"As the snake, when he casts his skin, leaves the slough behind him, and winds on his way in new and beautiful colours."

The moment this sentence was read, it was objected to by the audience. Mr. —— objected to the word slough, as an ill sounding, disagreeable word, and which conveyed at first to the eye the idea of a wet boggy place; such as the slough of Despond. At last S——, who had been pondering over the affair in silence, exclaimed, "But I think there's another fault in the allusion; do not snakes cast their skins every year? Then these new and beautiful colours, which are the good habits, must be thrown aside and forgotten the next time; but that should not be."

This criticism appeared conclusive even to the author, and the sentence was immediately expunged.

When young people have acquired a command of language, we must be careful lest their fluency and their ready use of synonymous expressions should lessen the accuracy of their reasoning, Mr. Horne Tooke has ably shown the connection between the study of language and the art of reasoning. It is not necessary to make our pupils profound grammarians, or etymologists, but attention to the origin, abbreviations, and various meanings of words, will assist them not only to speak, but to think and argue with precision. This is not a study of abstract speculation, but of practical, daily utility; half the disputes, and much of the misery of the world, originate and perpetuate themselves by the inaccurate use of words. One party uses a word in this sense, the opposite party uses the same word in another sense; all their reasonings appear absurd to each other; and, instead of explaining them, they quarrel. This is not the case merely in philosophical disputes between authors, but it happens continually in the busy, active scenes of life. Even whilst we were writing this passage, in the newspaper of to-day, we met with an instance that is sufficiently striking.

"The accusation against me," says Sir Sidney Smith, in his excellent letter to Pichegru, expostulating upon his unmerited confinement, "brought forward by your justice of the peace, was, that I was the enemy of the republic. You know, general, that with military men, the word enemy has merely a technical signification, without expressing the least character of hatred. You will readily admit this principle, the result of which is, that I ought not to be persecuted for the injury I have been enabled to do whilst I carried arms against you."

Here the argument between two generals, one of whom is pleading for his liberty, if not for his life, turns upon the meaning and construction of a single word. Accuracy of reasoning, and some knowledge of language, may, it appears, be of essential service in all professions.

It is not only necessary to attend to the exact meaning which is avowedly affixed to any terms used in argument, but is also useful to attend to the thoughts which are often suggested to the disputants by certain words. Thus, the words happiness and beauty, suggest, in conversation, very different ideas to different men; and in arguing, concerning these, they could never come to a conclusion. Even persons who agree in the same definition of a word, frequently do not sufficiently attend to the ideas which the word suggests; to the association of thoughts and emotions which it excites; and, consequently, they cannot strictly abide by their own definition, nor can they discover where the errour lies. We have observed,[93] that the imagination is powerfully affected by words that suggest long trains of ideas; our reasonings are influenced in the same manner, and the elliptical figures of speech are used in reasoning as well as in poetry.

"I would do so and so, if I were Alexander."

"And so would I, if I were Parmenio;"

is a short reply, which suggests a number of ideas, and a train of reasoning. To those who cannot supply the intermediate ideas, the answer would not appear either sublime or rational. Young people, when they appear to admire any compressed reasoning, should be encouraged to show that they can supply the thoughts and reasons that are not expressed. Vivacious children, will be disgusted, however, if they are required to detail upon the subject;[94] all that is necessary, is to be sure that they actually comprehend what they admire.

Sometimes a question that appears simple, involves the consideration of others which are difficult. Whenever a preceptor cannot go to the bottom of the business, he will do wisely to say so at once to his pupil, instead of attempting a superficial or evasive reply. For instance, if a child was to hear that the Dutch burn and destroy quantities of spice, the produce of their India islands, he would probably express some surprise, and perhaps some indignation. If a preceptor were to say, "The Dutch have a right to do what they please with what is their own, and the spice is their own," his pupil would not yet be satisfied; he would probably say, "Yes, they have a right to do what they please with what is their own; but why should they destroy what is useful?" The preceptor might answer, if he chose to make a foolish answer, "The Dutch follow their own interest in burning the spice; they sell what remains at a higher price; the market would be overstocked if they did not burn some of their spice." Even supposing the child to understand the terms, this would not be a satisfactory answer; nor could a satisfactory answer be given, without discussing the nature of commerce, and the justice of monopolies. Where one question in this manner involves another, we should postpone the discussion, if it cannot be completely made; the road may be just pointed out, and the pupil's curiosity may be excited to future inquiry. It is even better to be ignorant, than to have superficial knowledge.

A philosopher, who himself excelled in accuracy of reasoning, recommends the study of mathematics, to improve the acuteness and precision of the reasoning faculty.[95] To study any thing accurately, will have an excellent effect upon the mind; and we may afterwards direct the judgment to whatever purposes we please. It has often been remarked, as a reproach upon men of science and literature, that those who judge extremely well of books, and of abstract philosophical questions, do not show the same judgment in the active business of life: a man, undoubtedly, may be a good mathematician, a good critic, an excellent writer, and may yet not show, or rather not employ, much judgment in his conduct: his powers of reasoning cannot be deficient; the habit of employing those powers in conducting himself, he should have been taught by early education. Moral reasoning, and the habit of acting in consequence of the conviction of the judgment, we call prudence; a virtue of so much consequence to all the other virtues; a virtue of so much consequence to ourselves and to our friends, that it surely merits a whole chapter to itself in Practical Education.

FOOTNOTES:

[85] V. Chapter on Attention.

[86] V. Tasks.

[87] Chapter on Acquaintance.

[88] V. Stewart.

[89] A Naturalist's Calendar, by the late Rev. Gilbert White, M. A. published by Dr. Aikin, printed for B. and J. White, Fleet Street.

[90] V. Deinology; where there are many entertaining examples of the figures of rhetoric.

[91] Une demonstration est donc une suite de propositions, ou les memes idees passant de l'une a l'autre, ne different que parce qu'elles sont enoncees differement; et l'evidence d'un raisonnement consiste uniquement dans l'identite. V. Art de Raisonner, p. 2.

[92] V. Chapter on Books.

[93] V. Chapter on Imagination.

[94] V. Attention.

[95] Locke. Essay on the Conduct of the Human Understanding.



CHAPTER XXIV.

ON PRUDENCE AND ECONOMY.

Voltaire says, that the king of Prussia always wrote with one kind of enthusiasm, and acted with another. It often happens, that men judge with one degree of understanding, and conduct themselves with another;[96] hence the common-place remarks on the difference between theory and practice; hence the observation, that it is easy to be prudent for other people, but extremely difficult to be prudent for ourselves. Prudence is a virtue compounded of judgment and resolution: we do not here speak of that narrow species of prudence, which is more properly called worldly wisdom; but we mean that enlarged, comprehensive wisdom, which, after taking a calm view of the objects of happiness, steadily prefers the greatest portion of felicity. This is not a selfish virtue; for, according to our definition, benevolence, as one of the greatest sources of our pleasures, must be included in the truly prudent man's estimate. Two things are necessary to make any person prudent, the power to judge, and the habit of acting in consequence of his conviction. We have, in the preceding chapter, as far as we were able, suggested the best methods of cultivating the powers of reasoning in our pupils; we must consider now how these can be applied immediately to their conduct, and associated with habits of action.

Instead of deciding always for our young pupils, we should early accustom them to choose for themselves about every trifle which is interesting to childhood: if they choose wisely, they should enjoy the natural reward of their prudence; and if they decide rashly, they should be suffered to feel the consequence of their own errour. Experience, it is said, makes even fools wise; and the sooner we can give experience, the sooner we shall teach wisdom. But we must not substitute belief upon trust for belief upon conviction. When a little boy says, "I did not eat any more custard, because mamma told me that the custard would make me sick," he is only obedient, he is not prudent; he submits to his mother's judgment, he does not use his own. When obedience is out of the question, children sometimes follow the opinions of others; of this we formerly gave an instance (v. Toys) in the poor boy, who chose a gilt coach, because his mamma "and every body said it was the prettiest," whilst he really preferred the useful cart: we should never prejudice them either by our wisdom or our folly.

A sensible little boy of four years old had seen somebody telling fortunes in the grounds of coffee; but when he had a cup of coffee given to him, he drank it all, saying, "Coffee is better than fortune!"

When their attention is not turned to divine what the spectators think and feel, children will have leisure to consult their own minds, and to compare their own feelings. As this has been already spoken of,[97] we shall not dwell upon it; we only mention it as a necessary precaution in teaching prudence.

Some parents may perhaps fear, that, if they were to allow children to choose upon every trifling occasion for themselves, they would become wilful and troublesome: this certainly will be the effect, if we make them think that there is a pleasure in the exercise of free-will, independently of any good that may be obtained by judicious choice. "Now, my dear, you shall have your choice! You shall choose for yourself! You shall have your free choice!" are expressions that may be pronounced in such a tone, and with such an emphasis to a child, as immediately to excite a species of triumphant ecstasy from the mere idea of having his own free choice. By a different accent and emphasis we may repress the ideas of triumph, and, without intimidating the pupil, we may turn his mind to the difficulties, rather than the glory of being in a situation to decide for himself.

We must not be surprised at the early imprudence of children; their mistakes, when they first are allowed to make a choice, are inevitable; all their sensations are new to them, consequently they cannot judge of what they shall like or dislike. If some of Lord Macartney's suite had, on his return from the late embassy to China, brought home some plant whose smell was perfectly unknown to Europeans, would it have been possible for the greatest philosopher in England to have decided, if he had been asked, whether he should like the unknown perfume? Children, for the first five or six years of their lives, are in the situation of this philosopher, relatively to external objects. We should never reproachfully say to a child, "You asked to smell such a thing; you asked to see such a thing; and now you have had your wish, you don't like them!" How can the child possibly judge of what he shall like or dislike, before he has tried? Let him try experiments upon his own feelings; the more accurate knowledge he acquires, the sooner he will be enabled to choose prudently. You may expedite his progress by exciting him to compare each new sensation with those to which he is already familiarized; this will counteract that love of novelty which is often found dangerous to prudence; if the mind is employed in comparing, it cannot be dazzled by new objects.

Children often imagine, that what they like for the present minute, they shall continue to like for ever; they have not learnt from experiment, that the most agreeable sensations fatigue, if they are prolonged or frequently repeated; they have not learnt, that all violent stimuli are followed by weariness or ennui. The sensible preceptor will not insist upon his pupil's knowing these things by inspiration, nor will he expect that his assertions or prophecies should be implicitly believed; he will wait till the child feels, and at that moment he will excite his pupil to observe his own feelings. "You thought that you should never be tired of smelling that rose, or of looking at that picture; now you perceive that you are tired: remember this; it may be of use to you another time." If this be said in a friendly manner, it will not pique the child to defend his past choice, but it will direct his future judgment.

Young people are often reproached for their imprudence in preferring a small present pleasure to a large distant advantage: this errour also arises from inexperience, not from want of judgment, or deficiency in strength of mind. When that which has been the future, has in its turn become present, children begin to have some idea of the nature of time, and they can then form some comparisons between the value of present and future pleasures. This is a very slow process; old people calculate and depend upon the distant future more than the young, not always from their increased wisdom or prudence, but merely from their increased experience, and consequent belief that the future will in time arrive. It is imprudent in old people to depend upon the future; if they were to reason upon the chance of their lives, they ought not to be secure of its arrival; yet habit in this instance, as in many others, is more powerful than reason: in all the plans of elderly people, there is seldom any errour from impatience as to the future; there often appear gross errours in their security as to its arrival. If these opposite habits could be mixed in the minds of the old and of the young, it would be for their mutual advantage.

It is not possible to infuse experience into the mind; our pupils must feel for themselves: but, by teaching them to observe their own feelings, we may abridge their labour; a few lessons will teach a great deal when they are properly applied. To teach children to calculate and compare their present and future pleasures, we may begin by fixing short intervals of time for our experiments; an hour, a day, a week, perhaps, are periods of time to which their imagination will easily extend; they can measure and compare their feelings within these spaces of time, and we may lead them to observe their own errours in not providing for the future. "Now Friday is come; last Monday you thought Friday would never come. If you had not cut away all your pencil last week, you would have had some left to draw with to-day. Another time you will manage better."

We should also lead them to compare their ideas of any given pleasure, before and after the period of its arrival. "You thought last summer that you should like making snow balls in winter, better than making hay in summer. Now you have made snow-balls to-day; and you remember what you felt when you were making hay last summer; do you like the snow-ball pleasure, or the hay-making pleasure the best?" V. Berquin's Quatre saisons.

If our pupils, when they have any choice to make, prefer a small present gratification to a great future pleasure, we should not, at the moment of their decision, reproach their imprudence, but we should steadily make them abide by their choice; and when the time arrives at which the greater pleasure might have been enjoyed, we should remark the circumstance, but not with a tone of reproach, for it is their affair, not ours. "You preferred having a sheet of paper the moment you wanted it last week, to the having a quire of paper this week." "Oh, but," says the child, "I wanted a sheet of paper very much then, but I did not consider how soon this week would come—I wish I had chosen the quire." "Then remember what you feel now, and you will be able to choose better upon another occasion." We should always refer to the pupils' own feelings, and look forward to their future advantage. The reason why so few young people attend to advice, is, that their preceptors do not bring it actually home to their feelings: it is useless to reproach for past imprudence; the child sees the errour as plainly as we do; all that can be done, is to make it a lesson for the future.

To a geometrician, the words by proposition 1st. stand for a whole demonstration: if he recollects that he has once gone over the demonstration, he is satisfied of its truth; and, without verifying it again, he makes use of it in making out the demonstration of a new proposition. In moral reasoning, we proceed in the same manner; we recollect the result of our past experiments, and we refer to this moral demonstration in solving a new problem. In time, by frequent practice, this operation is performed so rapidly by the mind, that we scarcely perceive it, and yet it guides our actions. A man, in walking across the room, keeps out of the way of the tables and chairs, without perceiving that he reasons about the matter; a sober man avoids hard drinking, because he knows it to be hurtful to his health; but he does not, every time he refuses to drink, go over the whole train of reasoning which first decided his determination. A modern philosopher,[98] calls this rapid species of reasoning "intuitive analogy;" applied to the business of life, the French call it tact. Sensible people have this tact in higher perfection than others; and prudent people govern themselves by it more regularly than others. By the methods which we have recommended, we hope it may be successfully cultivated in early education.

Rousseau, in expressing his contempt for those who make habit their only guide of action, goes, as he is apt to do in the heat of declamation, into the errour opposite to that which he ridicules. "The only habit," cries he, "that I wish my Emilius to have, is the habit of having no habits." Emilius would have been a strange being, had he literally accomplished his preceptor's wish. To go up stairs, would have been a most operose, and to go down stairs, a most tremendous, affair to Emilius, for he was to have no habits: between every step of the stairs, new deliberations must take place, and fresh decisions of the judgment and will ensue. In his moral judgments, Emilius would have had as much useless labour. Habit surely is necessary, even to those who make reason the ultimate judge of their affairs. Reason is not to be appealed to upon every trivial occasion, to rejudge the same cause a million of times. Must a man, every time he draws a straight line, repeat to himself, "a right line is that which lieth evenly between its points?" Must he rehearse the propositions of Euclid, instead of availing himself of their practical use?

"Christian, can'st thou raise a perpendicular upon a straight line?" is the apostrophe with which the cross-legged emperor of Barbary, seated on his throne of rough deal boards, accosts every learned stranger who frequents his court. In the course of his reign, probably, his Barbaric majesty may have reiterated the demonstration of this favourite proposition, which he learned from a French surgeon about five hundred times; but his majesty's understanding is not materially improved by these recitals; his geometrical learning is confined, we are told, to this single proposition.

It would have been scarcely worth while to have singled out for combat this paradox of Rousseau's, concerning habit, if it had not presented itself in the formidable form of an antithesis. A false maxim, conveyed in an antithesis, is dangerous, because it is easily remembered and repeated, and it quickly passes current in conversation.

But to return to our subject, of which we have imprudently lost sight. Imprudence does not always arise from our neglect of our past experience, or from our forgetting to take the future into our calculations, but from false associations, or from passion. Objects often appear different to one man, from what they do to the rest of the world: this man may reason well upon what the majority of reasonable people agree to call false appearances; he may follow strictly the conviction of his own understanding, and yet the world will say that he acts very imprudently. To the taste or smell of those who are in a fever, objects not only appear, but really are, to the patients different from what they appear to persons in sound health: in the same manner to the imagination, objects have really a different value in moments of enthusiasm, from what they have in our cooler hours, and we scarcely can believe that our view of objects will ever vary. It is in vain to oppose reason to false associations; we must endeavour to combat one set of associations by another, and to alter the situation, and consequently, the views,[99] of the mistaken person. Suppose, for instance, that a child had been in a coach and six upon some pleasant excursion (it is an improbable thing, but we may suppose any thing:) suppose a child had enjoyed, from some accidental circumstances, an extraordinary degree of pleasure in a coach and six, he might afterwards long to be in a similar vehicle, from a mistaken notion, that it could confer happiness. Here we should not oppose the force of reasoning to a false association, but we should counteract the former association. Give the child an equal quantity of amusement when he is not in a coach and six, and then he will form fresh pleasurable associations with other objects which may balance his first prepossession. If you oppose reason ineffectually to passion or taste, you bring the voice and power of reason into discredit with your pupil. When you have changed his view of things, you may then reason with him, and show him the cause of his former mistake.

In the excellent fable of the shield that was gold on one side and silver on the other, the two disputants never could have agreed until they changed places.—When you have, in several instances, proved by experiment, that you judge more prudently than your pupil, he will be strongly inclined to listen to your counsels, and then your experience will be of real use to him; he will argue from it with safety and satisfaction. When, after recovering from fits of passion or enthusiasm, you have, upon several occasions, convinced him that your admonitions would have prevented him from the pain of repentance, he will recollect this when he again feels the first rise of passion in his mind; and he may, in that lucid moment, avail himself of your calm reason, and thus avoid the excesses of extravagant passions. That unfortunate French monarch,[100] who was liable to temporary fits of frenzy, learned to foresee his approaching malady, and often requested his friends to disarm him, lest he should injure any of his attendants.

In a malady which precludes the use of reason, it was possible for this humane patient to foresee the probable mischief he might do to his fellow-creatures, and to take prudent measures against his own violence; and may not we expect, that those who are early accustomed to attend to their own feelings, may prepare against the extravagance of their own passions, and avail themselves of the regulating advice of their temperate friends?

In the education of girls, we must teach them much more caution than is necessary to boys: their prudence must be more the result of reasoning than of experiment; they must trust to the experience of others; they cannot always have recourse to what ought to be; they must adapt themselves to what is. They cannot rectify the material mistakes in their conduct,[101] Timidity, a certain tardiness of decision, and reluctance to act in public situations, are not considered as defects in a woman's character: her pausing prudence does not, to a man of discernment, denote imbecility; but appears to him the graceful, auspicious characteristic of female virtue. There is always more probability that women should endanger their own happiness by precipitation, than by forbearance.—Promptitude of choice, is seldom expected from the female sex; they should avail themselves of the leisure that is permitted to them for reflection. "Begin nothing of which you have not well considered the end," was the piece of advice for which the Eastern Sultan[102] paid a purse of gold, the price set upon it by a sage. The monarch did not repent of his purchase. This maxim should be engraved upon the memory of our female pupils, by the repeated lessons of education. We should, even in trifles, avoid every circumstance which can tend to make girls venturesome; which can encourage them to trust their good fortune, instead of relying on their own prudence. Marmontel's tale, entitled "Heureusement," is a witty, but surely not a moral, tale. Girls should be discouraged from hazarding opinions in general conversation; but amongst their friends, they should be excited to reason with accuracy and with temper.[103] It is really a part of a woman's prudence to have command of temper; if she has it not, her wit and sense will not have their just value in domestic life. Calphurnia, a Roman lady, used to plead her own causes before the senate, and we are informed, that she became "so troublesome and confident, that the judges decreed that thenceforward no woman should be suffered to plead." Did not this lady make an imprudent use of her talents?

In the choice of friends, and on all matters of taste, young women should be excited to reason about their own feelings. "There is no reasoning about taste," is a pernicious maxim: if there were more reasoning, there would be less disputation upon this subject. If women questioned their own minds, or allowed their friends to question them, concerning the reasons of their "preferences and aversions," there would not, probably, be so many love matches, and so few love marriages. It is in vain to expect, that young women should begin to reason miraculously at the very moment that reason is wanted in the guidance of their conduct. We should also observe, that women are called upon for the exertion of their prudence at an age when young men are scarcely supposed to possess that virtue; therefore, women should be more early, and more carefully, educated for the purpose. The important decisions of woman's life, are often made before she is twenty: a man does not come upon the theatre of public life, where most of his prudence is shown, till he is much older.

Economy is, in women, an essential domestic virtue. Some women have a foolish love of expensive baubles; a taste which a very little care, probably, in their early education, might have prevented. We are told, that when a collection of three hundred and fifty pounds was made for the celebrated Cuzzona, to save her from absolute want, she immediately laid out two hundred pounds of the money in the purchase of a shell cap, which was then in fashion.[104] Prudent mothers, will avoid showing any admiration of pretty trinkets before their young daughters; and they will oppose the ideas of utility and durability to the mere caprice of fashion, which creates a taste for beauty, as it were, by proclamation. "Such a thing is pretty, but it is of no use. Such a thing is pretty, but it will soon wear out"—a mother may say; and she should prove the truth of her assertions to her pupils.

Economy is usually confined to the management of money, but it may be shown on many other occasions: economy may be exercised in taking care of whatever belongs to us; children should have the care of their own clothes, and if they are negligent of what is in their charge, this negligence should not be repaired by servants or friends, they should feel the real natural consequences of their own neglect, but no other punishment should be inflicted; and they should be left to make their own reflections upon their errours and misfortunes, undisturbed by the reproaches of their friends, or by the prosing moral of a governess or preceptor. We recommend, for we must descend to these trifles, that girls should be supplied with an independent stock of all the little things which are in daily use; housewives, and pocket books well stored with useful implements; and there should be no lending[105] and borrowing amongst children. It will be but just to provide our pupils with convenient places for the preservation and arrangement of their little goods. Order is necessary to economy; and we cannot more certainly create a taste for order, than by showing early its advantages in practice as well as in theory. The aversion to old things, should, if possible, be prevented in children: we should not express contempt for old things, but we should treat them with increased reverence, and exult in their having arrived under our protection to such a creditable age. "I have had such a hat so long, therefore it does not signify what becomes of it!" is the speech of a promising little spendthrift. "I have taken care of my hat, it has lasted so long; and I hope I shall make it last longer," is the exultation of a young economist, in which his prudent friends should sympathize.

"Waste not, want not," is an excellent motto in an English nobleman's kitchen.[106] The most opulent parents ought not to be ashamed to adopt it in the economic education of their children: early habits of care, and an early aversion and contempt for the selfish spirit of wasteful extravagance, may preserve the fortunes, and, what is of far more importance, the integrity and peace of mind of noble families.

We have said, that economy cannot be exercised without children's having the management of money. Whilst our pupils are young, if they are educated at home, they cannot have much real occasion for money; all the necessaries of life are provided for them; and if they have money to spend, it must be probably laid out on superfluities. This is a bad beginning. Money should be represented to our pupils as what it really is, the conventional sign of the value of commodities: before children are acquainted with the real and comparative value of any of these commodities, it is surely imprudent to trust them with money. As to the idea that children may be charitable and generous in the disposal of money, we have expressed our sentiments fully upon this subject already.[107] We are, however, sensible that when children are sent to any school, it is advisable to supply them with pocket-money enough to put them upon an equal footing with their companions; otherwise, we might run the hazard of inducing worse faults than extravagance—meanness, or envy.

Young people who are educated at home should, as much as possible, be educated to take a family interest in all the domestic expenses. Parental reserve in money matters is extremely impolitic; as Mr. Locke judiciously observes, that a father, who wraps his affairs up in mystery, and who "views his son with jealous eyes," as a person who is to begin to live when he dies, must make him an enemy by treating him as such. A frank simplicity and cordial dependence upon the integrity and upon the sympathy of their children, will ensure to parents their disinterested friendship. Ignorance is always more to be dreaded than knowledge. Young people, who are absolutely ignorant of affairs, who have no idea of the relative expense of different modes of living, and of the various wants of a family, are apt to be extremely unreasonable in the imaginary disposal of their parent's fortune; they confine their view merely to their own expenses. "I only spend such a sum," they say, "and surely that is nothing to my father's income." They consider only the absolute amount of what they spend; they cannot compare it with the number of other expenses which are necessary for the rest of the family: they do not know these, therefore they cannot perceive the proportion which it is reasonable that their expenditure should bear to the whole. Mrs. D'Arblay, in one of her excellent novels, has given a striking picture of the ignorance in which young women sometimes leave their father's house, and begin to manage in life for themselves, without knowing any thing of the powers of money. Camilla's imprudence must chiefly be ascribed to her ignorance. Young women should be accustomed to keep the family accounts, and their arithmetic should not be merely a speculative science; they should learn the price of all necessaries, and of all luxuries; they should learn what luxuries are suited to their fortune and rank, what degree of expense in dress is essential to a regularly neat appearance, and what must be the increased expense and temptations of fashion in different situations; they should not be suffered to imagine that they can resist these temptations more than others, if they get into company above their rank, nor should they have any indistinct idea, that by some wonderful economical operations they can make a given sum of money go further than others can do. The steadiness of calculation will prevent all these vain notions; and young women, when they see in stubborn figures what must be the consequence of getting into situations where they must be tempted to exceed their means, will probably begin by avoiding, instead of braving, the danger.

Most parents think that their sons are more disposed to extravagance than their daughters; the sons are usually exposed to greater temptations. Young men excite one another to expense, and to a certain carelessness of economy, which assumes the name of spirit, while it often forfeits all pretensions to justice. A prudent father will never, from any false notions of forming his son early to good company, introduce him to associates whose only merit is their rank or their fortune. Such companions will lead a weak young man into every species of extravagance, and then desert and ridicule him in the hour of distress. If a young man has a taste for literature, and for rational society, his economy will be secured, simply because his pleasures will not be expensive, nor will they be dependent upon the caprice of fashionable associates. The intermediate state between that of a school-boy and a man, is the dangerous period in which taste for expense is often acquired, before the means of gratifying it are obtained. Boys listen with anxiety to the conversation of those who are a few years older than themselves. From this conversation they gather information respecting the ways of the world, which, though often erroneous, they tenaciously believe to be accurate: it is in vain that their older friends may assure them that such and such frivolous expenses are not necessary to the well-being of a man in society; they adhere to the opinion of the younger counsel; they conclude that every thing has changed since their parents were young, that they must not govern themselves by antiquated notions, but by the scheme of economy which happens to be the fashion of the day. During this boyish state, parents should be particularly attentive to the company which their sons keep; and they should frequently in conversation with sensible, but not with morose or old fashioned people, lead to the subject of economy, and openly discuss and settle the most essential points. At the same time a father should not intimidate his son with the idea that nothing but rigid economy can win his parental favour; his parental favour should not be a mercenary object; he should rather show his son, that he is aware of the great temptations to which a young man is exposed in going first into the world: he should show him, both that he is disposed to place confidence in him, and that he yet knows the fallibility of youthful prudence. If he expect from his son unerring prudence, he expects too much, and he will, perhaps, create an apprehension of his displeasure, which may chill and repress all ingenuous confidence. In all his childish, and in all his youthful distresses, a son should be habitually inclined to turn to his father as to his most indulgent friend. "Apply to me if ever you get into any difficulties, and you will always find me your most indulgent friend," were the words of a father to a child of twelve years old, pronounced with such encouraging benevolence, that they were never forgotten by the person to whom they were addressed.

Before a young man goes into the world, it will be a great advantage to him to have some share in the management of his father's affairs; by laying out money for another person, he will acquire habits of care, which will be useful to him afterwards in his own affairs. A father, who is building, or improving grounds, who is carrying on works of any sort, can easily allot some portion of the business to his son, as an exercise for his judgment and prudence. He should hear and see the estimates of workmen, and he should, as soon as he has collected the necessary facts, form estimates of his own, before he hears the calculation of others: this power of estimating will be of great advantage to gentlemen: it will circumscribe their wishes, and it will protect them against the low frauds of designing workmen.

It may seem trivial, but we cannot forbear to advise young people to read the news-papers of the day regularly: they will keep up by these means with the current of affairs, and they will exercise their judgment upon interesting business, and large objects. The sooner boys acquire the sort of knowledge necessary for the conversation of sensible men, the better; they will be the less exposed to feel false shame. False shame, the constant attendant upon ignorance, often leads young men into imprudent expenses; when, upon any occasion, they do not know by any certain calculation to what any expense may amount, they are ashamed to inquire minutely. From another sort of weakness, they are ashamed to resist the example or importunity of numbers; against this weakness, the strong desire of preserving the good opinion of estimable friends, is the best preservative. The taste for the esteem of superior characters, cures the mind of fondness for vulgar applause.

We have, in the very first chapter of this book, spoken of the danger of the passion for gaming, and the precautions that we have recommended in early education will, it is hoped, prevent the disorder from appearing in our pupils as they grow up. Occupations for the understanding, and objects for the affections, will preclude all desire for the violent stimulus of the gaming table. It may be said, that many men of superior abilities, and of generous social tempers, become gamesters. They do so, because they have exhausted other pleasures, and they have been accustomed to strong excitements. Such excitements do not become necessary to happiness, till they have been made habitual.

There was an excellent Essay on Projects, published some years ago by an anonymous writer, which we think would make a great impression upon any young persons of good sense. We do not wish to repress the generous enterprising ardour of youth, or to confine the ideas to the narrow circle of which self must be the centre. Calculation will show what can be done, and how it can be done; and thus the individual, without injury to himself, may, if he wish it, speculate extensively for the good of his fellow creatures.

It is scarcely possible, that the mean passion of avarice should exist in the mind of any young person who has been tolerably well educated; but too much pains cannot be taken to preserve that domestic felicity, which arises from entire confidence and satisfaction amongst the individuals of a family with regard to property. Exactness in accounts and in business relative to property, far from being unnecessary amongst friends and relations, are, we think, peculiarly agreeable, and essential to the continuance of frank intimacy. We should, whilst our pupils are young, teach them a love for exactness about property; a respect for the rights of others, rather than a tenacious anxiety about their own. When young people are of a proper age to manage money and property of their own, let them know precisely what they can annually spend; in whatever form they receive an income, let that income be certain: if presents of pocket money or of dress are from time to time made to them, this creates expectation and uncertainty in their minds. All persons who have a fluctuating revenue, are disposed to be imprudent and extravagant. It is remarkable, that the West-Indian planters, whose property is a kind of lottery, are extravagantly disposed to speculation; in the hopes of a favourable season, they live from year to year in unbounded profusion. It is curious to observe, that the propensity to extravagance exists in those who enjoy the greatest affluence, and in those who have felt the greatest distress. Those who have little to lose, are reckless about that little; and any uncertainty as to the tenure of property, or as to the rewards of industry, immediately operates, not only to depress activity, but to destroy prudence. "Prudence," says Mr. Edwards, "is a term that has no place in the negro vocabulary; instead of trusting to what are called the ground provisions, which are safe from the hurricanes, the negroes, in the cultivation of their own lands, trust more to plantain-groves, corn, and other vegetables that are liable to be destroyed by storms. When they earn a little money, they immediately gratify their palate with salted meats and other provisions, which are to them delicacies. The idea of accumulating, and of being economic in order to accumulate, is unknown to these poor slaves, who hold their lands by the most uncertain of all tenures,"[108] We are told, that the provision ground, the creation of the negro's industry, and the hope of his life, is sold by public auction to pay his master's debts. Is it wonderful that the term prudence should be unknown in the negro vocabulary?

The very poorest class of people in London, who feel despair, and who merely live to bear the evil of the day, are, it is said, very little disposed to be prudent. In a late publication, Mr. Colquhoun's "Treatise on the Police of the Metropolis," he tells us, that the "chief consumption of oysters, crabs, lobsters, pickled salmon, &c. when first in season, and when the prices are high, is by the lowest classes of the people. The middle ranks, and those immediately under them, abstain generally from such indulgences until the prices are moderate."[109]

Perhaps it may be thought, that the consumption of oysters, crabs, and pickled salmon, in London, or the management of the negro's provision ground in Jamaica, has little to do with a practical essay upon economy and prudence; but we hope, that we may be permitted to use these far fetched illustrations, to show that the same causes act upon the mind independently of climate: they are mentioned here to show, that the little revenue of young people ought to be fixed and certain.

When we recommend economy and prudence to our pupils, we must, at the same time, keep their hearts open to the pleasures of generosity; economy and prudence will put it in the power of the generous to give.

"The worth of everything Is as much money as 'twill bring,"

will never be the venal maxim of those who understand the nature of philosophic prudence. The worth of money is to be estimated by the number of real pleasures which it can procure: there are many which are not to be bought by gold;[110] these will never lose their pre-eminent value with persons who have been educated both to reason and to feel.

FOOTNOTES:

[96]

Here lies the mutton eating king; Whose promise none relied on; Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one.

Epitaph on Charles 2d.



[97] V. Taste and Imagination.

[98] Darwin's Zoonomia.

[99] Chapter on Imagination.

[100] Charles VI.

[101]

"No penance can absolve their guilty fame, Nor tears, that wash out sin, can wash out shame."



[102] V. Persian Tales.

[103] V. Chapter on Temper.

[104] Mrs. Piozzi's English Synonymy, vol. i. p. 359.

[105] V. Toys.

[106] Lord Scarsdale's. Keddleston.

[107] V. Chapter on Sympathy and Sensibility.

[108] V. Edwards' History of the West Indies.

[109] V. a note in page 32 of the Treatise on the Police of the Metropolis.



CHAPTER XXV.

SUMMARY.

"The general principle," that we should associate pleasure with whatever we wish that our pupils should pursue, and pain with whatever we wish that they should avoid, forms, our readers will perceive, the basis of our plan of education. This maxim, applied to the cultivation of the understanding, or of the affections, will, we apprehend, be equally successful; virtues, as well as abilities, or what is popularly called genius, we believe to be the result of education, not the gift of nature. A fond mother will tremble at the idea, that so much depends upon her own care in the early education of her children; but, even though she may be inexperienced in the art, she may be persuaded that patience and perseverance will ensure her success: even from her timidity we may prophesy favourably; for, in education, to know the danger, is often to avoid it. The first steps require rather caution and gentle kindness, than any difficult or laborious exertions: the female sex are, from their situation, their manners, and talents, peculiarly suited to the superintendence of the early years of childhood. We have, therefore, in the first chapters of the preceding work, endeavoured to adapt our remarks principally to female readers, and we shall think ourselves happy, if any anxious mother feels their practical utility.

In the chapters on Toys, Tasks, and Attention, we have attempted to show how the instruction and amusements of children may be so managed as to coincide with each other. Play, we have observed, is only a change of occupation; and toys, to be permanently agreeable to children, must afford them continued employment. We have declared war against tasks, or rather against the train of melancholy, which, associated with this word, usually render it odious to the ears of the disgusted scholar. By kind patience, and well timed, distinct, and above all, by short lessons, a young child may be initiated in the mysteries of learning, and in the first principles of knowledge, without fatigue, or punishment, or tears. No matter how little be learned in a given time, provided the pupil be not disgusted; provided the wish to improve be excited, and the habits of attention be acquired. Attention we consider as the faculty of the mind which is essential to the cultivation of all its other powers.

It is essential to success in what are called accomplishments, or talents, as well as to our progress in the laborious arts or abstract sciences. Believing so much to depend upon this faculty or habit, we have taken particular pains to explain the practical methods by which it may be improved. The general maxims, that the attention of young people should at first be exercised but for very short periods; that they should never be urged to the point of fatigue; that pleasure, especially the great pleasure of success, should be associated with the exertions of the pupil; are applicable to children of all tempers. The care which has been recommended, in the use of words, to convey uniformly distinct ideas, will, it is hoped, be found advantageous. We have, without entering into the speculative question concerning the original differences of temper and genius, offered such observations as we thought might be useful in cultivating the attention of vivacious, and indolent children; whether their idleness or indolence proceed from nature, or from mistaken modes of instruction, we have been anxious to point out means of curing their defects; and, from our successful experience with pupils apparently of opposite dispositions, we have ventured to assert with some confidence, that no parent should despair of correcting a child's defects; that no preceptor should despair of producing in his pupil the species of abilities which his education steadily tends to form. These are encouraging hopes, but not flattering promises. Having just opened these bright views to parents, we have paused to warn them, that all their expectations, all their cares, will be in vain, unless they have sufficient prudence and strength of mind to follow a certain mode of conduct with respect to servants, and with respect to common acquaintance. More failures in private education have been occasioned by the interference of servants and acquaintance, than from any other cause. It is impossible, we repeat it in the strongest terms, it is impossible that parents can be successful in the education of their children at home, unless they have steadiness enough to resist all interference from visiters and acquaintance, who from thoughtless kindness, or a busy desire to administer advice, are apt to counteract the views of a preceptor; and who often, in a few minutes, undo the work of years. When our pupils have formed their habits, and have reason and experience sufficient to guide them, let them be left as free as air; let them choose their friends and acquaintance; let them see the greatest variety of characters, and hear the greatest variety of conversation and opinions: but whilst they are children, whilst they are destitute of the means to judge, their parents or preceptors must supply their deficient reason; and authority, without violence, should direct them to their happiness. They must see, that all who are concerned in their education, agree in the means of governing them; in all their commands and prohibitions, in the distribution of praise and blame, of reward and punishment, there must be unanimity. Where there does not exist this unanimity in families; where parents have not sufficient firmness to prevent the interference of acquaintance, and sufficient prudence to keep children from all private communication with servants, we earnestly advise that the children be sent to some public seminary of education. We have taken some pains to detail the methods by which all hurtful communication between children and servants, in a well regulated family, may be avoided, and we have asserted, from the experience of above twenty years, that these methods have been found not only practicable, but easy.

In the chapters on Obedience, Temper and Truth, the general principle, that pleasure should excite to exertion and virtue, and that pain should be connected with whatever we wish our pupils to avoid, is applied to practice with a minuteness of detail which we knew not how to avoid. Obedience we have considered as a relative, rather than as a positive, virtue: before children are able to conduct themselves, their obedience must be rendered habitual: obedience alters its nature as the pupil becomes more and more rational; and the only method to secure the obedience, the willing, enlightened obedience of rational beings, is to convince them by experience, that it tends to their happiness. Truth depends upon example more than precept; and we have endeavoured to impress it on the minds of all who are concerned in education, that the first thing necessary to teach their pupils to love truth, is in their whole conduct to respect it themselves. We have reprobated the artifices sometimes used by preceptors towards their pupils; we have shown that all confidence is destroyed by these deceptions. May they never more be attempted! May parents unite in honest detestation of these practices! Children are not fools, and they are not to be governed like fools. Parents who adhere to the firm principle of truth, may be certain of the respect and confidence of their children. Children who never see the example of falsehood, will grow up with a simplicity of character, with an habitual love of truth, that must surprise preceptors who have seen the propensity to deceit which early appears in children who have had the misfortune to live with servants, or with persons who have the habits of meanness and cunning. We have advised, that children, before their habits are formed, should never be exposed to temptations to deceive; that no questions should be asked them which hazard their young integrity; that as they grow older, they should gradually be trusted; and that they should be placed in situations where they may feel the advantages both of speaking truth, and of obtaining a character for integrity. The perception of the utility of this virtue to the individual, and to society, will confirm the habitual reverence in which our pupils have been taught to hold it. As young people become reasonable, the nature of their habits and of their education should be explained to them, and their virtues, from being virtues of custom, should be rendered virtues of choice and reason. It is easier to confirm good habits by the conviction of the understanding, than to induce habits in consequence of that conviction. This principle we have pursued in the chapter on Rewards and Punishments; we have not considered punishment as vengeance or retaliation, but as pain inflicted with the reasonable hope of procuring some future advantage to the delinquent, or to society. The smallest possible quantity of pain that can effect this purpose, we suppose, must, with all just and humane persons, be the measure of punishment. This notion of punishment, both for the sake of the preceptor and the pupil, should be clearly explained as early as it can be made intelligible. As to rewards, we do not wish that they should be bribes; they should stimulate, without weakening the mind. The consequences which naturally follow every species of good conduct, are the proper and best rewards that we can devise; children whose understandings are cultivated, and whose tempers are not spoiled, will be easily made happy without the petty bribes which are administered daily to ill educated, ignorant, over stimulated, and, consequently, wretched and ill humoured children. Far from making childhood a state of continual penance, restraint, and misery, we wish that it should be made a state of uniform happiness; that parents and preceptors should treat their pupils with as much equality and kindness as the improving reason of children justifies. The views of children should be extended to their future advantage,[111] and they should consider childhood as a part of their existence, not as a certain number of years which must be passed over before they can enjoy any of the pleasures of life, before they can enjoy any of the privileges of grown up people. Preceptors should not accustom their pupils to what they call indulgence, but should give them the utmost degree of present pleasure which is consistent with their future advantage. Would it not be folly and cruelty to give present pleasure at the expense of a much larger portion of future pain? When children acquire experience and reason, they rejudge the conduct of those who have educated them; and their confidence and their gratitude will be in exact proportion to the wisdom and justice with which they have been governed.

It was necessary to explain at large these ideas of rewards and punishments, that we might clearly see our way in the progress of education. After having determined, that our object is to obtain for our pupils the greatest possible portion of felicity; after having observed, that no happiness can be enjoyed in society without the social virtues, without the useful and the agreeable qualities; our view naturally turns to the means of forming these virtues, of ensuring these essential qualities. On our sympathy with our fellow creatures depend many of our social virtues; from our ambition to excel our competitors, arise many of our most useful and agreeable actions. We have considered these principles of action as they depend on each other, and as they are afterwards separated. Sympathy and sensibility, uninformed by reason, cannot be proper guides to action. We have endeavoured to show how sympathy may be improved into virtue. Children should not see the deformed expression of the malevolent passions in the countenance of those who live with them: before the habits are formed, before sympathy has any rule to guide itself, it is necessarily determined by example. Benevolence and affectionate kindness from parents to children, first inspire the pleasing emotions of love and gratitude. Sympathy is not able to contend with passion or appetite: we should therefore avoid placing children in painful competition with one another. We love those from whom we receive pleasure. To make children fond of each other, we must make them the cause of pleasure to each other; we must place them in situations where no passion or appetite crosses their natural sympathy. We have spoken of the difference between transient, convivial sympathy, and that higher species of sympathy which, connected with esteem, constitutes friendship. We have exhorted parents not to exhaust imprudently the sensibility of their children; not to lavish caresses upon their infancy, and cruelly to withdraw their kindness when their children have learned to expect the daily stimulus of affection. The idea of exercising sensibility we have endeavoured to explain, and to show, that if we require premature gratitude and generosity from young people, we shall only teach them affectation and hypocrisy. We have slightly touched on the dangers of excessive female sensibility, and have suggested, that useful, active employments, and the cultivation of the reasoning faculty, render sympathy and sensibility more respectable, and not less graceful.

In treating of vanity, pride, and ambition, we have been more indulgent to vanity than our proud readers will approve. We hope, however, not to be misunderstood; we hope that we shall not appear to be admirers of that mean and ridiculous foible, which is anxiously concealed by all who have any desire to obtain esteem. We cannot, however, avoid thinking it is a contradiction to inspire young people with a wish to excel, and at the same time to insist upon their repressing all expressions of satisfaction if they succeed. The desire to obtain the good opinion of others, is a strong motive to exertion: this desire cannot be discriminative in children before they have any knowledge of the comparative value of different qualities, and before they can estimate the consequent value of the applause of different individuals. We have endeavoured to show how, from appealing at first to the opinions of others, children may be led to form judgments of their own actions, and to appeal to their own minds for approbation. The sense of duty and independent self-complacency may gradually be substituted in the place of weak, ignorant vanity. There is not much danger that young people, whose understandings are improved, and who mix gradually with society, should not be able to repress those offensive expressions of vanity or pride, which are disagreeable to the feelings of the "impartial spectators." We should rather let the vanity of children find its own level, than attempt any artificial adjustments; they will learn propriety of manners from observation and experience; we should have patience with their early uncivilized presumption, lest we, by premature restraints, check the energy of the mind, and induce the cold, feeble vice of hypocrisy. In their own family, among the friends whom they ought to love and esteem, let children, with simple, unreserved vivacity, express the good opinion they have of themselves. It is infinitely better that they should be allowed this necessary expansion of self-complacency in the company of their superiors, than that it should be repressed by the cold hand of authority, and afterwards be displayed in the company of inferiors and sycophants. We have endeavoured to distinguish between the proper and improper use of praise as a motive in education: we have considered it as a stimulus which, like all other excitements, is serviceable or pernicious, according to the degree in which it is used, and the circumstances in which it is applied.

Whilst we have thus been examining the general means of educating the heart and the understanding, we have avoided entering minutely into the technical methods of obtaining certain parts of knowledge. It was essential, in the first place, to show, how the desire of knowledge was to be excited; what acquirements are most desirable, and how they are to be most easily obtained, are the next considerations. In the chapter on Books—Classical Literature and Grammar—Arithmetic and Geometry—Geography and Astronomy—Mechanics and Chemistry—we have attempted to show, how a taste for literature may early be infused into the minds of children, and how the rudiments of science, and some general principles of knowledge, may be acquired, without disgusting the pupil, or fatiguing him by unceasing application. We have, in speaking of the choice of books for children, suggested the general principles, by which a selection may be safely made; and by minute, but we hope not invidious, criticism, we have illustrated our principles so as to make them practically useful.

The examination of M. Condillac's Cours d'Etude was meant to illustrate our own sentiments, more than to attack a particular system. Far from intending to depreciate this author, we think most highly of his abilities; but we thought it necessary to point out some practical errours in his mode of instruction. Without examples from real life, we should have wandered, as many others of far superior abilities have already wandered, in the shadowy land of theory.

In our chapters on Grammar, Arithmetic, Mechanics, Chemistry, &c. all that we have attempted has been to recall to preceptors the difficulties which they once experienced, and to trace those early footsteps which time insensibly obliterates. How few possess, like Faruknaz in the Persian tale, the happy art of transfusing their own souls into the bosoms of others!

We shall not pity the reader whom we have dragged through Garretson's Exercises, if we can save one trembling little pilgrim from that "slough of despond." We hope that the patient, quiet mode of teaching classical literature, which we have found to succeed in a few instances, may be found equally successful in others; we are not conscious of having exaggerated, and we sincerely wish that some intelligent, benevolent parents may verify our experiments upon their own children.

The great difficulty which has been found in attempts to instruct children in science, has, we apprehend, arisen from the theoretic manner in which preceptors have proceeded. The knowledge that cannot be immediately applied to use, has no interest for children, has no hold upon their memories; they may learn the principles of mechanics, or geometry, or chemistry; but if they have no means of applying their knowledge, it is quickly forgotten, and nothing but the disgust connected with the recollection of useless labour remains in the pupil's mind. It has been our object, in treating of these subjects, to show how they may be made interesting to young people; and for this purpose we should point out to them, in the daily, active business of life, the practical use of scientific knowledge. Their senses should be exercised in experiments, and these experiments should be simple, distinct, and applicable to some object in which our pupils are immediately interested. We are not solicitous about the quantity of knowledge that is obtained at any given age, but we are extremely anxious that the desire to learn should continually increase, and that whatever is taught should be taught with that perspicuity, which improves the general understanding. If the first principles of science are once clearly understood, there is no danger that the pupil should not, at any subsequent period of his life, improve his practical skill, and increase his knowledge to whatever degree he thinks proper.

We have hitherto proceeded without discussing the comparative advantages of public or private education. Whether children are to be educated at home, or to be sent to public seminaries, the same course of education, during the first years of their lives, should be pursued; and the preparatory care of parents is essential to the success of the public preceptor. We have admitted the necessity of public schools, and, in the present state of society, we acknowledge that many parents have it not in their power properly to superintend the private education of a family. We have earnestly advised parents not to attempt private education without first calculating the difficulties of the undertaking; we have pointed out that, by co-operating with the public instructer, parents may assist in the formation of their children's characters, without undertaking the sole management of their classical instruction. A private education, upon a calm survey of the advantages of both systems, we prefer, because more is in the power of the private than of the public instructer. One uniform course of experience may be preserved, and no examples, but those which we wish to have followed, need be seen by those children who are brought up at home. When we give our opinion in favour of private education, we hope that all we have said on servants and on acquaintance will be full in the reader's recollection. No private education, we repeat it, can succeed without perfect unanimity, consistency, and steadiness, amongst all the individuals in the family.

We have recommended to parents the highest liberality as the highest prudence, in rewarding the care of enlightened preceptors. Ye great and opulent parents, condescend to make your children happy: provide for yourselves the cordial of domestic affection against "that sickness of long life—old age."

In what we have said of governesses, masters, and the value of female accomplishments, we have considered not only what is the fashion of to-day, but rather what is likely to be the fashion of ten or twenty years hence. Mothers will look back, and observe how much the system of female education has altered within their own memory; and they will see, with "the prophetic eye of taste," what may probably be the fashion of another spring—another race.[112] We have endeavoured to substitute the words domestic happiness instead of the present terms, "success in the world—fortunate establishments," &c. This will lead, perhaps, at first, to some confusion in the minds of those who have been long used to the old terms: but the new vocabulary has its advantages; the young and unprejudiced will, perhaps, perceive them, and maternal tenderness will calculate with more precision, but not with less eagerness, the chances of happiness according to the new and old tables of interest.

Sectary-metaphysicians, if any of this description should ever deign to open a book that has a practical title, will, we fear, be disappointed in our chapters on Memory—Imagination and Judgment. They will not find us the partisans of any system, and they will probably close the volume with supercilious contempt. We endeavour to console ourselves by the hope, that men of sense and candour will be more indulgent, and will view with more complacency an attempt to collect from all metaphysical writers, those observations, which can be immediately of practical use in education. Without any pompous pretensions, we have given a sketch of what we have been able to understand and ascertain of the history of the mind. On some subjects, the wisest of our readers will at least give us credit for knowing that we are ignorant.

We do not set that high value upon Memory, which some preceptors are inclined to do. From all that we have observed, we believe that few people are naturally deficient in this faculty; though in many it may have been so injudiciously cultivated as to induce the spectators to conclude, that there was some original defect in the retentive power. The recollective power is less cultivated than it ought to be, by the usual modes of education: and this is one reason why so few pupils rise above mediocrity. They lay up treasures for moths to corrupt; they acquire a quantity of knowledge, they learn a multitude of words by rote, and they cannot produce a single fact, or a single idea, in the moment when it is wanted: they collect, but they cannot combine. We have suggested the means of cultivating the inventive faculty at the same time that we store the memory; we have shown, that on the order in which ideas are presented to the mind, depends the order in which they will recur to the memory; and we have given examples from the histories of great men and little children, of the reciprocal assistance which the memory and the inventive powers afford each other.

In speaking of Taste, it has been our wish to avoid prejudice and affectation. We have advised that children should early be informed, that the principles of taste depend upon casual, arbitrary, variable associations. This will prevent our pupils from falling into the vulgar errour of being amazed and scandalized at the tastes of other times and other nations. The beauties of nature and the productions of art, which are found to be most generally pleasing, we should associate with pleasure in the mind: but we ought not to expect that children should admire those works of imagination which suggest, instead of expressing, ideas. Until children have acquired the language, until they have all the necessary trains of ideas, many of the finest strokes of genius in oratory, poetry, and painting, must to them be absolutely unintelligible.

In a moral point of view, we have treated of the false associations which have early influence upon the imagination, and produce the furious passions and miserable vices. The false associations which first inspire the young and innocent mind with the love of wealth, of power, or what is falsely called pleasure, are pointed out; and some practical hints are offered to parents, which it is hoped may tend to preserve their children from these moral insanities.

We do not think that persons who are much used to children, will quarrel with us for what we have said of early prodigies of wit. People, who merely talk to children for the amusement of the moment, may admire their "lively nonsense," and will probably think the simplicity of mind that we prefer, is downright stupidity. The habit of reasoning is seldom learned by children who are much taken notice of for their sprightly repartees; but we have observed that children, after they have learned to reason, as they grow up and become acquainted with the manners and customs of the world, are by no means deficient in talents for conversation, and in that species of wit which depends upon the perception of analogy between ideas, rather than a play upon words. At all events, we would rather that our pupils should be without the brilliancy of wit, than the solid and essential power of judgment.

To cultivate the judgment of children, we must begin by teaching them accurately to examine and compare such external objects as are immediately obvious to their senses; when they begin to argue, we must be careful to make them explain their terms and abide by them. In books and conversation, they must avoid all bad reasoning, nor should they ever be encouraged in the quibbling habit of arguing for victory.

Prudence we consider as compounded of judgment and resolution. When we teach children to reflect upon and compare their own feelings, when we frequently give them their choice in things that are interesting to them, we educate them to be prudent. We cannot teach this virtue until children have had some experience; as far as their experience goes, their prudence may be exercised. Those who reflect upon their own feelings, and find out exactly what it is that makes them happy, are taught wisdom by a very few distinct lessons. Even fools, it is said, grow wise by experience, but it is not until they grow old under her rigid discipline.

Economy is usually understood to mean prudence in the management of money; we have used this word in a more enlarged sense. Children, we have observed, may be economic of any thing that is trusted to their charge; until they have some use for money, they need not be troubled or tempted with it: if all the necessaries and conveniences of life are provided for them, they must spend whatever is given to them as pocket money, in superfluities. This habituates them early to extravagance. We do not apprehend that young people should be entrusted with money, till they have been some time used to manage the money business of others. They may be taught to keep the accounts of a family, from which they will learn the price and value of different commodities. All this, our readers will perceive, is nothing more than the application of the different reasoning powers to different objects.

We have thus slightly given a summary of the chapters in the preceding work, to recall the whole in a connected view to the mind; a few simple principles run through the different parts; all the purposes of practical education tend to one distinct object; to render our pupils good and wise, that they may enjoy the greatest possible share of happiness at present and in future.

Parental care and anxiety, the hours devoted to the instruction of a family, will not be thrown away; if parents have the patience to wait for their reward, that reward will far surpass their most sanguine expectations: they will find in their children agreeable companions, sincere and affectionate friends. Whether they live in retirement, or in the busy world, they will feel their interest in life increase, their pleasures multiplied by sympathy with their beloved pupils; they will have a happy home. How much is comprised in that single expression! The gratitude of their pupils will continually recall to their minds the delightful reflection, that the felicity of their whole family is their work; that the virtues and talents of their children are the necessary consequences of good education.

FOOTNOTES:

[110]

"Turn from the glittering bribe your scornful eye, Nor sell for gold what gold can never buy."

Johnson's London.



[111] Emilius.

[112] "Another spring, another race supplies." Pope's Homer.



NOTES,

CONTAINING CONVERSATIONS AND ANECDOTES OF CHILDREN.

Several years ago a mother,[113] who had a large family to educate, and who had turned her attention with much solicitude to the subject of education, resolved to write notes from day to day of all the trifling things which mark the progress of the mind in childhood. She was of opinion, that the art of education should be considered as an experimental science, and that many authors of great abilities had mistaken their road by following theory instead of practice. The title of "Practical Education" was chosen by this lady, and prefixed to a little book for children, which she began, but did not live to finish. The few notes which remain of her writing, are preserved, not merely out of respect to her memory, but because it is thought that they may be useful. Her plan of keeping a register of the remarks of children, has at intervals been pursued in her family; a number of these anecdotes have been interspersed in this work; a few, which did not seem immediately to suit the didactic nature of any of our chapters, remain, and with much hesitation and diffidence are offered to the public. We have selected such anecdotes as may in some measure illustrate the principles that we have endeavoured to establish; and we hope, that from these trifling, but genuine conversations of children and parents, the reader will distinctly perceive the difference, between practical and theoretic education. As some further apology for offering them to the public, we recur to a passage in Dr. Reid's[114] Essays, which encourages an attempt to study minutely the minds of children.

"If we could obtain a distinct and full history of all that hath passed in the mind of a child from the beginning of life and sensation till it grows up to the use of reason, how its infant faculties began to work, and how they brought forth and ripened all the various notions, opinions, and sentiments, which we find in ourselves when we come to be capable of reflection, this would be a treasure of natural history which would probably give more light into the human faculties, than all the systems of philosophers about them, from the beginning of the world."

The reader, we hope, will not imagine that we think we can present him with this treasure of natural history; we have only a few scattered notices, as Bacon would call them, to offer; perhaps, even this slight attempt may awaken the attention of persons equal to the undertaking: if able preceptors and parents would pursue a similar plan, we might, in time, hope to obtain a full history of the infant mind.

It may occur to parents, that writing notes of the remarks of children would lessen their freedom and simplicity in conversation; this would certainly be the case if care were not taken to prevent the pupils from thinking of the note-book.[115] The following notes were never seen by the children who are mentioned in them, and though it was in general known in the family that such notes were taken, the particular remarks that were written down, were never known to the pupils: nor was any curiosity excited upon this subject. The attempt would have been immediately abandoned, if we had perceived that it produced any bad consequences. The simple language of childhood has been preserved without alteration in the following notes; and as we could not devise any better arrangement, we have followed the order of time, and we have constantly inserted the ages of the children, for the satisfaction of preceptors and parents, to whom alone these infantine anecdotes can be interesting: We say nothing farther as to their accuracy; if the reader does not see in the anecdotes themselves internal marks of veracity, all we could say would be of no avail.

X—— (a girl of five years old) asked why a piece of paper fell quickly to the ground when rumpled up, and why so slowly when opened.

Y—— (a girl of three years and a half old) seeing her sister taken care of and nursed when she had chilblains, said, that she wished to have chilblains.

Z—— (a girl between two and three) when her mother was putting on her bonnet, and when she was going out to walk, looked at the cat, and said with a plaintive voice, "Poor pussey! you have no bonnet, Pussey!"

X—— (5 years old) asked why she was as tall as the trees when she was far from them.

Z—— (4 years old) went to church, and when she was there said, "Do those men do every thing better than we, because they talk so loud, and I think they read."

It was a country church, and people sang; but the child said, "She thought they didn't sing, but roared, because they were shut up in that place, and didn't like it."

L—— (a boy between 3 and 4 years) was standing before a grate with coals in it, which were not lighted; his mother said to him, "What is the use of coals?"

L——. "To put in your grate."

Mother. "Why are they put there?"

L——. "To make fire."

Mother. "How do they make fire?"

L——. "Fire is brought to them."

Mother. "How is fire brought to them?"

L——. "Fire is brought to them upon a candle and put to them."

L——, a little while afterwards, asked leave to light a candle, and when a bit of paper was given to him for that purpose, said, "But, mother, may I take some light out of your fire to put to it?"

This boy had more exact ideas of property than Prometheus had.

Z——, when she was between five and six, said, "Water keeps things alive, and eating keeps alive children."

Z—— (same age) meddling with a fly, said, "she did not hurt it." "Were you ever a fly?" said her mother. "Not that I know of," answered the child.

Z——'s father sent her into a room where there were some knives and forks. "If you meddle with them," said he, "you may cut yourself."

Z——. "I won't cut myself."

Father. "Can you be sure of that?"

Z——. "No, but I can take care."

Father. "But if you should cut yourself, would it do you any good?"

Z——. "No—Yes."

Father. "What good?"

Z——. "Not to do so another time."

—— (same age.) Z——'s mother said to her, "Will you give me some of your fat cheeks?"

Z——. "No, I cannot, it would hurt me."

Mother. "But if it would not hurt you, would you give me some?"

Z——. "No, it would make two holes in my cheeks that would be disagreeable."

A sentimental mother would, perhaps, have been displeased with the simple answers of this little girl. (Vide Sympathy and Sensibility.)

The following memorandums of Mrs. H——E——'s (dated 1779) have been of great use to us in our chapter upon Toys.

"The playthings of children should be calculated to fix their attention, that they may not get a habit of doing any thing in a listless manner.

"There are periods as long as two or three months at a time, in the lives of young children, when their bodies appear remarkably active and vigorous, and their minds dull and inanimate; they are at these times incapable of comprehending any new ideas, and forgetful of those they have already received. When this disposition to exert the bodily faculties, subsides, children show much restlessness and distaste for their usual plays. The intervals between meals, appear long to them; they ask a multitude of questions, and are continually looking forward to some future good; if at this time any mental employment be presented to them, they receive it with the utmost avidity, and pursue it with assiduity; their minds appear to have acquired additional powers from having remained inactive for a considerable time."

(January 1781.) Z——, (7 years old.) "What are bones made of? My father says it has not been found out. If I should find it out, I shall be wiser in that respect than my father."

(April 8th.) Z——. "What becomes of the blood when people die?"

Father. "It stays in the body."

Z——. "I thought it went out of the body; because you told me, that what we eat was turned into blood, and that blood nourished the body and kept it alive."

Father. "Yes, my dear; but blood must be in motion to keep the body alive; the heart moves the blood through the arteries and veins, and the blood comes back again to the heart. We don't know how this motion is performed. What we eat, is not turned at once into blood; it is dissolved by something in the stomach, and is turned into something white like milk, which is called chyle; the chyle passes through little pipes in the body, called lacteals, and into the veins and arteries, and becomes blood. But I don't know how. I will show you the inside of the body of a dead pig: a pig's inside is something like that of a man."

Z—— (same age) when her father had given her an account of a large stone that was thrown to a considerable distance from Mount Vesuvius at the time of an eruption, she asked, how the air could keep a large stone from falling, when it would not support her weight.

Z——, (same age) when she was reading the Roman history, was asked, what she thought of the conduct of the wife of Asdrubal. Z—— said she did not like her. She was asked why. The first reason Z—— gave for not liking the lady, was, "that she spoke loud;" the next, "that she was unkind to her husband, and killed her children."

We regret (though perhaps our readers may rejoice) that several years elapsed in which these little notes of the remarks of children were discontinued. In 1792 the following notes were begun by one of the same family.

(March, '92.) Mr. —— saw an Irish giant at Bristol, and when he came home, Mr. —— gave his children a description of the giant. His height, he said, was about eight feet. S—— (a boy of five years old) asked whether this giant had lived much longer than other men.

Father. "No; why did you think he had lived longer than other men?"

S——. "Because he was so much taller."

Father. "Well."

S——. "And he had so much more time to grow."

Father. "People, after a certain age, do not grow any more. Your sister M——, and I, and your mother, have not grown any taller since you can remember, have we?"

S——. "No; but I have, and B——, and C——."

Father. "Yes; you are children. Whilst people are growing, they are children; after they have done growing they are called men and women."

(April, '92.) At tea-time, to-day, somebody said that hot chocolate scalds worse than hot tea or hot water. Mr. —— asked his children if they could give any reason for this. They were silent.

Mr. ——. "If water be made as hot as it can be made, and if chocolate be made as hot as it can be made, the chocolate will scald you the most. Can you tell me why!"

C—— (a girl between eight and nine years old.) "Because there is oil, I believe, in the chocolate; and because it is thicker, and the parts closer together, than in tea or water."

Father. "What you say is true; but you have not explained the reason yet. Well, H——."

H—— (a boy between nine and ten.) "Because there is water in the bubbles."

Father. "Water in the bubbles? I don't understand. Water in what bubbles?"

H——. "I thought I had always seen, when water boils, that there are a great many little bubbles upon the top."

Father. "Well; but what has that to do with the question I asked you?"

H——. "Because the cold air that was in the bubbles, would cool the water next them, and then"—(he was quite confused, and stopped.)

B—— (a girl of ten or eleven years old) spoke next. "I thought that chocolate was much thicker than water, and there were more parts, and those parts were closer together, and each could hold but a certain quantity of heat; and therefore chocolate could be made hotter than water."

Father. "That is a good chemical idea. You suppose that the chocolate and tea can be saturated with heat. But you have none of you yet told the reason."

The children were all silent.

Father. "Can water ever be made hotter than boiling hot?"

B——. "No."

Father. "Why?"

B——. "I don't know."

Father. "What happens to water when it does what we call boil?"

H——. "It bubbles, and makes a sort of noise."

B——. "It turns into steam or vapour, I believe."

Father. "All at once?"

B——. "No: but what is at the top, first."

Father. "Now you see the reason why water can't be made hotter than boiling hot: for if a certain degree of heat be applied to it, it changes into the form of vapour, and flies off. When I was a little boy, I was once near having a dreadful accident. I had not been taught the nature of water, and steam, and heat, and evaporation; and I wanted to fill a wet hollow stick with melted lead. The moment I poured the lead into the stick, the water in the wood turned into vapour suddenly, and the lead was thrown up with great violence to the ceiling: my face narrowly escaped. So you see people should know what they are about before they meddle with things.—But now as to the chocolate."