$ 1. One of the great wants of middle-class education at present, is an ideal to work towards. Our old public schools have such an ideal. The model public school-man is a gentleman who is an elegant Latin and Greek scholar. True, this may not be a very good ideal, and some of our ablest men, both literary and scientific, are profoundly dissatisfied with it. But, so long as it is maintained, all questions of reform are comparatively simple. In middle-class schools, on the other hand, there is no terminus ad quem. A number of boys are got together, and the question arises, not simply how to teach, but what to teach. Where the masters are not university men, they are, it may be, not men of broad views or high culture. Of course no one will suppose me ignorant of the fact that a great number of teachers who have never been at a university, are both enlightened and highly cultivated; and also that many teachers who have taken degrees, even in honours, are neither. But, speaking broadly of the two classes, I may fairly assume that the non-university men are inferior in these respects to the graduates. If not, our universities should be reformed on Carlyle’s “live-coal” principle without further loss of time. Many non-university masters § 2. If there is any truth in what I have been saying, school-teaching, in subjects other than classics and mathematics (which I am not now considering), is very commonly a failure. And a failure it must remain until boys can be got to work with a will, in other words, to feel interest in the subject taught. I know there is a strong prejudice in some people’s minds against the notion of making learning pleasant. They remind us that school should be a preparation for after-life. After-life will bring with it an immense amount of drudgery. If, they say, things at school are made too easy and pleasant (words, by the way, very often and very erroneously confounded), school will cease to give the proper discipline: boys will be turned out not knowing what hard work is, which, after all, is the most important lesson that can be taught them. In these views I sincerely concur, so far as this at least, that we want boys to work hard, and vigorously to go through the necessary drudgery, i.e., labour in itself disagreeable. But this result is not attained by such a system as I have described. Boys do not learn to work hard, but in a dull stupid way, with most of their faculties lying dormant, and though they are put through a vast quantity of drudgery, they seem as incapable of throwing any energy into it as § 3. Observe, that although I would have boys take pleasure in their work, I regard the pleasure as a means, not an end. If it could be proved that the mind was best trained by the most repulsive exercises, I should most certainly enforce them. But I do not think that the mind is benefited by galley-slave labour; indeed, hardly any of its faculties are capable of such labour. We can compel a boy to learn a thing by heart, but we cannot compel him to wish to understand it; and the intellect does not act without the will (v. supra p. 193). Hence, when anything is required which cannot be performed by the memory alone, the driving system utterly breaks down; and even the memory, as I hope to show presently, works much more effectually in matters about which the mind feels an interest. Indeed, the mind without sympathy and interest is like the sea-anemone when the tide is down, an unlovely thing, closed against external influences, enduring existence as best it can. But let it find itself in a more congenial element, and it opens out at once, shows altogether unexpected capacities, and eagerly assimilates all the proper food that comes within its reach. Our school teaching is often little better than an attempt to get sea-anemones to flourish on dry land. § 4. We see then, that a boy, before he can throw energy into a study, must find that study interesting in itself, or in its results. Some subjects, properly taught, are interesting in themselves. Some subjects may be interesting to older and more thoughtful boys, from a perception of their usefulness. All subjects may be made interesting by emulation. § 5. Hardly any effort is made in some schools to § 6. Then again, there are many subjects in which children take an interest. Indeed, all visible things, especially animals, are much more to them than to us. A child has made acquaintance with all the animals in the neighbourhood, and can tell you much more about the house and its surroundings than you know yourself. But all this knowledge and interest you would wish forgotten directly he comes into school. Reading, writing, and figures are taught in the driest manner. The two first are in themselves not uninteresting to the child, as he has something to do, and young people are much more ready to do anything than to learn anything. But when lessons are given the child to learn, they are not about things concerning which he has ideas and feels an interest, but you teach him mere sounds—e.g., that Alfred (to him only a name) came to the throne in 871, though he has no § 7. We cannot often introduce into the school the thing, much less the animal, which children would care to see, but we can introduce what will please them as well, in some cases even better, viz., good pictures. A teacher who could draw boldly on the blackboard, would have no difficulty in arresting the children’s attention. But, at present, few can do this, and pictures must be provided. A good deal has been done of late years in the way of illustrating children’s books, and even childhood must be the happier for such pictures as those of Tenniel and Harrison Weir. But it seems well understood that these gentlemen are incapable of doing anything for children beyond affording them innocent amusement, and we should be as much surprised at seeing their works introduced into that region of asceticism, the English school-room, as if we ran across one of Raphael’s Madonnas in a Baptist chapel. § 8. I had the good fortune, many years ago, to be present at the lessons given by a very excellent teacher to the youngest class, consisting both of boys and girls, at the first BÜrger-schule of Leipzig. In Saxony the schooling which the state demands for each child, begins at six years I have been thus minute in my description of this lesson, because it seems to me an admirable example of the way in which children between six and eight years of age should be taught. The method (see RÜegg’s PÄdagogik, p. 360; also Die NormalwÖrtermethode, published by Orell, FÜssli, ZÜrich, 1876), was arranged and the book prepared by the late Dr. Vogel, who was then Director of the school. Its merits, as its author pointed out to me, are:—1. That it connects the instruction with objects of which the child has already an idea in his mind, and so associates new knowledge with old; 2. That it gives the children plenty to do as well as to learn, a point on which the Doctor was very emphatic; 3. That it makes the children go over the same matter in various ways till they have learnt a little thoroughly, and then applies their knowledge to the acquirement of more. Here the Doctor seems to have followed Jacotot. But though the method was no doubt a good one, I must say its success at Leipzig was due at least as much to Dr. Vater as to Dr. Vogel. This gentleman had been taking the youngest class in this school for twenty years, and, whether by practice or natural talent, he had acquired precisely the right manner for keeping children’s attention. He was energetic without bustle and excitement, and quiet without a suspicion of dulness or apathy. By § 9. Dr. Vater’s method for arithmetic I cannot now recall; but I do not doubt that, as a German teacher who had studied his profession, he understood what English teachers and pupil-teachers do not understand, viz., how children should get their first knowledge of numbers. Pestalozzi and Froebel insisted that children should learn about numbers from things which they actually counted; and, according to GrubÉ’s method, which I found in Germany over 30 years ago, and which is now extending to the United States, the whole of the first year is given to the relations of numbers not exceeding ten (see GrubÉ’s Method by L. Seeley, New York, Kellogg, and F. L. Soldan’s GrubÉ’s M., Chicago). In arithmetic everything depends on these relations becoming thoroughly familiar. The decimal scale is possibly not so good as the scale of eight or of twelve, but the human race has adopted it; and even the French Revolutionists, with all their belief in “reason,” and their hatred of the past, recoiled from any attempt to change it. But in accepting it, they endeavoured to remove anomalies, and so should we. Everything must be based on groups of ten; and with children we should do well, as Mr. W. Wooding suggests, to avoid the great anomaly in our nomenclature, and call the numbers between ten and twenty (i.e., twain-tens or two-tens), “ten-one, ten-two, &c.” Numeration should by a long way precede any kind of notation, and the main truths about numbers should Actual measuring and weighing, besides actual counting, go towards actual arithmetic for children. All this teaching, if conducted as Dr. Vater would have conducted it, would not give children any distaste for learning or make them dread the sound of the school bell. § 10. I will suppose a child to have passed through such a course as this by the time he is eight or nine years old. Besides having some clear notions of number and form, he can now read and copy easy words. What we next want for him is a series of good reading-books, about things in which he takes an interest. The language must of course be simple, but the matter so good that neither master nor pupils will be disgusted by its frequent repetition. The first volume may very well be about animals—dogs, horses, &c., of which large pictures should be provided, illustrating the text. The first cost of these pictures would be considerable, but as they would last for years, the expense to the friends of each child taught from them would be a mere trifle. § 11. The books placed in the hands of the children should be well printed and strongly bound. In the present penny-wise system, school-books are given out in cloth, and § 12. After each reading lesson, which should contain at least one interesting anecdote, there should be columns of all the words which occurred for the first time in that lesson. These should be arranged according to their grammatical classification, not that the child should be taught grammar, but this order is as good as any other, and by it the child would learn to observe certain differences in words almost unconsciously. Here I cannot resist quoting an excellent remark from Helps’s Brevia (p. 125). “We should make the greatest progress in art, science, politics, and morals, if we could train up our minds to look straight and steadfastly and uninterruptedly at the thing in question that we are observing. This seems a very slight thing to do; but practically it is hardly ever done. Between you and the object rises a mist of technicalities, of prejudices, of previous knowledge, and, above all, of terrible familiarity.” Perhaps § 13. Easy descriptive and narrative poetry should be learnt by heart at this stage. That the children may repeat it well, they should get their first notions of it from the master viv voce. According to the usual plan, they get it up with false emphasis and false stops, and the more thoroughly they have learnt the piece, the more difficulty the master has in making them say it properly. § 14. Every lesson should be worked over in various ways. The columns of words at the end of the reading lessons may be printed with writing characters, and used for copies. To write an upright column either of words or figures is an excellent exercise in neatness. The columns will also be used as spelling lessons, and the children may be questioned about the meaning of the words. The poetry, when thoroughly learned, may sometimes be written from memory. Sentences from the book may be copied either directly or from the black-board, and afterwards used for dictation. § 15. Boys should, as soon as possible, be accustomed to write out fables, or the substance of other reading lessons, in their own words. They may also write descriptions of things with which they are familiar, or any event which has recently happened, such as a country excursion. Every one feels the necessity, on grounds of practical utility at all events, of boys being taught to express their thoughts neatly on paper, in good English and with correct spelling. Yet this is a point rarely reached before the age of fifteen or sixteen, often never reached at all. The reason is, that written exercises must be carefully looked over by the master, or they are done in a slovenly manner. Anyone § 16. The course of reading-books, accompanied by large illustrations, may go on to many other things which the children see around them, such as trees and plants, and so lead up to instruction in natural history and physiology. But in imparting all knowledge of this kind, we should aim, not at getting the children to remember a number of facts, but at opening their eyes, and extending the range of their interests. § 17. I should suggest, then, for children, three books to be used concurrently, viz., a reading book about animals and things, a poetry book, and a prose narrative or Æsop’s Fables. With the first commences a series culminating in works of science; with the second, a series that should lead up to Milton and Shakespeare; the third should be succeeded by some of our best writers in prose. § 18. But many schoolmasters will shudder at the thought of a child’s spending a year or two at school without ever hearing of the Heptarchy or Magna Charta, and without knowing the names of the great towns in any country of Europe. I confess I regard this ignorance with great equanimity. If the child, or the youth even, takes no interest in the Heptarchy and Magna Charta, and knows nothing of the towns but their names, I think him quite as We will suppose that a parent meets with a book which he thinks will be both instructive and entertaining to his children. But the book is a large one, and would take a long time to get through; so instead of reading any part of it to them or letting them read it for themselves, he makes them learn by heart the table of contents. The children do not find it entertaining; they get a horror of the book, which prevents their ever looking at it afterwards, and they forget what they have learnt as soon as they possibly can. Just such is the sagacious plan adopted in teaching history and geography in schools, and such are the natural consequences. Every student knows that the use of an epitome is to systematise knowledge, not to communicate it, and yet, in teaching, we give the epitome first, and allow it to precede, or rather to supplant, the knowledge epitomised. The children are disgusted, and no wonder. The subjects, indeed, are interesting, but not so the epitomes. I suppose if we could see the skeletons of the Gunnings, we should not find them more fascinating than any other skeletons. § 19. The first thing to be aimed at, then, is to excite the children’s interest. Even if we thought of nothing but the acquiring of information, this is clearly the true method. However, if the saving of a few shillings is more to be thought of than the best method of instruction, the subject hardly deserves our serious consideration. § 20. It is much to be regretted that books for the young are so seldom written by distinguished authors. I suppose that of the three things which the author seeks, money, reputation, influence, the first is not often despised, nor the last considered the least valuable. And yet both money and influence are more certainly gained by a good book for the young than by any other. The influence of “Tom Brown,” however different in kind, is probably not smaller in amount than that of “Sartor Resartus.” § 21. What we want is a Macaulay for boys, who shall handle historical subjects with that wonderful art displayed in the “Essays,”—the art of elaborating all the more telling portions of the subject, outlining the rest, and suppressing everything that does not conduce to heighten the general effect. Some of these essays, such as the “Hastings” and “Clive,” will be read with avidity by the elder boys; but Macaulay did not write for children, and he abounds in words to them unintelligible. Had he been a married man, we might perhaps have had such a volume of historical sketches for boys as now we must wish for in vain. But there are good story-tellers left among us, and we might § 22. If, in these latter days, “the individual withers, and the world is more and more,” we must not expect our children to enter into this. Their sympathy and their imagination can be aroused, not for nations, but for individuals; and this is the reason why some biographies of great men should precede any history. These should be written after Macaulay’s method. There should be no attempt at completeness, but what is most important and interesting about the man should be narrated in detail, and the rest lightly sketched, or omitted altogether. Painters understand this principle, and, in taking a portrait, very often depict a man’s features minutely without telling all the truth about the buttons on his waistcoat. But, because in a literary picture each touch takes up additional space, writers seem to fear that the picture will be distorted unless every particular is expanded or condensed in the same ratio. § 23. At the risk of wearisome repetition, I must again say that I care as little about driving “useful knowledge” into a boy as the most ultra Cambridge man could wish; but I want to get the boy to have wide sympathies, and to teach himself; and I should therefore select the great men from very different periods and countries, that his net of interest (so to speak) may be spread in all waters. § 24. When we have thus got our boys to form the acquaintance of great men, they will have certain associations connected with many towns and countries. Constant reference should be made to the map, and the boys’ knowledge and interest will thus make settlements in different Of course, school geographies never mention such people as celebrated travellers; if they did, it would be impossible to give all the principal geographical names in the world within the compass of 200 pages. § 25. What might we fairly expect from such a course of teaching as I have here suggested? At the end of a year and a half, or two years, from the age, say, of nine, the boy would read to himself intelligently; he would write fairly; he would spell all common English words correctly; he would be thoroughly familiar with the relations of all common numbers, that is, of all numbers below 100; he would have had his interest aroused, or, to speak more accurately, not stifled but increased in common |