Chapter 18
Section 18 of Home Education, a course of lectures to ladies. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Jessica Taylor. Home Education, a course of lectures to ladies.
The education of children under nine years of age. Lessons as Instruments of Education, Part 4 History Much that has been said about the teaching of geography applies equally to that of history. Here, too, is a subject which should be to the child an inexhaustible storehouse of ideas,
should enrich the chambers of his house beautiful with a thousand tableaus, pathetic and heroic, and should form in him, insensibly, principles whereby he will hereafter judge of the behavior of nations and will rule his own conduct as one of a nation. This is what the study of history should do for the child. But what is he to get out of the miserable little chronicle of feuds, battles, and death,
which is presented to him by way of a reign, all the more repellent because it bristles with dates. As for the dates, they never come right. The tens and units he can get, but the centuries will go astray. And how is he to put the right events in the right reign
when to him one king differs from another only in number, one period from another only in date? But he blunders through with it, reads in his pleasant, chatty little history book all the reigns of all the kings,
from William the Conqueror to William IV, and back to the dim days of British rule. And with what result? This, that possibly no way of warping the judgment of the child, of filling him with crude notions, narrow prejudices,
is more successful than that of carrying him through some such course of English history, and all the more so if his little textbook be moral or religious in tone, and undertakes to point the moral as well as to record the fact. Moral teaching falls, no doubt, within the province of history, but the one small volume which the child uses affords no scope for the fair and reasonable discussion upon which moral
decisions should be based, nor is the child old enough to be put into the judicial attitude which such a decision supposes. The fatal mistake is in the notion that he must learn outlines, or a baby edition of the whole history of England, or of Rome, just as he must cover the geography of all the world. Let him, on the contrary, linger pleasantly over the history of a single man, a short period, until he thinks the thoughts of that man is at home in the ways of that period.
Though he is reading and thinking of the lifetime of a single man, he is really getting intimately acquainted with the history of a whole nation for a whole age. Let him spend a year of happy intimacy with Alfred, the truth-teller, with the conqueror, with Richard and Saladin, or with Henry V, Shakespeare's Henry V, and his victorious army. Let him know the great people and the common people, the ways of the court and of the crowd. Let him know what other nations were doing while
we at home were doing thus and thus. If he come to think that the people of another age were truer, larger-hearted, simpler-minded than ourselves, that the people of some other land were, at one time at any rate, better than we. Why so much the better for him? For the matter for this intelligent teaching of history, eschew in the first place nearly all history books written expressly for children, and in the next place, all compendiums, outlines, abstracts, whatsoever. For the abstracts,
considering what part the study of history is fitted to play in the education of the child, there is not a word to be said in their favor. And as for what are called children's books, the children of educated parents are able to understand history written with literary power and are not attracted by the twaddle of reading-made-easy little history books. Given judicious skipping and a good deal of the free paraphrasing mothers are so ready at,
and the children may be taken through the first few volumes of a well-written, illustrated, popular history of England, say so far as the Tudors. In the course of such reading, a good deal of questioning into them and questioning out of them will be necessary both to secure their attention and to fix the facts. This is the least that should be done
but better than this would be fuller information more graphic details about two or three early epics. The early history of a nation is far better fitted than its later records for the study of children because the story moves on a few broad simple lines.
While statementship, so far as it exists, is no more than the efforts of a resourceful mind to cope with circumstances. Mr. Freeman has provided delightful early English history for children, but is it not on the whole better to take them straight to the fountainhead where possible? In these early years, while there are no examinations ahead,
and the children may yet go leisurely, Let them get the spirit of history into them by reading at least one old chronicle, written by a man who saw and knew something of what he wrote about, and did not get it at second hand. These old books are easier and pleasanter reading than most modern works on history,
because the writers know little of the dignity of history. They purl along pleasantly as a forest brook, tell you all about it, stir your heart with the story of a great event, amuse you with pageants and shows, make you intimate with the great people,
and friendly with the lowly. They are just the right thing for the children whose eager souls want to get at the living people behind the words of the history book, caring nothing at all about progress or statutes
or about anything but the persons for whose action history is, to the child's mind, no more than a convenient stage. A child who has been carried through a single old chronicler in this way has a better foundation for an historical training than if he knew all the dates and names and facts that ever were crammed for examination.
First, in order of time, and full of the most captivating reading, is the ecclesiastical history of England, of the venerable Bede, who, writing of himself so early as the seventh century, says, It was always sweet to me to learn, to teach, and to write. He has left us, says Professor Morley, a history of the early years of England, succinct, yet often warm with life, businesslike and yet
childlike in its tone, at once practical and spiritual, simply just, and the work of a true scholar, breathing love to God and man. We owe to Bede alone the knowledge of much that is most interesting in our early history. William of Malmesbury, 12th century, says of Bede, that almost all knowledge of past events was buried in the same grave with him, and he is no bad judge, for in his Chronicles of the Kings of England,
he himself is considered to have carried to perfection the art of chronicle-making. He is especially vivid and graphic about contemporary events, the story of the dreary civil war of Stephen and Matilda. Meantime, there is Asser, who writes the life of Alfred, whose friend and fellow worker he is. It seems to me right, he says, to explain a little more fully what I have heard from my Lord Alfred.
He tells us how, when I had come into his presence at the royal ville, called Leoniford, I was honorably received by him, and remained that time with him at his court about eight months, during which I read to him whatever books he liked, and such as he had at hand, for this is his most usual custom, both night and day, amid his many other occupations of mind and body, either himself to read books or to listen whilst others read them. When he was not present to see
for himself, as at the Battle of Ashdown, Asser takes pains to get the testimony of eyewitnesses. But Alfred, as we have been told by those who were present and would not tell an untruth, marched up promptly with his men to give them battle, for King Æthelred remained a long time in his tent in prayer. Then there are Chronicles of the Crusades,
Contemporary Narratives of the Crusades of Richard Cœur de Lyon by Richard of Devizes and Geoffrey de Vincenny, and of the Crusade of St. Louis by Lord John de Joinville. It is needless to extend the list. One such old chronicle in a year, or the suitable bits of one such chronicle, and the child's imagination is aglow, his mind is teeming with ideas.
He has had speech of those who have themselves seen and heard. And the matter-of-fact way in which the old monks tell their tales is exactly what children prefer. Afterwards, you may put any dull outlines into their hands, and they will make history for themselves. But every nation has its heroic age before authentic history begins. There were giants in the land in those days, and the child wants to know about them.
He has every right to revel in such classic myths as we possess as a nation. And to land him in a company of painted savages by way of giving him his first introduction to his people is a little hard. It is to make his vision of the past harsh and bald as a Chinese painting. But what is to be done? If we ever had an Homeric age, have we not, being a practical people, lost all record thereof?
Here is another debt that we owe to those old monkish chroniclers. The echoes of some dim, rich past had come down to, at any rate, the twelfth century. They fell upon the ear of a Welsh priest, one Geoffrey of Monmouth, And while William of Malmesbury was writing his admirable History of the Kings of England,
what does Geoffrey do but weave the traditions of the people into an orderly history of the British kings, reaching back all the way to King Brute, the grandson of Aeneas? How he came to know about kings that no other historian has heard of is a matter he is a little roguish about.
He got it all, he says. out of that book in the British language which Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, brought out of Brittany. Be that as it may, here we read of Gorbaduck, King Lear, Merlin, Uther Pendragon, and best of all, of King Arthur, the writer making the little finger of his Arthur stouter than the back of Alexander the Great. Here is indeed a treasure trove which the children
should be made free of ten years before they come to read The Idols of the King. Some caution must, however, be exercised in reading Geoffrey of Monmouth. His tales of marvel are delightful, but when he quits the marvelous and romances freely about historical facts and personages, he becomes a bewildering guide. Many of these chronicles, written in Latin by the monks, are to be had in readable English.
The only caution to be observed is that the mother should run her eye over the pages before she reads them aloud. Footnote. Bones Antoquerian Library includes
Bede, William of Malmesbury, Dr. Giles' six old English chronicles, Asser and Geoffrey of Monmouth being two of them, Chronicles of the Crusaders, etc. End of footnote.
Froussart, again most delightful of chroniclers, himself tame about the court of Queen Philippa when he chose to be in England. From whom else should the child get the story of the French wars? And so, of as much else as there is time for,
the principle being that wherever practicable, the child should get his first notions of a given period, not from the modern historian, the commentator and reviewer, but from the original sources of history, the writings of contemporaries. The mother must, however, exercise discrimination in her choice of early chronicles, as all are not equally reliable. In the same way,
readings from Plutarch's lives will afford the best preparation for the study of Grecian or Roman history. Alexander the Great is something more than a name to the child who reads this sort of thing. Quote, when the horse Bucephalus was offered in sale to Philip at the price of 13 talents, the king, with the prince and many others, went into the field to see some trial made of him. The horse appeared very vicious and unmanageable, and was so far from suffering
himself to be mounted, that he would not bear to be spoken to, but turned fiercely upon all the grooms. Philip was displeased at their bringing him so wild and ungovernable a horse, and bade them take him away. But Alexander, who had observed him well, said, What a horse are they losing for want of skill and spirit to manage him! Philip at first took no notice of this, but upon the prince's often repeating the same expression and showing great uneasiness, he said,
Young man, you find fault with your elders as if you knew more than they, or could manage the horse better. And I certainly could, answered the prince. If you should not be able to ride him, what forfeiture will you submit to for your rashness?
I will pay the price of the horse. Upon this, all the company laughed. But the king and prince agreeing as to the forfeiture, Alexander ran to the horse, and, laying hold on the bridle, turned him to the sun,
for he had observed, it seems, that the shadow which fell before the horse, and continually moved as he moved, greatly disturbed him. While his fierceness and fury lasted, he kept speaking to him softly and stroking him,
after which he gently let fall his mantle, leaped lightly upon his back, and got his seat very safe. Then, without pulling the reins too hard, or using either whip or spur, he set him a-going. As soon as he perceived his uneasiness abated, and that he wanted only to run, he put him in a full gallop, and pushed him on both with the voice and spur. Philip and all his court were in great distress for him at first,
and a profound silence took place. But when the prince had turned him and brought him safe back, they all received him with loud exclamations, except his father, who wept for joy, and kissing him, said, Seek another kingdom, my son, that may be worthy of thy abilities,
for Macedonia is too small for thee. End of quote. Here again, even in a translation, we get the sort of vivid graphic presentation which makes history as real to the child as are the adventures of Robinson Crusoe. To sum up, to know what there is to be known about even one short period
is far better for the children than to know the outlines of all history. And in the second place, children are quite able to take in intelligent ideas an intelligent language, and should by no means be excluded from the best that is written on the period they are about. Grammar. Of grammar, Latin, and English, I shall say very little here. In the first place, grammar, being a study of words and not of things, is by no means attractive
to the child, nor should he be hurried into it. English grammar, again, depending as it does on the position and logical connection of words, is peculiarly hard for him to grasp. In this respect, the Latin grammar is easier. A change in the form, the shape of the word to denote case, is what the child can see with his bodily eye, and therefore is plainer to him than the abstract ideas of nominative and objective case as we have them in English. Therefore, if he learns no more
at this early stage than two declensions and a verb or two, it is well he should learn thus much, if only to help him to see what English grammar would be at when it speaks of a change in case or mood, yet shows no change in the form of the word. Again, because English grammar is a logical study and deals with sentences and the positions that words occupy in them, rather than with words and what they are in their own right, it is better that the child should begin with a sentence
and not with the parts of speech. Should learn a little of what is called analysis of sentences before he learns to parse. Should learn to divide simple sentences into the thing we speak of and what we say about it. The cat sits on the hearth before he is lost in the fog of person, mood, and part of speech.
French stands on another footing altogether and should be acquired as Englishes, not as a grammar, but as a living speech. To train the ear to distinguish and the lips to produce the French vocables
is a valuable part of the education of the senses and one which can hardly be undertaken too soon. Again, all educated persons should be able to speak French. Sir Lyon Playfair, speaking recently at a conference of French masters, lamented feelingly our degeneracy in this respect
and instanced the grammar school of Perth to show that in a Scotch school in the 16th century, the boys were required to speak Latin during school hours and French at all other times. There is hardly another civilized nation so dull in acquiring foreign tongues as we, English, of the present time.
But probably the fault lies rather in the way we set about the study than in any natural incapacity for languages. As regards French, for instance, our difficulties are twofold, the want of a vocabulary and a certain awkwardness in producing unfamiliar sounds. It is evident that both these hindrances should be removed in early childhood. The child should never see French words in print
until he has learned to say them with as much ease and readiness as if they were English. The desire to give printed combinations of letters the sounds they would bear in English words is the real cause of our national difficulty in pronouncing French. Again, the child's vocabulary should increase steadily say at the rate of half a dozen words a day.
Think of 1,500 words in a year. The child who has that number of words and knows how to apply them can speak French. Of course, his teacher will take care that in giving words she gives idioms also, and that as he learns new words, they are put into sentences and kept in use from day to day. A notebook in which she enters the child's new words and sentences
will easily enable the teacher to do this. The young child has no foolish shame about saying French words. He pronounces them as simply as if they were English, but it is very important that he should acquire a pure accent from the first. It is not often advisable that young English children
should be put into the hands of a French governess or nurse, But would it not be possible for half a dozen families, say, to engage a French lady who would give half an hour daily to each family? This long chapter must be brought to a close, with a disappointing sense that subjects of importance in the child's education
have been left out of count, and that no one subject has been adequately treated. Certain subjects of peculiar educational value, music and drawing, for instance, I have said nothing about, partly for want of space,
and partly because if the mother have not Sir Joshua Reynolds that in her, hints from an outsider will not produce the art feeling which is the condition of success in this sort of teaching. Let the children learn from the first under-artists, lovers of their work. It is a serious mistake to let the child lay the foundation of whatever he may do in the future under ill-qualified mechanical teachers,
who kindle in him none of the enthusiasm which is the life of art. May I hope, in concluding this short review of the subjects proper for the child's intellectual education, that enough has been said to show the necessity of grave consideration on the mother's part before she allows promiscuous little lesson books to be put into the hands of her children or trusts ill-qualified persons to strike out methods of teaching for themselves.
End of section 18.