of Scripture with the feelings andthoughts of their minds, and associates them so closely with the commoncircumstances of life, that it is almost impossible that either theportions of the Bible which they have thus learned, or the practicallessons thus drawn from them, should, at any future period, escape fromtheir remembrance. The evolutions of their future life, will disclosecircumstances which they are prepared to meet, by having lessons laid upin store, adapted to such occurrences; and especially, when the mentalhabit is formed of applying Scripture in this manner, there is scarcelyan event which can happen, but against its tempting influence they willbe fortified by the armour of divine truth. --Their compliance withtemptation, should that take place, will not be done without acompunction of conscience, arising from some pointed and warning examplethat comes in all its urgency before their minds;--and they will, whenseduced from rectitude, have a light within them, and a clue of divinetruth, to guide them out of the dark and mazy labyrinth of error andcrime, into the path of duty and virtue. It is God alone that can blesssuch instruction, and render it savingly efficacious; but surely theinference is fair, that this System furnishes us with an instrument, which, if skilfully employed, will effect all that man can do for hiserring brother or sister. " FOOTNOTES: [26] 1 Cor. X. 1-11. [27] Heb. Xiii. 5, 6 CHAP. XI. _On the Imitation of Nature, in training her Pupils fluently tocommunicate their Knowledge. _ There is a fourth, or supplementary process in Nature's educationalcourse, the successful imitation of which promises to be of greatgeneral benefit, as soon as it shall be universally adopted in ourelementary schools. It is, as it were, the door-way of intellect, --thebreak in the cloud, through which the sun-light of concocted knowledgeis to find its way, to enlighten and cheer the general community. --Werefer to that acquirement, by which persons are enabled, withoutdistraction of mind, internally to prepare and arrange their ideas, atthe moment they are verbally communicating them to others. When this process is analysed, we find, as explained in a formerchapter, that it consists simply in an ability to think, and to arrangeour thoughts at the time we are speaking;--to exercise the mind on oneset of ideas, at the moment we are giving expression to another. Simpleas this at first sight may appear, we have seen that it is but verygradually arrived at;--that many persons, otherwise possessing greatabilities, never can command it;--that it is altogether an acquisitiondepending upon the use of proper means;--but that, at the same time, anyperson whatever, by submitting to the appropriate discipline, may attainalmost any degree of perfection in its exercise. The object required bythe teacher, therefore, is a series of exercises, by means of which hispupils will be trained to think and to speak at the same moment; to havetheir minds busily occupied with some object or idea, while their powersof speech are engaged in giving utterance to something else. For thepurpose of suggesting such an exercise, we shall again attend shortly tothe exhibition of the process, as we find it under the superintendenceof Nature. An infant, as we formerly explained, can for a long period utter onlyone or two words at a time, --not because it is unacquainted with more, but because it has not yet acquired the power of thinking the secondword, while it is giving utterance to the first. It has to attain, bysteady practice, and by slow degrees, the ability of commanding thethoughts, while uttering two, three, or more words consecutively, without a pause. A child also, whose mind is engaged with its toys, cannot for some time, during its early mental advances, attend to aspeaker; much less can it think of, and arrange an answer to a question, while it continues its play. It has to stop, and think; it then givesthe information required; and after this it will perhaps resume itsplay, but not sooner. When a child can speak and continue itsamusements, it is an evidence of considerable mental power; and asNature makes use of its play, for the purpose of increasing thisability, the teacher, and especially the parents, ought to excite andencourage every attempt at conversation while the pupil is so employed. But our object at present is to arrive at one or more regular exercisesthat shall embody the principle; exercises which may at all times be atthe command, and under the controul of the teacher and parent, and whichmay form part of the daily useful arrangements of the school or thefamily. The following are a few, among many, which we shall brieflynotice, before introducing one which promises to be still morebeneficial, and more generally applicable to the economy of literarypursuits, and the arrangements of the academy. One of the exercises which assists in attaining the end here in view, wehave already alluded to, as being successfully employed by Nature forthe purpose, --that is, the child's play. Any amusement which requiresthought or attention, is well calculated to answer this purpose, --andif the child can be induced and trained to speak and play at the sametime, his thinking powers being occupied by the external use of histoys, the end of the teacher will in so far be gained. Questions put toa child at that time, and answers given by him while he continues toexercise his mind upon his amusements, will prepare the way, and greatlyassist in giving him the power of exercising it upon ideas, without thehelp of these external and tangible objects. The principle in both casesis the same, although in the one it is not carried out to the sameextent as it is in the other. And here we cannot help remarking, howextensive and important a field the working of this principle opens upto the ingenious toy-man. If a game, or games, can be invented, wherethe child must have his attention occupied with one object, while he isobliged to answer questions, or to make observations, or to detailfacts, or in any other way to employ his speaking powersextemporaneously, (not repeating words by rote, ) the person who does sowill greatly edify the young, and benefit the public. Another method by which the principle may be called into exercise, is totell a short story, or simple anecdote, and then to require the child torehearse it again. In doing this, the mind of the child is employed incommuning with the memory, while he is engaged in detailing to theteacher or monitor, the special circumstances in their order. Upon theprinciples of individuation and grouping, too, (the two most importantprinciples, be it observed, which Nature employs with young children, )we can perceive, that it will be much easier for the child, and at leastequally powerful in producing the effect, if the teacher or parent shallconfine himself to one or two stories or anecdotes at a time, till, byrepeated attempts, the child can in its own words, and in its own way, readily and fluently detail the whole of the circumstances to theparent or teacher, whenever required. A similar mode of accomplishing the same object, when the child is ableto read, is, to require him at home to peruse a story of some length, and to rehearse what he can remember of it next day. This ought, however, in every case to be a narrative, or anecdote, consisting ofgroupings which the child can, on reading, picture on his mind. If thisbe neglected, there is danger of the child's being harassed andburdened, without any corresponding benefit being produced. It is herealso worthy of remark, that Dr Mayo's "Lessons on Objects" may beemployed for this purpose with considerable effect. If a list ofqualities, such as colour, consistence, texture, &c. Be put into thechild's hand, and he be required to elucidate and rehearse thoserelating to one particular object, either placed before him, or, what isbetter, one with which he is acquainted, but which at the time he doesnot see, the eye and the mind will be engaged with his paper, and inrecollecting the particular qualities of the object, at the same timethat he is employed in communicating his recollections. Another method for producing the same end, consists in the parent orteacher repeating a sentence to the child, and requiring him to rememberit, and to spell the several words in their order. Here the child has toremember the whole sentence, to observe the order of the several words, to chuse them one after another as he advances, and to remember andrehearse the letters of which each is composed. The mental exercise hereis exceedingly useful, besides the advantages of training children tocorrect spelling. At the commencement of this exercise with a child, thesentence must be short, and he may be permitted to repeat each wordafter he has spelled it, which will help him to remember the word thatfollows;--but as he advances, he may be made to spell the whole withoutpronouncing the words; and the length of the sentence may be made tocorrespond with his ability. Great care however should be taken by theteacher that this exercise be correctly performed. Many other methods for exercising the child's mind and oral powers atthe same moment, will be suggested by the ingenuity of teachers, and byexperience; and wherever a teacher hits upon one which he findsefficient, and which works well with his children, it is to be hopedthat he will not deprive others of its benefit. Such communications ineducation, like mercy, are twice blessed. But the exercise which, forits simplicity and power, as well as for the extent of its applicationto the business and arrangements of the school, appears to answer thepurpose best, and which embodies most extensively the stipulationsrequired for the successful imitation of Nature in this part of herprocess, is that which has been termed the "Paraphrastic Exercise. " Theexercise here alluded to has this important recommendation in itspractical working, that while it can be employed with the child who canread no more than a sentence, it may be so modified and extended, as toexercise the mental and oral powers of the best and cleverest of thescholars to their full extent. It consists in making a child read asentence or passage aloud; and, while he is doing so, in requiring himat the same moment, to be actively employed in detecting and throwingout certain specified words in the passage, and in selecting, arranging, and substituting others in their place; the child still keeping to theprecise meaning of the author, and studying and practising, as far aspossible, simplicity, brevity, elegance, and grammatical accuracy. Itmay be asked, "What child will ever be able to do this?" We answer withconfidence, that every sane pupil, by using the proper means, may attainit. This is no hypothesis, but a fact, of which the experiment in Leithgives good collateral proof, and of which long and uniform experiencehas afforded direct and ample evidence. Any teacher, or parent indeed, may by a single experiment upon the very dullest of his pupils who canread, be satisfied on the point. Such a child, by leaving out andparaphrasing first one word in a sentence, then two, three, or more, ashe acquires ability, will derive all the advantages above described;and, by advancing in the exercise, he may have his talents taxed duringthe whole progress of his education to the full extent of their powers. It is in this that one great recommendation lies to this exercise, --itbeing adapted to every grade of intellect, from the child who can onlyparaphrase a single word at a time, to the student who, while glancinghis eye over the passage, can give the scope of the whole in a perfectlynew form, and in a language and style entirely his own. Of the natureand versatility of this exercise we shall give a single example. Let us for this purpose suppose that a child sees in the first answer ofthe First Initiatory Catechism the words, "God at first created allthings to shew his greatness, " and that the teacher wishes to exercisehis mind in the way, and upon the principle of which we are herespeaking, by making him paraphrase it. He begins by ascertaining thatthe child knows the exact meaning of one or more of the several termsused in the sentence, and can give the meaning in other words. As forexample, he should be able to explain that the first word means, "theAlmighty;"--that the words at "first, " here signifies, at "the beginningof time;"--that "created" means, "brought into existence;"--that theterm "all things, " as here used, indicates, "all the worlds in Nature, with their inhabitants;"--that the phrase to "shew, " means to "exhibitto his rational creatures;"--and that his "greatness, " at the closeimplies, his "infinite majesty and perfections. " Now it must be obvious, that any one of these explanations may be madefamiliar to the dullest child that can read; and if _this_ can be done, the principle may immediately be brought into exercise. For example, when the child knows that the first word means "the Almighty, " and that"first" is another way of expressing "the beginning of time, " he isrequired to read the whole sentence, and in doing so, to throw out thesetwo words, and to substitute their meanings. He will then at once readthe sentence thus: "[The Almighty, ] at [the beginning of time, ] createdall things to shew his greatness. " The same thing may be done with anyone or more of the others; and if the child at first feels anydifficulty with two, the teacher has only, upon the principle ofindividuation, to make one of them familiar, before he be required toattend to a second; and to have two rendered easy before he goes forwardto the third. Each explanation can be mastered in its turn, and may thenbe employed in forming the paraphrase; by which means the child's mindis called to the performance of double duty, --reading from hisbook, --throwing out the required words, --remembering theirexplanations, --inserting them regularly and grammatically, --and perhapstransposing, and re-constructing the whole sentence, --at the moment thathe is giving utterance to that which the mind had previously arranged. The same thing may be done with a sentence from any book, although notso systematically prepared for the purpose as the Initiatory Catechismshave been. The explanations of any of the words which may be pointedout, or under-scored by the teacher, can easily be mastered in the usualway by any of the children capable of reading them; and if he shall begradually and regularly trained to do this frequently, his command ofwords, in expressing his _own_ ideas, and his ability to use themcorrectly, will very soon become extensive and fluent. The importance ofthis to the young is much more valuable and necessary than is generallysupposed. Nature evidently intends that childhood and youth should bethe seed-time of language; and the exercise here recommended, whenpersevered in, is well calculated to produce an abundant harvest ofwords, suited for all kinds of oral communications. --Its importance inthis respect, as well as its efficiency in fulfilling all thestipulations necessary for imitating Nature in the exercise of theprinciple which we are here illustrating, will be obvious to any readerby a very simple experiment. For this purpose the sentence which we have already employed may, forthe sake of illustration, be represented in the following form. --"[God]at [first] [created] all [things] to [shew] his [greatness. ]"--Here eachof the words, which we formerly supposed to be explained by the child, is inclosed in brackets. Now if the reader will be at the pains oftrying the experiment upon himself, and shall endeavour to observe thevarious operations of his own mind during it, he will at once perceivethe correctness of the above remarks. That he may have the full benefitof this experiment, he has only to fix upon any one--but only one--ofthe inclosed words in the above sentence, and having ascertained itsprecise meaning as before given, he must _read_ the sentence aloud fromthe beginning, following the words with his eye in the ordinary way, till he arrives at the word he has fixed on. This he leaves out, and inits stead inserts the explanation, and then goes on to read theremainder of the sentence. --At the first trial he will perhaps be ableto detect in his own mind some of the difficulties, which the lessmatured intellect of the young pupil has to encounter in his earlyattempts to succeed in the exercise; but he will also see, that it is adifficulty easily overcome when it is presented singly, and when thepupil is permitted to grapple with the paraphrasing of each word byitself. The reader will also be able to trace the operation of the youngmind while engaged with the explanations, which differ entirely fromthe words which he is at the moment looking upon and reading. He willobserve, that when the eye of the child arrives at the word fixed upon, he has to pause in his utterance for a moment, till the mind goes insearch of what it requires; in the same way, and upon precisely the sameprinciple, that an infant who has managed to speak one word, has tostop, and go in search of the next, and then to concentrate the powersof its mind upon it, before he can give it expression. But if the readerwill repeat the operation to himself upon the _same word_, till he canread its explanation in the sentence without difficulty and without apause; and then do the same with two, then with three, and so on, tillhe has completed the whole; he will be able to appreciate in somemeasure the importance of this exercise in training the young to such acommand of language, as will enable them, on all known subjects, todeliver fluently, and in any variety of form, the precise shade ofmeaning which they wish to express. This of itself will be a great attainment by the pupil; but it is notall. The reader will also perceive what must be the necessary result ofpersevering in this exercise, during the time of a child's attendance atschool, in training him to that calm self-possession, --that perfectcommand of the mind and the thoughts, --while engaged in speaking, whichthe frequent and gradually extended use of this exercise is so wellcalculated to afford. All the children of a school, without exception, may be exercised by its means, and upon the same paragraph; for while, by the paraphrasing of but one word in a clause, it is within the reachof the humblest intellect; yet, by the changes and transpositionsnecessary in more difficult passages, either to smooth asperities, or toavoid grammatical errors, it provides an extemporaneous exercise suitedto the talents of the highest grade in any seminary. The collateral advantages also of this exercise, are both valuable andextensive. The operation of the principle which supposes double duty bythe mind, enters into the nature of numerous acts in ordinary life, besides that of thinking and speaking, and which a perfect command ofthe thoughts in paraphrasing will tend greatly to facilitate. --Forexample, it will greatly assist the pupil in making observations duringconversation, in attending to the weak and strong points of an argument, and in preparing his materials for a reply, while he is all the timehearing and storing up the ideas of a speaker. --It will enable him moreextensively, and more deliberately to employ his mind on useful subjectswhile engaged with his work, even in those cases where a considerabledegree of thought is required;--and it will greatly aid him in acquiringthe art of "a ready writer, " and will be available, both when he himselfwrites his own thoughts, or when he requires to dictate them to others. Many persons who can express their ideas well enough by speech, findthemselves greatly at a loss when they sit down to write them;--and thisarises entirely from the want of that command of the mind which isnecessary whenever it is called on to do double duty. The person cannotthink of that which he wishes to write, and at the same moment guide thehand in writing; in the same way, and for the same reason, that a childcannot answer a question and yet continue his play. By the use of theparaphrastic exercise, however, the pupil will soon be enabled not onlyto concoct in his own mind what he intends to write, during the time heis writing; but the faculty may, by the same means, be cultivated tosuch an extent, that he may at last be able to dictate to two clerks ata time, and sometimes perhaps, (as it has been affirmed some have done)even to three. A similar collateral advantage, which will arise from the perseveringuse of the paraphrastic exercise, deserves a separate consideration. --Itwill gradually create a capacity to take written notes of a subject, either in the church, the senate, or the lecture room, during the timethat the speaker is engaged in delivering it. It is in the ability tohear and concoct in the mind one set of ideas, while writing down anentirely different set, that the whole art of accurate "reporting"consists. The writing part of the process is purely mechanical; theperfection of the art consists chiefly in the command which the reporteracquires over the powers of his mind. The person while so employed hasto hear and reiterate the ideas of the speaker as he proceeds; these hemust remember and arrange, selecting, abridging, condensing, orabandoning, according to the extent of his manual dexterity in writing. But it is worthy of remark, that if the person be able to think, --toexercise his mind, --and to continue to write without stopping while hedoes so, the _amount_ of what he writes is a mere accident, and depends, not upon the state of the mind, but upon the mechanical part of theoperation, which is aided by the arts of stenography and abbreviation. This mental capacity is most likely to be acquired by the regular andpersevering use of the paraphrastic exercise. It will train the pupil tothat command over his thoughts, which, with a little practice in thisparticular mode of applying it, will soon enable him, with perfectself-possession, to hear and to keep up with a speaker, while hecontinues without a pause, to write down as much of what has been said, as his command of the pen will allow. Without this mental ability, hecould not while listening write at all; but when it has beensufficiently acquired, there is no limit to his taking down all that isspoken, except what arises from the imperfection of the mechanical partof the process, --his manual dexterity. All these collateral advantageswill accrue to the pupils by the use of this exercise; and this latterone will be greatly promoted in a school by a piece of history, ananecdote, or a paragraph of any kind, which none of the pupils know, being read slowly for only a few minutes, while the whole of the pupilswho can write are required to take notes at the time, and to stop andgive them in, as soon as the reading is finished. [28] It is also here worthy of remark, --and it is perhaps another proof ofthe efficiency of the several exercises before enumerated as imitationsof Nature, --that they all, more or less, embody a portion of thisprinciple of double duty performed by the mind. In each of them, whenproperly conducted, the pupil is compelled to speak, and to think at thesame moment. Not a little of their efficiency and value indeed, may beattributed to this circumstance. In the catechetical exercise, forexample, it is not difficult to trace its operation. For in the attemptof the child to answer a question previously put to him, the teacherwill be at no loss to perceive the mind gradually acquiring an abilityto think of the original question and of the ideas contained in thesubject from which he has selected his answer, at the very moment he isgiving it utterance. And a knowledge of the fact should excite teachersin general, so to employ this exercise as to produce this effect. --Theanalytical exercise also, in its whole extent, calls into operation theworking of this principle, whether employed synthetically oranalytically. When children are employed with the analytical exerciseproper, --as in tracing a practical lesson backwards to the subject orcircumstance from which it has been drawn, and in attaching thatcircumstance to the story or class of truths to which it belongs; orwhen, as in the "Analysis of Prayer, " a text of Scripture has to beclassified according to its nature, among the several parts into whichprayer is divided;--in all these cases, there is this same doubleoperation of the mind, searching and comparing one set of ideas, whilethe pupil is employed in giving expression to others. The exhibition of the principle will be easily traced, from what tookplace in the experiment in London, where the report states, that "thethird class were next examined on the nature and practice of prayer. They shewed great skill in comprehending and defining the severalcomponent parts of prayer, as invocation, adoration, confession, thanksgiving, petition, &c. They first gave examples of each separately;and then, with great facility, made selections from each division in itsorder, which they gave consecutively; shewing, that they had acquired, with ease and aptitude, by means of this classification, a mostdesirable scriptural directory in the important duty of prayer. Theythen turned several lessons and passages of scripture into prayer; andthe Chairman, and several of the gentlemen present, read to thempassages from various parts of the Bible, which they readily classified, as taught in the 'Questions on Prayer, ' and turned them into adoration, petition, confession, or thanksgiving; according to their nature, and asthey appeared best suited for each. Some of the texts were of a mixed, and even of a complicated nature; but in every case, even when they werenot previously acquainted with the passages, they divided them intoparts, and referred each of these to its proper class, as in the moresimple and unique verses. " But a similar working of the same principle takes place when theanalytical exercise is employed synthetically, and when the pupil isrequired to go from the root, forward to the extreme branches of theanalysis, as is done when he forms an extemporaneous prayer, from aprevious acquaintance with its several divisions and their proper order. In this very necessary and important branch of a child's education, the"Analysis of Prayer" is usually employed, and has, in thousands ofinstances, been found exceedingly effective. During this exercise, thechild has steadily to keep in view the precise form and order of theAnalysis, and at the same moment he has to select the matter requiredunder each of the parts from the miscellaneous contents of his memory, to put them in order, and to give them expression. In doing this thereis a variety of mental operations going on at the same moment, duringall of which the pupil will soon be enabled continuously to giveexpression to his own ideas, with as much ease and self-possession as ifhe were doing nothing more than mechanically repeating words previouslycommitted to memory. This is a valuable attainment; and yet the whole ofthis complicated operation of attending to the several branches of theanalysis, and of selecting, forming, and giving utterance to hisconfessions, his thanksgivings, and his petitions, with perfectcomposure and self-possession, is within the reach of every Christianchild. It is accomplished by a persevering exercise of the principlewhich has been illustrated above, and which is exemplified in theparaphrastic exercise. Many adults, it is believed, have been enabled, with ease and comfort, to commence family worship by its means; andnumerous classes have been trained to the exercise in a few lessons. Weshall here detain the reader by only a single example. The writer having been requested to meet with the Sunday School Teachersof Greenock and its neighbourhood, about the year 1827 or 1828, paid avisit to that place, and had the proposed meeting in a large hall of thetown, where he endeavoured to explain to them, practically, a few of theprinciples connected with Sunday School Teaching, as more scientificallydetailed in the present Treatise. For the purposes of that meeting, three children belonging to one of the Sunday Schools, were for a fewhours previously instructed, and prepared to exhibit the working of someof those principles which, it was hoped, would lessen the labour of theSunday School Teachers, and at the same time increase their influenceand their usefulness. These children, (two girls and a boy, ) about theages of ten or twelve years, were regularly instructed by means of thecatechetical exercise, in the doctrines, examples, and duties ofChristianity; and among other subjects, they were made acquainted withthe "Analysis of Prayer, " and exercised by its means, without its beinghinted to them, however, what use was intended to be made of it. The meeting was a crowded one; where, besides the Sunday SchoolTeachers, and Parents of the children, nearly all the Clergymen of theplace were present. When the more ostensible business of the meeting hadbeen concluded, the writer consulted privately with two or three of theclergymen, and asked, whether they, knowing the general sentiments ofthe persons composing the meeting, would think it improper that one ofthe three children who had shewn themselves so intelligent, should becalled on solemnly to engage in prayer with the audience beforedismissing. To this they replied, that there could be no objections tosuch a thing, provided the children were able;--but of their ability, they very seriously doubted. On this point, however, the writer assuredthem there was no fear; and if that were the only objection, they wouldthemselves immediately see that it was groundless. The boy accordingly, without his even conjecturing such a thing previously, was, before themeeting was dismissed, publicly called on to engage in prayer. He wasfor a moment surprised, and hesitated; but almost immediately, on therequest being repeated, he shut his eyes, and commenced, with a solemnand faltering voice for one or two sentences; when, recovering fromevery appearance of trepidation, he proceeded with much propriety andsolemnity of manner, with great latitude, and yet perfect regularity andself-possession, through all the departments of adoration, confession, thanksgiving, and petition, in language entirely his own, selecting forhimself, and arranging his sentences agreeably to the Analysis, whichwas evidently his guide from the beginning to the end. This Treatisewill, there is little doubt, be read by some who were that eveningpresent, and who will remember the universal feeling of surprise anddelight, at the perfect propriety of expression, the serenity of mind, and the solemnity of manner, which characterised the whole of thisuncommon exercise. It did appear to many as a most unaccountable thing;but when the principle is perceived, as explained above, the wonder mustat once cease, and we can distinctly see, that by using the propermeans, the same ability is within the reach of all who will be at thepains to make the trial. This same principle is also exercised to a very considerable extent indrawing and applying lessons from a previous announcement. A very littleattention to the operations of the mind in that exercise will besufficient to shew this. Let us suppose, for example, that anannouncement is made to a child, from which he is required to draw apractical lesson. This announcement must be distinctly present to hismind, while he is engaged in considering its meaning, its moralcharacter, and its bearing on his own sentiments and conduct;--but moreespecially, all this, besides the original announcement, has still to bekept in view, while he is engaged in giving the lesson to the teacher inhis own language as required. But in the application of the lessons, theprinciple is still more extensively called into operation. The child isasked, how he should act in certain given circumstances. Thesecircumstances must accordingly be kept steadily before the mind, duringthe whole of the succeeding mental operation. He has to consider thelesson, or the conduct which he should pursue in these circumstances, and then, by the association of his ideas, he must call up from thewhole of his accumulated knowledge, the precepts, the examples, thewarnings, and even the implications, which form his authority fordeciding on the conduct which he ought to pursue. These again must bekept before the mind, while he is preparing, and giving in his ownlanguage his conclusions to his teacher. All this was very obvious in the several public experiments, where thedrawing of lessons, and the application of them by the pupils, wereintroduced. --In the case of the adult prisoners in Edinburgh CountyJail, it was very observable; and the rolling of the eye, and theunconscious movement of the head, as if deeply engaged in some mentalresearch when an application was required, were peculiarly pleasing andobvious to all the spectators. The reason was, that they had to keepbefore their mind, the circumstance, or statement involved in thequestion asked, while they had, at the same time, to review the severalportions of their knowledge, chuse out the passage or example which wascalculated to direct them in the duty; and then, still keeping theseaccumulated ideas present before the mind, they had to prepare and giveexpression to their answers. The same thing had to be done, but to amuch greater extent, by the children in Aberdeen, in London, and inNewry. But the most satisfactory evidence of the beneficial working ofthis principle, in the drawing and applying of lessons, and by thismeans in giving even to children a command of language, and a power ofextemporaneous speech which is but rarely attained even by adults, is tobe found in the Seventh Experiment in Leith. The writer feels more atliberty in descanting upon the extraordinary results of thatinvestigation with the children, because he had no share in theirprevious instruction; the peculiar merits of which belonged entirely totheir zealous and pious teacher. He was a plain unlettered man; and yethe has trained hundreds of children in his Sunday school, whoseintellectual attainments, for their age and rank in life, the writer hasseldom known to be surpassed. There were exhibited by the children, fromthe beginning of the experiment to the end, an amount of knowledge, adegree of mental culture, a grasp of mind, and a fluency of expression, which had never before been witnessed in children of a similar class, orof the same age, by any person then present. The pupils were at the timequite unprepared for any extraordinary exhibition;--the subjects werechosen indiscriminately by the clergymen present, and were repeatedlychanged;--and what is still more extraordinary, it was found, uponinvestigation, that the subjects were in general entirely new, or atleast they had never been previously used as exercises in the school. The children, however, with all these disadvantages, were perfectly athome in each one of them. There appeared to be no exhausting of theirresources; and the ease, and copiousness, and fluency of their language, were remarked by all present, as extraordinary, and by some as almostincredible. Many who were present, could scarcely believe that thechildren spoke extemporaneously. All these phenomena were simply theeffects of the principle of which we are here speaking, regularlybrought into operation, in the weekly acts of drawing and applying theirpractical lessons. The exhibition of so much mental power possessed bymere children, --and these children collected from the very humblest andrudest classes inhabiting a sea-port town, --appeared to be acircumstance altogether new. The official persons present, and the veryRev. Bishop Russell, who took an active part in the examination, expressed their decided satisfaction at the results of the wholeexperiment; and the effects of these principles, as illustrated by suchchildren, made the present Lord Murray remark publicly at the close ofthe meeting, that it was obviously "a valuable discovery, calculated tobe extensively useful to society. " FOOTNOTES: [28] Note Z. PART IV. ON THE SELECTION OF PROPER TRUTHS AND SUBJECTS TO BE TAUGHT IN SCHOOLSAND FAMILIES. CHAP. I. _On the General Principles which ought to regulate our choice of Truthsand Subjects to be taught to the Young. _ In all cases where our temporal interests are concerned, a properdiscrimination in the selection of such exercises and studies as shallbest suit our purpose, is considered as not only prudent, but necessary. The neglect of this would, indeed, by men of the world, be esteemed theheight of folly. No ship-master thinks of perfecting his apprentices bylectures on agriculture; nor does the farmer train his son and successorto cultivate the land, by enforcing upon him the study of navigation. Ina public school, therefore, when all classes of the community are to betaught, the truths and exercises should be selected in such a manner, that they shall, if possible, be equally useful to all; leaving thenavigator and the agriculturist, the surgeon and the lawyer, tosupplement their _general_ education, by the study of those specialbranches of learning which their several professions require. But even this is not enough:--Among those subjects and exercises inwhich all the children in a school may be equally interested, there aremany which are neither equally useful, nor equally indispensable. Athorough consideration, and a careful selection of those which are mostvaluable in themselves, and which are most likely to be useful duringlife, become both prudent and necessary. In all ordinary cases, men actupon this principle. Health, food, and recreation, are all good anduseful things; but even from among these we are sometimes compelled tomake a choice, and the principle of our decision is always the same. When we cannot procure all, we chuse those which appear to us the mostnecessary, and abandon the others without regret. A man readily denieshimself to sports and amusement, when he finds that he must labour for asupply of food and necessaries; and even the pleasures of the table arewillingly sacrificed, for the purpose of securing or restoring theblessings of health. In like manner, those branches of education whichare most important for securing the welfare of the pupils, and most forthe benefit of society, ought to be selected and preferred before allothers; seeing that to neglect, or wilfully to err in this matter, wouldbe injurious to the child, and unjust to the community. --Our object atpresent therefore is, to enquire what those general principles are whichought to regulate us in our choice of subjects and exercises for theeducation of youth. 1. The first and fundamental rule which ought to guide the Educationistand the Parent in the selection of subjects for the school, is to chusethose which are to promote the happiness and welfare of _the pupilhimself_; without regard, in the first instance at least, to theinterests or the ease of his friends, of the teacher, or of any thirdparty whatever. --Children are not the property of their parents, noreven of the community. They are strictly and unalienably the property ofthe Almighty, whose servants and stewards the parents and the publicare. The child's happiness and welfare are entirely his own;--the freegift of his Maker and Master, of which no man, without his full consent, has a right to deprive him. This happiness, and the full enjoyment ofwhat he receives, both here and hereafter, have been made to depend onhis allegiance and his faithfulness, not to his parents, nor even to thepublic, but to the great Lord of both. This allegiance therefore, is hisfirst and chief concern, with which the will and the wishes, theinterests or the ease, of teachers and parents, have nothing to do. Ifthe directions of his Maker and Lord are attended to, he has nothing tofear. There is in that case secured for him an inheritance that isincorruptible, and far beyond the reach or the power of any creature. Itis for the enjoyment of this inheritance that he has been born;--it iswith the design of attaining it, and for increasing its amount, that histime is prolonged upon earth;--it is to secure it for him, and toprepare him for it, that the parent has been appointed his guardian andguide;--and it is for the purpose of promoting and overseeing all thisamong its members, that a visible church, and church officers, have beenestablished and perpetuated in the world. In so far as each individual child is concerned, the parent is theimmediate agent appointed by the Almighty for attending to theseobjects; and although, in a matter of so much importance, he ispermitted to avail himself of the assistance of the teacher, he, and heonly, is responsible to God for the due performance of those momentousduties which he owes to his child. When therefore the parents, for thepurpose of forwarding some trifling personal advantage, or the teacher, for his own ease or caprice, are found indifferent to the kind ofexercises used in the school, or to the results of what is taught init;--doing any thing, or nothing, provided the time is allowed to pass, with at least the appearance of teaching;--they are, in such a case, betraying an important trust; they are heedlessly frustrating thewishes, and resisting the commands of their Master and Lord; they aresapping the foundations of society; and are thoughtlessly and baselydefrauding the helpless and unconscious pupil of a most valuablepatrimony. --In committing to parents the keeping and administration ofthis sacred deposit, reason, conscience, and Scripture, all unite indeclaring, that it is given them, not for the promotion of their ownpersonal advantages, but for the child's benefit; and that, while theynever can be permanently bettered by its neglect, their good, even inthis world, will be best and most surely advanced by a faithfuldischarge of their duty to their offspring. These remarks go to establish the general principle, that the parent isnot the proprietor, but merely the guardian and the administrator of thechild's interests. These interests are of various kinds. And althoughthe above remarks refer chiefly to the spiritual and eternal advantagesof the young, that circumstance arises merely from their superior valueand importance. The argument is equally conclusive in regard to everyone of his temporal concerns. For if both the parent and the child bethe special property of God, and if the parent has been appointed by himas the conservator and guardian of the child's happiness, he has noright either to lessen or to destroy it for any selfish purpose of hisown. In every case--even of discipline--he is bound to follow thecommand and the example given him by his Father and Master in heaven, not to chastise his offspring for his "own pleasure, " but for the"child's profit. " The rule therefore which ought to regulate the parent, and of course the Educationist, in making choice of the subjects andexercises for the school, is, that they shall really and permanentlyconduce to the _pupil's_ welfare and happiness, irrespective of theconflicting interests or wishes, either of the teacher, the parent, orthe public. These will usually be in harmony; but as a generalprinciple, the exercises are to be chosen with reference to the welfareof the _child_, --not of the _community_. 2. Another rule which ought to be attended to in the selection ofsubjects and exercises for the seminary, is nearly allied to the former, but which we think, from its vast importance, should have a separateconsideration. It is this, that a decided preference should be given to_every thing which advances the concerns of the soul, above those of thebody;--which prefers heaven to earth, --and eternity to time_. --Man is anaccountable and an immortal creature;--and therefore there is no morecomparison between the value of those things which refer to hishappiness in eternity, and those which refer only to his enjoymentsduring his lifetime, than there is between a drop of water and thecontents of the ocean;--nay, between a grain of sand and the wholephysical universe. The truth of this observation, when viewed in theabstract, is never questioned; and yet the educational principles whichit naturally suggests are too often jostled aside, and practicallyneglected. It plainly teaches us, that the young ought to be made awareof the comparative nothingness of temporal and sensual objects, whenplaced in competition with those which refer to their souls andeternity; and that the subjects which are to be taught them in theschool, should tend to produce these feelings. --But this is not alwaysthe case; and even when the subjects are in themselves unobjectionable, the methods taken for teaching them frequently neutralize their effects. The national evils which have arisen from this neglect are extensive andlamentable, consisting in an almost exclusive attention among allclasses to temporal matters, and to sensual gratifications. Thesecharacteristic, features in our people may all be traced, from theirexhibition in general society, to the want of a thorough knowledge ofthose truths which tend so powerfully to deaden the influence of thethings of sense and time, and to moderate our pursuit after them. It isin a particular manner at this point that the reckless cupidity, andthe debased and short-sighted selfishness of the lower classes, ought tobe met and removed, by the enlightened and kindly instructions of morecapacious minds. Society, as at present constituted, acts as if therewere no futurity. Time is the eternity of thousands; and therefore theythink only of time. Had they, as rational creatures, but a correctview, --however faint, --of their destination in eternity, their conductand pursuits would very soon be changed, and their selected enjoymentswould become, not only more rational, but much more exquisite. Educationis the instrument by which alone this can be effected, whether in thechurch or in the school; and to this point, both parents and childrenshould be assiduously directed for their own sakes, and for the sake ofthe community. Hitherto there has in education been too much of the mere shadow ofrational knowledge, without the substance; and the consequence has been, that many parents in the lower classes have never been able to perceivetheir _own_ best interests, and therefore it is that their children bythem have been equally neglected. Nor is this only a partial evil, orconfined to the lower classes. --It is, on the contrary, when we examinethe matter closely, nearly universal. Among ignorant and thoughtlessparents, who are either unable or unwilling to look any further than thefew short years of life, the training of their children to figurerespectably and gracefully during it, may not perhaps excite muchwonder;--but that such conduct should be followed by Christian parents, who know that both they and their children have souls, and that there issuch a thing as eternity before them both, is truly humbling. Nor is itmuch for the credit of the philosophy of the present day, that while itspromoters admit as an axiom the superiority of moral and religiousattainments, they are found in practice to bestow their chief attention, and to lavish most of their approbation on physical investigations andon intellectual pursuits. Every sound thinker must see, that by doingso, the first principles of philosophy are violated; and many wellmeaning persons are, by this inverted state of public opinion, insensibly drawn away from the more valuable food provided for them asresponsible and immortal beings, to feed on the mere chaff and garbageof temporal and sensual enjoyments; or the more valuable, but stilltemporary crumbs of the intellectual table. That this practical abuse ofacknowledged truths should be found among the ignorant and the depraved, might perhaps be expected; but that it should be witnessed, and yetwinked at, by men of learning and study, whose comprehensive minds, although still inadequate to comprehend the full import of an eternityof advancing knowledge, can yet appreciate the comparativeinsignificance of seventy--nay of seventy thousand--years' investigationinto the mysteries of Nature, is very painful. We do not, in sayingthis, depreciate in the slightest degree the sublime discoveries whichare daily being made of the Almighty and his works;--but we say, uponthe soundest principles of philosophy, that were all these discoveriesmultiplied ten thousand times, they could not for a moment compete withwhat yet remains to be communicated to the successful aspirant after therevelations of eternity. Religion and morals are the only means by whichsuccess in that great competition can be gained; and therefore, to achild, a knowledge of all that man has yet discovered, or can ever knowin this imperfect state of existence, is really as nothing, incomparison with the knowledge and practice of but one religious truth, or with the slightest advance in the science of morals. --A child oncepossessed of a living soul is born for eternity. Its happiness has beenmade to depend, not on the possession of physical good, or ofintellectual power, but entirely on its moral condition;--and thephysical good it receives, and the intellectual power it attains; arenothing more than means intended by the Almighty to be used for thepurpose of perfecting his moral condition while he is still in thisworld. The whole period of his existence here, is but the moment of hisbirth for eternity. Care and enlightened attention to his moralcondition during that short period of probation, will usher himspiritually alive and fully prepared for enjoying an eternal weight ofintelligence and glory;--while inattention, or misdirected activity now, may no doubt put him prematurely in possession of a few intellectualmorsels of this eternal feast, but it will assuredly shut him out fromits everlasting enjoyment, and will entail on him comparative ignorance, and a living death for ever. In this view of the case then, --and what Christian will deny that it isthe correct one, --there cannot be a more short-sighted propositionsuggested in the counsels of men, than that which would sanction asystem of education for an _immortal_ being, that either overlooked, ordeliberately set aside, his well-being in eternity. The very idea ismonstrous. It is a deliberate levelling of man to the rank of meresentient animals; and is another form of expressing the ancient adviceof the sensualist, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. " Byevery person of learning, then, and even by individuals of humblerattainments, in the exercise of a plain common understanding, theimportance of the rule in education which we are here recommending, mustat once be admitted;--That in the selection of truths and exercises foreducating and training the young, a decided preference should always begiven to those which have a reference to their well-being and happiness, not in time so much as in eternity. 3. In selecting subjects and exercises for the education of the young, those are to be preferred, by which _the largest amount of true andsolid happiness is to be secured to the pupil_. --A man's happiness ishis only possession. Every thing else which he has, is only the meanswhich he employs for the purpose of acquiring or retaining it. Happinessaccordingly, by the very constitution of our nature, is the great objectof pursuit by every man. [29] The means of happiness are no doubtfrequently mistaken, and often substituted for happiness itself. Buteven these conflicting circumstances, when properly considered, all tendto shew, that happiness is the great object desired, and that it isuniversally sought after by every intelligent mind. By a wise andbeneficent arrangement of the Almighty, it has been so ordered, thathappiness is to be found only in the exercise of the affections;--andthe amount of the happiness which they confer, is found to beproportionate to the excellence of the object beloved. The love of Godhimself, accordingly, is the first of duties, and includes theperfection of happiness. The love of all that are like him, and inproportion as they are so, ranks next in the scale; and hence it is, that all moral excellence, --the culture of the affections and theheart, --is to be preferred to intellectual attainments, as these againare to take precedence of mere physical good. This established order for the attainment of happiness, is in societymost strangely inverted. Beauty, strength, honour, and riches, --merephysical qualities, --are generally preferred to the qualities of themind;--and mental attainments, again, too often command moreconsideration than moral worth. This is altogether an unnatural state ofthings; and the consequences of its prevalence in any community, must beproportionally disastrous. How far the modes for conducting theeducation of the young hitherto have tended to extend or perpetuate thiserror, it is not for us here to say. But if they have, the sooner theevil is rectified the better. Happiness, as we have said, is the singleaim of man, --however he may mistake its nature, or the means by whichit is to be attained. And as it is to be found, not in intellectualpower, nor in the possession of physical good, but only in moralculture, it follows, that the attainment of this moral excellence shouldbe the one chief design aimed at in the education of the young. The benevolence and wisdom of this arrangement are obvious. For hadhappiness been made to depend on the possession of _intellectual_ power, few comparatively could have commanded the time and means which arenecessary for the purpose; and had it been attached to the possession ofriches, or honour, or any other species of _physical_ good, there wouldhave been still fewer. But it is not necessarily attached to thepossession of either. Men may enjoy riches and honours, beauty andhealth, and yet they may be unhappy. The highest mental attainmentsalso, when disjoined from moral excellence, tend only, as in the fallenangels, to stimulate their pride, and to aggravate their misery. Buthappiness is exclusively and unalterably attached to the cultivation of_the affections_, --to the acquisition of moral excellence;--so that itis equally within the reach of every individual, however obscure, orhowever talented. Few men can be intellectually great, --fewer still canbe rich or powerful; but every man may, if he pleases, be good, --andtherefore happy. In choosing the subjects and exercises then for theeducation of the young, those which tend to the production and to thecultivation of the moral affections, --love to God, and love to men, --arealways to be preferred to those which have relation merely to theattainment of _intellectual_ acquirements, or the possession of mere_physical_ good. 4. In choosing subjects and exercises for the education of the young, reference should be had, all other things being equal, to _theprosperity and welfare of the community in general_. --We have alreadyshewn that, under God, the happiness and welfare of every individualare his own special property, and must in all cases, therefore, be athis special disposal. No ordinary combination of circumstances will everwarrant an unjust encroachment on what is so peculiarly his own. But thehappiness and welfare of an individual are almost uniformly found to beconnected with the happiness and prosperity of those with whom he has toassociate. The Educationist, therefore, ought to have the welfare of thecommunity in view, while he is selecting those exercises which arespecially to benefit his pupil; and he will almost invariably find, thatby choosing those subjects and exercises for the individual, which willtend most surely to promote the general well-being of society, he willnot only not require a sacrifice of any of the personal benefits towhich the child has a claim, but that he will greatly increase theiramount, and add to their value. When this is the case, to overlook thegood of the community in selecting exercises and subjects for theschool, would be of no advantage to the pupils, and would be an act ofpositive injustice to the public at large. These general principles, we think, when considered singly, must approvethemselves to every thinking mind; and if so, they must be still morebeneficial when they are combined, and acted upon systematically in thepreliminary arrangements of any seminary. The nearer, therefore, theEducationist can keep to them in making his selection of subjects andexercises, the better will it be both for the pupil and for thecommunity at large, while the benefits expected from an exercise wherethere is any material deviation from them, will most probably turn outto be delusive, and the exercise itself detected as the mere bequest ofan antiquated prejudice, or the temporary idol of fashion. Theseprinciples being admitted to be sound in the abstract, will greatlyassist us in deciding upon the relative value and appropriateness ofsome of the propositions which we shall immediately have to submit tothe reader; and we would here only remark, for his guidance, that if, inthe following recommendations, he finds an exercise correctly to accordwith the above principles, while he yet hesitates as to the propriety ofits adoption in the school, or feels inclined to accede to itsexclusion, --he ought, in such a case, carefully to review the grounds ofhis decision, as these are most likely to be erroneous. He has goodreason to suspect that he is labouring under prejudice, or is undulybiassed by long cherished opinions, when he refuses the legitimateapplication of a general law, --a law which he has previously admitted tobe sound, --and which is as likely to be applicable to the case in hand, as to any other of a similar kind. FOOTNOTES: [29] Note R. CHAP. II. _On the particular Branches of Education required for ElementarySchools. _ In making choice of suitable subjects for the education of a community, there are two considerations which ought to regulate us in ourselection. The one is, the indications of Nature respecting any branchof education; and the other is, the peculiar usages of the place andpersons with whom the pupil is destined to associate. As an example ofthe former class of subjects, we may instance reading and writing; andof the latter, book-keeping and the classics. The branches belonging tothe former will be found more or less useful to all without exception;while those which rank under the second class, although requisite forsome, will be found unnecessary, and generally useless, to many. Fromthe character of the present work, our business is chiefly with theformer class; and we shall therefore advert very shortly to a few ofthem, pointing out the intimations of Nature respecting them, andgiving a few hints as to the best methods by which they may be taught. And first of all, _Religion and Morals_ are clearly pointed out byNature as a branch of education peculiarly necessary for the young. Onthis we shall not here again enlarge, but shall merely refer the readerto some of our previous pages, where it has been made sufficientlyclear. [30] Next in importance as a branch of education plainly indicated by Nature, we ought to rank _the principles of Natural Philosophy_. We say next _inimportance_, not _in time_; because they are evidently not to be taughtto the child in this order, although it will be found in experience thatthese principles may be communicated by successive "steps" much soonerthan is generally thought. [31] Nature begins early; and so should we. The very infant becomes practically a natural philosopher, and continuesto act regularly upon the truths or principles which experience enableshim to detect. He soon learns that flame burns, that clothes keep hisbody warm, that stumbling will cause a fall, and that the support of achair or stool will prevent it. As he grows up he learns the danger ofhandling sharp knives, hot irons, and burning coals; he learns to detectsome of the effects of the mechanical powers, which he frequentlyapplies, although he cannot explain them. This we perceive exemplifiedin his ingenious contrivances in cutting his sticks, wrenching withforks, hammering with stones, kicking with his toes, and afterwards morepowerfully with his heels; in trundling his hoop, in sailing his mimicfleets by the force of his breath, and in adapting to the requisitemoving powers his wind and water mills. He even learns to know somethingof the composition of forces, as we perceive by his contrivances in theflying of his kite, the shooting of his marbles, and the rebounding ofhis ball. Now, as these adaptations are never to be ranked under theclass of instinctive actions, but have been in every case acquired byactual experience, it shews, that there is an outgoing of the mind insearch of principles, and we think it is probable, that these principlesare often, although perhaps but dimly perceived, from the various, andfrequently successful contrivances of the child in difficulties, and incircumstances when he is desirous of procuring relief. This at allevents shews us, that children are very early prepared, and capable ofreceiving instruction of this kind. The _importance_ attached by Nature to this branch of learning, is notless remarkable, than is its universality. It is the great hinge uponwhich every temporal comfort of the individual is made to turn. What wehave here termed "natural philosophy, " is to the body and to time, whatreligion and morals are to the soul and eternity;--the well-being ofboth depends almost entirely upon the proper application of theirseveral principles. It is no doubt true, that the principles are notalways very clearly perceived; but it is equally true, that theapplication of these principles will be more easy, more frequent, andmuch more effective, when they are made familiar by teaching. Hence theimportance of this branch of education for the young. Next in importance as branches of education, and prior perhaps in pointof time, come the arts of _Reading_ and _Writing_. --Speech is a valuablegift of Nature, bestowed upon us for the communication of our ideas, and_writing_ is nothing more than a successful imitation of Nature in doingso. The hearing of speech, in like manner, is closely copied in the artof _reading_. These two arts, therefore, as most successful imitationsof Nature, recommend themselves at once to the notice of the teacher asan important branch of education for the young. The one enabling him tospeak with the hand, and to communicate his ideas to his friend fromany distance; and the other, the art of hearing by the eye, and by whichhe can make the good and the wise speak to him as often and as long ashe may feel inclined. [32] Of _Arithmetic_, we may only remark, that the necessity of sometimesascertaining the number of objects, of adding to their number, and atother times of subtracting from them, indicates sufficiently that thisis a branch of education recommended by Nature. It may only be necessaryhere to remark, that, from various concurring circumstances, it appears, that what is called the Denary Scale is that which is most conducive togeneral utility. As to the nature of Arithmetic, and the best methods ofteaching it, we must refer to the Note. [33] _Music_ is one of Nature's best gifts. The love of it is almostuniversal; and few comparatively are unable to relish and practise it. Its effect in elevating and refining the sentiments in civilizedsociety, is matter of daily observation; and its power to "soothe thesavage breast, " has been often verified. To neglect the cultivation ofmusic, therefore, during childhood and youth, when it can be best done, not only without interference with other branches of study, but withdecided advantage in forwarding them, is both imprudent and unjust. Wesay that it is _unjust_;--for while much ingenuity and large sums ofmoney have been expended in producing musical instruments for thegratification of men, the child of the poorest beggar is in possessionof an instrument in the human voice, which for sweetness, variety, expression, and above all, for its adaptation to language, has neverbeen equalled, and stands quite unapproachable by all the contrivancesof man. How cruel then in parents or teachers to allow an instrument sonoble and so valuable to fall to ruin from the want of exercise! It isto deprive their pupil of a constant solace in affliction, and to dryup one of the cheapest, the readiest, and the most innocent andelevating sources both of personal and social enjoyment. Of its uses, and methods of teaching in the school, we must again refer to theNotes. [34] _Dancing_ is obviously the sister of music, and is perhaps equallysanctioned by Nature. It is obviously capable of being consecrated andemployed for high moral purposes; and its abuse therefore should form noargument against its regular cultivation. That it was so employed by theappointment of God himself, is matter of history; and that it is stillcapable of being preserved from abuse, cannot reasonably be denied. Thestand that has so frequently been made against even the innocentenjoyment of this boon of Nature, is now admitted to be a prejudice, derived originally from its flagrant and frequent abuse. Theseprejudices are gradually and silently melting away; and it is cheeringto see the better feelings of our nature effectively advancing the artto its legitimate place in education, under the guise of gymnastics andcallisthenics. That these, however, are but imperfect substitutes forwhat Nature has intended for the young, is obvious, when we contrastthem with the gambols of the kitten, the friskings of the lamb, and theunrestrained romps of healthy children newly let loose from the school. The truth is, that the accumulation of the animal spirits must be thrownoff by exercise, whether the parent or teacher wills it or no; and ifthe children are not taught to do this _by rule_, as in dancing, theywill do it without rule, and perhaps beyond the proper limit, both as totime, place, and quantity. Education indeed cannot be expected toflourish to the extent desired, till the mental labours of the schoolcan be occasionally relieved by some physical exercise, either withindoors, or in the open air. [35] The love of pictures and of _Drawing_ is also a boon bestowed upon us byNature, and is a desirable acquisition for the young. The art maygenerally be acquired with little trouble, and often with greatenjoyment. It is certainly neither so necessary, nor so valuable, assome of the branches of which we have been speaking; but as it may beeasily attained, and as its future exercise will always be a source ofinnocent and refined enjoyment, it ought to occupy a place in everyeducational institution. Almost every person is gratified by lookingupon a good picture; and few comparatively are unable to acquire therudiments of the art which produces them. It requires but littleteaching, provided good copies be procured;--and even these will befrequently unnecessary, where the pupils are encouraged to copy fromNature. The proper methods of doing this, however, must be left to thecircumstances of the school, and to future experiments. With respect to the teaching of _History_, a little consideration willconvince us, that it does not consist in the mere communication ofhistorical facts. History is, or ought to be, a science; and thesuccession of events is nothing more than the implements employed by themaster in teaching it. The _facts_ of history, like those of chemistry, agriculture, or mechanics, are taught merely as means to an end. --Theyare the elements from which we derive principles, which are to bepractically applied by the learner; and it is _the ability to applythese_ that constitutes the learning. The facts upon which any scienceis based, must no doubt be known before it can be taught;--but they maybe known without the science having ever been mastered: For it is not aknowledge of the facts, but the capacity to _make use_ of them, thatentitles a man to the appellation of a chemist, an agriculturist, amechanic, or a historian. Viewing the study of history in this light, we at once perceive, thatthe teaching which it requires is not a dry detail of dates andcircumstances;--but the practical uses which ought to be made of them. The only legitimate use of history is to direct us how we ought toconduct ourselves as citizens, and how rulers and governors can mostsafely and successfully manage the affairs of the public, in all thevarying events of political change. The teacher therefore is tocommunicate the facts, for the purpose of turning them to use, bydrawing, and teaching his pupils how to draw lessons of prudence, energy, or caution, as regards the nation;--in the same way thatBiography is taught for the sake of drawing lessons of a more personalkind, as regards a family or a neighbourhood. Both were practicallyexhibited in the experiment in Aberdeen; by which it was made obvious, that children, as well as adults, were capable of studying it. Where thecircumstances of a seminary will admit, it ought not to be neglected. The mere inconveniences which may for some time attend the introductionof such a mode of teaching history is no good reason for its neglect;and the want of practical elementary books drawn up upon this plan, inthe form of successive "Steps, " is the chief desideratum, which we hopesoon to see supplied. _Geography_ is another branch of education pointed out to us by Naturefor the benefit of man. We speak here, however, of physical geography, and not of the historical and political departments of it. These belongmore properly to history. The chief object in teaching this science, isto convey to the mind of the pupil a correct idea of this world as asphere, on the top of which he stands, and of the relative positions ofall the kingdoms and countries on its surface. This will be, and itought to be, a work of time. The more correctly and familiarly the pupilcan form the idea of this sphere as a whole, the sooner and the betterwill he become acquainted with its parts. Acting upon the principles ofreiteration and analysis, formerly described, the pupil ought tosketch, however rudely, the great outlines of the four divisions of theearth, upon a blank, or slate globe, till he can do so with some degreeof correctness. The separated divisions may then be sketched on a commonslate, without caring as yet for the details; and when this can beaccomplished readily, the same thing may be done with the differentkingdoms of which they are severally composed. The child ought never tobe harassed by the minute details, till he comes to sketch thecountries, or the counties. What is required _before this_, is theirrelative position, more than their form; and this, upon the principle ofanalysis, will be easiest and most permanently acquired by mastering inthe first place the great outlines. Children, by mere imitation, will practically acquire the art of_Grammar_, long before they are capable of learning it as a science. Itought invariably to be taught by "Steps;" and the child should have aperfect knowledge of the etymological part, before he is allowed toadvance to syntax. The efficiency of this concluding part of grammar, depends entirely upon his familiarity with the former. It will thereforebe found here, as in the practice of arithmetic, that the prize willultimately be awarded, not to him who expends most labour and strengthin running, but to him who has made the best preparation for the race. The art of _Composition_, or the ability to express our thoughts in anorderly and natural form, is the last branch of education to which, asrecommended by Nature, we shall here allude. The perfection of this artappears to depend on three circumstances. There must be a clearunderstanding of the subject upon which the person is to write;--theremust, in the second place, be a distinct perception of the most naturalorder in which it ought to be presented to the mind and imagination ofothers;--and the third is, an ability to manage these materials withfacility, and without distraction of mind, while engaged in writingthem. As to the first of these three, nothing requires to be said here, as the exercises recommended in the previous part of this Treatise willalmost invariably accomplish it. With respect to the second, that ofpresenting the ideas connected with the subject in due and proper order, it may be remarked, that the hints formerly given, as to the naturalorder of "grouping" objects to be presented to the imagination, will beof great use here, and to them we must refer;[36]--and the third objecthere required, that of managing the thoughts at the moment of writingthem, has been in effect already described and treated of, in a previouspart of this Treatise. [37] It is the same kind of ability as that whichis required for acquiring fluency and ease in extemporaneous speaking, and is to be gained by the use of the same means. It is here onlynecessary to observe, that abstract teaching and general directions arenot the things most required for forwarding a child in this branch ofhis education. These, at an advanced stage of his learning, will nodoubt be of service; but till the pupil can write with some degree offreedom, they are in a great measure useless, or worse. What is wantedmost in our elementary schools, is a successful _beginning_;--suitableexercises to assist the pupil in writing his own thoughts properly, butin his own way. Many methods have been devised to effect this, and withmore or less success;--but we believe the most efficient, because themost natural and simple, is that which has been engrafted upon theparaphrastic exercise. In regard to its ease, it is only necessary tosay, that a child who can but write a sentence, may begin to practiseit;--and its efficiency may be argued from the fact, that while everystep is progressive, the advanced exercises give ample scope for theabilities of the cleverest in the school. [38] FOOTNOTES: [30] See Part II. Chap. X. P. 111. Part III. Chap. Ix. P. 257, and p. 310-313. For the methods of teaching, see Note S. [31] Note T. [32] Note U. [33] Note V. [34] Note W. [35] Note A a. [36] See pages 215, 216. [37] See Pages 297, &c. CHAP III. _On the Easiest Methods of Introducing these Principles, for the firsttime, into Schools already established. _ That the educational principles attempted to be developed in thepreceding pages, shall ultimately pervade the great fields of Elementarylearning, admits we think of but little doubt; and yet the diminutiveword "When?" in relation to this change, forms a question, which itwould be extremely difficult to answer. Every improvement of the kindhitherto has been gradual; and experience shews, that the admission ofthe most important principles in Science, has been often retarded, rather than forwarded, by undue precipitation on the part of theirfriends. It is with this historical fact in view that the followinghints are now offered, in order to render any sudden change unnecessary, and to enable teachers gradually to feel their way to greater success by_new_ methods, without making any material change for some time on the_old_. We speak advisedly when we say, that two half hours daily, ifregularly and honestly employed in working out these principles in aschool, will do more real good in forwarding the education of the pupilsattending it, than all the rest of the day put together. This portion oftime, divided between the two parts of the day, would not materiallyinterfere with the usual routine of any seminary, which might still beproceeded with as before, till the teacher saw his way more clearly inenlarging the exercises, and extending the time. _Younger Classes. _--With respect to the young children who are as yetincapable of understanding by reading, we would advise that they berepeatedly exercised by a monitor in sections of four or five, duringnot more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time, by means of the"Scripture Groupings for children. " The Key to that little book willenable any monitor, or even scholar, who can read, efficiently toperform this duty. The design here is chiefly mental exercise; but withthat mental exercise, the most important and valuable information may becommunicated. The monitor is to announce a sentence, and then tocatechise on it, taking care to avoid all "Catechetical Wanderings, "[39]and confining himself strictly to the sentence announced, from which thechild in that case will always be able to bring his answer. When a section has been mastered, the children may be encouraged to tellthe story in their own way, the monitor taking care that the child isnot reiterating the _words_, instead of the _ideas_. A few of the moralcircumstances may also be presented to their minds, and the lessonsdrawn and applied according to their capacity. _Second Classes. _--Where the children are capable of reading, they mayget a section of the "Groupings, " or of any of the "First Steps, " toread at home. On this they ought to be catechised in school, beforereading it there, to see whether it has been previously read andunderstood or not. This preparation ought to be strictly enforced. Theymay then read it by sentences in turn, be catechised upon it, have themoral circumstances separated, and the lessons drawn and applied. Onesection should in general be _thoroughly known and mastered_, beforepassing to another; and all the previous sections should be frequentlyand extensively revised, chiefly by the application of their severallessons. _Higher Classes. _--The whole school, with the exception perhaps of thevery young classes, may be taken together, and catechised on somesection of one of the Steps, or on a passage of Scripture previouslyprescribed. This they ought each to read and understand _at home_, andbe prepared to paraphrase it, to separate the moral circumstances, andto draw the corresponding lessons. [40] This will in a short time be easyfor them; and to ensure the preparation, the name of each pupil ought tobe kept on a separate card, and these being shuffled, the teacher, afterasking the question at the whole, may take the upmost card, and requirethat child to answer it. All must in that case be prepared, as none canknow but he may be the person who shall be called on publicly to answer. The application of the lessons will be found the most useful, and to thechildren the most interesting part of this exercise. In this the teachersupposes a circumstance, or situation, corresponding to the lessondrawn, in which the pupils may be placed; and he requires them to sayhow they ought to act in such a case. When they give their _opinion_, they must then give their _authority_; that is, they must refer to thelesson, and through the lesson, to the Scripture truth from which it wasdrawn. _Natural Philosophy. _--In teaching the principles of _NaturalPhilosophy_, a select class may be formed, more circumscribed as tonumber, and from among the more advanced scholars. To these, a section, or part of section, of the "First Step to Natural Philosophy, " is to begiven to prepare at home, --to understand, and to be ready to draw andapply the lessons, --in a manner similar to that prescribed above, and asillustrated in the Key to that work. _Writing. _--In teaching the art of _Writing_, upon the precedingprinciples, the chief object is to train the pupils easily and readilyto _write down their own thoughts_. To accomplish this, a certainportion of their time may be occupied as follows. The teacher reads asentence, or a paragraph, or, what will perhaps be better, a shortstory, or anecdote, and requires the whole of them to write it down intheir _books_ for after examination. These of course are to be examinedand corrected, with any necessary remarks by the teacher orassistant. --In this exercise, there is no necessity for circumscribingthe pupils as to time, --it being required that they write accurately, grammatically, and neatly, whether in large or small text. To all thosewho are first finished, some other exercise ought to be provided thatthey may in that manner usefully occupy the time that may remain oftheir hour. _Arithmetic. _--The introduction of the Arithmetic Rod, and its Key, intoa school, will be productive of many advantages. [41] The line of figuresupon the A side of the Rod, being painted on a board in sight of thewhole school, and which is never required to be altered, the teacher hasonly to announce a sum to be added to each of the figures; the firstpupil that is done, deposits his slate on a table, stool, or form, andgoes to his place; the next places his slate above his, and the othersin the same way as they finish. The answer in the Key will shew theiraccuracy, and the order in which their slates lie points out theirrespective merits. Another very important object is gained by thisexercise; for the teacher, by recording the time taken by any one of thepupils in adding a particular sum to the line, can measure by the watchthe rate of his improvement every month, every week, or even every day. The parents of any child, by means of the Rod and its Key, can also dothis at home with perfect exactness. These hints for the regulation of teachers are thrown out with greatdeference, as they have not been sufficiently tested by actualexperiments. Teachers, however, will be able, each for himself, according to the circumstances of his school, and the capacities of hischildren, to adopt such parts as he finds most effective; and so tomodify others, that the end shall perhaps be more efficiently gained, than by strictly adhering to any one of them. --Education in all itsparts is yet in its infancy; and these crude hints can only be expectedto help it forward to maturity. FOOTNOTES: [38] See Key to Second Initiatory Catechism, pages xxi. & xxii. [39] See Complete Directory for Sunday School Teachers, vol. I. P. 278. [40] For these exercises the Teacher or monitor will find himselfgreatly assisted by means of the "Helps" to Genesis, Luke, Acts, &c. Where, besides the lessons, all the explanations are given in the formof a paraphrase. [41] See Note V. THE END. NOTES Note A, pages 45 and 55. --It may perhaps be reasonably objected to thisterm of "Reiteration, " that it is a new term for an act of the mindwhich has already received another name. The Author's excuse istwo-fold. In the first place, he thinks, that any other term which hecould have employed, might have been misunderstood, as writers are notas yet at one on the subject. But, secondly, no other term would haveincluded so fully all that he intends to designate by the act of"Reiteration. " In this he may be mistaken; but as it is of littleconsequence by what name an object may be called, provided the thing sonamed be properly defined, he thought it safest to apply the term hebest understood, and which, in his opinion, most correctly describes theact itself. The same thing may be said of the terms, "Individuation, " "Grouping, "and "Classification, " which may perhaps be nothing more than"Abstraction, " "Combination, " and "Generalization. " His misconception ofthose latter terms, and of what is included in them, may have led him tothink that the mental operations which he has perceived in the young aredifferent. If so, there can be little harm in using the terms hereadopted; but if, on the contrary, they do really include more, it wouldhave been hurtful to use a term which had been previously defined, andwhich did not include the whole that was intended. Note B, p. 56. --It may be a question, but one certainly of littlepractical consequence, whether we ought to place the principle of"Individuation, " or this of "Reiteration, " first in order. The child, nodoubt, fixes upon the individual object before he can reiterate it; butit is still this act of reiteration that first impresses the idea on themind, and constitutes it a part of his knowledge. Note C, p. 58. --It may be proper here to explain once for all, that itis not the intention of the Author, as indeed he has not the ability, todefine scientifically the mental processes which he thinks he hasobserved in the young. His object is simply to point them out, so thatthey may be successfully imitated by the teacher in the exercises of theschool. Note D, p. 60. --The fact, that children who learn to repeat wordswithout understanding them, do sometimes acquire the meaning of themafterwards, is no valid objection to the accuracy of this statement. Repeated experiments, in various forms, and with different persons, haveestablished the important fact, that when children at any future periodmaster the ideas contained in the words which they had previouslycommitted to memory, it is not _because_ of that exercise, but _in spiteof it_. They have attained them by another, and a perfectly differentprocess. It is generally by reading the words from the memory, --thinkingthem over, --and in that way searching for, and reiterating the ideasthey contain. This is much more difficult than when the person reads forthe first time the same words from a book; and it has this seriousdisadvantage, that it has to be read from the memory _every time_ theideas are required, which is not the case when the ideas are reiteratedin the natural way by hearing, or by reading. --On this subject see theExperiment made before the Clergy and Teachers of Stirling, in July1833, with "Blind Alick" of that place, who could repeat the wholeBible;--and the Supplementary Experiment to ascertain the sameprinciple, made in the House of Correction in Belfast, before theTeachers and Clergymen of that town, in December 1837. Note E, p. 83. --Perhaps it may be found, that "Grouping, " and"Classification, " are only different manifestations of the sameprinciple. But even if it were so, it would have been necessary here totreat of them separately, on account of the very different uses made ofthem by Nature. The present, be it observed, is not a metaphysicaltreatise, but a humble attempt to be popularly useful. --See Note C. Note F, p. 105. --This principle may by some be considered as "instinct, "and others may affirm that it is "reason. " All that we require to dohere is to point out the phenomenon, --not to define it. The name is oflittle consequence. It is the principle itself, as perceived in itsmanifestations, that we have to do with, for the purpose of successfullyimitating it in our dealings with the young. Note G, p. 132. --There needs scarcely any farther proof of this than thefact, that barristers, by constant practice, are usually the most fluentextemporaneous speakers. It is also strongly corroborative of thestatement in the text, that clergymen generally, and especially thosewho are most accustomed to the use of extemporaneous prayers andsermons, find most ease in replying to an opponent on any subject thatis familiar to them. Note H, p. 160, & 201. --It is a very remarkable fact, to which theattention of the writer was lately called, that Mrs Wesley, the motherof the Rev. John Wesley, founder of the Wesleyan Methodists, appears tohave acted upon the principles here developed. In Southey's Life of thatgreat man, there occurs the following Note: "Mrs Wesley thus describes her peculiar method (of teaching her childrento read, ) in a letter to her son John, (the founder of the WesleyanMethodists. ) "None of them were taught to read till five years old, except Kezzy, inwhose case I was overruled; and she was more years in learning than anyof the rest had been months. The way of teaching was this: The daybefore a child began to learn, the house was set in order, every one'swork appointed them, and a charge given that none should come into theroom from nine till twelve, or from two till five, which were our schoolhours. One day was allowed the child wherein to learn its letters, andeach of them did in that time know all its letters, great and small, except Molly and Nancy, who were a day and a half before they knew themperfectly, for which I then thought them very dull; but the reason why Ithought them so, was because the rest learned them so readily; and yourbrother Samuel, who was the first child I ever taught, learnt thealphabet in a few hours. He was five years old the 10th of February; thenext day he began to learn; and as soon as he knew the letters, began atthe 1st chapter of Genesis. He was taught to spell the 1st verse, thento read it over and over till he could read it off hand without anyhesitation;--so on to the second, &c. Till he took ten verses to alesson, which he quickly did. Easter fell low that year, and byWhitsuntide he could read a chapter very well; for he read continually, and had such a prodigious memory, that I cannot remember ever to havetold him the same word twice. What was yet stranger, any word he hadlearnt in his lesson, he knew wherever he saw it, either in his Bible orany other book, by which means he learnt very soon to read an Englishauthor well. "The same method was observed with them all. As soon as they knew theletters, they were first put to spell and read one line, then a verse, never leaving till perfect in their lesson, were it shorter or longer. So one or other continued reading at school, time about, without anyintermission; and before we left school, each child read what he hadlearned that morning, and ere we parted in the afternoon, what he hadlearned that day. "--_Southey's Life of Wesley_, Note, p. 429. In the above simple narrative, there is a distinct reference to theprinciples of "Reiteration, " and "Individuation, " and hence Mrs Wesley'sgreat success. Note I, p. 162. --When the true nature of Education is better understood, it will be found that a child may have advanced far on its path by oralinstruction, before it be either necessary or desirable that he shouldbe compelled to read for himself. To assist the parent and teacher inthis preliminary part of their duty, the "First Initiatory Catechism, "or the "First Steps" to the Old and the New Testaments, with theirrespective Keys, may be used with advantage, --they having beenconstructed upon the principles here recommended. But the best Book _tobegin with_, will be the "Groupings from Scripture, " with its Key forthe use of monitors, or older children, who can by its means greatlyassist the parent or teacher in the work. In making use of that littlebook, the sentences are to be announced in whole or in parts to thepupils one by one; and upon which they are to be thoroughly andextensively catechised. As for example, the first announcement may begiven thus:--"_God made the first man_, " from which the followingquestions may be formed--"Who made the first man?" "Whom did God make?""What man did God make?" "What did God do to the first man?" The teacheror monitor ought then to add the additional fact, "that God made thefirst man _of clay_, " and catechise again upon the whole. After this iswell understood, he may complete the sentence, "God made the first manof clay, _and called him Adam_. " The child will then be able--not torepeat the words only, for that is not the effect of thisexercise, --but to communicate the ideas in his _own words_; which, however, will generally be found to be the very same as in the book. This distinction is most important. When the whole section has beencompletely mastered, the lessons and their applications may also betaught;--by all of which the mental faculties will soon become vigorousand lively, and the pupil will be well prepared for all the exercises towhich he may afterwards be called. Note K, p. 151. --The art of catechising from any lesson or book, is avery simple one when the principle is understood. It consists simply inselecting the most important words contained in the announcement, andforming a question upon each of them, in such a manner, as to requirethat particular word from the pupil as the answer to the question raisedupon it. For example, when the teacher has in four words announced thefact, that "Jesus died for sinners;" he will be able to form a questionfrom the three chief ones, "Jesus, "--"died, " and "sinners. " Thesequestions will be, "Who died?"--"What did Jesus do for sinners?" and"For whom did Jesus die?" It is not necessary that the words should betaken up in their order, which may be always left to the discretion ofthe teacher. For the several parts of this principle, as employed uponclauses, or whole sentences or subjects, see next Note L. Note L, p. 185. --The Catechetical Exercise has for convenience beendivided into three kinds of exercises, called the "Connecting Exercise, "the "General Exercise, " and the "Verbal Exercise. " The "ConnectingExercise, " includes those comprehensive questions, which require thepupil to go over perhaps a whole subject, or several sentences, tocomplete his answer; as if in teaching the Parable of the Sower, thepupil were asked, "What were the several kinds of ground on which theseed was sown?" or, "What is said of the seed sown by the way side?" Inanswering either of these questions he would have to combine many ideas, and the truths contained in several distinct clauses. This exercise isused commonly in revising several sections at a time after they havebeen taught. The "General Exercise, " is used in all the advanced classes, sometimesin connection with the Verbal Exercise, and includes those questionschiefly which are formed upon clauses in the book or section taught. As, for example, when the pupil is asked, "What became of the seed sown bythe way side?" or, "What did the birds of the air do?" he has to giveone or more clauses, containing several ideas, as his answer. The "Verbal Exercise" has to do only with the words of the clauses, andthe single idea which the particular word is intended to convey; as whenit is said, "the birds of the air devoured it up;" the questions, "Whatdevoured the seed?" "What birds?" "What did the birds do?" "What did thebirds devour?" refer chiefly to the words, and the single ideas whichthey communicate. It may be here remarked, however, that although these exercises aredivided in theory, they ought seldom to be altogether separated inpractice. In using the Verbal Exercise with the younger classes, manyquestions will be required which properly belong to the "General;" andin using the "General Exercise" with the advanced classes, neither the"Connecting, " nor the "Verbal Exercise, " ought to be altogetherexcluded. Note M, p. 192. --In communicating knowledge to the young by means of theCatechetical Exercise, care ought to be taken that the truths or ideasbe communicated regularly, and not too many at a time. In making use ofthe "Groupings, " or "First Steps, " the contents of one section ought tobe well understood, and all the circumstances to be made familiar, before the child passes to another. To do otherwise is not to forward, but to retard his advance in the attainment of knowledge. There oughtalso to be frequent returns upon the sections formerly mastered, so thatthe truths be more and more firmly fixed upon the memory. This will alsobe accomplished by means of the lessons from the several moral truthstaught, and by their application to the circumstances of ordinary life. It is also a matter of great practical importance, in teaching anysubject, that the teacher confine himself strictly to it, avoiding allkinds of "Catechetical Wandering, " by which the minds of his pupils willbe distracted and enfeebled if they _cannot_ follow him, and by whichtheir attention will be powerfully drawn away from the lesson, if they_can_. --For example, if the subject to be taught be the "GoodSamaritan, " nothing can be plainer than that the mind of the pupil oughtto be concentrated upon the subject, till it be "grouped, " and fixedupon the mind and memory as one combined and moving scene, so that onecircumstance in the story will conjure up all the others. --This isNature's plan. --But if the teacher, at the very commencement, when thechild has read that "a certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, "shall call his attention from the story itself, to ask where Jerusalemwas? What was Judea? Who dwelt there? Who was their progenitor? Fromwhat bondage were they saved? Who conducted them through the wilderness?Who brought them into Judea? requiring the whole history of the Jews, their captivity, and restoration; the effect is most pernicious, and isfatal to the great design intended by the teacher. It is destructive ofthat habit of concentration of mind upon a particular subject, which isalways the accompaniment of genius; and which ought to be cultivated inthe young with the greatest assiduity and care. But this habit of"Catechetical Wandering, " does not stop here, for the teacher has yetanother word in this first sentence which admits of a similar treatment;and instead of returning to the lesson, he takes up the word "Jericho, "by means of which he follows a similar course; "riding off" from theoriginal subject, and leaving the child bewildered and confused, tocommence again, to be again interrupted and distracted by otherirrelevant questions. Many evils result from this practice; and thecause is obvious. For if the child has been taught these irrelevanttruths before, this is obviously not the time to introduce them, whenhe is in the very act of _learning a new subject_;--and if he has notbeen taught them previously, the matter becomes worse; for by thisattempt to teach a variety of new things at the same time, someimportant principles of Nature are still more violentlyoutraged. --_After_ the subject has been taught, and the child is calledon to _revise_ his several lessons, then is the time to combine them, and to point out their various connections, --but not before. Note N, p. 195. --It will always be found advisable to teach the alphabetto children long before they begin to read; and while they are beingverbally exercised on the "Groupings from Scripture, " and other books ofa similar kind. To do so at home by way of games, will be found easiestfor the parent, and most pleasant for the child. By having the smallletters on four dice, (six on each, ) and allowing the use of only onetill the six letters on its sides are familiar;--and not giving thethird, till those on the two first have been mastered; and the same withthe fourth, --will be found useful, provided they be only occasionallymade use of. A too frequent repetition of the _game_ will destroy itseffect; and therefore, as there is sufficient time, it ought only to beallowed on proper, and perhaps on _great_ occasions. Other contrivances, besides those given in the text, such as making the child guess atletters, drawing letters from a bag, and naming them, &c. Will readilyoccur to ingenious parents or teachers. It should be observed, that asthis acquirement is needed but _once_ in the child's lifetime, a littlepains or trouble ought not to be grudged in forwarding it. Note O, p. 208. --In using the "First Class Book on the Lesson System, "the teacher must take care that the letters and their sounds, or powers, be perfectly familiar to the child before he begins to read. The firstlesson, of course, is composed altogether of words new to the child, each of which he must be taught to _read_ by combining the powers of theletters composing it;--and he must never be allowed to pass on to thefollowing word, till all the previous ones can be correctly and readilydecyphered. Before beginning to the second, or succeeding lessons, thenew words occurring in it, (which are prefixed, ) must be read and madefamiliar to him one by one, and explained if necessary. By this means hewill soon be able to _pick up the ideas_ in his lesson by even a firstreading, which is the great end that the teacher ought to have inview. --The capital letters need not be taught till the child comes tothem in his reading. --The lessons being consecutive, none must beomitted. Note P, p. 220. --The nature of successive "Steps" will be betterunderstood by using, than by describing them. The following, however, will give some idea of their design; keeping in mind, that the contentsof the several branches must be written out in such a manner as toconvey the ideas in the common way. The following is a rude sketch ofwhat the History of Joseph would be like, if the ideas under each branchof the analysis were fairly written out as First, Second, and ThirdSteps. ANALYTICAL TABLE. SHEWING THE NATURE OF SUCCESSIVE STEPS IN EDUCATION. THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. -------------+-----------------+------------------------------------------- Substance of | Substance of a | a First Step. | Second Step. | Substance of a Third Step. -------------+-----------------+------------------------------------------- {Joseph's father {Jacob loved Joseph best of his family; who Joseph {was partial to {Brought him the evil reports of them; and was beloved {him. {Got a coat of many colours. By his { father, {And he dreamed {Joseph told his dream of the sheaves, and {that he was {And his brothers hated him the more. Hated {to be great. {He told his dream of the sun and stars; by his { {And his father observed the saying. Brothers; { {These things {His brothers would not speak peaceably to {made the family {Him; and envied and hated him; and {uneasy. {His father expostulated with him. {Joseph sought his brothers at Dothan; {Joseph was {Was cast into a pit, and afterwards {cruelly used by {Sold for a slave. {his brothers, {His brothers concealed the crime, and { {His father mourned him as dead. And although { he was { {Joseph was carried to Egypt, and long in {And was made {Was a slave in Potiphar's house; affliction, {a slave to {Where he was industrious and faithful; {Potiphar; {And was tempted by his mistress. { { {Joseph was unjustly put into confinement. {Who unjustly {He was useful in prison, where {cast him into {A butler and baker were confined. {prison. {Joseph interpreted their dreams; but was {Left in prison by the butler forgetting {him. { {Pharoah was displeased with the magicians. {He was brought {The butler told him of Joseph; {out to Pharoah, {And Joseph interpreted his dreams, { {And was advanced to authority. { { {Joseph married and was made next to {And made ruler {Pharoah. He collected corn for seven {over all Egypt; {Years; Distributed it to all nations; and He rose { {Sold it for the cattle and lands of Egypt. At last { to great { {Joseph's brothers came to Egypt for food; prosperity. {During which {And he spake roughly to them. {time he behaved {He detained Simeon; {with great {Brought and entertained Benjamin; {prudence to his {And hid his cup in Benjamin's sack. {brothers; {He then made himself known to his brothers. { { {Joseph brought his father and family to {And kindly {Egypt. He settled, supported, and honoured {took care of the {Them. He buried his father, {whole family. {And left several charges with his brothers. Note Q, p. 225. --In giving a specimen of this mode of illustrating aconnected subject, we may only premise, that the method, as a branch ofEducation, requires that all the general heads should be perceivedfirst, before any of them is sub-divided. For example, Paul's sermon atAntioch, (Acts xiii. ) must be perceived by the pupil in its greatoutline, or general heads, before he be called on to separate these intotheir several particulars. These heads as given in the Analysis, (Helpto Acts, vol. I. P. 187, ) are to the following purport: "The design of Paul in this discourse appears to be, I. To conciliate the Jews. II. To prove that the Messiah had already come, and that Jesus was that Messiah. III. To remove certain objections against Jesus being the Messiah. IV. To establish the claims of Jesus as the Messiah; and, V. To press his salvation upon their notice and acceptance. " When these general divisions, or heads, are understood, either byreading the respective verses which they occupy, or by the oralillustration of the teacher, each of them may then be taken separately, and sub-divided into its parts. For example, the first head, which inthe analysis is, "_First_, Paul endeavours to conciliate the Jews bygiving a brief outline of their history, till the days of David, to whomthe Messiah was specially promised, " ver. 17-23. This first of the abovefive heads, is separable into the following particulars. "1. Thecondition of the Jews in, and their deliverance from, Egypt;--2. Theirhistory in the wilderness;--3. The destruction of their enemies, andtheir settlement in Canaan;--4. Of the Judges till the time ofSamuel;--5. The origin of the kingly authority in Israel;--and 6. Thehistory of their two first kings. " These again may be sub-divided intotheir several parts, of which the last will form a good example. Itappears in the Analysis in the following form: VI. History of their two first kings. I. Of Saul, and the time of his reign, ver. 21. Ii. Of David, and his character. 1. Saul was removed to make room for David, ver. 22. 2. David was chosen by God to be their king, ver. 22. 3. An account of David's character, and God's dealing with him. [1. ] God's testimony concerning David. (1. ) What David was, ver. 22. (2. ) What David was to do, ver. 22. [2. ] God's promise to David. (1. ) A Saviour was to be raised up for Israel, ver. 23. (2. ) This Saviour was to be of David's seed, ver. 23. Note R, p. 314. --There is not perhaps a subject in the whole range ofhuman investigation that is so much misunderstood in practice, as aperson's own happiness. Whatever causes uneasiness, or distress, oranxiety of mind, destroys happiness;--which shews that it is thispleasure, or delight itself, --this exercise of the heart, that we areseeking, and not the money, or the applause, or the sensual indulgences, which sometimes procure it. The heart of man has been made for somethinghigher and more noble than these grovelling objects of sense and time. History and experience shew, that it can never be satisfied with anyfinite good; and especially, the possession of all earthly enjoymentsonly leaves the void more conspicuous and more painful. The whole world, if it were attained, would but more powerfully illustrate its ownpoverty; for even Alexander weeps because there are no more worlds toconquer. Scripture declares, and Nature, so far as we can trace her, confirms it, that man--and man alone--was _made after the image ofGod_, --and therefore nothing short of God himself can ever satisfy_him_. Heaven itself would be inadequate to fill the soul, or to allaythe cravings of such a being. The fellowship and love of the Almighty, and that _alone_, by the very constitution of our nature, can fill andsatisfy the boundless desires of the human heart. They who stop short ofthis, can never be satisfied; while they who place their happiness onHIM, will always be full, because he alone is infinite. Thelove of God, and the desire for his glory then, are the only truefoundation of human happiness. And hence it is, that the perfection ofenjoyment, and the whole sum of duty, meet in this one point, --THELOVE OF GOD. Note S, p. 318. --The writer is aware that, in doing justice to thisdepartment of a child's education, it is impossible to avoid the chargeof "enthusiasm, " perhaps "illiberality, " or "fanaticism. " In what wehave urged in the preceding pages, we have endeavoured calmly to stateand illustrate simple facts, --plain indications of Nature, --and to drawthe obvious deductions which they suggest. We intend to follow preciselythe same course here, although quite aware that we are much more liableto be misunderstood, or misrepresented. We shall at least endeavourcalmly to put what we have to say upon a true philosophical basis. We all admire what is termed "Roman Greatness, "--that self-esteem thatwould not allow the possessor to degrade himself, even in his ownestimation, by indulging in any thing that was mean, or disreputable, orcontrary to the unchangeable rule of right. Cato's probity, who chose todie rather than appear to connive at selfishness; and Brutus's love ofjustice, who could, with a noble heroism, and without faltering, doomeven his own sons to death in the midst of the entreaties of his friendsfor their pardon, and the concurrence of the people;--are but two out ofnumberless instances from ancient history. Now we ask, if we admire, andapprove of men being so jealous of _their_ honour, is it to be imaginedthat the God who made them, and who implanted those high moralsentiments in their breasts, should be less jealous of _his_?--Every onewill acknowledge that he is infinitely more so. --And it is in accordancewith this true philosophical sentiment, that we come to the conclusion, that to teach religion, --that is, to teach the character of God, and theduty we owe him, --without what is called the "peculiar doctrines" ofChristianity, is to lower the character of the Almighty, and to impugnhis holiness, his faithfulness, his justice, and even hisgoodness;--things under the imputation of which even a high-minded Romanwould have felt himself degraded and insulted. In teaching Religion and Morality to the young, therefore, the pupilmust know, that God is too holy to look upon sin, or to connive atit;--too just to permit the very least transgression to pass withimpunity;--too faithful to allow his intimations, either in Nature, orin Providence, or in Scripture, ever to fail, or to be called inquestion, without danger;--and too good to risk the happiness of hisholy creatures, by allowing them to suppose it even _possible_ that theycan ever indulge in sin, and yet escape misery. Where a knowledge ofthese attributes of Deity is _wanting_, his character must appeargrievously defective; but wherever they are _denied_, it is mostblasphemously dishonoured. --Hence the importance of even a child knowinghow it is that "God can be just, while he justifies the ungodly. " All these perfections, with the additional revelation of his mercy andgrace, are exhibited, and greatly magnified and honoured, by theChristian scheme; and it is to the simplicity of this, as the foundationof the child's education, that we wish at present to direct theattention of the parent and teacher. A child may be taught to know that God hates sin, and that he must, as ajust God, punish even the least transgression. There is no difficulty inunderstanding this simple truth. And it may be made equally clear, thatman must have suffered for himself, and that for ever, if God had notsent his Son Jesus Christ to endure in their place the punishment whichthe inflexible nature of his justice required. To believe that God willpardon sin _without_ such an atonement, is, as we have shewn, to sullythe character of God; while to believe it, and to act upon the belief, is at once the highest honour we can pay to his perfections, and becomesthe strongest possible stimulant to a grateful heart to avoid sin, andto strive to love and to obey Him. This accordingly is the sum ofChristianity, when divested of its technicalities; and this is thefoundation, --and the only proper foundation, upon which to rear eithermorality or religion. But it _does_ form a solid and ample foundationfor that purpose. And there is perhaps no Christian of any sect who willdeny, that either child or adult, who simply depends for pardon andacceptance with a holy God, on the substitution of the Saviour, and who, in evidence of his sincerity, strives to hate and avoid sin, and to loveand obey God, is not in a safe state. In teaching these simple fundamental truths to the young, the parent orteacher will find the "Shorter Confession of Faith, " of great use. Its"First Step" ought to be taught first; and the second must on no accountbe proceeded with, till the truths in the first have become familiar. The same rule ought also to be adopted with the second, before passingto the third. The "First Initiatory Catechism" has also been found ofgreat benefit to the young; and which is very easily and successfullytaught by means of its Key. The foundation being thus laid, the great object of the teacher then isto train the child to duty;--teaching, in a familiar way, what _conduct_ought to be avoided, and what pursued, --what is displeasing to God, andwhat he delights in. This can only be done, or at least is best done, bydrawing lessons from Scripture. The very commandment, "Thou shalt notsteal, " is dealt with by Nature in this way; for when we examine theoperation of the mind, when acting even upon the direct precept, we findthat it assumes the form of a lesson, which in that case is only an echoof the command. Scripture example and narrative, however, are alwayspreferable with children; and perhaps the best method of initiating theminto the ability to perceive and draw lessons generally, will be tobegin and carry them forward by means of the "Progressive Exercises" atthe end of the First Initiatory Catechism. Very young children are ableto _commence_ this important exercise; and the information anddirections given in the Key will enable any monitor to carry themforward. The application of the lessons ought to be the principal concern of theteacher. On this much of their utility depends, and of which thefollowing will afford a sufficient example. In the 5th line of the "Progressive Exercises, " above referred to, theannouncement is simply that "Rebekah was obliging, "--from which thechild will readily enough draw the lesson, that "we also should beobliging. " But to _apply_ this lesson, the teacher is to suppose acorresponding case, and to ask the child how it ought to behave on thatoccasion. For example, he may ask, "If a companion wanted a sight ofyour book, what should you do?" "Lend it to him. "--"From what do you getthat lesson?" "From Rebekah being obliging. "--"If you saw your companiondrop his ball, or his marble, without perceiving it, what should youdo?" "Pick it up and give it to him. "--"How do you know that you oughtto do that?" "From God giving Rebekah as our example, who was obliging. " The field which here opens up for the ingenuity of the teacher for themoral improvement of the young is almost boundless. Note T, p. 318. --The method which both Nature and experience havepointed out, as the best for giving a practical knowledge of theprinciples of Natural Philosophy to children, is to state and explainsome general principle, such as, that "Soft and porous bodies are badconductors (of heat;") and then set them to think, by asking whatspecial lessons that general truth teaches them. This leads the pupil toa train of thought, which will at all events prepare him for the properlessons when suggested by the teacher, and which will enable him at onceto perceive why his mother has to make use of a cloth when using thesmoothing iron; why a metal tea-pot must have a wooden handle;--why softclothing preserves the heat of his body, and keeps him warm;--and whythe poker by the fire gets heated throughout, while a piece of wood, thesame length and in the same spot, remains comparatively cool. To teach the phenomena of Nature, out of their mutual relations to thegeneral principle, would be both laborious and evanescent, because ofthe want of the great connecting link, afforded by the analytical methodhere supposed. It was by the above means that the children, in theexperiment in Aberdeen, and more especially those in that at Newry, appeared to the examinators to be inexhaustible; they having, during aspace of time unprecedentedly short, got hold of principles whichenabled them, without any great stretch of memory, and by theassociation of ideas, to account for hundreds of familiar objects andcircumstances, the nature and working of which they had never perhapsthought of before. The application of the lessons in these exercises is equally necessary, and equally beneficial. It may be _directly_ from some of the lessonsdrawn, such as, "Why is it inconvenient to handle hot irons?" "Becausehard bodies readily conduct heat. " Or it may be varied by asking thereason of a phenomenon not formerly perceived;--such as, "Why does thefire scorch the foot when it is without a stocking, and not when we havea stocking on?" "Because soft bodies, such as the stocking, do notreadily conduct heat. " These are sufficient as specimens of the mode ofconducting classes upon these principles; the "Steps, " and their "Keys, "constructed for the purpose, will assist both teacher and pupil in theirproper working. Note U, p. 320. --In teaching children to read, two things are to bespecially observed. --_First_, that the child shall know that the lettersin a syllable are used merely as the signs of sound, by the combinationof which he is to get a _hint_ only of the sound of the whole word. Thiswill very soon enable him to teach himself. --The _second_ is, that thechild shall know that his reading is only another way of getting attruth by words _seen_, instead of words _heard_. This will make himsearch for the ideas, even while learning to read; and the habit beingformed, he will never afterwards be satisfied without understanding allthat he reads. The letters of the Alphabet, with their powers, having been madefamiliar, the "First Class Book" may be put into the pupil's hand, andthe first word taught him by the combination of the threeletters, --"Bob. " Shew him how the letters pronounced shortly, andrapidly one after another, _form the word_. He will then be able to_read_ this word wherever he finds it. The word "has, " is to be taughtin the same way, and then the word "dog. " He must then be asked, "Whohas a dog?" and "What has Bob?" till he understands that these threewords convey an idea. The second and succeeding lines are to be taughtthe same way;--the teacher making him read the words in different parts_out of their order_, to take care that he does not repeat by rote. At every new lesson he must learn to read the words which precede it, and to read them _well_ before beginning. The great design of hisreading being to collect the ideas conveyed by the words, his doing sois greatly facilitated by his learning to read the words beforebeginning to the lesson. It is only necessary to remark, that thehomely nature of the lessons tends greatly to produce the effect heredesigned, and which would not perhaps be so successfully accomplished atthis stage in any other way. Children may be taught to _write_ almost as soon as they can read a fewof their lessons. Care being taken that they hold the pen properly, theywill soon learn to form the letters as an amusement;--and when these areknown, they will soon be able to combine them into words. When theybegin to write sentences, it ought to be from their own minds, ormemories, but not from copies. Writing is merely an imitation of Naturein her operation of conveying ideas by speech; and the nearer theimitation can be made to correspond with the original, the more perfectwill it be. Speech is intended solely for the communication of ourideas;--and so should writing. We teach children words and the names ofthings, but we never teach them to express their own thoughts, byrehearsing after us either long or short speeches of our own. Neithercan we so readily teach children to express their own thoughts bywriting, if we attempt to do it by making them copy words which othershave thought for them, and the ideas of which they themselves perhaps donot perceive. Copy-lines are a great hinderance to the young; and evenfor teaching the correct and elegant formation of the letters they donot appear to be always necessary. Note V, p. 320. --Arithmetic, and numerical calculations of every kind, are wrought by what have been termed "the four simple Rules, " viz. Addition, Subtraction, Multiplication, and Division. They who are expertand accurate in working _these_, have only to learn the several rules bywhich they are applied to all the varied purposes of life, to be perfectarithmeticians. But when the working of these four rules is analysed, we find that, withthe exception of the multiplication table, the whole four are merelydifferent applications of the rule of addition. Subtraction is wrought by_adding_ a supposed sum to the figure to be subtracted;--multiplication(with the exception mentioned above, ) it wrought simply by _adding_ thecarryings and the aggregate of the several lines;--and division, with thesame exception, is also in practice wrought by a series of _additions_. Ifthen we shall suppose the multiplication table fully mastered, it follows, that the person who has attained greatest expertness _in addition_, willbe the most expert in the working of any and every arithmetical exercise towhich he may be called. But _expertness_ in arithmetical calculations, is by no means sovaluable as _accuracy_;--and upon the above principle, it also follows, that the person who acquires the greatest degree of accuracy andconfidence in working _addition_, must, of course, be most accurate inall his calculations. The importance of this principle will be much moreprized by and bye than it can be at present;--we shall however shew herehow it may be taken advantage of. Upon the principle of Individuation, we have seen, that a child willlearn one thing much better and sooner _by itself_, than when it ismixed up with several others; and therefore we come to the conclusion, that a child, when taught the practice of addition by itself, till he isfully master of it, both as respects rapidity and accuracy, hasafterwards little more to do than to get a knowledge of rules. Onemonth's systematic exercise in _this way_, will do more in forming adesirable accountant for a desk, than a whole year's exercise otherwise. In the one case, the pupil starts to the race without preparation, andwith all his natural impediments clinging to him, which he has todisentangle and throw off one by one during the fatigues and turmoil ofthe contest; while the other, on the contrary, delays his start till hehas deliberately searched them out and cast them aside, and thusprepared himself for the course. He then starts vigorous and light, tooutstrip his labouring and lumbering competitors, not only in this, butin every after trial of strength and skill of a similar kind. To follow out this plan with success, the "Arithmetic Rod, " containingthree sides, has been provided. On one side there is a single line offigures, on the second two, and on the third three. These lines offigures for a school, ought to be painted on three boards sufficientlylarge for all to see them distinctly. The first line is to be masteredperfectly, before the second or the third is to be taught. The way to begin with the first line, is to make the pupil mentally adda certain sum to each figure on the board, say two, or seven, orfourteen, or any other sum, beginning always with a small one. He isbesides to add the carryings also to each figure, and to write down thesum as he goes on. The beginner may be exercised with the sum of two, oreven one, and have the sum increased, as he acquires a knowledge of themethod. These sums, as the pupils advance, may be extended to anyamount. The Key will shew, in every case, whether the exercise has beenaccurately performed; and by marking the time in any particular case, the teacher can measure exactly, every week or month, the advance ofeach pupil. The mental advantages of this exercise are numerous. Among other thingsit trains to a great command of the mind; and brings into exercise animportant principle formerly illustrated, (Part III. Ch. Xi. P. 288, ) bywhich the pupil acquires the ability to think one thing, and to doanother. When the pupil is sufficiently expert at one line of figures, he shouldbe exercised upon the B side of the rod, containing the double line. Heis to practise adding each pair of the figures at a glance, --till he canrun them over without difficulty, as if they were single figures. He isthen to add a sum to _them_, as he did on the single line, till he canadd the sum and the double figure as readily as he did one. The C sideof the rod is to be treated in the same way;--first by adding all thethree figures at a glance, and naming the sum of each, till he can do itas readily as if there was but one; and then he is to add any specialsum to them as before. Note W, p. 321. --Children generally delight in music, and seldom wearyin its exercise. It forms therefore, when judiciously managed, a mostuseful exercise in a school for the purposes of relaxation and variety, and for invigorating their minds after a lengthened engagement in drierstudies. It thus not only becomes desirable to teach music in theseminary as a branch of education for after life, but for the purposesof present expediency. That music may be taught to the young in a manner much more simple thanit has yet generally been done, is now matter of experience. The notesare only _seven_, and these are each as precise and definite inproportion to the key note as any letter in the alphabet. There isobviously no difficulty in teaching a child seven figures, --and there isin reality as little difficulty in teaching him seven notes; so that, having the key note, he will, in reading a tune, sound each in its orderwhen presented to him, as readily and accurately as he would read somany figures. To render this exercise more simple to children, and more convenient ina school, the notes have been represented by figures, 1 being the keynote. The other notes rise in the common gradation from 1 to 8, which isthe key note in alt. By this means, the teacher by writing on the commonblack board a few figures, gives the children the tune, which a verylittle practice enables them to read as readily as they would the wordsto which they adapt it. For particulars as to time, &c. See "Shorter Catechism Hymn Book, " p. 23and 24. Note X, p. 264. --There is perhaps no department in the family economywhich ought to be so cautiously filled up as the _nursery maid_; and yetwe generally find, that the duties of this office are frequently handedover to any thoughtless giddy girl, whose appearance is "shewy, "although she be without education, without experience, and often withoutprinciple. Why there has been as yet no regular seminary for thetraining of young persons of good principles, for the responsible dutiesof the nursery, is not a little remarkable. Not one of the many valuableinstitutions for particular classes is so much wanted, and which, ifproperly conducted, would be a greater blessing to families and tosociety generally. One of the most beautiful features in our infantschools is the circumstance, that they have tended greatly to lessenthis evil, and in some measure to supply the desideratum. Note Y, p. 268. --The question of rewards and punishments in a publicschool is a difficult one; and although there has of late been anobvious improvement in this respect, we are afraid that the principleswhich ought to regulate them are not yet very clearly understood. Hencethe contrariety of sentiments on the subject, with little more than mere_opinions_ offered to support them. The following few crude thoughts onthe subject, may perhaps lead others better qualified to consider itmore extensively. We can all readily enough distinguish the difference between _physical_efforts, _intellectual_ efforts, and _moral_ efforts; but we are veryready to confound the rewards which, we think, Nature has pointed outas most appropriate to each. For physical exertions, such as the race, or the wrestling match, physical returns appear natural and appropriateenough; and therefore, money, decorations, or other physical honours, are the ordinary rewards for excelling in any of them. But to desiremoney as a return for intellectual excellence, appears to every wellconstituted mind as sordid and unseemly. The reward for the exertion ofintellect must partake of intellectual dignity; and hence it is, thatesteem, applause, or admiration, --the incense of the _mind_, --appears tobe the natural return for such exertions. In proof of this, we mayinstance the sensible degradation which is felt, when the rewardproffered for mental efforts, even in children, takes the form of food, or clothing, or money;--and the kind of estimation in which studentshold their medals, books, and other prizes, acquired at their severalseminaries. These are never valued for their intrinsic worth, but onlyas permanent signs of _approbation_, or _admiration_, --feelings whichare purely intellectual in their character, and perfectly distinct fromthe grossness of physical rewards on the one hand, and theaffections--the moral incense of the _heart_, --on the other. All this appears pretty evident; and it obviously leads us to the nextand concluding step, which is, that the natural and proper reward for_moral_ actions, ought to partake of the moral character. It is the loveand affection of those we serve, or who are called on to estimate, or todecide on the character of our actions, --that is the proper, thenatural, the desirable return. A little consideration, we think, willshew us, that this, as a general principle, is really correct; and thatapplause, admiration, or wonder, when they are afforded without_affection_, do not satisfy the heart, that in the exercise of love, seeks love in return. --It is the friendship, the fellowship, theaffections of those whom we aim at pleasing, that alone can approveitself to our minds as the appropriate returns for moral actions. Note Z, p. 299. --The following are a few specimens of the paraphrasticexercise, as employed upon different subjects:-- "But Martha was [_cumbered_] [_about much serving_, ] and came to[_him_, ] and said, Lord, [_dost thou not care_] that my sister hath leftme to [_serve_] alone? [_bid_] her, therefore, that she [_help_] me. " This verse is paraphrased in the Help to Luke by substituting theexplanation of the words printed in Italics, and within brackets, forthe words themselves, in the following manner: "_But Martha was_ [much incommoded and harassed] [to get every thing inorder for the temporal accommodation of Jesus and his disciples, ] _andcame to_ [Jesus, ] _and said, Lord_, [art thou indifferent or carelessabout the circumstance] _that my sister hath left me to_ [prepare thevictuals, and do all the work of the house] _alone_? [Command] _her, therefore, that she_ [leave her seat at thy feet, and come to assist]_me_. " "Every thing [_in nature_] [_shews forth_] God's [_wisdom_, ] [_power_, ]and [_goodness_;] but the Bible, which is the [_word of God_, ] and whichwas [_written_] by [_holy_] men at [_different times_, ] under [_hisdirection_, ] has most [_clearly_] [_revealed_] what [_God is_, ] what hehas done and what [_we should do_. "] This is paraphrased in the Key to the Second Initiatory Catechism thus: "_Every thing_ [that has been made in the world and sky] [gives clearand constant proof of] _God's_ [chusing the best ends, and accomplishingthese by the best means, ] [his being able to do any thing, and everything, ] _and_ [never ceasing to care for, and to promote the happinessof all his creatures;]--_but the Bible, --which is the_ [only declarationof God's mind and will to man, ] _and which was_ [composed, and put, withpen and ink, upon parchment or paper, ] _by_ [good and pious] _men, at_[dates long distant from each other, ] _under_ [the care of God, who toldthem what they were to write, ]--_has most_ [distinctly and plainly, ][brought into view, and let us know, ] _what_ [God's character andperfections are, ] _what he has done, and what_ [is our duty, both to Godand man. "] "The [_word of God_, ] which is contained in the [_Scriptures_] of theOld and New Testament, is the only [_rule_] to [_direct us_] how we mayglorify and enjoy him. " This is paraphrased in the Key to the Shorter Catechism in the followingmanner: "_The_ [revelation of God's will, ] _which is contained in the_[writings] _of the Old and New Testament, is the only_ [guide] _to_[give us information] _how we may glorify and enjoy him_. " Note A a, p. 321. --Nature has obviously intended that all men should beboth physically and mentally employed; and that, for the propermaintenance of health, the time occupied by _physical_ exercise, oughtin general to exceed that which is employed exclusively in study. Thecombination of both in ordinary cases, however, is still more plainlyindicated. In the circumstances of the young, physical exercise ispeculiarly necessary. The writer looks forward with confidence to atime, when to every seminary of eminence will be attached a sufficientplot of ground for gardening and agricultural purposes, that thephysical energies of the pupils may not be allowed irregularly to run towaste, as at present; but when they shall be systematically directed tointeresting, and at the same time to useful purposes. The hand-swing, although an excellent substitute, will never cope in interest, even to achild, with the moderate use of the hoe, the rake, or the spade. Such asystem will produce many and valuable advantages to the young. Gardening, by postponing the results of labour, exciting hope, and byits daily advances, encouraging to perseverance, will tend to produce amost beneficial moral effect; and will greatly assist the teacher inestablishing and strengthening some of those valuable checks upon thevolatility of the young mind, which are exceedingly necessary for theproper conduct of life, but which there is usually but small opportunityof cultivating in youth. But even then, for the proper conducting of a school, there will, for_in-door exercise_, be something more required than has yet beenprovided, both as to kind and degree. When we examine a number ofchildren at play, we seldom find them sitting, or even standing for anylength of time, when they have space and opportunity to exercise theirlimbs. The hand-motions of the infant schools, therefore, althoughexcellent so far as they go, do not go far enough; and even the marchingof the children is obviously too monotonous, and not sufficientlylively, for throwing off the accumulated mass of animal spirits, whichis so speedily formed in young persons while engaged at their lessons. It was to supply this defect that the writer, a number of years ago, made some experiments with a large class of children, and with completesuccess. The exercise was founded on the singing and marching of theinfant schools, and consisted in what is known in certain seminaries, as"Rights and Lefts. " The children were taught to meet each other in bandsof equal number, and by giving the right and left hand alternately tothose who came in the opposite direction, they undulated, as it were, through each others ranks, and passed on to their own music, till theymet again on the other side of the room, and proceeded as before. Theexercise thus afforded to the upper and lower extremities of each child, the expansion caused to the chest, and the play given to the muscles ofthe back and body, are exceedingly beneficial; and the whole beingregulated by their own song, gives healthy, and not excessive exerciseto the lungs and the whole circulation. It was also found, that this amusing employment for the young, wascapable of great variety. Instead of two bands meeting each other in_lines_ in opposite directions, and parting, to meet again at the otherside of the room, they were formed into a circle, one-half moving in onedirection, and one-half moving in the opposite, by which means thecircle was never broken. It was also found, that one of these circles, containing six or eight children only, could move within the other whenit contained a larger number, without those in the one interfering inthe least with those of the other; and the effect became still moreimposing when _between_ these, and _without_ them, two other bands ofchildren joined hands, united in the song, and moved round in oppositedirections. These details may appear trifling to some; but experience will soonconvince practical men, that in education, as in Nature, the most simplemeans often produce the most powerful and the most beneficial results. THE END. +-----------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Footnotes listed as a Note followed by a letter are | | gathered together at the end of the book. | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document has been preserved. | | | | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | Page 20 he changed to be | | Page 28 vallies changed to valleys | | Page 36 pullies changed to pulleys | | Page 38 bye changed to by | | Page 45 recal changed to recall | | Page 57 inconsistences changed to inconsistencies | | Page 59 recal changed to recall | | Page 61 he changed to be | | Page 67 oppreseive changed to oppressive | | Page 68 word "is" added | | Page 73 recals changed to recalls | | Page 77 harrassed changed to harassed | | Page 103 missle changed to missile | | Page 113 decrepid changed to decrepit | | Page 120 pronouned changed to pronounced | | Page 142 slighest changed to slightest | | Page 144 intance changed to instance | | Page 150 educa- changed to education | | Page 152 Jessus changed to Jesus | | Page 166 fourteeen changed to fourteen | | Page 168 Pestalozzie's changed to Pestalozzi's | | Page 169 unnaccountable changed to unaccountable | | Page 183 recal changed to recall | | Page 192 missing word "be" supplied | | Page 195 indispensible changed to indispensable | | Page 197 exceeedingly changed to exceedingly | | Page 197 recal changed to recall | | Page 210 comtemplation changed to contemplation | | Page 211 soffa changed to sofa | | Page 234 than changed to then | | Page 245 Terrestial changed to Terrestrial | | Page 277 forwarned changed to forewarned | | Page 280 aplication changed to application | | Page 283 speciment changed to specimen | | Page 302 faultering changed to faltering | | Page 326 Princiciples changed to Principles | | Page 333 desireable changed to desirable | | Page 339 faultering changed to faltering | | Page 340 ungodily changed to ungodly | +-----------------------------------------------------+