Tell me, gentle Reader, whether thou hast not heard of the box of Pandora, which was no sooner opened by the unhappy Epimetheus, than it gave flight to a troop of malevolent spirits, which have ever since tormented the human race.--Behold!--I here present you with a magic casket, containing a GENIUS alone capable of counteracting their direful spells. Thou mayest, perhaps, say that its aspect but ill accords with the richness of its promised treasure; so appeared the copper vessel found by the fisherman, as related in the Arabian tale; but, remember, that no sooner had he broken its mystic seal, than the imprisoned genius spread itself over the ocean and raised its giant limbs above the clouds. But this was an evil and treacherous spirit; mine is as benevolent as he is mighty, and seeks communion with our race for no other object than to render mortals virtuous and happy. To be plain, for you must already, my young friends, have unriddled my allegory, his name is Philosophy. In your progress through life, be not so vain as to believe that you will escape the evils with which its path is beset. Arm yourselves, therefore, with the talisman that can, at once, deprive adversity of its sting, and prosperity of its dangers; for such, believe me, is the rare privilege of philosophy. I must now take leave of you, for a short time, in order that I may address a few words to your parents and preceptors; but, as I have no plot to abridge your liberties, or lengthen your hours of study, you may listen to my address without alarm, and to my plan without suspicion. Imagine not, however, that I shall recommend the dismissal of the cane, or the whip; on the contrary, I shall insist upon them as necessary and indispensable instruments for the accomplishment of my design. But the method of applying them will be changed; with the one I shall construct the bow of the kite, with the other I shall spin the top. The object of the present work is to inculcate that early love of science which can never be derived from the sterner productions. Youth is naturally addicted to amusement, and in this item his expenditure too often exceeds his allotted income. I have, therefore, taken the liberty to draw a draft upon Philosophy, with the full assurance that it will be gratefully repaid, with compound interest, ten years after date. But to be serious; those who superintend the education of youth should be apprised of the great importance of the first impressions. Rousseau has said, that the seeds of future vices or virtues are more frequently sown by the mother than the tutor; thereby intimating, that the characters of men are often determined by the earliest impressions; and, of so much moment did Quintillian regard this truth, that he recommends to us the example of Philip, who did not suffer any other than Aristotle to teach Alexander to read. In like manner those who do not commence their study of nature at an early season, will afterwards have many unnecessary obstacles to encounter. The difficulty of comprehending the principles of Natural Philosophy frequently arises from their being at variance with those false ideas which early associations have impressed upon the mind; the first years of study are, therefore, expended in unlearning, and in clearing away the weeds, which would never have taken root in a properly cultivated soil. Writers on practical education have repeatedly advocated the advantages of the plan I am so anxious to enforce; but, strange to say, it is only within a few years that any works have appeared at all calculated to afford the necessary assistance. In short, previous to the labours of Mrs. Marcet and Miss Edgeworth, the productions published for the purpose of juvenile instruction may be justly charged with the grossest errors; and must have proved as destructive to the mind of the young reader, as the book presented by the physician Douban is said to have been to the Grecian king, who, as the Arabian tale relates, imbibed fresh poison as he turned over each leaf, until he fell lifeless in the presence of his courtiers; or, to give another illustration, as mischievous as the magic volume of Michael Scott, which, as Dempster informs us, could not be opened without the danger of invoking some malignant fiend by the operation. How infinitely superior in execution and purpose are the juvenile works of the present century!--to borrow a metaphor from Coleridge, they may be truly said to resemble a collection of mirrors set in the same frame, each having its own focus of knowledge, yet all capable of converging to one point. Allow me, friendly Reader, before I conclude my address, to say a few words upon the plan and execution of the work before you. It is not intended to supersede or clash with any of the elementary treatises to which I have alluded; indeed its plan is so peculiar, that I apprehend such a charge cannot be brought against it. The author originally composed it for the exclusive use of his children, and would certainly never have consigned it to the press, but at the earnest solicitations of those friends upon whose judgment he places the utmost reliance. Let this be received as an answer to those, who, believing that they can recognise the writer, may be induced to exclaim with Menedemus in Terence,--“Tantumne est ab re tu otii tibi aliena ut cures, eaque nihil quÆ ad te attinent?” It is scarcely necessary to offer any apology for the conversational plan of instruction; the success of Mrs. Marcet’s dialogues has placed its value beyond dispute. It may, however, be observed, that this species of composition may be executed in two different ways, either as direct conversation, where none but the speakers appear, which is the method used by Plato; or as the recital of a conversation, where the author himself appears, and gives an account of what passed in discourse, which is the plan generally adopted by Cicero. The reader is aware, that Mrs. Marcet, in her “Conversations on Philosophy,” has adopted the former, while Miss Edgeworth, in her “Harry and Lucy,” has preferred the latter method. In composing the present work I have followed the plan of the last-mentioned authoress. Its advantages over the more direct conversational style appear to consist in allowing occasional remarks, which come more aptly from the author than from any of the characters engaged in the dialogue. If scientific dialogues are less popular in our times than they were in ancient days, it must be attributed to the frigid and insipid manner in which they have too frequently been executed; if we except the mere external forms of conversation, and that one character is made to speak, and the other to answer, they are altogether the same as if the author himself spoke throughout the whole, instead of amusing with a varied style of conversation, and with a display of consistent and well-supported characters. The introduction of a person of humour, to enliven the discourse, is sanctioned by the highest authority. CÆsar is thus introduced by Cicero, and Cynthio by Addison. In the introduction of Mr. Twaddleton and Major Snapwell, I am well aware of the criticisms to which I am exposed; I have exercised my fancy with a freedom and latitude, for which, probably, there is not any precedent in a scientific work. I have even ventured so far to deviate from the beaten track as to skirmish upon the frontiers of the Novelist, and to bring off captive some of the artillery of Romance; but if, by so doing, I have enhanced the interest of my work, and furthered the accomplishment of its object, let me intreat that mere novelty may not be urged to its disparagement. The antiquarian Vicar, however, will, I trust, meet with cordial reception from the classical student. As to Ned Hopkins, although he may not bear a comparison with William Summers, the fool of Henry VIII.--or with Richard Tarlton, who “undumpished Queen Elizabeth at his pleasure;” or with Archibald Armstrong (vulgo Archee) Jester to Charles,--yet I will maintain, in spite of the Vicar’s censure, that he is a right merry fellow, and to the Major, and consequently to our history, a most important accessary. If it be argued that several of my comic representations are calculated, like seasoning, to stimulate the palate of the novel-reader, rather than to nourish the minds of the younger class, for whom the work was written, I might, were I so disposed, plead common usage; for does not the director of a juvenile fÊte courteously introduce a few piquant dishes, for the entertainment of those elder personages who may attend in the character of a chaperone? You surely could not deny me the full benefit of such a precedent; and so, Gentle Reader, I bid thee--Farewell! 1. “Have you such leisure from your own affairs To think of those that don’t concern you?” |