t plea.^f: do not remove this book card ^^jMLIBRARYQ^ so '^^l, by .1. P>. Lippincott & Co. PEEFAOE. In offering to those who form the tone and color of our homes this plea for home instruction, the writer has felt not only that the subject has at no time received the attention it demanded, but that we are coming to neglect it more and more. Our children deserve some- thing better than this at our hands. But this is an age of rnachinerv, and we are so absorbed in the wonders of the new era that we seem inclined to relegate all our duties to be wrought out by some curious piece of me- chanical ingenuity. Our schools are so abundant, and so thoroughly systematized, that parents, looking upon them with pride, are apt to think the child happily born to so goodly an inheritance, and that once placed in their care his education is a fact accomplished. But the specially important phase of instruction — that which forms a symmetrical character — is ostensibly ig- nored in many of our schools, and the most abiding portion of the child's mental seed-sowing has already taken root and given its tints to the soil before the period for entering the school-room arrives. If there is any one thing that seems especially given into the hands of the parents, it is the oversight of this first lush 4 PREFACE. - iiiorrt)w it may he very difficult to loosen it fr!ced for. How could he know?" They have not observed, perhaps, that his " knowings" have been accumulating this many a day. He has gathered up item after item of knowledge. The nooks and crannies of his brain are filled witii them ; but they have not yet received the stamp of cur- rent coin. They are not ready to pass into circulation in the mart of human speech, and when these first coinings of his brain slip indirectly in upon the gen- eral mental exchange, we are as much surprised as if we did not know that this was his great year for gath- ering treasure into his mental storehouse. As a man must furnish his house before he begins housekeeping, so must this child furnish his brain before he can, even in the simplest ideas, sit at the mental feast with those about him. At first we see him reaching after the j)ictures on the wall, or the gas-light, and, failing to obtain these, he plays with his chubby hands, dancing for a moment with delight, and then rubbing them over in doubt. He does not know whether the gas- 12 HOME AM) SCIIOOl, TUAIMSa. light, or whatever other moon h(; is calling lor, is a portion of his hands or not. Wlicn lie thinks it is, he dances; he has what he desires; but when he changes his mind, he cries out. He is striking a dividing-line between that which is a part of himself and that which belongs to other bodies. He is studying the " me" and the " not me," and he returns to the study day after day. But he knows at last ; and in studying this ques- tion he has learned distance and form ; and in acquiring this knowledge he has needed no- teacher except his own inherent perceptions. He has studied the best of books in studying the things about him, and liis knowledge is indisputable. And how has he gained this kiiowl- edge? By distinct propositions and conclusions, by a logical process of reasoning. There is no other process by wliich the human mind can attain knowl- edge. Without the power of words he has stored these facts in his mind, and you can never afterwards deceive him with regard to them. Section III.— Formation of Habits, Mental and Physical. INIany acts of what seem wanton destruction are car- ried out in his investigations, but he is only endeavoring to answer his own questions. On seeing this destruc- tion, the untrained mother screams at him, and the child screams in response, and in this direction his powers are quite beyond her own. But if, with that \vomanly power of divination which seems to have been given her especially for this work, she perceives what is in his mind, and talks with him calmly about it, the chances are that he will yield up his destructive propensities, in the belief that there is some better way FORMATION OF HABITS, ETC. 13 of getting his questions answered. He may understand very little of what she says, in which case he takes faith for understanding. The little he does understand satisfies him, so valuable is knowledge to his mind. But the child does understand what is said to him much earlier than the unobserving are accustomed to suppose. He is an intelligent being, and the mother's appeal to his understanding is in the line of his desires and requirements. Any one who has observed the difference in progress between a child who has some friend that thinks it worth while to talk to him and one who has not, will recognize the value of this method of appeal. By and by this child's mental garden, into which, unknowingly, he has dropped day by day the seeds wrenched from the dry husks of common facts, blossoms suddenly into speech. He has acquired a symbol for the things he knew already. The thing itself had become familiar to him before he knew the value of the symbol, and before he knew even the thing itself his mind had already gone through impor- tant processes of reasoning. He had noted one item after another, and reached valuable conclusions. Be- fore he uttered, or even understood, the word "chair" or ** table," he had noted the similarity between chair and chair, and the difference between chair and table. Before the word " papa" had passed his lips, the dif- ference in form and features between his father and other men had become familiar to him. A child in his second year, who had seen one uncle, was presented to another, a brother of his father, and resembling iiim very closely. " Uiicle-papa !" he exclaimed at once, designating the resemblance in the clearest possible 1 1 HOME AM) SCIIOOI, THMMSd. way. " A c'liiel's ainang yc takin' notes." Yes, always, whenever there is a chiKl among you he is taking notes. And the time is not far distant when he will " print 'em." Sometimes, when this printing takes place, there is some one who objects to them, some one who thinks the notes ill taken. Rut, if so, it is prob- ably not the child that is to blame. Jf he has found two' faces belonging to the same person, he will be very likely to present the wrong one when occasi(jn comes. It may be the one which has impressed him most. And so the enfant terrible comes into the field of vision. This child has not learned deception. He is by nature truthful. When he enters the world, he enters at once upon his search for knowledge, and knowledge is truth. This love of trutii is his endow- ment, without which he would have nothing to seek in the world. Some children may be born without this endowment, but, if so, the lack of it is as much an evil endowment as if they had been born with delirium tremens. And in his most degenerate form, however much of falsehood he may oflPer to others, he seeks diliffentlv for the truth himself. In the low-grained stupidity he has itdierited he has been deceived into looking upon falsehood as a means of self-defence. Many a mother, how^ever unwittingly, heaps lesson upon lesson that will impress upon the minds of her children this view of falseliood. Section IV.— Formation of Habits. Mental and Physical I continued . We say now that he is learning language, or it would be more accurate to say that he is learning speech: Ian- FORMATION OF HABITS, ETC. 15 giiage lie has been learning almost from the first; at least from the time when his eye first followed from the lips of the speaker to the object which had been named. First he learned the thing itself, then the meaning of the word which is a symbol of the thing, and now he learns to utter the word. He understands it long before. He cries for his cup of milk, but he ceases his cry as soon as he knows it is understood, and looks expectantly at the door at which it will be brought in. But if it has been supposed that he was hungry instead of thirsty, and bread is brought instead of milk, his cry commences again. It is as yet his only vehicle of communication, and it is very hard for the child who uses this mode of communication among dull or indolent people. His outcry must be so long continued before he obtains an answer to his pressing wants that a habit of irritability is formed, and a complete mis- understanding ensues between the child and his nurse, which is destructive of peace. If he is surrounded by people who are so indifferent to his wants that they attend to them only to rid themselves of the annoy- ance of I lis cries, the child soon understands that this is • the case. He sees in it a means of mastery, and brings it forward on all occasions, crying for his caprices as well us for his wants, and receives the same indiscrim- inating attention in the one case as in the other. He is thus encouraged in his ideas of mastery, and becomes a tyrant in the house; while a prompt and decided manner of attending to iiis real wants, and ignoring his unreal ones, would have saved his temper and the quiet of the household. If the mother wishes to know what comfort is worth to her child, let her remember 16 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. wliat it is vvortli to licrscif"; wlietlicr peace of" iiiiiid is e^isy to he niaiutuined in the midst of hunger or plethora, with ill-arranged (-lothing, nnconifortaljle lig- atures, or a j>ehl)le in the shoe. There should not only he a provision, l)Ut a prevision, for his eohif'ort. She should see beforehand that these discomforts do not occur, recognizing that it is her first duty to prevent them. If she sees him in the hands of some young nurse, with his clothes twisted about him or erowde{ lc(|i(»Ms n-pctition does not wciiry liiiii ; lie cliiiihs np aj^aiii ami a^aiii and asks for (lu! same nursery rliynie. It is no sooner finisliecl than lie wishes it to commence again. The diflerent images it presents seem to reveal themselves to his mind little by little, brightening every day. The questions he asks about it are not the same to-day that they will be to-morrow. The rhythm attracts him, for it seems to accord with some other rhythm in his own nature; and the more perfect it is, the more thoroughly does it convey any lesson it may contain. The child should be liberally equipped with a knowl- edge of his own language before he enters the school- room, whether it be a kindergarten or primary school : it is the implement with which he works. There is altogether too much studving in our schools of words M'hich fail to convey any adequate meaning. Every teacher will recognize by the language used the differ- ence between the little child reared in a family where the conversation he hears takes a wide and intelligent range, and the one who grows up where there is little that (an be called conversation, — where the talk he hears is limited to the meaner and narrower things with which life has to do, and thus requires only the most limited vocabulary. And this line of demarcation does not confine itself wholly to the line which divides the rich and the poor, for frivolity and narrowness find a foot-hold everywhere. Section VI.— Nursery-Tales. We know that the nursery-tales of our race come down to us from the remotest antiquity, and that they NURSERY-TALES 21 are sung to-day as mufh to tlic cliildrcii <>l" the savage tribes of far-off deserts as to the noblest heir of En^- b'sh blood that has ever been dandled on his nurse's knee. And the question arises wliether there can be such a thing as progress in nursery-tales, — whether they have any need to advance with our advancing civili- zation. It is barely possible, in view of the place tliey must hold in the teaching of language and other things, that they are worthy of some attention from us. That the range of these tales mig-ht be varied and widened indefinitely is certain. There are a multitude of frag- ments that could be taken from our poets and prose- writers, increasing the child's vocabulary in a most valu- able way, and filling the miml with images which are well worth retaining. An early familiarity with and love of nature consti- tute an important safeguard. I have seen a child of three years sitting on the knee and listening intently to the first cantos of " The Lady of the Lake," with their close descriptions of nature, each difficult word being explained to her as the story went on, and the whole making an impression on her mind which caused it to be called for again and again. After one or two repe- titions, it would be accomj)anied by undertoned com- ments, as, "'Career' means 'a running;' 'beamed front- lets,' antlers.'" (She wjts familiar with the deer in the park.) " You left out 'With whimpering cry The hounds beliind their passage ply.' " The stag was her hero, and she had endless questions 22 HOMK AM) SCHOOL TRAINING. ((» ;isk jilxMit iiiiii, licr adiiiiratioii lor li is courage reach- ing its lieiglit wlien told tliut " Thrico lliat day, from shore to shore, The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er." And wlicnever she found that she was about to give way to the habit of crying for tiifling hurts she would check herself and say, "I can be brave." Section VII.— Love of Nature. The period we have already described, in which the child was learning to understand things, and before lie could nndcr.stand or utter the names of those things, has seen him fairly started in tlie line of investigation of the objects about him, in the natural order of study, from facts to conclusions, from experience to reason, from concrete to abstract. It has laid in him the founda- tion of a love of nature which needs only to be wisely directed in order to afford an antidote against vicious tastes, and an unfailing source of enjoyment. That the love of nature would, in any ca.se, differ with different children is beyond question; but that a wholesome love of it can be implanted in every child's mind, at least in every one where a vicious inheritance has not already taken, a priori, possession of the soil, is also beyond question. The child that creeps up delighted to the glimmer of sunshine on the carpet, or pours out all his phrases of expression in admiration of the first beauti- ful flower he sees, is merely holding out his hands to us in an appeal to be led in this direction ; and lunv easv is the leadintr! The dancinir of the leaves in the LOVE OF NATURE. 23 sun, the branches tossing to the wind, the sliiinnur on the waving grass, the varied hues of the sunset, the towers against the gray skv, and a tliousand tilings beside, furnish to him wide fields of ocenpation and dehght. If we who are mothers thus sow the domain of the cliild's mind with sturdy grain while he is still in our hands, it w^ill be of comparatively little use for the enemy to sow tares in the well-occupied soil when the world takes him out of our hands, as it is sure to do, for his school-days and other busy days, almost before w^e know that he is ours. And let no one suppose that the strongest hewer in the world's stony ways will be weakened by being led in his infancy in this direction. To answer this somewhat singular objection w^e have only to look into the lives, not of our statesmen and literary men merely, but of our most successful business men, to see how strong their love of nature is. It is always a characteristic of depth of character. If the child has formed the habit of irritability, or even of caprice, it stands greatly in the way of this, as well as all other sources of pure enjoyment. If the fretfuluess is consequent upon ill health, we must bear with it as patiently as we can until the weak nerves grow strong. But with a child in health, irritability is either a habit or an inheritance. The habit can be forestalled, as has been indicated, and even the clinging root of an evil inheritance may, by persistent effort, be rooted out, though it may need the strong help of the individual iiimself for its complete eradication. No task can bring a greater reward to the mother than to iiave set this work wisely on foot, thus lessening the i)nrdon her child has to bear. 24 HOME A AD SCHOOL TRAINING. Section VIII.— Traits, Natural and Acquired. Traits oi' cliuracter are natural and acciuircil, and, where there is any progress in the life of" the indi- vidual, the acquired traits must, of necessity, be an iiii|)n)venient upon the natural ones. But traits ac- quired at haphazard are not likely to i)e an improve- ment. It is oidy by patient effort on the ])art of mother and teacher, and afterwards of the individual himself, that progress can be expected. For, in the main, this progress consists in the rooting out, or the careful pruning, of undesirable natural traits : a proper stimulus has been given to such as were weak, a proper curbing to such as were in excess. In carrying out this work of j)rogress we are apt to look upon our own natural traits as a part of ourselves, and to cover them over with the mantle of our self-love, however unde- sirable they may be, however decidedly we should dis- approve of them if they belonged to another. We be- come their apologist, and determine to make a virtue of that which, under any other circumstances, we should regard as a vice. This is very much as if we should attempt to hide some physical disease, and in- sist that the spreading deformit)j was the bloom of health, thus denying or ignoring the necessity of reme- dial measures. So much more highly do we appear to prize the continuance of life than we do beauty of character. If we could look back through the long line of our ancestry and see where these unlovely traits came in as a portion of our inheritance, we might hold them in less loving regard. Only a few centuries since, our ancestors were a race of savages, neither more THE CHILD'S LOVE OF KNOWING. 25 nor less bfautit'iil in character tJuiii savages of the same grade at the present day. Civilization is made up of acquired traits, acquired in the interest of progress, and, as we prefer civilization to the state of tlie savage, we should be willing to contribute our own personal share to this work of progress in ourselves and in our children. We say we love our children better than we love ourselves, but it is doubtful if we love our children's faults better than we love our own. If we did, weshoidd make better children of them, for example is the first as well as the last word in moral teaching. If we would apply to ourselves the same rules of rigid criticism that we are accustomed to apply to others, we should be saints indeed. If we could sit down over against ourselves and examine our traits of character aud our habits as if they belonged to another, we should find ourselves possessed of a new weapon with which to fight the battle of personal civilization. CHAPTER II. THE MOTHER'S FIELD MADE READY TO HER HAND. Section I.— The Child's Love of Knowing. The mother is the first and most fully equipped teacher of her child, for she possesses unquestioned authority, immeasurable love, and a deep personal in- terest in the welfare aud progress of the pupil. As we have seen, the first months of his life have been B 3 2() HOME ASI> SCIIOOI, TliAIMS'!. spciil in Mil iiiiaiilcd >tn»ly nf the olycct.s alxfiil liiiii ; l)ut the moinciil lie comes to iiiKlerstaiid Iniinaii spcicli Ills field ol' observation stretelies out beyond tlie narrow walls of liis nursery, and widens by degrees, until at last it embraces tli(; whole world. At first his eye was mainly his teacher, but, from the moment he begins to understand words, he is ca})able of gaining knowledge from sources quite beyond his range of vision or the cognizance of his other senses. Every one who speaks to him, or speaks in his pres- ence, is adding to ids possessions, for from this time to his school-days he is more than anything else a student of language. His mother says, "The milk is coming; Nettie will bring you the milk;" and he ceases his call, and fixes his eye on the door by which it will come. He is receiving information on trust from others. He has stepped into his inheritance as heir of the world's knowledge. That this is the period when the child is especially a student of language is shown by the fact that those forms of words which are now im])lanted in his mind will cling to it with fierce tenacity through all his life. These first forms that he learns are tap-rooted plants, that strike down deep below the surface. We may lop them off at the top, and give them sharp cuts of the spade far under ground, but they will come np again at unexpected points. Why should we allow a field to be planted first with thistles when we believe that we are making it ready to wave one day with a harvest of golden grain? Certainly wo do this when we leave the child wholly to the care of uneducated and undis- ciplined servants during his first years. When we do WHEN INSTRUCTION BEGINS. 27 this we forget that the child is from the lirst a zealous student. Any hatred of study he may ever possess comes in later than this, and when it comes there is a reason why. His own active perceptions and desire to know are the outfit which nature has given him for his task. He is like the Athenians, always eager to hear jr know some new thing. His mind is like a ploughed field, ready for the sower. If we do not see to it our- selves that the field is planted, another will ; and while we who love the child would doubtless look to it that it is sowed with good seed, the chance sower will do nothing of the kind. Mental neglect means starvation, and starvation engenders disease. Section II.— When Instruction Begins. We will suppose, then, that the mother is installed as teacher in her own nursery, and that she recog- nizes that all the means she uses for the amusement or the increased understanding of the child can be classed under the head of instruction. We may go further than this, and say that all the habits — of feed- ing, of cleanliness, of content or ill temper — which the mother is forming for her child can be classed uudcr the same head. We are a[)t to put the period at which what we call instruction commences at quite too late a date. As we have said, he begins the study of lan- guage when he first listens to his nursery-tales, — takes in, fragment by fragment, the images they present, until he grasps them all, goes over tlunn again and again, Jis the miser counts his gold, or as the adult student goes over his cardinal points, delights in the repetiti(Mi, ("or rej)etition is of value to the lilllc child or to the ad- 28 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. vaiK'cd student as long as there is in (lie siihjcci any- iliiii^ left to be uiulerstood. At this period the chiUl's mind gathers feebly and renK'nii)ers only in j)art. We cannot say tiiat beoanse a little child has uttered a word for the first time to-day he will be able to utter the same word to-morrow. It presented itself to him in the- right way to-day, but it is not certain that it will present itself in the same way to-morrow. We all know liow a child will smile quietly and refuse to attempt the utterance of a word which he understands perfectly but has never uttered. He is not sure of himself, and he declines to be laughed at. And if you say " wa-wa," instead of water, because that is the way he pronounces it, he will probably show his decided disapproval of your mode of pronunciation. It is his power of utterance, not his apprehension, that is at fault. And with only these few months of life behind him, he can safely be left to correct himself in such points. He can spare time to correct his errors, and the practice is of value. Having decided, then, that even at this period in- struction has begun, the special task of the mother is now to curb, direct, and supj)lement the ordinary othces of the nursery, and to watch carefully the development of the understanding, for in no two children will it de- velop alike, and the little group of blossoms on her own centur^'-plant \\\\\ open but once in a lifetime. Siie can afford the needed time. Other things can be put aside, but this work hurries forward faster than she knows. Only a brief period, and the seed-time will be over, and through all the remainder of her life she must reap the harvest, whether sweet or bitter, of that which she has planted. THE MOTHER'S FITNESS FOR HER WORK. 29 How imicli more important, then, that slic should spend lier time in this work of instruction than in any decoration of" infant finery or of lionse walls and niches ! There is always some form of fashionable toy-worl< which seems to push itself forward in a demand upon all the leisure which a mother can find for the instruc- tion of her children ; and if she does not ignore this fashionable demand, the chances are that, a few years later, when this decorative work lies bleaching in the vats of a paj)er-mill or mouldering in some garret, she will be growing gaunt and haggard under the penalties she must suffer for her neglect. Not that she should not endeavor to make her home tasteful and pleasant ; but simplicity and good taste are far more attractive than a mass of confused and troublesome ornament. To the mother of young children time is the most valuable possession, and there is no such wasteful ex- penditure of time as that which is given to the frippery of butterfly fashions. Section III.— The Mother's Fitness for her Work. The thoughtful mother, in undertaK'ing this work, will carefully review her own fitness for it, and en- deavor to repair any deficiencies she may find. Her education at school and at home will i)c brought well into play, — her knowledge of chemistry, of physiology, of anatomy, as well as of botany or of modes of growth, of history, and of general literature. Her mind will recur continually to the home teaching she lias received, to the household lore she has been gathering at the chimney-side from her childluxHl u]). If she belongs to an unl)roken familv, one which has held (om'tiicr fur 30 HOME AM) SCHOOL TRAINING. some irciicrations uitlioiit \viy wliicli ilie aromatic incense of the liouselioM altar lias been scattered to the winds, slie has in her mind a store of old traditions, which iier new experience brings in place at every turn. These brief apothej^ms, in which the old world's wis- dom in common matters has been stored np and handed down to us, have usually a real practicid value. But they seem to have a fondness for (dinging to the old roof- trees, and to disappear in great measure when tlie old household gods are broken and the line of march is taken up for new camping-grounds. This is especially true of those race-traditions which are of more general application. Among a mixed or roving people, or under the i)ressure of national calamity, they largely disapjMjar, they lose the stamp of general approval. The wise proverb that the child hears at his own hearth-stone is not echoed at the firesides of his comrades, and thus loses its foothold in his mind, or its seal of general assent. As the population becomes assimilated and settled, they reappear, or rather a selection from the commonplace wisdom of the diiferent peoples makes its appearance and is stored up again for common use. It is a loss to any peoj)le when its race- trad it ions dis- appear, as is true in many portions of our own country. They form the text-books of the uneducated, the texts of all on those points which our education neglects. And our education is apt to be so very deficient in the teaciiing of that which relates to ho-me-life that the loss of those household traditions which descend from y-ener- ation to generation is not easily made good. They touch so many points, — the manners, the temper, the natural HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 31 disposition, the relation of" oliildrcn to parents and to one another; and, while thus arranging matters in the dwell- ing-room, they do not neglect the cellar, the cook-room, or the attic. And coming down, as they do, in sharp sayings from past ages, they possess an authority that new instruction with difficulty claims. But if the mother finds use for these old nuggets of wisdom, she has use also for the new instruction with which the world has been enriched. Section IV.— Health the First Consideration. The habits the child is forming of health, of cleanli- ness, of good temper, are part and parcel of her work. She needs to inform herself upon the health of houses, their location, drainage, ventilation, decay, the disposal of refuse, malaria, relation of climate to scrofula and other diseases. She will, of course, have been supi)lied from the first with some medical manual for the nursery as a guide in the general routine of personal oversight, as well as for reference in cases of emergency before a physician can be called. It is not safe to trust the memory in matters of this kind. The memory usually retains no very strong hold upon things wliich come only occasionally into the field of vision, and in times of emergency and distress it more frequently than otherwise refuses its usual aid. I believe the opinion of certain physicians, which has been fulminated of late, declares that a woman should not study j)hysiology or meddle with medical works, but that the care of the child should be left wholly to the family physician. This means, of course, that no precautions shall be takrii ill the mirsery against disease, but that when the 32 HOME AM) SCHOOTj TRAINING. c'liild falls ill, IVom the iiiotJicr's iViKtraiice or otlier causes, he shall he turned over to the I'aiuily physician, to be killed or ciwcd, according to tlie medical man's skill or the vindence of the attack. But the mother who is really striving to fit herself for her \vf)rk in the nursery does not leave her post so insecin-ely guarded. It may be said thit these matters of health and com- fort have nothing to do with instruction; but they form the substratum on which the work must rest, and re- quire the first attention. Thus this work of kindergartening in her own nursery has a much wider range than the mere teach- ing to a child the names of different parts of a shoe or flower. The worst preparation, probably, that a young mother can have for these duties is that obtained from miscellaneous novel-reading. On the other hand, a range of well-selected fiction, rightly read, will be a valuable assistant in her preparation. If they emanate from the best minds, they give those deep views of the movements of the human heart which are of value to us all. Well-handled works of the imagination cannot fail to broaden the sympathies, by leading us closely into the lives of those whose springs of action difter from our own, and enabling us to see how they live and love and suffer. Imagination is the basis of sympathy. The man without imagination is the man who never thinks of any other interest than his own ; for he has no power to put himself in another's place, — to think what life would be from any other stand-])oint than his own selfishness affords. What a pitiful thing it is to find a mother who does not understand hex o^v^l child ! lu all this preparation die teaching of her own HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 33 inotliCM- will doubtless have the foremost j>lace. Her mother's mode ot" eontrol, of household muiuigemeiit, of moral instruction, of personal care, will come con- slantly to her mind. Thus we see the work of a good mother descending from generation to generation, ft is mainly from the fund of observation stored up by such mothers that the household traditions of which we have just been speaking are formed. The mo-t valu- able of these spread beyond the special iiousehold and take root in the hearts of the people, forming thus a portion of our race-traditions, and contributing their moiety to the advancement of humanity. We may say that these traditions concern the most commonplace things; but civilization has its root in the most common- place things. But the young mother cannot stop at the limit of her mother's teaching. To each generation some new light is given, by eacii some new methods of living, of control, and of instruction are adopted. During the last generation the special progress has been in the knowledge of clean- liness. Clean air, clean wat^r, clean and unadulterated food are better understood, probably, than ever before. And the methods of avoiding contagion, too, are belter understood; but, as these all hinge upon cleanliiie-s, in one form or another, we can class them under the .■-ame head. Of all this knowledge, and of whatever other practical knowledge that will aid her, the mother should avail herself Does she say that a heavy task is thus laid upou her? It is not a light task, perhaps, but very great is her reward. What position in life can confer so much honor and haj)j)iness ;u^ to be the mother of noble men and women ? They are not so c 34 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. alxindaiil in the world liiit that tlicv still stand out in «tr()ii<; rt'lii'f. Whatever di.scouragcmcnt.s may coine in lier way, the mother should reiuember that cheerfnhiess and patience are among her most important elements of success. A calm and quiet reproof, in a few words, will weigh more than all the scolding, all the excited questionings or remonstrances, that ever were made. But it must be accompanied by decision. The child must understand that what is said is meant, that the whole force of the mother's character stands back of it. A reproof can neither be rashly made nor rashly withdrawn ; and to any child old enough to understand it, the mother should in some way apologize or repair the evil if she has corrected him for an error he did not commit. She may think that her dignity will be lowered, her author- ity weakened, that it is a trivial matter and will pass out of the child's mind ; but the courageous act of set- ting the matter right will only add to her dignity and authority ; and such matters do not pass out of the child's mind. If the act itself is forgotten, the stinging sense of injustice remains, and, with such friction, thread by thread the bond of love and confidence between mother and child is frittered away. Section V.— Health the First Consideration (continued). The constantly-sought desideratum of a sound mind in a sound body is the problem she is working out. And the sound body comes first, for it is the founda- tion. The knowledge required for working out this proi)lem has already been indicated. The simple food, nicely prepared and taken at regular intervals, the clean HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 35 and well-aired beds, the well-rubbed skin, the well- brushed hair, — tossed about, it may be, but with each day's cleansing thoroughly carried out, — the clothing free from dampness or any kind of uncleanliness, the carefully- ventilated rooms, not too warm and not too cold, — these and other things are factors in the i)rol)- lem. She need not blush at the soil the child's clothing has just acquired in his vigorous play: it is that which strikes deeper which is to be avoided. And she siiould see that the clothing is such as will admit of vigorous play without putting her in terror lest it should be destroyed. It is a cruelty to tie up the activities of the child in the spider's web of fine clothing. He is no more happy than the fly in the web, and in no less danger, for his health is weakened, and the spider- germs of disease have their pick at him. (in regard to the nature of the food, too, she should see that the judgment she adopts is well takeni that it is such as nature and experience ])oint out as fitted to sup- ply strength, energy, and growth. The thought of pleasing the sense of taste is not all, nor even the first ])oint to be considered. All, or nearly all, wholesome food, well prepared, will please the taste of a healthy child. The first thing to be considered is whether it gives the proper sustenance. Much of the nourish- ment may be subtracted from food without making it unpleiLsant to the taste,Vat least until a continuance of such food causes an outcry from the system for better nourishment. . But in any case the food should be made palatable, and care taken not to pervert the taste for wholesome food. In all this she cannot follow stereo- typed rules, but must be herself a keen observer, for 3(j HOME AM) SCHOOL THAI SI NO. no two (;liil(]rt'ii aro alike. A delicate child is liable to take less food at a time, and to re(jiiire it more fre- quently, than one in roi)nst health who eats heartily. It is sometimes said that the <-hild's natural appetite will determine these points. To some extent this is true; but where there lies back of the child a line of ancestors noted for gluttony or intemperance, the simple food which this period of life requires may not be that which his natiu'al or unnatural appetite demands. The mother should be quick to observe any signs of indi- gestion, and shoidd inform herself in regard to the various ways in which they show themselves. She should also know the simplest home remedies. Proper warmth given to a system which, from some catise, has been toned too low may sometimes be sufficient; and where, with jM'oper care, this can be given externally, it is followed by no undesirable results. Some one has broached the idea recently of putting infants in an incubator, or in something securing the same condi- tions, in order to give them evenness of temperature, (whatever the means of securing it, the importance of an even temperature is unquestioned \ it is the special point made in looking out health-climates for invalids. Adults can secure evenness of temperature in our dwelling-rooms when infants cannot. By watching the first slight signs of disorder a child may often be kept in health when, by the opposite course of neglect, he might be in constant need of a physician. These are points in which "a stitch in time Siwes nine" more frequently, perhaps, than anywhere else. Forethought is the secret of all household management. 1 In houses heated with stoves the floors are usually HEALTH THE FIRST CONSIDERATION. 37 cold, and the cliildren who play there are often exposed to draughts from beneath doors opening into cold rooms. The slight colds thus taken often show themselves in indigestion, and by a continual harrying of this kind an otherwise strong constitution can be seriously weakened. Indigestion, in whatever form, means lack of nutrition to body and brain, ior only through digestion can the fresh blood be supplied that nourishes them. There are other dangers to a child- from draughts in comfoi't- ably-heated rooms. The warm air rises to the ceiling, is there cooled by contact with the cxiiling, and flows outward to the walls, where it is still further cooled, grows heavy, and descends along the wall to the floor. This downward current of cold air is much colder when it strikes the outer wall of the house, or the windows, as the glass offers comparatively little resist- ance to the coolness of the outer air. The sturdy young nurse, who very probably has spent much of her life in the open air, and has thus gained strength to resist any ordinary exposure, sits down with the child beside the window, in exactly the coolest portion of this cool downward current, and amuses him as well as herself with the sight of out- door objects. The child would be safer in his carriage out of doors than exposed to this draught. If the win- dow were loose, so as to admit a direct current of air, the mother would notice it and remove the child; but of this othfi- draught she is perhaps not aware. If she sits down in it herself, she notices it, thinks she is chilly this morning, and moves away ; but she is very apt not to investigate far cnoniili to see that (his is almost the worst place in the room for the child, and that his out- 4 ;}8 HOME AM) scihhHj tuaimxo. door seeing I'roiii the wiiidow may as well be confined to moderate weather. If the house is heated with a furnace, (lie floors are prol)al)Iy warm, and this danger from wall-currents is probably lessened by the presence of j)ipes in the walls. Tlie evils to be avoided are of another kind, — over- heating, uneven heating (in cases where a change of wind warms one portion of the house and cools the rest), leaking of gas, and too great dryness of the air. These are evils that can be remedied, but it is a very common thing to find that they are not remedied. Section VI.— Fatal Errors of Discipline. When the moflier, by a wise care of her own health and the child's health, by a steady control of the child's temper and her own temper, has reduced to a minimum the friction in her way, she is ready for systematic work in her human flower-gardening. She has to improve the soil, to plant well-chosen seed and guard its growth, to bring to her aid all the appliances which will lead up to tiie fair flower and the abundant fruit. The biographer of an eminent man, among whose defects were obstinacy and hardness of character, says, " A mother might have had a more softening influence had hers been of the two the specially formative mind." The strong power of stamping its own impress on the character which one or the other parent may possess is something we cannot choose. Probably the facts so often brought fm'ward regarding the mothers of great men result mainly from a happy combination of the right power in the right place, — a combination which will occur much more frequently when it becomes a FATAL ERRORS OF DISCIPLINE. 39 coiiHuon tiling fur mothers to fit themselves lu earnest to be the mental guides of their young children. For these first years the mother's should be the specially for- mative mind. The form she is or should be especially fitted to give is the one which the child at this time requires. The creative wisdom has not erred. The writer just quoted says, too, "The whole character may be moulded at school ; it is formed at eighteen, various as may be afterwards the modes of its manifestation." It is important that the character should not be wholly formed at school. Think how varied and how entirely beyond the control of parents are the influences at school, especially if the school is at a distance from them. The foundations of the child's character should be laid before he enters school, in order that he may be able to select for himself among the varied influences he is to meet there. This selection, whether he knows it or not, will be in accord with the bias his mind has already received. And, taking this view of the early formation of char- acter, it is impossible to overrate the importance of the mother's work in the nursery. She lays the foundation- stones, without which we so often find that the super- structure is based in sand. The mother of a boy of seven years once said, " 1 cannot manage him ; it is not my business. A man must contrt)l boys; he is too old for my hands." Worthless hand and worthless brain ! If she had done lier work with the slightest sense of duty in the first place, he would never have been too old for her hand. A mother must make herself respected, and for this purpose must make herself worthy of respect. When women come to be strongly educated, or to educate 40 JIOMK AND SCHOOL TRAINING. tliemsclvi-.s ill tliosc liiglior branches wliidi cultivate the jiulgniciit aiiil sharpen tlie reiusoiiiiig powers, they will he more certain to secure that respect from their chil- dren which is all-important to their position. Such a flagrant lack of appreciation of a mother's duty to her child as that in the case just mentioned is largely the result of false views that are prevalent in society. It is easy to carry to an extreme these absurd ideas of a mother's natural and necessary incapacity ; and the indolent mother accepts these ideas and excuses herself by them for her wretched failures. But the woman who develops studiously from the beginning the understanding of her child is of another class, and she knows very little of the burden laid upon the mother who believes herself incapable of governing her own sou. The capricious and ill-balanced mother develops the capricious and ill-balanced child, and the conflict between the two is most pitiful. I once knew a couple, the parents of a child four or five years old, who had arranged for a short journey ; but the child wished to accompany them. She was therefore dressed ready for the trip, and stood on the front steps, in her hat and wraps, rejoicing while the carriage waited at the door. The parents came out and went with the child back into the dining-room, wdiere she was detained by some stratagem, while the parents hastened through the hall and entered the carriage, which was driven rapidly away, leaving the child screaming in the hands of her nurse. Terrible is the penalty when this ''sowing of the wind" yields its returns. NEED OF THOROUGH EDUCATION. 41 Section VII.— The Mother's Need of Thorough Education. If great men, as is so often asserted, are descended from strong mothers, there is a reason for it in these first years of life. Rousseau says, "I wish some judi- cious hand would give us a treatise on the art of studying children, an art of the greatest inn)()rtance to understand, though fathers and preceptors know not as yet even the elements of it." But mothers, whose life is in their own nurseries, and whose sympathies are their guides, can and do understand the art of studying children ; and only when the education given to women is such as to enable them to make a practical use of this understanding, to conduct this early education by natural and logical means, shall we see it rightly ])lanned and carried out. When the ready intuitions given to women to aid them especially in this work are so far modified by an education which disciplines the judgment as to bring these intuitions forward into the domain of reason, we shall find in the nur- sery — that place from which the roots of civilization draw their nourishment — the work we require, and not before. The fact that clearness of judgment is depend- ent upon the discipline which a thorough education gives cannot be questioned. The cases of persons who were educated before they were born, wlio inherit a fine culture, are too rare to affect the question. This discipline must be obtained either among the knotty questions of the school-room, or among the similarly knotty questions in the marts of business. It is not to be obtained in the stoker's cabin, or at a l)utterfly'8 ball. The man who has the control of an important 4* 42 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. business, whatever his knowledge of hooks m;iy he, gains the necessary discipHne through his business, and his judgment may thus become clear and stronr. I'ut the judgment is like the muscles, a very flabby thing when it has no exercise; and the persons who always move under the direction of others, who liave no edu- cation beyond a few accomplisiunents, and have never had any important questions of their own to settle, are known, as a class, to be defii-ient in this rpiality. If any one doubts this, he has only to make a tour among this class of people, and push them on points where clearness of judgment is required. Now, women, to whom this important work of laying the foundation of character has been confided by our Creator, may be fairly enough divided into laboring-women and ladies. Until very recently, the work of a laboring- woman was for the most part in the kitchen, where her chief busi- ness was to tend the fires, — fires of two grades, the coal-fires in the cook-stove and the food-fires in the human system, — so that her business, as far as the dis- cipline of business is concerned, would place her on a level with any other stoker. As for ladies, it has been contended by many who consider themselves fit to rule the wisdom of the world that the life suited to them is the life of a butterfly's ball. So that, according to the division made by those who object to the higher education of women, the puzzle remains where they are to obtain this discipline which is so absolutely necessary to them for carrying out their divinely-ap- pointed work, if they are not to receive a thorough education in the schools. The fact that women have at no time in the civilized world i-onfiiied themselves NEED OF THOROUGH EDUCATION. 43 to either of these conditions makes nothing against the leo;itin)atc outcome of the arjiuinent of those who would place them tiiere. In spite of the efforts of tiiese conservators of feminine incapacity, women have in one way or another found their way to somewhat of the knowledge they require. Other and better writers than Rousseau on education have looked on the mother as a mere marplot in the training of her chikl. It may seem Late in the day for entering into an argument of this kind, but the debates and decisions which meet us on this side and on that siiow that we are still in the thick of the battle as regards the higher education of women. It is true that within tiic last fifty years a great change has taken ])lace in the opportunities offered to women for obtaining the discipline necessary to the formation of clear judgments. And it is true that nine out of ten of those women who could be pointed out to-day as doing well-directed educational work through the nursery, the school-room, or the press are those who have in one way or another re- ceived what is called a higher education. The oppor- tunities given through other sources can be counted almost at zero. If any one says in answer to this that learned or literary women make the worst of mothers, our reply is that it is possible to be learned or literary without being educated. If a person cultivates learn- ing or literature for purposes of ambition, simply to make a show in the world, it is very possible for that person to make the worst of fatiiers or the worst of mothers, as the case may be. But this flaunting of tinsel, or even of something better than tinsel, is a very different tiling from that complete development 44 HOME AND SCIIOOI. TRAJNINQ. of llic wlidli' l)ciiii^ w'liirli plarGs one oil tlif^ highest round of the hidder of civilization and enal)le.s him to aid others in reaching the same desirable point, — in other words, which places him where he can see at its best the nniverse in which God has placed him, and is able to recognize the fact that the highest good to which any created being can attain is the power to perform at its best the work assigned him in the world. Not gauds for show, but tools for work, are the things he obtains from his education. The place where a woman shall use the discipline she has obtained is not always in the nursery, but there is surely no place whore it is needed more; and, if the nursery is her own, she should think well before she puts another in her place there and gives her strength to other duties. Section VIII. — Hinderances in her Way. Tt is not always the mother who gives the first bias of character ; but the exceptions are rare. The father is occui)ied elsewhere, and the work of these formative years is foreign to his hand. Wherever a mother is too mucli devoted to society, or otherwise incapacitated for this care of her child, it is her unquestioned duty to employ some educated and thoroughly right-minded person to take her place. Whenever children are left to the care of servants, — of the class least educated and least competent to educate, — it happens that just so far the race is toned down, and fails to reach the average of intelligence and excellence it has a right to claim. It would be difficult to calculat€ the evils which arise from tiie too common indifference to these first years of child- life. But we are met here by the assertion that HINDERANCES IN II RR WAY. 45 the niotlier's position is one of too iniicli dignity and responsibility to have her time frittered away by these petty cares. A little observation, however, will show that the mother who holds in the highest estimation her dignity and responsibility as the head of her household is pre- cisely the one who performs most fully her duties to her children. The point in her character is that she recognizes completely the responsibilities of life. She is avaricious of time, and puts it out at interest, and thus always has enough for her needs. If such a mother really finds the duties of her position so onerous that she is obliged to delegate a portion of the charge of her children to others, they will not be left to the care of ordinary servants, but a competent j)erson \s\\\ be selected to share with her this highest of all respon- sibilities. No idle or thoughtless woman ever makes herself respected in positions of the highest honor and responsibility, and no thoughtful woman neglects her children. The opposite extreme to the position just mentioned is found where the mother is her own ser- vant, and in addition to the care of her children per- forms all her own household duties. Numbers of edu- cated women in the country hold this position, and among them are some who have rarely been excelled in the performance of their duties as mothers. But to perform faithfully the difficult duties of such a position requires physical as well as mental strength. There must be times in such cases where the child is neglected, or at least left overmuch to himself; but a wise man- agement forestalls any pei'manent evil from this course, and the child soon learns to be helpful, so that a tie- 46 IKiMi: AND SCHOOL THAI M NO. Ii<::lit('(il workinj:; coiiijciiii'Hisliii) Ix-tsvctii iiiutlior aiiut tiic French have given us some of the best work that has been done in the world ; there is no lack of brain-|)ower among them, erf 6 ♦ 50 HOME AM) SCHOOL mAiMsa. CHAPTER III. FIUST SIMPLE LESSONS. Section I.— A Day of Work. Let us take tlie case of a young mother wlio keeps but one servant, and who recognizes the necessity, as well as the delight, of the almost constant companion- ship of her child. These conditions will give the average of difficulties in her way, as well as the average power of overcoming them. She requires the services of the servant occasionally in the nursery, and, of course, ex- pects to perform a portion of the household duties her- self. As yet the family is small, and with system the duties of the household are not over-burdensome. The babe has probably had his bath before breakfast, and is, as far as possible, in ordef for the day. After break- fast, while the maid puts the dining-room in order, the finishing touches of what the mother has to do in parlors and nursery will be completed, and she is ready for such work as the kitchen requires at her hands. Probably she prepares the dessert, and possibly she is so fond of ijood bread tliat she makes it herself. At all events, she examines the household supplies every morn- ing before giving her orders for the day. We will sup- pose her cooking-})autry to be amply arranged for the purpose, and that, while she works at one moulding- shelf or table, the child can be tied in his high chair close beside her at another. He will thus have the A DAI OF WORK. 51 amusement of watcliiuir her motions, uiul tlie benefit of her cheery talk, with vvhicli she persistently endeavors to teach him at the same time cheerfulness and good English. We will suj)pose also that the child has been already taught that he can never obtain an article he wants by crying for it, — that in screaming for that which has been refused him he merits punishment and not reward. The quiet "no" must be final. And the " no" must be quiet. If it is vociferous, as we are sorry to know it sometimes is, it probably throws the child into a fit of })assiou or of nervous excitement from which he may not easily recover. The mistress has thus the advantage of overseeing the work in the kitchen, as the dish-washing and other tidying uj) of the house goes on, and the servant is at tiie same time benefited by watching her own tidy methods of work. It is to be hoped that she is not now for the first time learning housekeeping. If she is, her lack of skill and her occasional mistakes will make it somewhat of a burden to oversee servant and child at the same time that she is performing duties by which she is still puzzled. But if she has planned wisely she will ah'eady have gained both experience and skill in her housekeeping duties before she undertakes the more ditlicult task of learning by experience wise methods of training her child. For various reasons, it is better that she should take iier child witii her while she does this work, rather than wait to do it while he takes his morning nap. If she waits, the lire linrns low and be- comes clogged, and fuel is wasted in keeping it at the right point. The orders for the day have to l)e made before she has overlooked her present- supplies, and she 52 iioMi-: AND scriooh TUMMSn. loses the opportunity oC seeing how tlie morning work i.s done iu the kitchen and giving the occasional hints that may be required. And while she has the physical freshness of the morning to sustain her, she get.-" this work out of the way. ]jesides, the child is interested in heing taken out of the room in which he is con- stantly kept, and the nursery refpiires thorough venti- lation at this time. Her cooking will pivjbahly need a little more time from the occasional attention she gives to the child, in which, if need he, the servant should be trained to assist; but there will be time gained in the end, for she has turned in her own work as a source of amusement to the child, and has saved herself the worry of waiting wearily for his hour of sleep to come. Then, if she completes them while the freshness of the morning remains with herself and the child, she can rest while he sleeps, as she requires to do. For if there is anything in which she should carefully preserve a fitness for her duties as a mother, it is in the matter of health. Her child's health, both of body and mind, at this period is dependent upon her own. li^ the whole of the family sewing is to be added to her duties as housekeeper, she will find it desirable to content herself with plain work ui)on substantial goods. Few things will tell more decidedly against her judgment than the ornamentation of frail and worthless goods. Showy garments combined with lack of cleanliness will give the same impression. Any extra labor for which she has time can be given to insuring the scrupulous clean- liness of substantial and appropriate garments. An air of respectability and independence is thus given which no one can mistake. A DAY OF WORK. 53 The necessary morning work of the house is thus completed at an early hour, and it is possible that a morning drive may he in order, in wliieh both servant and child can partici})ate. In a city home, where the business of the husband is down-town, so that the din- ner-hour is of necessity late in the day, this can fre- quently be arranged, as the lunch of mother and child requires but little time. If she is in the habit of driving, it ought to be possible to arrange this as often as once a week, and in a small systematic family, not overmuch addicted to gewgaws, it might be done more frequently. Her necessary morning calls might be made at this time, or it gives her an opportunity to gather up house- hold supplies or attend to other purchases. The ser- vant and child participate in the wholesome enjoyment, and the mother's hands are left free, so that she can per- form these duties without being absent from her child more than a few moments at a time. She is thus free from over-anxiety or haste to return home lest her child should be ill cared for during her absence, and the pleasant lesson-giving can go on at the same time. Without the early completion of her own morning work, and the oversight of her kitchen at the same time, she probably would not be able to do this, at least to secure the presence of the servant to relieve her hands from the immediate care of the child. For in over- seeing the work of the kitchen she luus secured not only that it should be properly done, but also thai it >hould be done in proper time. When she returns she (inds, probably, that she has brushed the cobwebs out of her mental horizon, and is far better fitted for the remain- ing duties of tlu; day; and the child, tcxi, with his b* 54 HOME AND SCIIOOIj TRAINJNQ. ahimdaiit ab.S()r|»ti(jii oi" i'rcsli air, lias liberally iiKTca-ed his capacity for good behavior. "Then gayly take the foot-path wnj', And merrily jump the stilo, boys ; Your cheerful heart goes all the day, But your sad one tires in a mile, boys." Nursery Rhyme. The young mother cannot overestimate the effect this cheerfulness on her own part will have on the happy spirit of her child. When we speak of a sunny temper we use the right term, for it has just the kind of l)enefi- ceut influence which the sun has on everything about it, illuminating even the dullest labor, and enabling it to carry its own burdens. Some persons would suj)- pose that the mother who has her household and her child to care for, with the help of but one servant, would be too heavily burdened to find many hours of relaxa- tion, such as has been mentioned. But, if she is inde- pendent and systematic, she may frequently find such hours. For, if she is independent, she will prefer clothing plain and clean to any abundance of showy garments; and if she is systematic, she will save all the time and hurry and worry of disentangling unfinished and disordered work. There are few such drains upon the time and patience as work left over to be done out of the proper place. The heaped-up work of weeks that are past is a most exasperating sight, as well to the careless person who has nesleeted it as to those who have the misfortune to hold any relation to her. If the daily duties laid upon any one in her own household are ordinarily so heavy that it is impossible for them to be carried through at A DAY OF WORK. 56 the proper time, the first duty, evidently, is to change them, — to reduce them to sucli simplicity tiiat (hey wiil come within the limit prescribed for them by necessity; and it is probably true that any one can do this who has not the shirked duties of other people laid upon her shoulders. For our own work it is easy to plan, but for those tasks laid upon us by the world's shirkers it is a puzzling matter to make provision. This puzzle frequently comes to housekeepers in the form of an un- faithful servant; but, on the other hand, the servant may sometimes suffer from undue tttsks laid upon her, and it also comes often from members of her own family. All-important as system is, it need not always form an iron rule. For example, if the drive we have mentioned comes but once a week, it is important that a fine day should be secured for it. With the excep- tion of the weekly wash, most things can be deferred when the day is fine and the occasion comes but one day in the week. Suppose, in a family of four |)ersons, the ironing requires an liour and a half for each })erson. This would give six hours for the ironing. The time it really does require depends upon the amount of trim- ming placed upon the garments. But supjiose it to re- quire six hours in a family like the one before us, an active servant would probably finish it in one day, if the day is given to her without serious interruption. But if the day is fine and the weather generally un- certain, it is better to secure the drive and divide the ironing betwoiiu Tuesday and Wednesday. That which makes for heallh and cheerfulness can least of anything be spared in the household. Returued to her home, her child enjoys the health- 56 HOME AND SC/TOOL TRAINING. I'lil ii;i|t ill liis ciil), llic (liiui^^lils arc tiiriKMl on in the kitchen ranf^c, and the ironinir, or whatever the work tliere may he, j^oes sniootlily on. Her (h'ssert, pre- pared in tlie early morning, sits nicely in the refriger- ator. rh(! remainder of the dinner can be prepared, or nearly so, witliont her help, and she ha'^ th(; quiet- ing consciousness that evcrytiiing has s]ij)ped into its pr()[)er groove for the remaining labors of the day. Her sewing, lier reading, and her music can receive their modicum of attention, and she has ])robably a few moments to think what j)leasant morsel she can next present to the understanding of her child. Usually there is no better time in the day for holding his atten- tion, or for giving his thoughts the drift required, than when he is first waked from his morning nap. If he is in health, he wakes fresh and happy, with his at- tention unclasped from the things about him, so that she has an opportunity to direct it as she chooses. At this period she is teaching him, mainly, content- ment and cheerfulness and language, the first as oc- casion admits, — these being based mainly on love to the Creator, as manifested in His works of earth and air and sea and sky, — tlie last in his nursery-tales, ar- ranged and selected as she sees fit, and in all the cur- rent of talk addressed to him. She can add to these, if she chooses, the worsted balls and othei's of Froebel's first gifts. Her work is very much like that of the vine-dresser. She watches at firet the proper feeding and the opening buds, but presently the tendrils appear, stretching in one direction and another in their aj)peal for support. They are reaily to cling, as we have said, to any support that is otiered, good or bad ; and, THE COXSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT. 57 if none is offered, the soft tendrils roll l)ack upon themselves, and become a gnarled and tangleil mass, useless, nay, worse than useless, the vine falls to the ground, its wholesome growth ceases, and it becomes a dwarfed, unsightly thing. Section II.— The Consequences of Neglect. It is just here that the mother most frequently fails in her duty. This stretching out of the tendrils is like the ap|)eal of the child's understanding for sup- port and assistance from her own mature mental powers. He shows it in the constant questions which are poured out from his eager mind. She has led him forward into what is to him a wonderland indeed. He stan unwisely recommended — wisely in choice, unwisely in manner — are busy and happy in their work. 'iMi< v do not want him. They have never laid it down as a portion of their duty to take up and lead in the pleas- ant ways of mental growth those children whom their own mothers have cast out upon the highways, reliising to ten(;h them. But those who fill the path she has prohibited are neither busy nor happy in their work. They do want him, as they want anything with which they can amuse themselves for the moment and which can then be cast aside without further trouble. So, unless some accident comes in to save him, it becomes almost inevitable that the wanderings of this neglected child will be in the forbidden paths. His mind is eager and active; it cannot be stayed unless it is para- lyzed. But, in the blind appeal of the understanding for help, it has found opportunity to attach itself only to those who were also blind. And when the child grows older, and feels the penalty of his evil choice, he rails at the world as one which has no meaning in it, — one in which the world within, with its clear laws of right and wrong, its ideal good, and its appreciation of all beautiful things, whether ideal or external, is wholly at variance with the outer world, in which evil seems to run riot. This beautiful vine, with its once-appeal- ing tendrils coiled back harshly upon themselves, is in little condition now to accept the support the mother is so late in giving it. HIS MENTAL WANTS MUST BE SUPPLIED. -39 Section III.— His Mental Wants must be Supplied. This motlior, wlio wiis so nuich delighted when her child'.s thoughts first i'oiind utteranee in words, — words which were only the preenr.sors of liis eager question.s, and which were given liim that he might find help in the growth of his nnderstanding, — is she to stop here and refuse to give him the needed help? refuse to mai\e it the prominent duty of eaei) day to answer his question.s, and to put his mind on the right track for a.sking them? She has taken long walks through the world's pleasant fields of knowledge, and has come back, we may hope, laden with fruit and flowers. And shall she refuse a share of these to her child? Shall she refu-se the time necessary to select from them such as are suited to his daily growth? "But," .says she, " he does not know what it is that he wants : he is crying for the moon !" Very well, then, give him the moon. He is ]>robably not crying or calling for any material thing. What he wants is that his mental activities shall be fed, that he shall know al)out that which excites his wonder. A few minutes' pleasant talk about the impossible thing, and he is satisfied. If it is an impossible thing, — that is, one beyond his reach, — that is ju.st the thing he wishes to know. If this is not true, it is because he has been started wrong in the first training given to his under.standing. The child is far better pleased with the flower which his mother holds in her hand while she i)oints out its beauties than with the one he is allowed to seize and <'iiish l)efore he has gained a glimpse of its |)erfectioiis. Indeed, the attcm[)t to seize and crush it shows that he (]() //O.I/a; AM) S('II()()L TllAIMSa. luis l)cen trainetl to expect iiotliing better fVoiii it, A few futile attempts to grasp the tnoonbeatns as they lie on the window-sill or the veranda floor, a lifting of the child himself into the flood of light and hack into the shadow, jjointing out the difference in the color of his clothing in the two cases, and he has a new source of amusement, which is certainly what he was seeking. He no longer cries for the moon — he lias it, it has come down and embraced him. " Where is the rest of it?" asks the child, when he sees the new moon. " Why, it has been away, and it comes back a part of it at a time. You can watch to-morrow, and the next night, and see if the rest comes back," is answered. The child may go far astray in his questions, but through them we discover what is in his mind. What he really demands is a knowledge of the things about him, and he will pursue his search whether we Jtssist him or not. What we insist upon is that he was placed helpless in his parents' hands in order that their expe- rience might assist him in gaining correct knowledge, and that he cannot safely pursue his search without their assistance. Mental neglect at this period means starvation, and consequent disease; and what can we expect from these but stunted growth ? Learning false- hoods in the place of truth, stirring up unwholesome facts with no wholesome ones to correct them, he be- comes, when the school-room opens for him, a very unpromising candidate for success in school-life. It would be well to examine this neglected child when he is ready for the school-room, — not for the purpose of finding anything that will aid in his school-work, but to take account of the rubbish that really exists in his HIS MENTAL WANTS MUST BE SUPPLIED. (]1 miud, to find what he is thinking about. The mother does not know. She probably knows something about his health and his manners, but the chikl she has neg- lected does not confide his thoughts to her. But even if one had taken account of this unwiiolesome growth, it would be very difficult to get rid of it. It has taken root in the virgin soil of his mind, and clings there with its first rank vitality. The task of supplying the child's mind with wholesome food for thought is as simple as that of supplying his body with wholesome food and air. The materials are on every side of us. A child of fifteen months, after a prolonged period of gray days during a stormy winter, entered a room where a long stream of sunlight flowed over the carpet from a window. She immediately began to run along this stream of light, and on turning saw her shadow and stopped. She was encouraged to run on, so that her shadow would move before her, and to extend her hand so that its shadow was also distinct upon the floor; and for many days she amused herself in this way, calling the shadow by her own name, and tracing the pattern of the curtain where it obstructed the light. When the spring came, she would stand in a portion of the veranda which was well shaded with vines, and watch the play of the leaves and sunshine on the floor with a quiet, liappy smile. She had traced these things partly to their causes, — she knew something about them. But the interest at first shown would have been very fleeting unless some effort had beeu made to hold it in its place long enough to make an impression. When we see a child flighty and (•a|)ricious, gras|>iiig at everything and pleased with nothing, we cannot but 62 HOME AND SClKjnL TRA1AL\(J. lliiiik that no effort has been made t<^) fasten its attention upon ohjeets of interest, or that, if attempted at all, it has been done in some slight, unsatisfactory way whi(!h entirely failed of its object. The impatient child will strike from his nurse's hand the worn-out toy that has been presented to him for the liiindredth time, while at the same time he will climb up with womlering interest to look at the inside of his father's watch. He is weary of having the same (hill lesson constantly pre- sented. For this reason, building-blocks, or whatever will give a variety of forms, are valuable toys for chil- dren. But even here they need occasional assistance until they can vary the forms themselves. There is much time and strength wasted in the school-room from inattention and lack of interest on the part of teachers, from lessons lightly given. But we hardly expect the mother, with all her love and anxiety for the welfare of her child, to fail in this way. " But," says the mother, "it is imj)ossible for me to spend all my time in answering my child's questions, as he seems likely to demand." Yes; impossible, and improper. The child that is kindly treated will make no such demand. When he sees that an effort is made to answer his ques- tions so that he shall understand them, that pressing work is sometimes put aside that this may be done, he will not be slow in responding to this reasonable treat- ment. When he sees that room is made by his mother for the gratification of his wants, he will be ready to follow her example, and make way also for the wishes of others, unless in those cases wiiere he has been allowed to consiiler himself master, — cases so bad that no rules can be srivon for instruction under then. In WHAT SHALL THI-l LESSONS HE? ^3 tlie.se aflec'tionate concessions the mother will tind the greatest possible lightener of her burdens. It is not true that children are altogether selfish. Love is devel- oped in them as early as selfishness, and, though their feeble reasoning powers render it difficult for them to see from another's stand-point, they are not rcniiss in showing their affection when they do see. It is only among selfish people that children are altogether selfish. Section IV.— What Shall the Lessons Be ? The child will readily understand that he is not to ask questions when strangers are present, or when the mother is occupied with absorbing work. If she is systematic in the division of her time, it will be much easier for the child to understand when she is occupied ; and .sometimes a very little child will save the ques- tions he is eager to ask until such time as the mother has laid aside her busy cares and is once more ready to give her attention to her children. We have seen a verv voung child standing at the mother's knee with a volley of these stored-up questions, waiting in patient expectancy for them to be answered. The time for say- ing " we don't know" to many of these questions comes very early. " How did the leaves get inside the bean ?" he asks when he sees the dry bean which was |)lant(d in his presence a short time since push upward with opened valves, bringing its secret to the light. And in the brief explanation of what we do know with regard to it, and the showing that this is the limit of our knowledge, lies one of the mo.st important le.s.sons. It gives him the first hint he receives of the wide distance there is between our wi.sdom and that of our Creator. f54 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. Siicli ('X|)lai)ation.s belong to a later |)crio(l tliati tlie first two ycairi in the nursery. Tlic motlier wlictse kindergartening work ninst go on in the midst of her other duties will often find that this is no hinderanee, but a lielp in her work. The work itself may give constant suggestions and interest to the ehild. But she must |)lan well. She needs to have it clearly in her mind what ends she is to gain, and by what means she is to work towards them. She knows that she must teach him, as soon as she can make her- self understood by words or signs, obedience, cheer- fulness, courage, a warm love to all the works of Gedience, not its necessity merely. The child's sense that it is a duty will come first from his confidence in the love of those enforcing it, afterwards from a perception of its reasonableness, while undue sternness or severity may lead a child to see the necessity of obedience without understanding in the least that it is a duty. He obeys from fear, and as he grows older and his fear diminishes he will probably disobey as often as he dares, and will perhaps attempt very early to remove himself from the care of parents who have used their authority so un- wisely. Runaway boys belong often to such families. Not always, for there is another element in our social economy that exerts its evil influence over our boys. I refer to the low class of fiction which has spread its poison so widely during the present generation. Its influence is another proof of the great need of an in- weased parental oversight of the young. An English author, in giving an account of his own heavily-burdened childhood, says that he was often severely punished without knowing any cause or prov- ocation he could have given for the punishment ; and there are many unhappy children everywhere who could say the same thing. They have been subjected to the passionate moods of capricious parents, or to the " word- and-biow" policy so common among the lower classes. How can the mother know, when she leaves her chil- dren to the care of domestics drawn from these classes, or sends tliem to spend the first years of their life entirely among them, to how much of this miserable USE AND ABUSE OF PARENTAL AVTIlOniTY 07 " word-and-blow," or blow without the word, i)i>li(;y they have been .subjected? or how mucli .sullenness and resentment and irritability and low cunning have filled the child's mind before her own influence is brought to bear upon it? When the much-needed confidence between the child and those who have charge of him is once broken it is no easv matter to restore it. He has become accustomed to unrca-on- able authority, and does not readily accept the idea that any control is reasonable. He has firmly c(Mi- nected in his mind the ideas of authority and ill usage, and he frames his conduct accordingly. Those who make the eifort will find that it is not easy to dis- abuse him of his ill-formed notions in this raspect. In emphasizing the impropriety of leaving the moral and mental growth of little children to th;.' care of servants, I am not unmindful of the fact that we often find servants whose affection for the child would guard them against the most serious errors with little aid from their understanding. But we must remember that we have no class of native servants, none that have been trained in any sense in the ideas of an English- speaking jieople, and that those we hav^e from foreign sources rarely have any ideas of service or any fitness other than what they have gained during their brief stay on our own soil. There are exceptions to this, as to everything, but this is the rule. In this work of training, the wrong way is that which is not the right way, ancf the right way requires study. The opposite evil to that of undue severity is that of over-fondness and dread of infringing on the chiM's righl:^, — a feeling carried so far sometimes that it may (38 HOME AND SClHjdL TRAINING. well 1)0 called a puliny .seii.siljility, 'J'lic child is lioL ol" all to be fitted for his journey through the world, and the traveller in the world's ways does not find himself seated in the midst of a mass of air-cushions. He is to be fitted to recognize the actual gowJ in the world and to withstand the evil, and an over-cultiva- tion of sentiment will not enable him to do either. It needs keen eyes to recognize the good in the world as well as the evil: they often masquerade in one another's garments. " Look for the roughest stones, if you want agates," called a traveller on the Rocky Mountains to his companions. And some of the world's best gems are thus hidden, in the valleys as well as upon the mountains; while, on the other hand, a great amount of evil is set with gems most brilliant to the eye; and in each case it needs reason, not sentiment, to pierce the covering. Some parents say, "My child shall be reared wholly under the influence of love ; no one shall frighten his tender spirit with stern or un- kind looks ; he shall never know what a blow means." A blow is certainly to be avoided, and the mother may, and in most cases can, find other modes of co- ercion which will stand most advantageously in its place. But if she gives up coercion altogether she will find that she is herself coerced, that the child's will stands superior to her own ; and no good can come of this kind of mastery. We have to deal with actual and not with ideal human nature. Parents who at- tempt to train their children in this way seAi to sup- pose that the reason is developed as early as the will, and that the child is capable of right choices from the first, or thut llie aflection will always dominate the USE AND ABUSE OF PARENTAL AUTHORITY. 69 will. Neither of these propositions is true. The chiUl of strong nature possesses a strong will. He needs this quality to push his purposes as life matures. And, since the physical nature and the will develop before the reason, the physical appeal is sometimes necessary. When this is true, the more promptly it is given the less frequently will it be needed. If the child obtains a parley, he will insist on the belief that a parley will conquer. He must not be left in the dark, however, as to the nature of his fault. The child that is ruled properly is always ruled in love, for the decision that he shall yield to rightful authority is the outcome of the highest love, — a love which looks to the future as well as to the present, and which can give up any weak impulse of tenderness for the good of the child. But the idea that any show of parental tenderness can always coerce the will of the child is not in accord with our experience. It may succeed in a majority of cases. It should always be brought first to bear; but the child must know that, however strongly it exists, a rightful decision lies back of it. The cases we have seen of an attempt to rule by this excess of tenderness have met with most discouraging results. True, there have been children with whom nothing that can be called coercion was ever necessary. There seemed no blemish in the beauty of their lives. A quiet indication of the parents' wishes was enough. But these are exceptional children. No mother can predict when a child is laid in her arms that it will be thus free from the common impulses of human nature. Those we have known have not travelled far on the world's uneven ways ; there may be those 70 iroMJ-: AM) SCHOOL tiiaimng. wliu liavc scon siidi cliildren ;^iu\v to iiiatiiritv. And as I lie world progresses, and parents become more alive to their parental responsibilities and their per- sonal responsibilities, such children may become the rule and not the exception ; but the time is not yet. Section II.— Hints from Foreign Sources. It' \vc are anxious to lift human nature to a higher level, it is worth our while to glean from all sources such hints with regard to the results of early training as we can obtain. The Indian mother wraps her child in swaddling clothes and binds him upon a board, where he can do no harm to himself and cause little distur!)- ance to others. She hangs him upon a tree, where he swings among the leaves, expecting no answer to his calls except such as the winds can give him. When the winds are too fierce, she takes him down and sets him upright among the scant household gods in her wigwam ; or, if she wishes to move from place to place, she binds him upon her back, and pursues her silent way with him through brake and brier. And the child grows silent, and passive, and wary. He grows erect in form, but his tied-up limbs will hardly ever fit them- selves to the varied activities of one of our American merchant princes. An Indian recently, in one of our Western Ter- ritories, had six cows given him by our paternal government. After keeping them a short time, he gave them all away but one, "Too much work," he said. The Indian child acquires also in his moveless infancy a look of stern gravity, and a silent or apathetic accept- HOW S If ALL THE RIGHT BIAS BE GIVES' 71 ance of the good or evil gifts of fortune, traits which follow him through life. These traits must be pro- duced in part by the stolid inattention lie receives from his overburdened mother at tins period, but in the extreme to which tiiey are carried they must be the result of many generations of growth in the same di- rection. Throughout these generations, however, the bias must have been determined during the first months of infancy. There is an old Indian myth that may iiave been first an outgrowth of tliis trait, and after- wards an aid in its cultivation. This myth is evidently based on the theory of evolution, for it relates that tiie Indians were at first bears, and went on all-fours, grumbling and growling, with their faces drooped close to the earth. But the Great Spirit grew weary of this constant grumbling, and told them that if they would cease their complaining, and let him hear no more of it, he would set them erect, and they would appear as men. So the bear became an Indian, and the Indian never grumbles. The power which such a mytli obtains over the spirit of a people can just as well be obtained, in greater or less degree, by well-chosen nursery-tales, A study of the groundwork of those sui)erstitii)ns which have ruled the human mind would give valuable hints for better lessons. The soil that grows rank weeds is worthy to be cleared for grain. Section III.— How Shall the Right Bias be Given? It is not enough tliat we give general injunctions for right-doing; there should l)e also special examples of courage and noble action sinn)lified to their understand- ing, which will sink into their minds and take root 72 HOME Ai\D SCHOOL TRAIMNG. tlierc. ll iiuist be remembered that tl)(; iiijuiictiuus given and the l)ias given may be totally opposite. He is a successful i)arent or teacher in whom they fully coincide. There are parents and teachers lavish in in- jimctions who give no bias at all in the direction of these injunctions; they rather repel from them. But these images which are presented to the child's mind appeal strongly to his love of moral beauty, and, if not crowded to a surfeit, are almost sure to give the bias de ired. It is better that the mother should herself select these from her own range of reading, for that which has most strongly impressed itself upon her own mind will be most strongly impressed by her on the mind of another. The very effort of selecting these will be of value to her, increasing her judgment and her power of observation in regard to the influence exerted, — for in this she must learn as she goee, — and giving her fresh power of discriminating between what is healthful and what is injurious. The courage which needs to be taught to young children is not the daring of chivalrous action, but the courage of noble sacrifice for others, the courage to endure, to meet disappoint- ment, to accept life as it is given. The foundation-les- sons on these points can be given here more easily than one might suppose who has not made the attempt. The more important lessons will come later, and the incip- ient taste thus formed will aid in shutting out the bale- ful literature which exerts so strong an influence in the country. A prominent French author, in giving a report on our system of public schools, says that pa- triotism and love of noble action are kept alive by the elocutionary exercises of these schools, in which heroic JiOW SHALL THE RIGHT BIAS BE GIVEN? 73 and patriotic poems and speeches are recited. The glowing love of heroism and self-sacrifice, and the cor- responding disgust for cowardice and whining, found in every human heart, have already been referred to. It is better to show these to the child's mind in pictures which present their beauty or deformity than to wait till he has fallen into a fault in these directions, and then to administer all the instruction he ever receives on these points in a rebuke, against which his self-love will rise up ready armed. Forewarned, and with this innate sense of what is beautiful and what is contemp- tible, he becomes his own teacher, and will gradually correct himself when liable to error. Heroism is too often understood to be merely a brilliant daring, a sud- den show of dashing or reckless conduct. But it is much more than this, and the more quiet pictures of heroic action, if the impression is a clear one, will prol)ably have the best effect on the child's mind. These selections may be carefully suited to his natural traits of character as they are developed, and should not be too much pushed in directions where there may per- haps be naturally an over-development, as in sensibil- ity, for example. This is one of the points where the mother can do so much better than any other person in her own nursery, since she is with her child all the time, watching the development of these traits, and she also understands them far back in the line of descent from which they came. 74 UOMI-: AND SCHOOL TRAIMSO. Section IV.— Teaching of Morah. It is folly to say tliat fliildren need no oversight in the knowledije they gain at this early period, that it will eoiiie of itself. What is it that will eome of itself? The knowledge of the street or of the ser- vants' hall, the knowledge of gossip, and vanity, and envy. He will not have to go far to learn these: the careful mother will find them quite too near. But the knowledge about which oversight is needed is intended especially to keep these things out by see- ing that the carefully-cultivated soil sh*ll have scant room for this class of weeds. It is true that in fam- ilies where the daily life of the parents shows the high principle l»y which they are actuated, — the thor- ough self-control and the just consideration for others, — the child will naturally imbibe much of the same spirit, and grow up showing strong features of the excellence of the family into which he has had the good fortune to be born. But this does not come wholly either from example or inheritance. Such parents are sure to have, in the exact balance to which their own lives have been reduced, a mode of teaching which, if not formally systematized, is never- theless systematic. They could not be what they are without teaching to their children in one way or an- other that which seems necessary. In this home in- fluence is seen the difference between brilliant and substantial characteristics, between outside work and that which strikes to the core. Some people seem to suppose they have brought their characters to the model which they approve when they merely wear tJiese char- TEACHING OF MORALS. 75 actenstifts in the eye of the outside world, without in the least perceiving that this character is with them only a holiday garment, never put to actual use. If the parents we have just mentioned err at all in their teaching, it is apt to be in too great confidence in the excellence of human nature. They seera sometimes to forget that if their own lives have been reduced to a delightful balance, it has been done by personal etfort, and that by no human being can this be accomplished except by direct personal effort; that this is a world into which children are not apt to be born with wholly celestial aptitudes, and that no one can do this work of curbing and controlling for another. What we do for children is only to set them in the right path. There is a mistake into which in these days very ex- cellent people sometimes fall. They form the idea that nature, pushing ever upwards in evolutionary develop- ment, is constantly improving the human race, and thus think they can do no wiser thing than to leave nature to herself. The usual results of this decision seem to prove that morality does not come within the range of natural selection : at least it has somehow been largely left out by these children in the combination of quali- ties gained in this upward tendency of nature. To l:iii to teach in all its nicety the code of morals to which civilized humanity has attained is to leave a child mor- ally just where the scientist would be left if lie were de- prived of all text-books and all teachers, to study na- ture from the beginning. An instance in point is given in "Methods of Teaching," by Professor J. H. Hoose. "A young man of excellent parts entered college. He had adopted the theory that self-education is the only 76 HOME AND SCHOOL TUAISISG. way to learning, and rofusctl U) consult or study lx>oks in order to prepare his lessons. He attended tlie reci- tations, observed very closely what was said there, and depended upon his genius, or ' inner consciousness,' to evoke from liiniself the knowledge he possessed. In process of time he was graduated, and dropped into ob- scurity. After five or six yt'ars he suddenly appearetl at the office of the president of the (college. He desired to submit to the president a law in physics which he had discovered by his own unaided observation during the past six years. If approved by the president, he would publish his discovery. He had discovered * that heat expands metals and cold contracts them.' The president called his little daughter, and asked her, 'What is the first law in natural philosophy?' She said, ' That heat expands metals and cold contracts them.' Said the president, 'You see how many valu- able years you have lost by neglecting to study books as well as objects.'" "But the child's moral code is within him," says one; "he will discover it for him- self" The assent to a moral code is within him, — the affirmation that it is right to do right, the love of truth, and of right-doing, — but the details of that code have been grown to through countless generations in the progress of the human race; otherwise wdiy have they differed so widely in different nations? God has given us the love of truth that we might discover truth, the love of right that we might discover the right relations between man and man, which to some extent must vary as circumstances vary. We believe that we have the i)est moral code in the world, but we have reason to think that some nations are in ad- TEACHING OF MORALS. 77 vance of us in the care with which they teach their own codes of morality to their children. We neglect this duty in various points, and the lessons of filial piety, of brotherly love, of kindness to inferiors, of deference to superiors, of respect for age, etc., are very rare or very lightly given. The parent may teach, kindly or sternly, to his child the lesson of respect to- ward himself; but it is a dry root if left here, if the basis on which filial piety rests is not, in one way or another, made clear. As the artist, by one stroke after another of iiis crayon, builds up his picture, so we, by one simple illustration after another, build up the image we wish to impress on the child's mind. It is not done in a day. It is presented to him now in one form and now in another, but it gives a complete picture in the end. Yet the child needs pictures from the life as well as to the life. Very often moral teaching is weak, and is placed on no right basis. We want muscular morality as well as muscular Christianity, — something that will stand amid rough usage. If the teaching is weak or mawkish, as it sometimes is, it will never stand the test of contact with the world. And when the child sees that the structure to which he has pinned his faith is washed away, he is apt to believe that the foundation-pillars of virtue are gone. A little girl who was quite inclined to question parental authority grew more thoughtful and obedient when she knew why it was that her father went away early in the morning to his business and was often weary when he returned at night. Such things are not diflicult to teach, and it is not amiss for the child to know them. We wish little children to be free and 7* 78 IIOMK AND SCHOOL TIlAISISfl. li:i|i|ty, hut it is iiercssarv Jilso tlmt tlicy sliould imder- sluiid tlic'ir relations to tliosc al)out tlic;ni. How cjin we expect them to give up their natural self-love un- less some trouble is taUen to make them sec the inter- dependence of" human relations? The lessons are everywhere at hand. The nest of the bird with its hungry young is built, as if purposely, at our window. The hen is yonder, patiently busy with lier handsome brood. And the poor we have always with us. Section V.— Of the Fitness of Things. Both in animals and plants adaptiveness to their con- ditions of life is one of the most interesting and valu- able points the child can examine : as in birds the fitness of the claws to clasp the limbs of trees, of the bill to penetrate the bark or tlie cups of flowers, of the feathers to keep out the wet and thus to prote.-t the yonng. A feather dipped in water shows the last quality. And in plants the child is set to discover what varieties they are that love the shade, as ferns, pansies, fuchsias, etc., and thus to gain some idea of the surroundings amid which they were first found. The variations which show the wonderful devices of nature are endless. The mother uses her ingenuity in turning the child's atten- tion in the direction required. She says, "Annie, I wish you to put this cup ()n the table." The child ex- tends her hand for it. " Do you think you can take it?" And Annie shows her surprise at the question. " I wish yuu to take it in your hand without using your thuml)." The cliild looks amused, and tries. " Can you carry it without dropping ?" " Yes ; see, I can carry it." " You could do without your thumb, OF THE FITNESS OF THINGS. 75) then?" Annie stands thinking. " No ; 1 couldn't put on my shoes without my thnmb." " Very well : think what else you would not be able to do without your thumb." On the morrow the mother has ready some iiints in natural history. She calls Annie to examine the pic- ture of a bird's foot. " A bird, as you see, has his hand and foot all in one," says the mother : " how many fingers has he?" And Annie counts. "Which is his thumb?" "He hasn't any." "Very well, a bird doesn't need any thumb, then ?" " That's his thumb," says Annie. "Yes; I think we can call it his thumb." " What is it for? " Why, that is for you to find out." And, as Annie has already learned some roads to dis- covery, she is not long in finding out. " 1 know what a bird uses his thumb for," she says. " Well, what Is it?" " He uses it to keep him from falling out of bed with." " Out of bed !" " Yes ; isn't the limb of the tree his bed?" In similar ways she is led to find out the meaning of web-feet, of the long legs of the waders, of the peli- can's pouch, or of the broad beak and cogged teeth of the shoveller. The seed of a geranium is picked and shown to her. "It is called 'cranesbill,' " says the moti'.er. "See if you can find anything like it in your natural history." If the seed of a wild gcrnnium is found growing in some by-corner, it can be added to the lesson. The habits of seeds form an interesting study, and so on and on without limit. It is not so much what we can find to do, but what we can Igave undone. Where the families of friends are receiving: the same kind of" instruction, when the children come together 80 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. llicy will <»r tli('iiist'lv«',s be ready to compare notes and to pursue tof^etlier the same range of lessons, and the pleasant occupation will keej) out the floating thistle- down that sows thorns in the mind. Such lessons in those objects in which the child is interested from the moment he opens his eyes to the light give the best of opportunities to correct any pos- sible deviations from the mental symmetry whicii we desire in him. When this work is commenced early enough and carried on with sufficient care in all homes, — if a thing so desirable should ever be attained, — the army of " cranks," of which we hear so much, will doubtless be diminished. If a child possesses any physi- cal deformity, — a limb that is not straight, a tooth out of line, an eye that is oblique, — even the most painful efforts are at once resorted to in order that the offend- ing member may be brought to the proper symmetry. But any obliquity of the understanding is apt to be looked upon as incurable, or passed over with indiffer- ence. Parents and friends are often slow to appreciate the extent to which such an evil may grow. The child obtains distorted views of things ; the events passing before him are snatched at so hastily that he forms the most erroneous opinions, and his dreams and imagin- ings are so mixed with them that the slightest shadow will be rounded out into forms and attributes, upon whose reality he will insist. ''What a little liar he is !" says his father roughly, and the child's lip quivers and his eves fill with tears. But the next account of things he gives will be liable to the same distortion unless some pains is taken to ascertain where he goes wrong, and to remove the scales from his eyes. A per- OF THE FITNESS OF THINGS. gl si.stent recurrence of" lessons on similar objects until the cliild knows the whole thing without danger of mistake is the best remedy liere, the same exactness being continued until a full apprehension of objects becomes a habit of the mind. And the pleasure of the child at this success will be no less than that of the parent, though it may not show itself in the same way. To })revent weariness from this necessary recurrence of the same or similar objects, the lessons may be so arranged as to become connected in his mind with some pleasure that he enjoys, — not that the i)leasure should be offered as a reward, but that the weary lesson may be so placed in juxtaposition as to be overshadowed by it. Such a child will be niucii more liable to find these lessons wearisome than the one whose mental activities are in their normal condition. And the ultimate aim of these lessons is not the information acquired of the forms and attributes of the object presented, or even the knowledge of English gained in giving names to tiiese forms and attributes, but it is the healthful cultivation of the understanding. Common sense — a clear judgment of common things — is its highest result. This same conmion .sense applied to things out of the common range is genius.* The lack of this heallhl'ul working of the understanding — the greatest evil that can befall it — is the dis|)osition to see things which do not exist. This is the fruitful foundation of suspicions and superstitions, of :ill the unreasoning notions that can lead the mind astray. Is it possible to suppose (hat children woukl be so * See Chapter VI. iSection 111. 82 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAIN! NO. thoughtle&s and cruel its tliey sometimes are if tlicso lessons were given freely at the proper time? " Oii," says the indifl'erent mother, "they will come up all right, as other peojile's children do." But they will not come up all right. They may polish off externally, so as to meet ordinary social emergencies, but they are not all right within : there is no foundation in right principle. It is a very strong person who finds the way himself without having had precept or example to guide him. In attempting to give this right bias to the mind we are not to do all the work for the child. We simply set him face to face with the lesson he is to learn, and his own mind does the rest; and the conclusions he reaches for himself have the strongest hold in his mind. Frequently the child's mind is found to be filled with something which opposes itself to these leasous. It is rarely wise to give them d, propos of some fault he has committed. It is better to wait until the fault has passed at least partly from his mind. It must be remembered that one cannot teach who cannot interest. Patience and observation are e^ential components of this power to interest. The lessons should not be forced into unwilling ears, should not be pressed upon the child when his attention is absorbed in some other thing. The mother who interests him thoroughly day after day will hardly have this difficulty to meet. His attention may be said to be at her control. But there are times enough when he sits contentedly upon her lap or at her side, wearied, perhaps, with his play, in which his thoughts can readily be turned in the channel she indicates. CULTIVATING THE POWER OF ATTENTION. 83 These should be honest Icsson.s, with no attempt to play upon the sensibility, such as the child will one day learn to take at a discount. With the facts placed be- fore him he will draw his own conclusions. CHAPTER V. THE MOTHER AS KINDERGIkTNER. Section I.— Cultivating the Power of Attention. The task of the mother is twofold : she is to con- tinue the habit formed in the first months of life of finding out the " who" and " what" of objects about him, of learning the names of those objects and how to utter them, by assisting him to further knowledge of this kind, which he would not obtain without her assistance. This secures wholesome mental growth. She is also to set before him, as far as his mind is able to receive it, a knowledge of the relations in which he stands to the outer world, and that which, through these relations, becomes due from himself to others, from others to himself, — that is, the fomidation of wholesome moral growth. Much of this last can be given better in child- hood than at any other time, and must be given then or the child is unfit for any companionship. As regards the mental growth, it goes on in any case, whether she gives it attention or not ; but a neglected growth is not wholesome in the nursery, any more tlian in the garden. If it were nothinu' nioie than that his attention is dis- 84 HOME AM) SCJ/ntJl, Th'AJX/yG. sipiitoil ill |)ii.sliiii^- Ills eager desire for knowledge \>y liiiiiscir, it would be evil enough. He seizes one thing, and, uiiai)l(! without liclp to learn anything there be- yond what i.s presented to the eye, throws it down and tries another, until he has lost the habit of attention which he will want so much when his days of study come, and also the expectation of finding in these objects anything that he desires to know; and through all this the habit of flightiness and inattention grows on, until the power of application he will need a little farther oil is wasted. As regards the fear of wearying the child by holding his attention long enough to obtain an answer to his inquiries, there is no doubt that prolonged attention wearies ; but dissipated attention also wearies. The fluttering of the mind from object to object without iinding anything in whicii it is interested is far more wearisome than any reasonably prolonged attention, as we may see by watching the child, as well as by watch- ing the movements of our own minds. If attention is over- wearisome, why does the child sit so long over a complicated toy, pulling it to pieces and examining every part? If prolonged attention Is injurious, we must take the toy from him, we must be careful never to give him a toy in which he is interested. Dissipated atten- tion is always wearisome to child or adult, except after periods of active work or play. The love of beautiful objects is developed in all chil- dren in greater or less degree, and it would lie difficult to find one who ilid not admire something beyond the gay pictures of his toy-books, if his attention has been turned in the ripiness, and she needs to battle diligently against it. The fii-st thing to be done is to add to the interest of the object she places before him, — to let him know that there is not only something that will reward him at first glance, but that there is something beyond. The aim is to rouse in him an expectancy regarding the objects presented, and one which she never leaves ungratitied. If his atten- tion is never called to an object except for the purpose of turning it away from that on which it is already fixed, instead of the feeling of expectation he ought to have he is filled with resentment. She is not to be discouraged by a few failures. The power of interest and attention are there ; the thing required is to hold them in place until that which they grasp is seen to be of value. This hasty, inattentive habit dims and breaks whatever images are presented to the mind. If the difficulty experienced comes from a superabundance of physical activity, there need be no alarm. The health which is doubtless the foundation of this activ- ity is too valuable a possession to be an occasion of regret. The mother needs only to suit herself a little more carefully to its times and seasons. A child pos- sessing this kind of activity is not apt to be lacking in intelligence, and, from the first ray of intelligence he shows, she can, with care, bring his mental activities into her gras]), so that he will enjoy the power of INSIGHT INTO CHARACTER. 87 knowing as well as the power of growing, with which his physical activities are busy. But she must avoid mistaking the weak restlessness of caprice for this buoyant activity. The one is to be conquered, the other brought into proper bounds and cultivated for future use. Such a child sliould have as early as possible a room or corner to himself, where his activity can have free play without harm to anything. Section II.— Insight into Character. There are few things a mother needs more than a power of discriminating nicely the traits her child exhibits. It is desirable to recognize not only the form in which they appear to-day, but that in which they are liable to develop to-morrow. For example, she has here a pleasant, yielding child, who assents readily to her wishes and is easy to control, and there an obstinate one, who has great confidence in his own opinions and resists with a will the argu- ments she luts to offer. But by and by she finds that the yielding child is yielding to the wishes of every one else as readily as to her own, while the other, into whose mind her own views of things have dropped and taken root, is fighting for them vigorously, having gained faith in them from steady investigation. An insight into character should be cultivated in every woman. She needs it before her marriage, because without it she is liable to become the prey of the most unworthy, and she needs it after her marriage, for every reason. It may be said that this is a nat- ural trait, not capable of cultivation. But that this is not true is shown i'roni the fact that a wide accpiaint- 83 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. ance with tlie world always give.s this insight into character to one not deficient in observation. This familiarity with the world comes usually too late for the purpose mentioned; but if it can be acquired in this way, it can probably be cultivated by other means. The reading of well-written biographies, and of lin lary reviews that give a close analysis of the author and his work, will furnish many hints in this direction; and the best histories, too, contain a series of biog- raphies. Indeed, a wide knowledge of history is one way of obtaining a familiarity with the world, with mankind. But these histories should be by the best authors, — accounts of living men, not of the dead slain on the battle-field. Section III. — Time put at Interest. It may be asked how a young woman can find time before her marriage for an extensive course of read- ing of this kind. A glance along the shelves that contain volumes of the lightest fiction in our public libraries sufficient to show their loose-covered, dog- eared, and service-worn condition, a stepping aside for a few moments to watch who they are that come down the stairs with these shabby books in their hands, would go far towards answering this question. And if any young lady would look over the list of her social duties and amusements, and cut otf all such as can be of no possible use to herself or any other per- son, and would cut off also such of the exactions of dre,ss as pertain to these useless duties, she would find a gain of valuable time, which, if put at interest now, as it can be, would yield her in the days to come TIME PUT AT INTEREST. gg large returns of" honor and peace ; for an increased capacity to perform the duties and overcome the dif- ficulties of life cannot fail to give her honor in tiie eyes of others and peace in her own heart. And this is time put at mtcrcst. All efforts in the direction of system and order are time put at interest ; all men- tal seed-sowing which, when once rooted, grows of itself into a harvest of insight and intelligence is time put at interest, and that, too, in the best-paying bank the world has yet known. It would be neither wise nor necessary that she should cut herself off from so- ciety. Amusement and relaxation are needed as well as work, but solid enjoyment is found quite as often in work as in amusement. But she should select the best society within her reach, and only so much of it as she has time and means to cultivate to advantage, and during this cultivation her study into character goes on. It is not in the quiet pools of society, how- ever, that this study is pursued to the best advantage, but on the broad current where strange ships come and go. And the best helj) that can be obtained in this direction is when the insight of great thinkers is brought to our aid. This wise use of time will fit her to enjoy the best of society, and render her a valuable addition to it. If the mother is so unfortunate as not to have cultivated society within her reach outside her own home, she will soon have it within, for slie is training her children in such a way that they will soon oflfcr lier the best society that can be found by any mother. 8* 90 HOME AND SCHOOL TltAIMNG. CHAPTER VI. CLEARNESS OF IMPRESSION THE FAST FRIEND OF TRUTHFULNESS. Section I.— Recapitulation. There are thus three special poiuts wliich the mother must place before her in this early instruction of tlie child : I. That she is to lead him in the line of his self- attained knowledge as soon as she can make herself understood, watching as she goes for means by which she may be sure that she makes herself understood. II. That she rouses his interest, and learns from the result of her instructions whether they are leading iu the right direction, — whether she has adopted right means to the ends she has proposed. III. That the impressions given are clear, standing by themselves and separated from all other things. These are modes of securing the one important point, viz., of keeping awake the child's natural love of know- ing, so that it may not die of famine before his days of formal study commence. The evils of inattention in this respect are shown to bo that the child cannot of himself obtain satisfactory answers to the questions he is disposed to ask concerning objects and circumstances about him, and therefore turns his attention to other things ; that these other things are usually found to be a pushing of his own selfish interests, and his powers MISCHIEF OF CONFUSED IMPRESSIONS. 91 of mischief, in the house; and in the streets, if he is allowed to pursue his love of study there, the same things, together with the learning of all sorts of slang and ill-conditioned knowledge, and the power of draw- ing amusement from cruelty to animals, and even to human beings. So that, through this neglect, he is losing all love of useful knowing, and is learning, not English, but a miserable substitute for it, which will go far to prevent him from knowing very nuich, and from ever making a clear statement of what he does know. For the mass of knowledge which comes to him must come through a clear understanding of his native tongue. And, fur- ther, that lie is filling the fresh soil of his mind with a rank growth which it will take all the early years of his school-life, if not all his mature life, to eradicate. Undue severity and neglect always cultivate selfishness in the child. He feels the injury and resents it, and spends his mental energies in an argument for his own rights, as opposed to those of others. The spirit of antagonism becomes strongly pointed. Section II.— Mischief of Confused Impressions. Touching the third point a good deal of care is necessary. A mass of confused impressions in the mind of the child will rob the instruction of its interest, and make the lessons almost worse than useless. For this reason the lessons should be simj)le, and well adapted to the understanding of the one child to who?n they are given. No one can know as well as the mother the stage to which the understanding of the cliild Jias ar- rived. And she has the best means of ascertaining 92 HOME AND SClIOOr T HA IN I NO. wlnlln.'i' the iiiij)r('.s.si()ii iiiiult; is cltiii" or conrii.sed. She needs to push her questions until she obtjiins a report from the child which shows how the knowledge she has striven to impart lies in his mind. This is a thing of far more importance than is the s|x;cial item of knowledge she has aimed to give him. The under- standing of the child is clogged and deteriorated bv a continued series of dim and confused impressions. In place of his eager inquiries there come discouragement and apathy. He gets nothing of vahie in return for them. They cease to interest him, and the report he can give of them will interest no one else. It will thus be seen that great injury may be done to the child by a confused and carele&s teacher. Section III.— Teaching Untruthfulness. But the mischief does not stop here. Tiie child, in his inquiries into things about him, is searching for truth, but, not finding it, he becomes indiiferent. The answers that reach his mind are unsatisfactory, but they stand to him in the place of truth. He becomes tired over the puzzle, and loses in a measure the power of giving a f^iithful report of the objects jiresented to his .senses. His imagination helps out the dim impre.'ssions given, but on making his pieced-out reports he finds himself constantly accused of untruthfulness, while he hardly knows where the error lies. And in many cases it is nearly as much the fault of the teacher as his own. He has become accustomed to a half-knowledge of things. The account he can give of anything which has passed before his senses is altogether meagre and incomplete, or is so colored by an untrained imagina- TEACHING UNTRUTHFULNESS. 93 tion that it oversteps the boiuidrf of reason. The hal>it grows as he grows, and he comes to be looked upon as wholly unreliable. A strong mind would have cor- rected the evil of itself before it reached this point, but a weaker one, or one possessed of more imagination than reason, will not. He is capable of originating the story of the thousand cats. It would be quite possible to a child who had never witnessed a similar scene to transfer the cause of the noise and confusion by which his attention was arrested or his terror roused to numbers, rather than to a fury which he cannot understand. Even with adults a scene of unusual noise and confusion will often so dim the powers of perception that they are unable to give an ordinarily accurate account of what has taken place. In such cases a correct report can be drawn only from those who are unusually cool and self-controlled. This coolness, this habit of unruffled observation, is a thing worthy of cultivation in childhood, and the opportuni- ties of doing this are not rare. Excited feeling will always stand in the way of this accuracy, and with children, to whom all the world is new, who can tell what circumstances may have occurred to throw the mind into a state of undue excitement, or to dim the powers of perception ? An observing mother will be on the watch against these states that obscure the mind and tend to continued obscurity. Often the child's senses are deceived. Unfamiliar witli the varied phenomena by which he is surrounded, he becomes confident that they have reported to him a certain phase of things. And the '' Nonsense, child !" with which his accounts are often received, not only wounds his feelings but 94 IIOMI-: AXD SCHOOL THAI NINO. cniiCinns liis ()|tiiii(iii. lie thinks Ik; lias a ri^lit tu be- lieve tlie evidence of liis senses, and lie Ijccomes first (l() is strong enough to solve the puzzles for himself. And the teacher who is 96 HUME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO. not sulFicicntly on tho alert to know where the ob- scurity exists, and sufficiently wise and persevering to overcome it, needs to be fitted anew for his work. But when a school is filled with children to whoni no home instruction has l)ecn given, the teacher may be so occu- pied in working out the rubbish from the mind that it will be long before any clear impressions can be received there. If the mother has retained her own natural love of investigation, and is fond of talking to her child, she is pretty sure to constitute herself his teacher at this period without any set purpose of doing so. But very few who have not these qualifications are apt to set themselves about acquiring a fitness for this work. Tlie importance of doing this is not recognized. There is a culpable indifference with regard to the first growth of the child's mind. If we go into a greenhouse for the purpose of selecting plants, the gardener will say, "No, not that one; it has been too much in the shade, and has become etiolated. You can never do anything with that;" or some other conditions have been unfavorable, and it is rejected. But he selects for us fresh stocky plants, which, from the first putting forth of their young leaves, have been under his careful supervision. He sees that their conditions are at all times adapted to the nature of the plant. Are the con- ditions in which the growing mind of a young child is placed of less importance to his future life than those of the plants with which our summer walks are adorned ? Section V.— Fairy-Tales. In the stories selected for the literature of childhood care should be taken that they are truthful, that they FAIRY-TALES. 97 are not such as the child will receive to-day and dis- card with a feeling of resentment to-morrow. The pic- tures of life which tliey convey must be real and whole- some, based upon a just view of human relations, and not upon a weak sentimentality; for only these just views will stand the test of experience. Not that fairy- tales and myths are to be discarded. Many of these are truthful in the highest degree. Tales of the unreal — parables, we may call them — seem natural to the mind of the child, and are readily understood. Witii a quiet self-complacence he sees through the transparent veil of myth to the real image beyond, and Santa Clans is none the less delightful because he can whisper to his little sister that " mamma is Santa Claus." Yet the story of Santa Clans and other myths can be told in such a way as to become actual falsehoods. How much confidence will a child feel in one whom he re- members as having, not long since, insisted that such myths are a positive fact? Nothing can be more short- sighted than such an act in the mother, to whom the confidence which should exist between mother and child is all-important. There is a class of fairy-tales in com- mon use which can hardly fail to do much harm ; and they are those which are, perhaps, more popular than any other, forming, as they do, the basis of long-drawn dreams, in which the child's mind will revel for years, and whicii give him thoroughly distorted views of life. The prince disguised as a beggar, the fairy as a decrepit old woman, is presented to the child's mind in so many forms, and is dreamed over so constantly during the years of childhood, that every tramp or ad- venturer is apt to become, to the fertile imagination, ■& g 9 98 IIOMI-: AM) SCHOOL TRMMSG. a prince in (li.sgiii.se, who is to plaee a coronet on the maiden'.s brow, or lead the ambitions youth to (keds of honor and renown. And if the mother finds her- .self snrprised by an elopement, or a rnnaway, before her children have come to years of discretion, it is not perhaps to be wondered at when tliis unreitsonable romancing is so popular. Most occurrences of this kind are to be traced to the new class of fiction which is so extensively read, but an appetite for this unwhole- some reading may be formed by these earlier tales. How can it be supposed that a young person will be satisfied with the ordinary and sensible ongoings of life who.se mind is feasted day by day upon the extrav- agances of this high-wrought fiction ? If the mother were to find daily upon her daughter's table a decan- ter and gla.ss of brandy, she would hardly have more cause for alai'm than she has when she finds each day in the same place the newspaper or volumes in which stories of this cla.ss are met with. The only way we can see of curing this vitiated popular taste is to cultivate the judgment in children; for any sound judgment will reject such productions with disgust. This taste, then, is one of the worst results of early neglect. The foundations of our myths and fairy-tales have been handed down to us from the early homes of our race, and were perhaps better fitted to the times when the daughters of the house lived in .'^eclusion and the sons were under the constant tutelage of war- like life, than to our present days. We have changed our manners; perhaps it is time our fairy-tales were revised. HONEST TEACHING. 99 Section VI. — Honest Teaching. We see on all hands how deep is the root which early teaching strikes into the mind of the child. But it is not everything which seems to be teaching that thus takes root. That which lie understands, which he knows to be true, which he handles with his own hands, his own eyes, his own judgment, the precept which is daily exemplified in the lives of those by whom it is imparted, will remain with him. But the lesson that was given only in words, the moral prece})t that is never exemplified, will hav^e little foothold in his mind. This teaching by contradictions, a high morality by precept, a low one by example, will have its effect according to the degree to which it is practised. But a life of thorough insincerity, practised daily be- fore the child, cannot fail to be most disastrous. There are probably some minds that will find their way to the light through the mid.st of this confused instruction, but they are very few. In our attenipts at upward progress it is necessary to set before ourselves, and of consequence before our children, ideals of life higher than those which we can constantly succeed in reaching; there would be little upward progress without these ideals. They are the step higher which we constantly strive to take; but in this case the failure comes from lack of power, not from lack of sincerity. The fault lies, and is seen by the well-instructed child to lie, with the imperfections of human nature. It is curious to note how very soon a young child will understand and join in a strife for self-control in his own feeble way, acknowledging his faults of temper, impatience, 100 HOME AND SCIi(tOL TRAINING. etc., and really conquering them by slow degrees. But if tlio mother exacts from the child a higher standard of excellence than she imposes on herself or expects from the friends about her, the lack of justice will readily be seen, and she will probably obtain no such results from her instructions. There are mothers whf), in their love and pride, expect their children to be from the beginning patterns of every excellence, and sup- pose that to accomplish this they have only to add line upon line and precept upon precept, a mass of undi- gested rules, without any attempt to j)ermeate the mind with a love of them, and forgetful that the ebullitions of child nature will not readily submit to the prim pat- tern in their own minds, and that most of the civiliza- tion their children will ever possess is to be taught them between infancy and maturity. When such an attempt appears to succeed, it is usually true that the pattern is only a cover of the nature of the child, not an out- growth from it; and in this case the lesson given is one of deception, and not of excellence. The child revenges itself in the nursery and the play -ground for the staidness it has assumed in the presence of strangers ; so that these pattern children come to be the dread of their companions. Shyness is apt to be a quality of children possessing the greatest loveliness of character, consequently they are not patterns in the presence of strangers. Whoever strives after excellence is con- scious of his own imperfections, and this consciousness does not create boldness in a child. The mother is the guide in the real process of civilization, and she cannot expect it will reach perfection at once. MODES OF DISCIPLINE. 101 Section VII.— Modes of Discipline. The slips and falls are very much like those of a child learning to walk, and should never be treated with .severity, except where the rebel will asserts itself. There is no surer way to correct these errors of care- le.ssne.ss and forgetful nes.s, of sudden ill temper or selfishne.ss, than a kind and helpful eneouragcniont to do better next time, — to guard again.st the tempta- tion to do wrong. Yet some means will often have to be adopted as a reminder, to impress upon the mem- ory the necessity of caution. The penalty may be neces- sary, but the encouragement must not be neglected. When fits of passion occur, violent and uncontrolled, the best resort of the mother is a light, ]>added closet, in which the child can be placed, without the power of giving or receiving harm, until he is restored to sanity. Give him a heavily-co veered cushion, or some other object, which he can pommel to his heart's con- tent, if his feet are in agouy. He will not wear it out very rapidly. Never close the door in such a case, or, at least, never fa.sten it. It is better to leave it slightly ajar, while the mother remains near, at her reading or her work. He may be allowed to come out when he feels better, which he will often do with a grim smile, but no word ; and he should not be pressed at this time. Later, when the smart is less, he will be able to bear some reference to his fault. With many a child it would be harder to l)ring himself to ask for- giveness for his shameful outburst than to control his temper. He need not be required to do both at the same time. And really it is against himself that lit- 9* ]()2 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. has Hinnc'cl, lallior than against his mother. But the mother should be on lier guard against hysterical cry- ing, — a case in which the child may need close atten- tion and careful soothing. It is ea-sily detected from the choking and suffocation which attend it, accom- panied sometimes by violent beating of the heart and shivering. In sucli cases the child's health needs care, and he should above all things be shielded from nervous excitement in any form. Violent laughter, or plays of exciting nature, must be avoided, and the mother's attention turned to toning up the system generally. To meet the child's anger with paternal anger is, of all treatment, the most disastrous. Section VIII.— Growth of Character. There arc families of whom we may be pretty sure that all the children trained in them, whether heir or alien, will come out substantial, right-minded people. And where this is true the heads of the family have undoubtedly understood the springs of human action, and the necessity of an early cultivation of personal responsibility. There are well-governed families, so called, where there is no cultiv^ation of personal responsibility. They are well governed simply because those in authority are strong, and their rule is not one of cultivation but of suppression, and is good because no one under them dares defy their authority. Such a government, whether in nations or in families, is good only in ap- pearance. Under the white ashes a fire smoulders, but is not quenched. Where the parents are strong the chil- dren are likely to be strong, and strength repressed is GROWTH OF CHARACTER. 103 apt to breed a spirit of defiance. There is no certainty when tlie spring that held them back will be removed, and the defiance that chafed beneath it will start np armed for its destructive work. The growth of char- acter is a thing we need even more than the growth of intelligence, at least in the present age. We say that intelligence, education, a knowledge of the laws of that world of matter in which God has placed us, lies at the foundation of all progress. And so it does. The comfort, the material improvement, upon which civil- ization is based, we receive at the hand of the scien- tist. But if, side by side with this, we have not strength of character, clearness of judgment, and steadi- ness of purpose, our temple of progress is built upon the sand. When the weak have the ascendency the world goes backward. We may carry our knowledge of the laws of nature so far as to light our fires from the sunbeams, or bottle the rays of the stars for use, but while bad men and weak, blind women are liable to gain the ascendency they can give in a single month all tiie improvements that the wisdom of ages has ac- cumulated to the destroying hand of an uneducated rabble. The best phase of the world's progress has been wiped out again and again by the bubl)Iing up of the muddy waters of a reckless mob. And this danger will last so long as we neglect to give in our work of education that balance created by a perception that the moral world is interpenetrated and bound np with the physical in such a way that only confusion and misery can result where one is cultivated at the expense of the other. Physical knowledge has no meaning until its moral values are perceived, — until its facts are put in 104 HOME 'AND SCHOOL TRAINING. place by :i porccjitioii of Uieir relations to one au(jtlier and to the spirit l)y wliieli they are ruled. The moral value is the answer to the problem. Conduct, action, personal responsibility, is that which moves the world, that for which the world waits. To heap up knowl- edge that throws no light on these moral questions is as if we should spend our whole lives in working at alge- braic i)robleius that are never solved. As the world now stands, x is morality, — the answer sought, — that which balances the equation. The moment electricity is har- nessed for the comfort of men, it becomes a moral agent. What we need of education is that it shall place in our hands the right clue. No education is finished that does not reach this point. But even a limited educa- tion, rightly managed, may reach this point ; and in this work the cultivation of the judgment is the chief factor. CHAPTER VII. ANALYSIS OF THE QUALITY AND INFLUENCE OF CERTAIN MODES OF INSTRUCTION. Section I.— Society Educates. We say that society educates, and to a certain ex- tent it is true that, with all the efforts the mother can make, society is still in a great measure the educator of her child. But this should only stimulate her en- deavors. Society exists at different levels. Even in the most licentious age the level of pure morality exists SOCIETY EDUCATES. 105 among tlie tlioughtful and cleaivsighted few. It may be pushed aside out of the air of courts or the ranks of fashion, but its tendency will be to absorb those who are accustomed to breathe the same pure atmosphere. If we look closely into the history of the mor^t lawless times, we shall find that this is true. The effort of the parents, then, is to assure that level of society by which they choose that their children shall be educated when beyond their own hands. According to the hold which home instruction gains upon the child's mind, the bias it succeeds in giving him will be the moral level at which he will naturally assimilate the education society is fitted to impart. But to suppose that the upward growth of the individual must stop at that level of so- ciety which his age is fitted to give him, is to ignore all progress. Out of the families where this home instruc- tion is given at its best come the moral leaders of suc- cessive venerations. The accusation of inconsistencv in teaching the doctrines of that ideal life towards which the tendrils of progress are forever reaching up- ward, comes from those who cling to life's lower levels. Without the vision of this higher life, towards which all those who have the civilization of the world at heart are striving, the hopes of humanity would be \Mxn- in- deed. To strive and fail is better a hundred times than not to strive at all. And parents, knowing their own imperfections, should be satisfied if they find an eager, loving child anxious to do well, believing that the strength for well-doing will come as he grows older, as it will, if he is not discouraged by exactions which are quite beyond his strength, until lie comes to have no faitli in well-doing. For many parents lay down 100 HOME AND SCIIOOIj TRAINING. a standard foi- tlieir (^liildicii wliich iIk y wcudd never tliink of imposing iij)on themselves, and endeavor, often with no littl(! scvoritv, to bring them to it. " Oh, yes," says the father, "I may fall into error myself, but I am going to see tliat my children are all right." This mistake may toaoh deception as well as discouragement, for if the child is not honest enough to be thoroughly disheartened in his endeavors, he will soon come to be- lieve that the appearance of well-doing will answer for the thing itself. He then finds it easy to put on an outside garment for the sake of winning applause. Section II. — Teaching Vanity, Envy, and Self-Respect. This love of applause is deeply embedded in human nature, and it is, moreover, either directly or indirectly, continually taught in a way that allies with it almost inevitably the feeling of envy, and envy makes wholly for selfish unhappiness. This phase of teaching should be closely studied where it is considered necessary to cultivate the spirit of emulation in schools. It is one thing to bring a child forward to show oflp his fine points, and quite another to exact from iiim a quiet in the presence of strangers which is not imposed upon him at other times. The mother has no occasion to inflict upon her guests that work of instruction to which she subjects herself in their absence. Neverthe- less, little children must be taught that they are mem- bers of the family, and that they are to receive and return in some way the greetings of guests into whose presence they come. It is just as much an injury for a young child to be ignored by the guests who enter the room where he is as it would be for any other member LEARNING TO READ. ]07 of the family to be treated with similar neglect ; ami the manners of children in families where the rule i.s to see that they are not so ignored are incomparably .-;u{)erior to those of children whose parents suffer their existence to be forgotten when strangers are present. They thus obtain an apprehension of their own position in the social scale, and when they come to the border-line be- tween childhood and mature life, the boldness or the awkwardness which may come alike from embarrass- ment is avoided. Section III.— Learning to Read. It is generally considered that learning to read marks the first stage of positive instruction. And for the pur- pose of obtaining knowledge from books — that to which the term study is commonly aj)p]ied — the command of a written language is of necessity the first step. But our systems of instruction are apt to make the mistake of supposing that the power to read fluently — i.e., to name at sight the words placed before the child on the page — is the command of a written language. But even if this amount of knowledge will enable a child to elicit information from books, what shall we say of the one who is only able to stumble through the process of naming words at sight, with little or no regard to their meaning? It is here that the mother's early teaching of language is such an assistance to the child when his school-days are reached, in saving him from (he double burden of learning the written form and the meaning of words at the same time. If this has been made a special point in Ikmuc! instruction, (he child comes well furnished to the task of obtainintr knowledtie from 108 HOME AND Sa/IOOL THAINING. books. He liiis also a liappy exj)iiik, "What pow'cr does he possess to abide in the principles in which he luis been taught, to make right choices, ]32 HOME AND SCHOOL TJIAIMNG. udlieriiig to the good and resisting the evil?" And it is to he remembered that this power is not to be meas- ured by the number of admonitions* lie has received, but by his actual practice of forming right judgments and following them up by right actions. "I am sure I have told him often enough," says the mother. Ay, but have you watched him with silent love and sym- pathy as his mind worked towards the " right choic-es" you had placed before him, dallying and doubtful, until at last he evaded them in the interest of his self-lcjve, or accepted them with a sturdy courage which showed the moral fibre he possesses? "He obeys me," says the mother. Yes, but no act of enforced obedience can show what bias has been given as it can be shown by these independent choices. Let us have obedience where it is necessary, but freedom enough always to test the child's strength. It is not enough to cast seed into the ground ; it needs some further care, some work from the cultivator after it is cast in. Section IV.— What School shall he Attend ? These points settled, the next question is, What school shall he attend? Under the care of what teacher or teachers shall he be })laced? As the work of instruc- tion now stands in this country, the question, in the large majority of cases, is decided by circumstances. It is not, on the part of most parents, a free question as to the form of the school and the fitness of teachers, but these points are modified by questions of proximity and expense. Where freedom of decision is possible, the highest aim of the parents will be to secure a thorough teacher, — not a thorough disciplinarian merely, not a WHAT SCHOOL SHALL THE CHILD ATTEND? 133 man whose hobby is tlioroughness in study, whatever other good may be overridden to attain it, but a man or woman wiio is a teacher to the core, one who loves knowledge and truth so well that he not only fills him- self to the brim witii it, but by the impulses of his nature causes it to overflow, watering and bringing into bloom the mental soil about him. The description is not overstated : there are such teachers. The love of study for its own sake is the chief disciplinary power they require, but where anything else is needed the authority is at hand. The influence of such a teacher over his pupils is a thing of rare value, — a thmg which can be appreciated only by those who have tested it. One who knows its value will go far to secure it ; but it is not everywhere to be found. Modifications of this natural teaching-power are possessed in various degrees by many teachere, and their real value as teachers is to be determined by the degree to which it is possessed. For the power to impart knowledge — to impel the pupil in the direction of truth — is what is required of a teacher, and no amount of disciplinary talent or of power to make a showy school can atone for the lack of it. To the extent at least of requiring a fair amount of this power the parent should let the quality of the individual teacher determine his choice. Some may question whether teachers who fail to possess a fair amount of this power are ever retained in school; but one would be mistaken who inferred that they were not. Such a teacjier may very easily happen to be what is called a good disciplinarian, i.e., one whose pupils stand in awe of him ; and in such a case he is very likely to maintain a foothold in the school-room, 12 134 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAIN ISC. whetlier possessing any real teaching- power or not. J t is not uu uncommon tiling lor careless observers — school- boards, as well as others — to call a person a good teacher who is simply a severe, sometimes almost a savage, dis- ciplinarian, but wiio possesses only the lowest average of capacity to impart knowledge. Tiiere must l)e thorough discipline in the school-room, l)ut it is hardly this kind that is required. The person possessing the highest quality of teaching-power disciplines as naturally as he teaches. Xenophon has said, " Instruction is in any case impossible to one who cannot please;" and this pleasure is in itself a disciplinary power. The pupil is absorbed in it, and chooses to conform to such re- quirements as enable him to reach most surely the knowledge he is seeking. Power to interest implies power to influence. The man or woman possessing this qualification is by nature a person excellent in author- ity, but the harsh disciplinarian is by no means excel- lent in authority. School-boards may satisfy themselves with the progress the child is making in memorizing " opaque," drilled lessons, but the parents who really care for the welfare of their children will continually assure themselves what is the actual growth of the un- derstanding from this stirring of the soil that school life gives, as well as what is the growth of character which is the outcome of this broadening of the under- standing, — will inquire whether the child is gaining wholesome views of life, a balanced insight into the relations of things, and the content which arises there- from. HOW MUCH TIME FOR SCHOOL LIFE1 136 Section V.— How Much Time for School Life ? Beyond this, the ([Uestiou of the school he is to attend is determined by tlie other important question, what or how much lie is to study. " A little of everything," is the ready answer that common custom dictates. Very well. He certainly cannot study much of "everything" in the time allotted to an ordinary school course. If he takes a college course, he should in tiie end have a pretty good knowledge of some important things. How great this knowledge is depends upon the use he has made of his time and strength. But an examination of the best college curriculum will show that those studies to which he has given considerable attention are limited at most to two or three, and that to others a comparatively slight attention has been paid. This is seen in the division of courses. A student is ex- pected to graduate from a literary course with a fair amount of classical knowledge, from an engineering course with a sufficient knowledge of mathematics and applied science, and from a scientific course with a tol- erable understanding of the sciences at their present state of advancement. But where one of these branches are made prominent tiie others have to take a subordi- nate i)lace. If the classical student wishes to pursue mathematics or draughting to the extent to which they are carried in an engineering course, he must do it at the expense of his Latin and Greek, or he must add to his hours of study. There is no occasion, then, when it has been decided by school-boards and educational advisers that the child is to study a little of every- thing, and is to complete this knowleilge of every- 130 HOME AND SCHOOL THAININO. tiling l)y the tiiiu! he is seventeen or eighteen years of iige, to cry out that his school-course is superficial, that he is nowhere thorough, but gets a mere smattering in each branch. What else can he get? If by super- ficial is meant that he knows but little of each of these several branches, it is all that can be expected. That little, however, he ought to know. According to the most advanced ideas, he is to commence school at seven. Then custom seems to demand that he shall finish an academic course at seventeen or eighteen. At this latter age he has not reached maturity, and can do no such work in the school-room as is done by more mature minds. To the average pupil a year of study after he has reached the age of twenty is wortii two years at the age which so frequently closes an academic course. Section VI.— Examination of Programme. Let the one who really wishes to understand this matter make an estimate of the ground " everything" covers in these days of heterogeneous knowledge, and parcel it out through this brief circle of years. I take up the catalogue of a highly popular and excellent school, and look at the programme of a high-school course of four years. It is the decision of the best teachers in the country that three substantial studies are as many as any pupil can pursue at the same time. Suppose that one of these three is a language, ancient or modern, we have then two English studies at a time to be continued through tiie course. Forty weeks in the year is the outside limit of time given to school - work. There are no substantial English studies in EXAMINATION OF PROGRAMME. 137 which anytliing approaching a fair knowledge can be giv^u in less than twenty weeks. Taking this, then, as a basis, we find that these twenty weeks will give one hundred lessons in one study, provided there is no inter- ruption, such as a weekly elocutionary exercise or other general exercise. Of these lessons at least twenty are needed for review, — more if the study is difficult. For these reviews are all-important, as enabling the pupil to group the various branches of the subject in his mind, so that he comprehends the whole. Taking the im- portant studies in the programme before me in their order, I have the following result. These twenty weeks to a study give sixteen English studies for the course, thus : 1. Grammar, 9. Arithmetic. 2. Book-keeping. 10. Geography. 3. United States History. 11. Elementary Algebra. 4. Geometry. 12. Civil Government. 5. Physiology. 13. Physical Geography. 6. Botany. 14. Higher Algebra. 7. General History. 15. Khetoric and Critioi.sm. 8. English Literature. 16. Zoology. I now find that, omitting the lighter work and taking the other branches in their order of .succession, twenty- four branches have been omitted from this four years' course. Of these the lightest work — reading, word- analysis, penmanship, etc. — are usually made to accom- pany the more exacting studies. If we throw out lan- guage entirely, we have room for eight more English branches, to which this amount of time can be given. Selecting these as before, we have : 12* l;38 HOMK AND SCHOOL TRAINING. 1. Geology. 5. Political Economy. 2. Chemistry. 6. PhysicH. 3. Mental Philosophy. 7. Moral Philosophy. 4. Perspective Drawing. 8. Trigonometry. If a language is retained through the whole or a portion of this course, some of these studies must be omitted, and otiiers shortened to the unsatisfactory period of ten weeks. In the majority of cases it would be better to drop them altogether and give the time to the completion of some other brancii. But, if a teacher selects well, and is successful in impressing on the minds of pupils the topics presented, there are some studies from which valuable topics can be cho.sen for a ten weeks' study. But let such a pupil fall into the hands of examiners who know nothing of the topics presented, and they will be apt to find out a good deal more of what he does not know than of what he does. Section VII.— Primary and Grammar School Work. " But," says some one, " what has tlie child been doing all those years in the primary or grammar school, if he is obliged to study grammar and arithmetic after he enters upon an academic course?" Probably he has been fighting out the battle between his untrained mental and moral, ay, and his physical activities, and the requirements of the school. And a pitiful battle it is if he has had no training at home before he enters the school-room except that of being permitted to grow physically. In this case he is much less fitted mentally for gaining the knowledge he really requires than he was at the close of his second year. Up to that period the forces of nature had obliged him to learn, mainly PRIMARY AND GRAMMAR SCHOOL WORK 1;39 in the right direction. But after this period he becuincs far. more independent of the forces of nature, but more dependent on the bias given i)y others in the wider range his search for knowledge takes. He is obliged to select for himself if his home instruction is neglected, and in doing thjs he learns a new language, and forgets that old delitjhtful tonu^ue which was so full of the heaven-created harmonies of the outer world. Tliis new language is probably the language of war. The hammer-clang of the outside world has called him to do battle, clamorous or crafty, witii the armies of uni- versal selfishness, and he has learned their tactics faith- fully. He has done well, too, if he has not learned much of the language of vice, a tongue which its vo- taries stand on every corner intent to teach. But the old language he has forgotten was that of the laws of nature, and thus of the laws of love, — of the adjust- ment of rights. If he has received the home instruc- tion which was his due, he knows how to maintain his own rights with dignity and self-possession, and to give way readily and kindly when he sees himself tempted to intrude on the rights of others. Thus, with his ob- servation sharpened, his attention trained, and a fair perception of what is due to himself and from himself, he enters readily upon the work of the primary school without the months and years of secret resistance to its exactions which the neglected child is almost certain to go through. But without this preparation the time given to the children in the lower schools is not enough. N<»t that there is not time enough for the actual work, but there is not enough to create first a disposition for the work and then secure what is needed. So desirable is 140 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. it, however, where this is the limit of education, that some portion of mature strength should be given to the work Of study, that it would probably be an advantage if the pu])il were removed lor a few years from school before his academic course commences, and set to learn some handicraft, some portion of mercantile insight, or whatever may comport with his aim in life ; the daugh- ter to learn housekeeping, for, whatever a woman's oc- cupation in life may be, she is the housekeeper, the centre, and must understand the details of home life. Married or unmarried, she is never quite at rest unless she has a home of her own, however simple, which she can control. But there seems to be an ambition on the part of most parents to have their children finish a miscella- neous course of study at this early age, however mucii they may be disturbed by the fear of broken health on the one hand, or of superficial knowledge on the other. The time to look at these things squarely and under- staudingly is when the child enters upon his course of study. Before a score of years have passed over their heads, the majority of the pupils in these schools have gone out of the school-room into business or into so- ciety. And, since they cannot have a very extended knowledge of everything, it seems to be decided that they shall have an initiation at least into the several branches the age has to offer. Section VIII.— Half-Knowledge. There has been a wide increase of knowledge in the world during the present century, which brings a heavy pressure of demand upon our schools. What plodding HA LF-KNO WL KDQE. 141 student of the classics in the last century was called upon to explain the steam-engine or the electric tele- graph ? What classes followed their professor over field and fell in jHirsuit of geological strata or speciinens in natural history? And our schools are ready to take in everything of the new, and give up nothing of the old. But where a course of study is so widened that the pupil is able to acquire no thorough knowledge, it is an evil against which all should cry out. He shoidd at least know what thoroughness is through his own mastery of some important branch. Nothing is so devoid of interest as a skeleton of knowledge from which all the flesh has been pared away. And in the initiatory knowledge he gains of various topics this knowledge, as far as it goes, should be complete. Where a school does not give this, it is to be avoided. It is better to know one division of a subject wholly than to have a half-knowledge of the whole subject. For example, it is better to know geometry well and trigonometry not at all, than to have a blind knowledge of both. There is nothing more useless than this half-knowledge: it is a plant without root, that withers away. It might be thought that, like other things that pass out of the memory, it has been useful in giving mental discipline; but it is doubtful whether this blind study gives any discipline, unless it be in a slight gymnastic exercise of memory in a sequence of sounds, as when the child learns " hickory, dickory, dock." When, however, the pupil has really mastered a well-selected course of academic study, including these general topics, the term superficial cannot be aj)jilied to him. He knows what he pretends to know, and this initiatory knowledge has 142 nOME AND SCJIOOL THAI NINO. ^'wvn liiin the opportunity of testing those branches with which his tastes are most in unison, so that his after-leisure can be applied as he chooses ; and he has in hi.s mind a fair, tliough a very brief, suniniary of the varied knowledge which the world has thus far accu- mulated. But more than all this is the discipline he has received, — the [)ower, greater or less, to manage whatever thought comes before him, whatever subject it may be to which he applies himself. CHAPTER X. RESULTS TO BE EXPECTED. Section I.— Text-Books. There is a great difference in the manner in which ditFerent branches have been epitomized for academic or common-school study, as there is also a great dif- ference in the success of different authors in the same branches. The greatest success has, perhaps, been at- tained in our common-school arithmetics, the greatest attention having doubtless been paid to them, and the least in our common-school histories. With these last there seems to be no idea of making them race-his- tories, — the all-absorbing story of our ancestors, how they lived, and what they accomplished in the world. It would almost seem that a small hand-book, tjivinsr a good description of British barrows, would give more real historv of the race than is ffiven in manv school TEXT-BOOKS. 143 histories of England. Wlien tliey leave their thread- bare tale of wars, they enter upon the still more thread- bare discussion of boundary-lines. These skeleton list.s of wars and bloodshed seem to be, like the skeleton in armor, a relio of that savage period when the highest virtue a man could claim among his contemporaries was in the number he had slain, — the frequency with which he had given to the wolves their fejist of human flesh. Of those who waged these wars too little is said to interest the pupil, and the dates he has memorized, as they lie in his mind, are apropos of nothing, — at least of nothing tangible, — and are forgotten almost as soon as learned. Even our United States history is treated in the same way, whereas our woods and fields might be made, to our children, alive with the brief history of our country. The great fault in the school histories of distinct countries lies in the fact that the images they give are confused ; the forces the author has in hand are not well marshalled. A writer of his- tory, especially of an epitomized history, should be able to drive six-in-hand. Dr. Day says, in his "Art of Discourse," " A history of the world's progress which should firmly grasp the one race of men, and present the common changes they have undergone in their common relations, keeping the unity of the theme ever in sight, would be as attractive and fascinating as most universal histories, so called, that have as yet appeared are repulsive and wearisome. Such a universal history is a desideratum in our literature." While these histories remain what they are, it would be desirable for the parents to teach this branch them- selves to the children at home, or at least to fill out the Ill HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. picture as the study goes on in the school-room, so that it will no longer be a blind study, difficult for the mind to grasp or retain, and hardly worth retaining when the feat has been accomplished. The only young stu- dents I have known who have had any knowledge of history worth naming have been those whose parents have thought it worth while to make the past history of the world a topic of conversation in the home circle. In such homes the knowledge of history becomes a delight. There is still a good deal of lumber in some of our lower-grade text-books which might well be weeded out, and the strength given to other things; but attention seems to be turning in this direction, and we may hope for improvement. The difficulty of over- pressure, however, in a limited course of study comes mainly from the fact that has been mentioned, that no proper adjustment has taken place between the studies which have crowded in for attention during the present century and those which made up the work of educa- tion in the last century. There is, on one side, a de- mand for the same amount of classical study which was required when all the knowledge of the world, broadly speaking, was bound up in a dead language, and this language was the one medium of communica- tion among the learned ; while, on the other side, the new discoveries and the revisions of old theories, which have turned the world upside down within the present century, are crowded upon the attention of the pupil. At the same time, the growing opinion that a child should do nothing but sow- tares during the first seven years of his life, and that before the third seven years have passed away the recipient of an academic educa- FRUITLESS WORK. 145 tiou, matured and educated, shall be already established in business or in society, has greatly diminished the time allotted to the work, while the amount to be done has increased. Let it be remembered that a child may sow tares during these years without becoming morally a monster. It is enouo;h if he has been allowed to sow mental tares, while his morals have received fair attention. In full view of the bearings of these things the parents must make their decision. It is too late for them to examine the workings of a given course of study after the child has gone partially through with it. The products of an established school or system of schools are always fairly before the public. Section II.— Shall we Look for Results in Knowledge, or in Mental Discipline ? In the minds of many the thing sought is, not what the pupil shall study, but how great is the discipline he obtains from these studies. And this discipline is indeed the important point, but not the only point. If it were, he might as well spend his time in one study, provided the topic were large enough. The skill to acquire further knowledge that he gains in the work of mastering this course is all-important, but he may as well also be acquiring important knowledge as he goes. There is a mode of studying, so called, that gives no appreciable discipline. In these cases the pupil is not overworke of their own country must have presented to their minds. The mother's duty of home instruction is hardly finished when the child enters school. There is necessarily much machine-work in the school- room. Tlic garment that is to fit so many minds must 18* 150 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. be cut by tlie same pattern ; and iiulividiial work is the "open sesame" in education, for these young raindd. differ in their wants. Takin;r this study of geography as an example, if the mother, before the school term opens, would look over the text-books the child is to study, ascertain how much is laid out for the term, and then gather together such accessories as the house affords, parcel them out as they apply to each division, and place them near at hand in a package which no one will disturb, they will be ready at her need. Then, instead of spending her usual twenty minutes or more in helping the child to force into his unroused memory the words of the lesson, she has her pictures in her hand, and says, "It is Siam, is it? and Farther India? Siam is where Mrs. Leonowens went with her little boy. She went as governess, to help the king in his Engli?;h, and to teach the ladies of the court. I am afraid these ladies found it as hard to get their lessons as some little children do here. This is a view of the king's palace at Bangkok. Not much like our way of building, you see. Bangkok is at the mouth of the Menam. Me- nam means ' mother of waters.' It looks quite small on your map, but it is nearly a thousand miles long. Here is the picture of a hut on the Irrawaddy. Do you see how many mouths the Irrawaddy has ? Its valley is as fertile as that of the Nile. The house is only of one story. They object to another story be- cause they think it an insult for people to walk over their heads." By this time the interest and the mem- ory are fully awake. The rivers and the capital the child can scarcely forget. The rest, we might almost say, Mould be accomplished by i\\^ physical force which COMPARATIVE VALUE OF STUDIES. 151 the roused mind has called to its aid ; for " by the ,law of nervous and mental persistence the currents of the brain will become gradually stronger and stronger" until the task is accomplished. It is wonderful how small an item of interest will sometimes so rouse the mind that the lesson to which it pertains is not onlv easily prepared for the recitation-room, but is in many cases always retained. Probably the same incident, given separately, would never have thrown any light upon the country where it occurred. Physical geog- raphy, a most important study, is often set aside for things of far less value. The grammatical use of language should be taught to the child with his mother-tongue. The laws of grammar will then be comparatively easy to him at a later day. He will take to it naturally if it is pre- sented to him in a natural way. He would never say "go-ed" for "went," when he begins to talk, if some of these laws were not firmly embedded in his mind. If he is corrected, and told to say " went," he will possibly make it " went-ed," so firmly does it seem to be impressed upon him that irregular verbs are an innovation. Rhetoric — through a good text-book, if possible — is needed for the understanding of the laws of composi- tion and of criticism. The dull machine-work of sen- tence-building can never give an idea of the laws of com})osition. This exercise belongs to grammar, but grammatical rules do not cover these laws of compo- sition, — they scarcely touch upon them. Beyond this a fair literary judgment can scarcely be formed without some knowleiliic of the laws of criti- lf,2 //o.va; and school training. (ism ; or, if" it is formed, it is l;i('c liitn in other hands. She mav have found herself too much 154 HOME AND S(J/1(J()L Ti:AL\L\oii as of nccossilv the teacher of morals and manners to her children ; but to the mode in which this teaching shall be done very little thought is usually given. When, however, it is j)lacc(l in her hands as a part of this early mental training, it becomes clear how it should be done. Side by side the lessons lie through all our lives. They may fail of their aim, but moral growth is {he finale, the crown of mental cul- ture; and, on the other hand, the moral insight that is not grounded on mental perceptions is a plant without root. The mother should be the best judge of the amount of tension her child can bear at one time, and can suit her time to those occasions when the child is best fitted to receive that which she wishes to impart. She may be a peripatetic, like Aristotle, or give in- struction, as did other Greek philosophers, in academic groves, where she can call the pleasant forces of nature and its beauties to her aid. A little girl of three years, who had a constitutional dread of storms, had the necessity of this mode of cleansing the atmosphere explained to her, and was told that, though they sometinifs did considerable harm, this result was rare as compared with mischief from other sources. After this she talked about the thunder and lightning, when she heard the storms approaching, without any signs of fear. But one night it darkened rapidly, and a violent gust of wind shook the house. Clasping her little hands together, she shook from head to foot; but, looking up the next moment to the friend at her side, she said, with a pleasant smile, " It shivers me when it comes like that." CROWDED PRIMARY SCHOOLS. 157 Section V.— Crowded Primary Schools. In whatever way the preliminary work for the child may he clone, the primary school soon forces itself upon the attention of the parents. Tlie primary public schools in our cities are almost universally overcrowded, so much so that, under any known system of ventilation, it is almost impossible to keep the air in a wholesome state. And at no time in his life is a child less able to bear this onslaught ujion his physical health than dur- ing this growing period. At this time the quality of the air breathed is a matter of more importance even than the quality of the instruction, and it is a thing which should be looked into personally by the parents. Not that the father or mother should accompany the child to school of a morning, and stand in the room for twentv minutes when the children are oatherinmpter to overwork. Tiiis "power behind the tiirone" which has been mentioned as existing in our public schools is often equalled, if not excelled, by the prestige of well-estab- lished private schools, whose standing before the public is such that their decisions will rarely be questioned. And it is either an extreme of fashion or a real excel- lence that gives such prestige to any school. Usually it is only po.sitive excellence that will hold the long- continued approval of the public. CHAPTER XI. CULTIVATION OF THE UNDEKSTANDINQ. Section I.— To What End? It is a hackneyed saying that the aim of education is to fit one for life ; but, practically, our education is sometimes planned as if this well-worn saying were not true. It means, of course, that such light as an educa- tion can give shall be thrown upon our practical daily living, not upon a theoretical or ideal life. It is said in Eno-land that a classical education is the education of a gentleman, which may be supposed to mean there that it is not an education for the common people. It CULTIVATION OF THE UNDERSTAXDING. ]65 gives, we may say, the niceties of un education, — a love of old literature, of old poetic measures, of old speeu- lations in philosophy and morality, as, for example, the assertion of Cicero that " the gladiatorial shows were the best possible schools for teaching bravery and ron- tempt of death to the youth of the country," and vari- ous other ideas equally foreign to our own. And it teaches, most of all, where it teaches anything, not a great amount of logic or power of judgment, but a marked power over language. But it does not give the " bread and brawn" of education suited to the middle and lower classes, to the mechanic or business- man. This, at least, is what we may infer from the assertion that this is the education of a gentleman. But the tradesman and the mechanic also need to be fitted for life. Without the commercial life of Eng- land, where would its nobility be? However it may be defended, no nation is sustained by a military edu- cation, or by the education of its gentlemen. And if a classical education does not fit for the life whicii sus- tains the country, why should those be called "philis- tines" who demand an education which will do this? Are they fighting against the chosen people? It looks as if they were fighting for them, — not trying to take the ark, but to preserve it, — always supposing that a classical education, which makes up so largely what is called a higher education, is fitted to a select few, and not to the masses. According to this idea, our own country, which is called a "nation of tradesmen," would have little use for a classical education. We should have to adopt from (iernianv its real s<-liof judgment. The memory is valuable mainly as an a.ssistant to the judg- ment, — it enables the student to hold clearly in his mind the points from which he is to draw his conclu- sions. Cultivated alone, it may make a learned man, who can say again deftly what wise men have said in the past, but it will never make the man who moves forward in original lines of thought. This training that is given to the memory mainly stirs the soil of the mind about as deeply as the corn-field is stirred by using a crooked stick for a plough ; but where proper discipline is given to the judgment, where the powers of the mind are brought to their highest uses, the work of education has carried out its first aim of putting us in possession of our faculties. The set of facts which we have obtained in the pursuit of any branch of knowledge may go from us ; we may cease to remem- ber many of them, or they may be superseded by new discoveries and new theories on these points; but the power of investigation, the strength of mind which has been acquired in comparing these facts, of discov- ering their bearings, their relations to each other, to ourselves, and to the universe of God, ciinnot be re- MODESTY TAUGHT BY SOUND KSOWLEDGE. 169 moved from us by a treaclierous memory, or by the discovery of new facts which controvert the old con- clusions. We can no sooner lose this strength than a fine gymnast can lose the sturdy, erect figure and vigorous muscular development which have grown up with his healthy exercise. We can thus see that the student who does not think, investigate, reflect, as he goes on, gets a very poor apology for an education. The memory is an excellent servant under the hand of his master, the judgment. Without this master he wastes the treasures committed to his care. " A little learning is a dangerous thing," says Pope. We some- times lose sight of the fact that a little edue^ation is usually looked upon by the possessor jis far more important than it really is. The unwise man, who has placed a clumsy footprint upon the outer portico of the great temple, may sup- pcse that he has possessed himself of all its treasures. He imagines that all men are as ignorant as he had been before he received his fragment of an education. In this lies the danger of a little learning. There is no such unsound theorizer, no such blind partisan, no sucii scattcrer al)road of wild and dangerous opinions, as the man who has a small smattering of knowledge and sui)poses he has the whole thing. Section III.— Sound Knowledge teaches Modesty and Self-Poise. Our early education gives us the key by which we can unlock the door of the great temple of knowledge and toil among its treasures, but it gives us only a key; and the knowledge of this fact, which wo acquire in H 15 170 HOME AND SCHOOL TRAINING. roceivii)g niiv .sound cdiicalion, is sure to iiiihue us with iiKxksty in our estimate of oui-selves. We are able to give substantial reasons for that which we believe, but we see that this is a very (lifferent thing from under- stixnding all about that which we believe. We believe that the huge tree grows from a tiny seed, but we do not understand how this is accomplished, — we cannot find the vital force by which this growth has been [)ro- pelled. W^e believe that our own will or choice con- trols the motions of our own arm or hand, but we do not comprehend how this choice acts upon the muscles. " What is all nature but a manifestation, in visible forms, of a great army of invisible forces'?" says Dr. Blackie. Indeed, that with which we have most to do, and that which concerns us most, is the invisible. From it we seek our blessings, of it we ask our ques- tions. Concerning it are the deepest search ings of the human intellect. That which propels us into conscious- ness, which maintains the organism of our daily lives, which closes our vision when we pass out of the world, is a wholly invisible power, — one of which none of the senses can take cognizance, — unknowable, we may say, and yet always there. We cannot, then, deny the in- visible, or ignore the limits of our human intelligence which lie so close at hand ; but in these perceptions we find more than ever the joy of knowing and of trust beyond our realm of knowing ; and if we have only learned enough to form some idea of the pleasant fields that stretch beyond us, we are safe from the dangers of a little learning. Self-poise and contentment are the result of this highest form of knowledge. INADEqUATE TEACHING. 171 Section IV.— Teaching that does not Reach the Under- standing. In statistics of illiteracy the boiiiKlarv-linc is placed at the mere ability to read and write. It is considered that, with these acquirements, a man can obtain farihcr knowledge if he chooses; but the manner in wiiith instruction is often given to those who stop with rcatl- ing and writing gives them little inducement to go farther. Accounts are sometimes given of the aston- ishing ignorance of those who have raised themselves thus far above the condition of illiteracy, and some- times even farther. David Stow, founder of the Glas- gow Normal School, gives the following story: "A few years ago I visited a school in one of the large towns in England. . . . On reaching the highest class, in company with the master and director, I asked the former if he ever questioned the scholars on what they read. He answered, 'No, sir; I have no time for that ; but you may if you please.' I answered that, except where personally known to the teacher, I never questioned children in any school. 'By all means do so now, if you please; but them thick-headed boys can- not understand a word, I am sure.' Being asked again to put a few questions, I proceeded : * Boys, sliow me where you are reading;' and, to do them justice, they read fluently. The subject was the story of Eli and his two sons. I caused tiie whole of them to read the first verse: 'And Eli had two sons, Ilophni and Phin- eas.' 'Now, children, close your booUs. Well, who was Eli?' No answer. This question appcand too high, requiring an exercise of thought and a knowK'tlge 172 UOMI-: AND SCHOOL TRAINING. not to be found in tlie verse read. I tliorel'ire de- scended in the scale and proceeded: 'Tell ine how many sons Eli luul.' 'Ugh?' ' Ifad Eli any sons?' 'Sir?' 'Open your books, if" you please, and read again.' Three or four read in succession, 'And Eli had two sons, Ilophni and Phineiis.' ' Now answer me, boys, How many sons had Eli?' 'Soor?' ' Who do you think Eli was? Had Eli any sons?' 'Ugh?' 'Was he a man, do you think, or a bird, or a beast? Who do you think Eli was, children?' 'Soor?' 'Look at me, children, and answer me this: If Eli had two sons, do you think his two sons had a father?' 'Soor?' 'Think, if you please, had Eli ANY sons?' No an- swer. ' A\'ell, since you cannot tell me how many sons Eli had, how many daughters had he, think you ?' 'Three, sir.' 'Where do you find that, children? Look at your Bibles. Who told you that Eli had three daughters?' 'Ugh?' The director turned on his heel, and the master said, ' Xow, sir, didn't I tell you them fellows could not understdud a wordf " This occurred, probably, within the last thirty years. The excess of stupidity shown is certainly marvellous, but we have some similar revelations nearer home. To these belongs the story of the " show-scholar," who was called up on all occasions to give the different capitals of the United States, and who, when asked by a visitor what these capitals were, decided, after some questioning, that they were animals. A recent examination, held in a different class of schools and under the best of examiners, showed a remarkable lack among the pupils in the knowledge of common things. In intelligent answers, the pupils A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY. 173 from the kindergartens were said to avt-rage higlicr than the rest. In these cases the examiners are search- ing for what the ciiildren ought to know, but very often for what they have had no opportiniity to know. Tiie pupils of the English school just described evidently had no thought that the words thoy were reading were intended to convey any ideas to their minds. Section V.— A Voyage of Discovery in Children's Minds. Some years since, a lady who had charge of a class of teachers who were preparing for work in the public schools was frequently met, in her suggestions with regard to what should be done to draw out the powers of young children, by the assertion that they did not know enough, that they could not be made to under- stand, etc. These suggestions were mainly in the direc- tion of methods of discovering thought in the minds of children, so that the teachers could work out from what they knew to what they did not know. After listening to the opinions of the class, who had most of them been teachers in the common schools, she deter- mined to see for herself how far this was correct. She had never taught in this direction, and she now went into the lower departments of the school, and selected two primary classes, which she could take under her own charge in a daily lesson. Her plan was to form them into composition classes, as the readiest means of getting at what they really knew, what they were thinkincr about. The children in one of these cla.sscs had just entered the school, and were five or six years of age. The others were a little older, — from six to ten, — and some of them could read and write fairly. 16* 174 HOME AND SCHOOL THAI NINO. Day after day pupils were selected who were to give to the teacher an account of something which they knew of their own knowledge, while she wrote out the story jast as it was given. They were to be sure that they were correct in their facts, to make clear state- ments, such as the other children could understand, saying in each sentence just what they meant to say, and to finish any point they commenced unless other- wise directed. Taking tiieni in this way, with the privilege of bringing out their individual observations, she was not only not surprised at their stupidity, but had reason to wonder at the correctness of their ob- servations, as well as at the clear manner in which they were stated. The classes were allowed to criticise the statements made and the language used, and if the facts were in any way confused, or the sentence incor- rect, the little hands came up and the tiling was set right at once. The child was allowed to use its own judgment in accepting or rejecting the criticism of the class in regard to the formation of the sentence. It was always written in the form given. It was singular to hear from the lips of a little child the foundation of some long-established rhetorical rule given as a reason for some criticism, and the teacher was strengthened in the opinion that the principles of good taste have a deep foundation in the human mind. Some of the class were remarkable for their readiness in illustration. When the power of direct expression seemed lacking, a quick and sometimes amusing illus- tration would make the whole thing clear. There was at times a disposition to mix fact and fancy, but tliey were held strictly to their task of dealing oulv with A VOYAGE OF DISCOVER}'. 175 actual facts by the criticisms of the class. One day a little girl spoke of a spring flowing over a " mossy bed." "The bed was covered with moss, was it?" said the teacher, knowing something of the nature of the springs in that vicinity. The child rubbed her hands, one over another, without making any reply. " Where was the spring?" asked the teacher. "I don't believe there was any moss there," said the child, looking up. " What was it, then ?" " There was grass at the sides." " What made you think it was moss?" The child hesi- tated. " She got it out of a book," murmured the master-critic of the class. " What kind of a bed had the spring?" Silence. "Was it pebbly?" "No, ma'am ; it was just dirt." " Muddy, then ? Siiall I say muddy?" "No, ma'am." "Why not?" There was no reply, and our master-critic can\e forward once more. "'Tisu't nice," he said, "and she is talking about things that are nice." " Then, if the bed of the spring was muddy?" "I wouldn't say anything about it." After a time those who could write began to i)ring in private efforts of their own, which were sometimes read, and, after some solicitation, they were permitted to write something which they had drawn from their imagina- tion, provided it was wholly of this kind. They were not to mix fact and fancy, the aim being to teach them to keep these things entirely separate in their minds, .S0 IIOMK A AD SCHOOL TRAINING. ample more and nioiH', — not in their conclusions, but in their mode of study. It is the mode of study aeniau. His favorite saddle-horse was a high-sj)iritt'tl animal, which he had himself broken in after several others had pronounced him incorrigible." But this tine nature was not all that contributed to make uj) the strong and useful man. When he was less than three years old, his father removed to his estate of Middlebie, and commenced laying out gi'uunds and erecting a mansion, etc. " He was his own land- scape-gardener, architect, and builder. The construc- tion of the ' great house' was to James a source of continued delight. Not a lock was set, not a bell was hung, but he was ready with the importunate demand, 'Show me how it doos,' or, ' What's "the go" o' that?' No vague or general answer satisfied him ; ' but,' he would persist, 'what's the " particular go" of it?'" Was the brain of this three-year-old child injured by these object-lessons in mechanics? Later we find him "drawing patterns for his aunt, and assorting and matching colors for her work, cultivating that sense of form which made hiui the first geometrician of his class, and that fine appreciation of color which ho afterward showed in his optical researches, particu- larly on the sul)ject of color-blindness." Why was this boy at home "drawing patterns for his aunt"*.' How came it that he was not gaining physical strength by "drawing patterns" of mischief out of doors, like other boys of his acquaintance ? How, unless there was a family habit of showing to children the " par- ticular go" of things, which had preserved in them a strain of strength and talent through these two Imn- dred years, and which made home the most delightful 184 llOMI'l AND SCUOUL TllMNIS'G. place in which they could hunt down the knowle