remove some well founded objections, which, but for this reason, would not have existed. The infant mind, like a tender plant, requires to be handled and dealt with carefully, for if it be forced and injudiciously treated during the first seven years of its existence, it will affect its whole constitution as long as it lives afterwards. There are hundreds of persons who will not believe this, and those persons will employ mere boys and girls to teach infants. Let them do so if they please; I simply protest against it, and merely give it as my opinion that it is highly improper to do so. If ever infant schools are to become real blessings to the country, they must be placed under the care of wise, discreet, and experienced persons, for no others will be fit or able to develop and cultivate the infant faculties aright. I have felt it necessary to make these remarks, because in different parts of the country I have found mere children employed as school-masters and school-mistresses, to the great detriment of the young committed to their charge, and the dishonour of the country that permits it. No wise man would put a mere child to break his colts; none but a foolish one would employ an inexperienced boy to break in his dogs; even the poultry and pigs would be attended by a person who knew something about them; but almost any creature who can read and write, and is acquainted with the first rules of arithmetic, is too frequently thought a fit and proper person to superintend infants. I know many instances of discarded servants totally unfit, made teachers of infants, merely to put them in place; to the destruction of the highest and most noble of God’s creatures! which I contend infants are. To expect that such persons can give gallery lessons as they ought to be given, is expecting what will never, nor can take place. The public must possess different views of the subject; more rational ideas on the art of teaching must be entertained, and greater remuneration must be given to teachers, and greater efforts made to train and educate them, to fit them for the office, before any very beneficial results can be seen; and it is to produce such results, and a better tone of feeling on the subject, that I have thus ventured to give my opinion more in detail. Efficient gallery lessons–efficient teachers must be made. They do not at present exist in large numbers, and can only be made by a suitable reward being held out to them, and by their being placed under the superintendence of experienced persons acquainted with the art. The art of teaching is no mean art, and must, sooner or later, take its proper rank amongst the other sciences. It is a science which requires deep study and knowledge of human character, and is only to be learned like all other sciences, by much perseverance and practice. In another work, on the education of older children, I have given some specimens of gallery lessons; in this I shall endeavour to give a few specimens of what I think useful lessons for infants, and shall also try to clothe them in language suited to the infant apprehensions; and I sincerely hope they may shew in a plain manner the method of giving this species of instruction to the children, and that teachers who were before ignorant of it, may be benefitted thereby. I shall not pretend to give my opinion as to whether I have succeeded, but will leave this point entirely to the judgment and candour of my readers; for I know by experience that it is a very difficult thing to put practice into theory; and although this may seem paradoxical, yet I have no doubt that many have experienced the very same results when trying to explain theoretically on paper what they have with ease practised a thousand times.
These oral lessons on real objects ought to be given in pure, simple, and plain language, level to the understanding and capacity of children. It may be well at times to use words of a more difficult or scientific character; but these should always have the proper explanation given; the words used most frequently in common life, in ordinary and proper conversation, ought to be most strongly impressed on their memories. It may, perhaps, be retorted on me–why then teach the difficult and scientific names of geometrical figures. The answer is very simple. Most of them have no other, and where they have I always give them also, as sloping, slanting, inclined, for oblique. The geometrical figures are the elements of all forms, and the simplest objects which can be presented to the young. I have found them always learned with the greatest ease and pleasure. Pestalozzi, I have understood, was led to the use of them by observing the wants of the young mind, in a similar manner that I was myself. This is, therefore, one of the many coincidences in thought and discovery by minds wholly independent of each other, which have been directed to the same subjects. This is an evitable result. If two men look at the moon, both must see that it is round, bright, and mottled; and if two minds far apart, turn their attention to similar subjects, the probability is that their views will coincide. The most powerful mind will of course make the deepest and simplest discovery.
Object lessons should be given chiefly on such things as fall under more constant observation and are daily coming before the sight, and then useful knowledge will be accumulated, and frequently reimpressed upon the memory by the seeing of the objects.
GALLERY LESSONS ON A FEATHER.
We will suppose the children all properly seated, the little girls on one side of the gallery and the little boys on the other, as represented on the plan-plate. If the morning is fine and clear, a lesson may be given on an object that the children are not frequently in the habit of seeing; but should the weather be hazy, and the atmosphere heavy, then a lesson must be given on some object which they all frequently see, say, for example, a feather. The feather must be held up in the hand, or placed in a small niche on the top of a pointer, so that every child will see it, and it must be moved about in various directions to arrest their attention. The first lesson should be pure development, which is to get every idea from the children relative to the object before you. Explain to them yours; as for example,
“What is this?” The universal shout will be, “A feather.” You may then ask them, What are its uses? Some little creatures will say, to blow about; others will say, to cover birds; others will say, to stuff pillows and beds to sleep upon. Having got all the information out of them you can in their own simple language, you have acted according to nature’s law, and it is now your turn to infuse additional information into their minds, and, give them the benefit of your superior knowledge; which may be done as follows:–You have told me that feathers are useful to cover birds, it was for this that they were made by God; they keep the birds warm just in the same way as your clothes keep you from being cold; and as the poor birds cannot make themselves clothes as men can, God has given them feathers that they may not be cold when the bad weather comes. The feathers are useful to the birds also in flying; the long feathers in a bird’s wing keep him in the air, which he could not fly through if he was covered with any thing else, because feathers are very light. Seven of the large feathers out of the great eagle’s wing would not weigh more than two halfpennies. The wings of a bird make him able to fly, and the tail guides him through the air, just as you may see the men steer boats with the rudder; and if you pulled the feathers off his tail, he would not be able to fly near so straight or fast as when they are on. When the rain falls on the feathers, they are never soaked through with it as a piece of rag would be if you threw water on it, because they are covered with a sort of oil which does not let in the water. If you ever look at a duck dive into the water, you can see it when it comes up quite dry; but if you dipped you head into the water it would wet it all over. When little birds, such as the sparrow and canary, come out of the egg, they have no feathers on, but the old ones cover them with their wings to keep the cold away, and the feathers soon grow, and then they can fly away and find food and make nests for themselves; but large birds, such as the goose, turkey, hen, and duck, have a sort of soft down on them when they come out of the shell, and little ducks will go and swim as soon as they are hatched, as I suppose some of you have seen.
Some birds’ feathers are much prettier than others: the goose has not such pretty feathers as the swan, nor the swan as the peacock; but we must not think ill of the goose for this, for its flesh is better to eat than either the peacock or swan. I am sure many of you little children like roast goose. The peacock has very pretty feathers indeed, and so has the pheasant, and the drake, and the cock; but some birds that live in countries many hundred miles away from this, have much prettier than any bird that lives in this country. This feather that we have for our lesson is the feather of a goose; it is not very pretty, but if we examine it well we shall find it is very curious, and all the men in the world could not make one like it. Goose feathers are the most useful; the small ones make stuffing for pillows and beds, and the large ones make pens to write with. Birds change their feathers often; they drop off and they get new ones; this is called moulting.
Having thus given the children as much information on the subject as they will be likely to be able to digest properly, you may then get it back from them by question and answer; as for instance
Q. What have we been talking about? A. Birds’ feathers. Q. Do they do the birds any good? A. Yes, keep them warm. Q. What more good? A. Make them able to fly. Q. Who gives the birds feathers to make them warm? A. God. Q. Are feathers very heavy? A. No, very light. Q. What is the reason that they are very light? A. That they may fly easily. Q. What part of the body does a bird fly with? A. Its wings. Q. Is no other part useful in flying? A. Yes. Q. Do you remember what part? A. Its tail. Q. Of what use is its tail? A. To guide it. Q. What do you mean by guiding it? A. Turning it any way it wants to go. Q. What is the reason that birds’ feathers do not get all full of wet when the rain falls on them? A. Because there is an oily juice that makes the rain fall off. Q. When little birds, such as sparrows and robins, come out of the eggs, have they got feathers? A. No, they are naked. Q. Are they very long naked? A. No, in a few days the feathers grow. Q. Is it not curious that the cold does not kill the little birds while they are naked? A. So it would, only the old ones sit over them and keep them warm. Q. Are ducks and turkeys and hens naked when the come out of the shell? A. No. Q. What are they covered with? A. A sort of down. Q. Do you know of any bird that has very pretty feathers? A. Yes, the peacock. Q. Is it prettier than the goose? A. Yes. Q. Is it so useful? A. No. Q. What do the goose feathers make? A. The feathers in the quill make pelts? Q. What do the small ones make? A. They make stuffing for pillows and beds. Q. Where do the prettiest birds live? A. In very warm places, far away from this. Q. Do the same feathers always remain on a bird? A. No, they drop off, and new ones come. Q. What is this called? A. Moulting.
Such lessons as this will never be forgotten by the little ones. They will learn to adore the great God at the sight of any thing he has made. It is hoped they learn to love to read Nature’s book when they grow older, as every correct notion obtained by a child, through a natural object, which it is frequently accustomed to meet with, can never be entirely effaced; and what is more, it prepares the way, at some future time, for a larger amount of knowledge as to God’s revealed will.
A spider, a living specimen of which may be easily procured, may be made a very instructive gallery lesson; it may prevent the fears and foolish prejudices against ugly yet harmless insects, which often remain through life. Part of a bush may be procured with a real web and spider upon it, so that its beautiful and highly curious web may be also exhibited to the children, its uses may be also pointed out, and a short history of the little animal’s habits may be given, but not before their opinions have been taken on the object, which may be done in a similar manner as that which we pointed out in the former lesson, and then the teacher may proceed thus:
You have told me that this little creature is called a spider, and some of you think it very ugly, and say you are afraid of it, but sensible children will not be frightened at a spider, because they will remember that they are very harmless little things, and have not got a sting as the wasp and bee have. They are very ugly, to be sure, but every ugly insect is not to be called a nasty creature, for some are very useful, notwithstanding their not being as handsome as others; and spiders are very useful too, although very few people know how to make use of them; but they little think that the poor little insect which they brush off the wall, and trample under their feet, can tell them what weather they are going to have, as sure, and surer than a weather-glass. When the weather is going to be fine it peeps its head out of its hole, and stretches out its legs; and the farther its legs and head are out, the longer will the fine weather stay. When the weather is going to be very bad it goes farther back; and when very dreadful and stormy weather is going to come, it turns its back to the door of its hole and its head inside. In winter, when frost and snow is going to commence, they make their webs very fast, and by this you may know the frosty weather is coming; so you see, children, that spiders may be useful to know what kind of weather we shall have.
Spiders are very cunning; they live on flies; but they could never catch them, only they are able to weave a strong web, which they do in a place where the flies often come; and when a poor fly gets into the web, the spider runs out and soon kills it, and then drags it up to his den, where he eats it at his ease, and hides the wings and skin, that the other flies may not see them; but if an enemy stronger than itself comes to his web, the spider remains in his hole till the danger is all over. Some spiders that live in countries far away are a great deal larger and uglier than our spiders; but we need not be ever afraid of a spider, because they can neither bite nor sting us, and are very curious insects. Q. What have I been telling you about? A. The spider. Q. Are you afraid of it? A. No, you told us it would do us no harm. Q. Are spiders very ugly? A. They are. Q. Should we think badly of them for this? A. No. Q. Who made the spider? A. God. Q. Does he not make every animal, whether handsome or ugly? A. Yes. Q. Can spiders be of use? A. They will tell us what weather we are going to have. Q. When it is going to be fine what do they do? A. They put their legs and head out of their hole. Q. When it is going to be bad weather what do they do? A. They turn their heads round and go into their holes. Q. When the weather is going to be very cold and frosty what do they do? A. They build their webs very fast. Q. What do they live upon? A. Flies. Q. How do they catch them? A. By making webs. Q. When a fly gets into their web what do they do? A. They kill it and eat it. Q. Are the spiders in other countries larger than ours? A. Yes, in some places they are much larger and uglier. Q. Who teaches the spider to make its web? A. God. Q. Could any man in the world make a spider’s web? A. No, no one could do it.
The teacher may then add thus:–Thus you see, little children, that every living thing has some merit of its own, and can do many things which we cannot do, although God has given us the means to become so much wiser than they; and be sure you are not frightened at them, nor put them to unnecessary pain. Some other day I will tell you what is the shape of the spider’s web, and shew you what a number of regular figures the spider’s web is composed of.
Almost every object, however simple it may be, will form an instructive gallery lesson; thus for example, you may take a piece of bog-turf, and after submitting it to the inspection of the infants, you may inquire, What is this? If it be in a country where turf is used, a general exclamation will inform you of its name; if not, you may find a better and more familiar object for your lesson. When you have got the name, you may then ask its uses, and will soon find that the children are well acquainted with them. You may then proceed to give your own information on the subject in something like the following words, taking care that you use no word that the children do not themselves understand, or that you have not explained to them.
Little children, look at what I hold. You have told me it is a piece of bog-turf, and it is used to make fires. In Ireland turf is more used to make fires than coal, because it is very plentiful there, and many of the poor people in Ireland build their houses of it, and when they keep them well mended and covered, they are very warm and comfortable, and they burn good turf fires in their turf houses; but some of them are lazy, and do not keep their turf houses mended, so the rain comes in, and they are very miserable, and so will all idle lazy people be. I hope no little child here will be lazy, Now I will tell you where they get all this turf, they dig it out of the bogs. There are bogs in England; they call them mosses or fens, and in Scotland there are bogs, but the bogs in Ireland are much more plentiful. Some of them are so very large that you cannot see across them, and a great many birds live amongst them, such as wild ducks, and geese, and cranes, and herons, and snipe, all of which I will tell you about some other time. Those great bogs are very wild, lonesome, dreary places; no person can live on them, because they are so wet and soft, and they are full of great deep holes with water in them, which are called bog holes, and if any person fell in they would be drowned. Sometimes in the middle of this great bog you will see a pretty green island, where the land is firm and strong, and the grass is nice and sweet, so that the poor people make a dry path across the wet bog to these islands, that they may drive their cows, and goats, and horses to feed there; and some of these islands are very pretty places, and look so green in the centre of the black bog. Those bogs which are now such wet, black, nasty places, were once forests of great trees, as large as any you children ever saw, and pretty bright rivers ran through those forests, and nice birds sang in the branches, and great stags eat the grass underneath; we will read about the stag at some other time. This was many hundred years ago, and there were very few people living then in Ireland, and by degrees, when the trees got very old, they began to fall down into the rivers and stopped them up, so that the water could not flow on, and the rivers overflowed all the nice forests, and the trees all fell, so that when some hundred years passed they were all down, and the branches rotted, and the grass and clay became wet, like sponge, and the whole of the nice shady forests of great trees became what we call bogs, and the remains of those pretty branches and leaves, where the birds used to sing so sweetly, has become turf, like this piece which we have for a lesson; and when men are cutting this turf out, they often find the great trunks of those trees, that many hundred years ago were so green and beautiful, quite black and ugly, but still so hard that they can scarcely be cut, and these old trees are called bog-oak, and the cabinet-maker buys them and makes them into beautiful chairs, and tables, and presses, and many other things, and they are quite black, and when polished you little children might see your faces in them. Thus you see, my little children, that there is nothing which God has made which is not very wonderful and curious, even this piece of bog-turf, which you would not have heard about if you did not come to the infant school to learn about so many useful and curious things.
This will perhaps be enough of information for one lesson; and having thus infused it in an agreeable form into their minds, you may proceed in the manner before mentioned to get it back from them, in order to impress it more firmly on their understandings; and if this be always done in the proper manner, they will become as familiar with the subject, and learn it as quickly as they would the tissue of nonsense contained in the common nursery tales of “Jack and Jill,” or, “the old woman and her silver penny,” whose only usefulness consists in their ability to amuse, but from which no instruction can be possibly drawn; beside which, they form in the child’s mind the germ of that passion for light reading which afterwards, in many instances, prevents an application to any thing solid or instructive. Being in themselves the foundation stone on which a huge and useless mass of fiction is piled in after years, the philosophical mind will at once perceive the advantage of our system of amusement mingled with instruction, and perceive that upon its simple basis a noble structure may be afterwards raised; and minds well stored with useful lore, and capable of discerning evil in whatever shape it presents itself, and extracting honey from every object, will be farmed, which, when they become numerous, will cause a glorious change in the moral world, the first germ of which will be traced to the properly managed gallery lessons of an infant school. Having asked the children if they are tired, the teacher, if he receives an answer in the negative, may thus proceed:–
Q. What have we been hearing about? A. Turf. Q. What is the use of turf? A. To make fires. Q. What other use is sometimes made of it? A. To build houses. Q. Where do they build turf houses? A. In Ireland. Q. Are they not very cold? Q. No; if they are kept mended, they are not. Q. What do you call people, when they like to sleep in the cold rather than mend their houses? A. Lazy. Q. Is it bad to be lazy? A. Yes; very bad. Q. What do we call it besides being lazy? Q. Being idle. Q. Are idle people very happy? A. No; they are always miserable. Q. Right; and I hope no little children will be ever idle; they should always try to be useful, and do all they can to help their friends. Now tell me, where is the turf got From? A. From bogs. Q. What are they called in England? A. Mosses and fens. Q. Are the bogs in England larger than in Ireland? A. No; the Irish bogs are the largest. Q. What animals live in the bogs? A. Some sorts of birds. Q. Do men and women live in them? A. No. Q. Why not? A. They are too wet and soft. Q. What very dangerous places are in some parts of them? A. Bog-holes. Q. What are they? A. Deep holes full of water. Q. What did I tell you were in some parts of these bogs? A. Nice green islands. Q. Are they of any use? A. Yes; the people put cows and horses to feed on them. Q. How do they get across the bog? A. They make a kind of rough road over to them. Q. What do they cut the turf with? A. A sort of spade with two sides. Q. What is this called? A. A Slane. Q. When the turf is cut, what do they do next? A. Put it in heaps to dry. Q. What were those great bogs many hundred years ago? A. Beautiful forests of fine large trees. Q. What flowed through those forests? A. Nice bright rivers. Q. What sang in the trees? A. Pretty birds. Q. What eat the grass? A. Fine large stags and deer. Q. How did those beautiful places become ugly black wet bogs? A. The trees, when they got old, fell into the rivers and stopped them up. Q. What did this cause? A. The water flowed over the banks. Q. What harm did this do? A. It made all the nice grass wet and marshy. Q. What more? A. It rotted the roots of the trees. Q. What happened then? A. They all fell down. Q. In some hundred years, what did all those forests become? A. Great bogs. Q. Are any of the trunks or bodies of those old trees ever found? A. Yes; many hundreds are yet far under the bogs. Q. Are they of any use? A. Yes; they are useful to make chairs, tables, and presses. Q. What colour are they? A. As black as a piece of coal. Q. When they are polished, do they look nice? A. Yes; so bright you can see your face in them. Q. What is this wood called? A. Bog-oak. Q. Will you all try to remember this lesson? A. We will. Teacher. That is right; for little children should always remember the pretty things that their teacher takes such trouble to tell them.
In places where coal is most burned, a piece of it may be made the medium of a very useful and instructive lesson, being so familiar an object, their attention will be arrested by its being made the subject of a lesson; and their curiosity aroused to know every thing about it. When the teacher asks what is this, the simultaneous shout, of “a piece of coal,” will convince him that he has arrested their attention; and a few questions will exhaust their stock of information on the subject–they will tell him its uses are to make fires to boil up their dinners, &c. &c. He may then proceed as follows:–You see, little children, this piece of coal; look at it attentively; it is black and shining; and you all know will burn very quickly. The places from whence all coal is brought are called _coal mines_; the men who dig it out of the ground, and the ships that carry it over the sea, are called colliers, and the place where the coals are got is called a colliery. The coal mines are deep holes made very far under the ground, in order to get at the coal; some of them go under the sea. The colliers live a great part of their life, in those dark holes, in order to get us coal to make us fires to dress our food, and very often are killed, either by the falling in of the roof from above, or from a sort of air called fire-damp, which, if touched with any fire, will blow up like gunpowder, and will kill any person that is near it; the poor colliers are also often smothered by the bad air that is in those damp, dark holes; so you see, little children, what dangers they go through, in order to get us coal, which we could very badly do without.
How very good God is to us; he made this coal under the earth that we might have nice fires to dress our food, and warm ourselves by in cold weather; we should be very thankful to him for all his great blessings, and should never do anything to make him angry with us; he is very sorry when he sees a little child naughty, because he has done every thing to make us happy, and we never can be so if we are naughty and bad. Bad boys and girls are never happy, and God does not love them when they are so, and it is very sad to make God angry with us.
Coal is very useful for other things besides making fires to dress our food, and to warm us. Many things that are very useful could not be made without it. The gas that lights the streets is made from coal, and when the gas is taken from it what is left is called coke, which makes a very bright warm fire.
The teacher that properly enters into the spirit of these lessons, may find in the simplest objects, a never-ending source of pleasure and instruction for his infant pupils. No person who is not qualified to give proper and really useful gallery lessons is by any means fit for a teacher of infants; to learn the mere routine of an infant school is not very difficult, but this will be of no avail if the teacher have not qualifications of a much higher order, which will enable him continually to pour instruction clothed in simple language, into the minds of his pupils; simplicity is the life and soul of gallery teaching; without this, the breath is wasted, and time is spent in vain. To teach infants we must reduce our language to their tender capacities, and become, in idea and words, one of themselves. Having given the children your information on a piece of coal, you now proceed to get it back, as follows
Q. Little children, what have we been speaking about? A. About coal. Q. What colour is it? A. Black. Q. Is it anything besides? A. Yes; shining. Q. What are the places called from whence coal is got? A. Coal-mines. Q. What are the men that dig it out of the ground and the ships that carry it over the sea called? A. Colliers. Q. What is the place called where the coal pits are made? A. A colliery. Q. What are coal pits? A. Deep holes dug to get at the coal. Q. Are the colliers in danger down in these deep pits? A. They are. Q. From what? A. From fire-damp? Q. What is it? A. A sort of air that blows up like gun-powder. Q. From what more are they in danger? A. The roofs falling in. Q. From what more? A. From bad air which often smothers them. Q. What is made from coal to light the streets? A. Gas. Q. What is coal called after the gas has been taken from it? A. Coke. Q. Does coke make a good fire? A. Yes; very bright and strong. Q. Who made the coal? A. God. Q. What should we be to him for it? A. Very thankful. Q. How can we shew we are thankful? A. By being very good. Q. Is God glad to see a child naughty? A. No; he is very sorry. Q. Does he love naughty children? A. No; he does not. Q. Are naughty children happy? A. No; very unhappy. Thus every lesson may be made not only a vehicle for conveying instruction, but also of instilling into the infant mind a reverence, a sense of gratitude and love towards that great Being who called us all into existence; this should be never lost sight of, in giving the child those primary sentiments, reverence and gratitude towards its God, you lay a basis on which doctrinal religion may be afterwards built with more advantage. The child thus early trained in such feelings, conveyed in a manner so admirably adapted to its tender mind, can scarcely fail, unless it possesses a heart of great natural depravity, of becoming a good man, and it is thus that infant schools may become a great and lasting blessing to the country. But where this is overlooked–where the vital principle of the infant system is rejected, and the mere mechanical parts alone retained, as to any great and lasting benefit, it will be a complete and unhappy failure. That the grand object of the infant system may be accomplished, namely, of raising up a generation superior to the last, both in religious, moral, and intellectual acquirements, an immense caution and great experience in the selection of teachers is required; till proper teachers are universally provided the infant system will never be really successful: success does not merely consist in universal adoption and extension, if it did it would be now really so. But another thing is wanting before it can be called successful, that is, it must be understood.
None can understand it but thinkers, and deep thinkers, and thinkers in the right direction. Merely to glance around and gather scraps of knowledge from the various, “ologies” in existence, which the “march of intellect” has brought into being, and which were unknown to our forefathers; and then to force them on the young memory at random, may be to teach what was not before taught, but it is not to display any _new method of teaching; any more efficient way of communicating knowledge_. Those who would truly understand the infant system, must think for themselves, and observe the workings of the young mind, mark the intellectual principles which first develope themselves, strive to understand the simple laws of mental action; and all this that they may know how to teach in accordance with them. When this is fairly done, perhaps the whole that is recorded in this book, may be thought more valuable than it is at present, and be found a not unworthy subject to devote a whole life to become acquainted with and elucidate both practically and theoretically. Others then will, perhaps, not be quite so audacious in unjust plagiarisms. When Columbus had made the egg stand on an end all others could then do it. When he had discovered America, every one said they might have done it also. All great and important truths are simple, and when presented to the mind, although unknown before, seem as if they had been well known, there is such an accurate consistency between the mind and them. This leads me to suppose that there is simple and useful truths in my volumes, as every one seems to take them for their own. I can only say that they have cost _me_ many and many an hour of close observation, and deep and independent thinking. I have devoted my whole life for the good of others, and have injured myself and family, that I might do so. To rescue little children from vice and misery, and to have them placed under physical, intellectual, moral, and religious discipline, has been the delight of my heart, and the object of my life. After this labour, to have my inventions pirated, my plans made use of in part, and in the rest spoken against; to have others to reap the fields that I have sown, and at the same time traduce and injure me; to be thus thrust out as it were from my rightful employment, and left in comparative obscurity as old age begins to draw on; requires a spirit stronger than that of man, and a heart more than human, not to feel it, and feel it deeply. I care little for myself, but regret most to see spurious systems of infant education palmed upon the public by ignorant persons, and thus deprive them of a great benefit which they might possess.
Facts recorded in Scripture may be given orally as gallery lessons, taking care to exhibit some picture representing the subject proposed for the lesson–take, for example, the finding of Moses–which represents the daughter of Pharaoh coming down to bathe with her maidens, and also the infant Moses in the ark, cradle, or boat, which was made for the purpose. The subject is then to be propounded to the children as follows, and the teacher is to take care to repeat it clearly and distinctly in short sentences, and to be careful that all the pupils repeat it as distinctly after him; by thus means the essence of the story is infused into the minds of the children, with the addition of their being taught to repeat all the words distinctly and properly, which will assist their pronunciation very much when they begin to read the lesson described in another part of this work.
“And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to wash herself at the river, and her maidens walked along by the river’s side, and when she saw the ark among the flags she sent her maid to fetch it, and when she had opened it she saw the child, and behold the babe wept. And she had compassion on him; and said, This is one of the Hebrews’ children. Then said his sister to Pharaoh’s daughter, Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee? And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, Go; and the maid went and called the child’s mother. And Pharaoh’s daughter said unto her, Take this child away and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages; and the woman took the child and nursed it, and the child grew, and she brought hum unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son, and she called his name Moses: and she said, Because I drew him out of the water.”–_Exodus_ ii.
Q. What does this picture represent? A. The finding of Moses. Q. Who came down to wash herself at the river? A. Pharaoh’s daughter. Q. Who was Pharaoh? A. The king of Egypt. Q. What is Egypt? A. A country in Africa. Q. What is Africa? A. A part of the earth on which we live. Q. Where did her maidens walk? A. They walked along by the river’s side. Q. When Pharaoh’s daughter saw the ark amongst the flags, what did she do? A. She sent her maid to fetch it. Q. And when she opened it, what did she see. A. She saw the child. Q. What was the ark? A. A sort of boat made of rushes, such as grow in the river. Q. Would not the water get into this? A. No; it was kept dry inside by pitch and slime. Q. What were the flags that the ark was among? A. A sort of plant that grows in rivers. Q. Did the child laugh? A. No; it wept, and she had compassion on him. Q. And what did she say? A. This is one of the Hebrews’ children. Q. What did his sister say to Pharaoh’s daughter? A. Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women? Q. What is meant by his sister? A. The sister of Moses who stood to watch what would become of him. Q. What did she ask to call a nurse for? A. To nurse the child. Q. What did Pharaoh’s daughter say? A. Go. Q. Who did the maid fetch? A. The child’s mother. Q. When she came what did Pharaoh’s daughter say to her? A. Take this child away and nurse it for me. Q. And what did she say she would give her? A. Her wages. Q. Did the woman take the child? A. Yes; and nursed it. Q. What became of the child? A. It grew, and she brought it unto Pharaoh’s daughter, and it became her son. Q. What name did she give him? A. She called his name Moses. Q. What for? A. Because she drew hum out of the water. Q. Look at this picture, what is the girl holding over Pharaoh’s daughter’s head? A. A sort of umbrella. Q. What is she holding it up for? A. To keep away the heat of the sun. Q. Were there slaves in those days? A. Yes. Q. Is the little girl holding the umbrella meant to represent a slave? A. Yes. Q. Do you know what a slave is? A. A person who is taken from his home and made to work for nothing and against his wills.
Christ with the doctors in the temple, forms, when given as explained, a good gallery lesson–thus:
“And it came to pass that after those days she found him in the temple sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them and asking them questions; and all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers. And when they saw him they were amazed, and his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing. And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business. And they understood not the saying which he spake unto them. And he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them; but his mother kept all these sayings in _her heart_: and Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.”–_Luke_ ii. 46-52.
Q. Where did they find him? A. In the temple. Q. Sitting in the midst of whom? A. Of the doctors. Q. What was he doing there? A. Hearing and asking them questions. Q. And they were astonished at his, what? A. Understanding and answers. Q. What did Jesus’ mother say unto him? A. Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Q. What more did she say? A. Thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing. Q. What did Jesus say unto her? A. He said, how is it that ye sought me? Q. Did he say anything more? A. Yes; wist ye not that I must be about my father’s business. Q. What is the meaning of wist ye not? A. Know ye not. Q. When Jesus went with them, where did they come to? A. To Nazareth? Q. What is Nazareth? A. A town in Asia. Q. His mother kept those sayings, where? A. In her heart. Q. In what did Jesus increase? A. In wisdom and stature. Q. What do you mean by increasing in stature? A. Growing larger.
Many books of scripture stories have been written for children, but it is far best to select simple and suitable passages from the sacred volume, and have them properly illustrated by coloured plates. By this method the children become acquainted with the very letter of scripture. Written stories often leave very wrong impressions; and the history of David and Goliah has been given in an infant school, so that it would make an excellent counterpart to Jack, the giant killer. Surely such things ought never to be! Abundance of historical portions, full of moral and religious instruction, and such as are calculated from their simplicity and beauty, to deeply impress the minds of children, can be selected from both Testaments; but the miracles and parables of our Saviour constitute the richest store.
MORAL TRAINING.
One of the grand aims of the infant system was intended to improve the system of moral training. The great deficiency in our systems of education, with respect to moral training, is truly lamentable, from the highest down to the lowest schools in the land. There is room for immense improvement in this matter, it is hardly possible to visit a school and witness proper efforts made on this important subject; and never will education produce the glorious effects anticipated from it, until this subject is legislated for and well understood by the public; and I pray to God that he will enable me to use arguments in this chapter to prove effective in the minds of my readers, so as to induce them to co-operate with me to produce another state of things. In these days there is much said about education; it has at last arrested the attention of parliament; and through them, the government, and, as it should be, through the government, the sovereign. Thus is truly encouraging and will act as a stimulus to practical men to develop a system workable in all its parts, and thus carry out the views and benevolent intentions of the legislature. Infant education, however, must be the basis, this is beginning at the right end; if errors are committed here the superstructure is of little avail. The foundation of moral training must be laid in infancy, it cannot be begun too soon, and is almost always commenced too late. Mere infants can understand the doing as they would be done by; no child likes to be deprived of its play-things, his little toys, or any thing which he considers his property; he will always punish the aggressor if he can, and if he cannot he will cry, or put himself in a passion, or seek aid from his parents, or any other source where he thinks he may get justice done to him. Little children have beautiful ideas on this subject, and would have, if properly trained, correct notions as to the rights of property; to teach them to respect the property of others, and even to respect themselves, is far preferable to cramming their memories with good rules in theory; this was the old plan; we have proof that it has not worked well. The new plan must operate upon the will, it must influence the heart of the child; this is the Scripture plan, which continually refers to the heart, and not so much to the head. Every opportunity must be allowed the child to develop its character; to do this it must be associated with its fellows; if the child is a solitary being, his faculties cannot be drawn out, it is in society only they can be beneficially acted upon, and it is in the company of its fellows, that it will shew its true character and disposition; hence the necessity of moral training. There should be temptations placed within reach of the children, such as fruits, flowers, and shrubs. The child taught to respect these will set due bounds to his desire, gardens will cease to be robbed, hedges will not be broken down, turnips and potatoes will not be stolen to the extent which is but too prevalent in the present day. And I am perfectly convinced that every pound the country spends in promoting a rightly directed education, will be saved in the punishment of crime, which in a political point of view, is quite sufficient to induce the country to call for a properly directed system of national education, which must ultimately be based on the oracles of eternal truth. If these ends could be obtained by theory, we have plenty of that in these days. All the writers on education tell us that such and such things should be done, but most of them that I have read, forget to tell us how to do it. They complain of the schools already in existence, they complain of the teachers, they complain of the apathy upon the subject; all of which is very easy. And I regret to say there is but too much cause for all these complaints; but this will not remedy the evil, we must have new plans for moral training; teachers must have greater encouragements held out to them; they must take their proper rank in society, which I contend is next to the clergy; and, until these things take place, we may go on complaining, as talented men will sooner devote themselves to any profession rather than to the art of teaching.
We will now endeavour to show how these things are to be remedied, so far as moral training is applicable to infants from twelve months old to six or seven years. In another part of this work, we have shewn what may and ought to be done in the play-ground; in this chapter we will endeavour to shew what may be done to this end in the school-room. In the pages on gallery teaching we have given specimens of lessons on natural objects and scriptural subjects. Moral training may receive considerable aid from gallery teaching also; the children must not only be continually told what they ought to do, but as often what they ought not to do; they must be told that they are not to fight, and the reasons must be given; they must be told that they are not to throw stones, and also told the consequences; they must be told not to strike each other with sticks; they must be told not to play in the dirt; they must be trained in cleanly and delicate habits; they must not only be told all these things; but they must be watched in their private hours, they must be encouraged to assist and love each other, and it must _be proved_ to them that this is the way to advance their own individual happiness. It is self-love that is the cause of half our miseries. Children cannot be told this too soon; it must be explained _and proved_ to them that evil, sooner or latter, brings its own punishment, and that goodness as assuredly brings its own reward. Opportunities will be continually developing themselves for giving moral training to the children, the judicious teacher will seize these as they occur, and always make the best of them for the good of the children. A school is a family upon a large scale; nay, ’tis a commonwealth, and no day will pass without facts shewing themselves, to enable the teacher to give sound moral instruction. It is true we want a better race of teachers, but we must have a better sort of schools first; for it is only from these that a better race of teachers can be supplied. The well trained infants of this generation, will make the efficient teachers of the next.
We will suppose the children to be seated in the gallery, the doors of the school closed, and every thing snug and quiet; _the teacher must be alone_, and there must be nothing to distract the children’s attention. He must then bring out his store of facts which he has noted down as they occurred; he makes his selection according to circumstances, according to the state of his own mind; not forgetting the state of mind that the children may be in, and especially the state of the weather. The following little ditty may then be repeated, the subject being On Cruelty to Animals.
I’ll never hurt my little dog,
But stroke and pat his head;
I love to see him wag his tail,
I like to see him fed.
Poor little thing, how very good
And very useful too;
And do you know? that he will mind What he is bid to do.
Then I will never hurt my dog,
Nor ever give him pain,
But I will always treat him kind,
And he will love again.
If the children do not appear so bright as the teacher should desire, the before-mentioned ditty, after it has been repeated, may be sung. But the tune must be such as would be likely to operate upon the moral feelings; great caution and circumspection is necessary in selecting proper times for children, and this must be guided by the subject treated of. If the subject is exhilarating, a lively tune must be selected; if the subject is serious, a corresponding tune must also be chosen; but if the subject is intended to operate upon the feelings, what is usually called “_a love tune_” will be the most desirable. The tune having been sung, and the feelings operated upon as desired, the teacher may entertain the little pupils with some one of the numerous stories written about the dog. But before he does this, he must exhaust so much of the subject as appears in the before-mentioned ditty, by question and answer, similar to the other lessons mentioned before, something like the following:–
Little children; you have just sung that you would never hurt a little dog, can you tell me why not? Some of the children will be sure to say, Please, sir, because he has got the sense of feeling. Teacher. Right, a little dog has got the same sense of feeling as you little children have, and when it is hurt, how does it shew that it has got the sense of feeling? Children. Please, sir, it will cry out. Teacher. Yes, it can only tell us it is hurt by doing so. A poor dog cannot speak, and so we should never hurt it. Has a little fly the sense of feeling? Children. Yes, sir. Teacher. Right again, and so has every creature that God gave life to, and we should never give any of them unnecessary pain. In the song that we have just sung, you said you would stroke and pat the little dog’s head. What would you do this for? Children. Please, sir, the little dog likes it, and he is not afraid of us when we do it, but loves us. Teacher. So he does, and will always love those that are kind to him; no one but a very bad boy would be unkind to a dog. You told me, little children, that a poor little dog cries out when it is hurt. Now when he is pleased, what does he do? Please, sir, he wags his tail, and his eyes look very bright. Teacher. So he does, which is the same as if he said, How happy I am to be with such good children who do not beat me as some wicked boys and girls would, but love me and pat my head, and feed me; for you, little children, you have said you liked to see your little dog fed, and remember, any of you that have a little dog, or who may have one when you get older and larger, that it is very cruel not to see it fed every day; the poor dog cannot ask for its dinner as a little child can, and that is the, very reason why we should always remember to give it to him. Will you all remember this? Children. Yes, sir, we will. Teacher. You sung in your song that the dog was very useful, tell me how? Children, Please, sir, he will mind the house, and bark when any one comes to steal anything. Teacher. Yes, you see how sensible the little dog is, he knows what a wicked thing it is to be a thief, and so he barks when he sees one. How else is a little dog useful? Children. Please, sir, they often lead poor blind people about. Teacher. So they do, and good faithful guides they are. When they see any danger they will lead their master out of it, and they will bring him safely through the crowded streets; and when they go home the poor blind man divides his bit of bread with his good dog; and dogs are useful in other ways, they catch hares and rabbits for their masters, and do many other things. You said also that the dog minded what he was bid to do, did you not? Children. Yes, sir, and they will often go back a long way for any thing they are bid, or stay all day minding their master’s coat while he is at work. Teacher. Right, and little children when they will not do as they are desired are not so good as a little dog, and should take example by one. Do you remember what you said the dog would do if you treated him kindly? Children. Please, sir, that he would love us again. Teacher. Right. When we love any thing, a dog, or a horse, or a little lamb, it will love us again; for you know, little children, that love makes love, and if you all love one another, and are kind to one another, and never beat or strike each other with any thing, then you will all be very happy, no little children in the world will be more happy, or have prettier smiling faces than you will have; for when we look kind and pleasant we always look pretty, but when we look cross and angry, then we look ugly and frightful. Remember then, never be cruel to a dog, or any thing else, but think of this lesson, and the pretty song we sung. Now, little children, shall I tell you a story, a real true story about a very cruel boy? If the children say, Yes, the following may be related.
A poor little dog was once going along the streets of a town, and a carriage which was coming up the street very fast, ran over it, and the poor thing was very nearly killed, but it had still strength to crawl over to a house where a boy was standing at the door, and it began to whine and looked up in the boy’s face, as if to say, you see how much I am hurt, so please take me in and try and cure me; but the boy was a very cruel boy, and had no pity on the poor dog, but took a large pot of boiling water and threw it over the poor wounded little dog, so that it died soon after in very dreadful pain. But the chief governor of the place, that is, the person whom the king had put there to punish wicked people, heard of what a cruel thing this bad boy had done. So he brought him up to the market place, and he made a man take off this cruel boy’s clothes, and lash him on the bare back before all the people of the town, in order that he might know a little of the pain that the poor dog had felt. From this story, little children, you may learn, that you must not begin to be cruel, if you do, the habit will grow up with you as it did with this bigger boy, and will never leave you, even when you are men.
Such lessons as these, given at proper times and when the infant mind is in a fit state to receive them, will do more to prevent what you wish to avoid, than any thing which could be possibly done at a more advanced age; this is indeed moral training, and when such is given generally in infant schools, we may look forward to a generation very superior to the present, in the genuine parts of Christianity, and in every moral and social virtue.
The beneficial results of moral training have been practically shown in every infant school where the subject has been properly understood and carried out, and numerous anecdotes illustrative of its beneficial effects might be here introduced, which would convince those who have any doubt on the subject, of the good effects of exercising kindness and consideration for others, in opposition to reckless mischief, hardheartedness, and cruelty, vices which render the lower orders dangerous and formidable; but as a complete collection of such anecdotes would form in themselves a volume, we will for the present lay before our readers a few taken at random, to illustrate the subject; they are from the appendix of the first report of the Edinburgh Infant School Society, the model school of which was organized by the author of this book.
“Two of the children, brothers, about five and four years of age, coming one morning late into school, were to go to their seats without censure, if they could give an account of what they had been doing, which should be declared satisfactory by the whole school, who should decide; they stated separately that they had been contemplating the proceedings of a large caterpillar, and noticing the different positions of its body as it crossed their path, that it was now horizontal, and now perpendicular, and presently curved, and finally inclined, when it escaped into a tree. The master then asked them abruptly, Why did you not kill it? The children stared. _Could_ you have killed it? asked the teacher. Yes, but that would have been cruel and naughty, and a sin against God. The little moralists were acquitted by acclamation; having, infants as they were, manifested a character which, were it universal in the juvenile population, would in another generation reduce our moral code to a mass of waste paper, in one grand department of its bulk.
“This anecdote illustrates the good effect of inculcating into the infant mind an abhorrence of cruelty to animals, which is too often a seed sown in the young heart, which goes on increasing daily with the growth of the child, until a fearful career of crime is ended by murder, and its necessary expiation on the scaffold. How many men who have suffered death for murder, could date their first steps towards it, from the time when in infancy they tortured a fly, or spun a cock-chaffer.
“The teacher mentioned to the children one day, that he had been occupied about a boy and a girl who had no father or mother, and whose grandfather and grandmother, who took care of them, were bed-rid and in great poverty. The boy was seven years of age, too old for the infant school, but some gentlemen, he said, were exerting themselves to get the boy into one of the hospitals. Here he purposely stopped to try the sympathies of his audience for the girl. He was not disappointed, several little voices called out at once, ‘_Oh! master!_ What for no the lassie too?’ he assured them the girl was to come to the infant school, and to be boarded there; which intelligence was received with loud plaudits.”
Here we see the seeds of philanthropy sown in the young mind, beginning, even in infancy, to burst and blossom forth, giving promise in after years of a glorious and abundant harvest. The germ of love and mercy is in every breast, and cannot fail to be developed, if early called into action; and by the blessing of Almighty God, who is the great First Cause of all good results, the day is fast approaching, yea, is now at hand, when the fierce passions, the love of self, the long catalogues of debasing crimes, which have so long disgraced human nature, will give way before a golden age of true Christianity; when man will not be arrayed against his fellow-men, but all will go hand in hand together in the bond of love, seeking to do good, and to accomplish the purposes for which they were created by an all-wise and all-benevolent God.
The following anecdote illustrates the subject still further:–
“One day, when the children were in the play-ground, four boys occupied the boys’ circular swing, while a stranger gentleman was looking on with the teacher. Conscious of being looked at, the little fellows were wheeling round with more than usual swiftness and dexterity, when a little creature of two or three years made a sudden dart forward into their very orbit, and in an instant must have been knocked down with great force. With a presence of mind and consideration, and with a mechanical skill,–which to admire most we knew not, one of the boys, about five years old, used the instant of time in which the singular movement was practicable, threw his whole body into a horizontal position, and went clear over the infant’s head. But this was not all; in the same well employed instant it occurred to him that that movement was not enough to save the little intruder, as he himself was to be followed as quick as thought by the next swinger; for this he provided, by dropping his own feet to the ground, and stopping the whole machine the instant he had cleared the child’s head. The spectator of this admirable specimen of intellect and good feeling, which was all necessarily the thought and act of a moment, had his hand instinctively in his pocket for a shilling, but was stopped by the teacher, who disowns all inferior motives for acts of kindness and justice. The little hero, however, had his reward, for the incident was related by the teacher in a full school, in the presence of the strangers, and was received with several rounds of hearty applause.”
We will quote another anecdote illustrative of the good effects of exercising the kindly feelings.
J.J. accused H.S. of having eaten up J.J.’s dinner. It was proved by several witnesses that H.S. not only appropriated the dinner, but used force: the charge being proved to the satisfaction of the _jury_ (the whole school), the same tribunal were requested by the teacher to decide what should be the consequence to the convict. One orator rose, and suggested that as H.S. had not yet eat his own dinner, he ought to give it to J.J. This motion, for the children always welcome any reasonable substitute for corporal punishment, was carried by acclamation. When one o’clock came, and the dinner was handed over, “_coram publico_,” to J.J., H.S. was observed by him to be in tears, and lingering near his _own_ dinner. They were by this time nearly done, but the teacher was watching the result. The tears were too much for J.J., who went to H.S., threw his arms round his neck, told him not to cry, but to sit down and take half. This invitation was of course accepted by H.S., who manifested a great inferiority of character to the other, and furnished an example of the blindness of the unjust to the justice of retribution, which they always feel to mere revenge and cruelty. He could not bear to see J.J. even sharing _his_ dinner, and told him with bitterness that he would tell his mother. “Weel, weel!” said the generous child, “I’ll gin y’d a’ back again.” Of course the teacher interfered to prevent this gross injustice, and in the afternoon made their school-fellows perfectly aware of the part each had acted. It is not easy to render a character like H.S. liberal, but a long course of such practice, for precept is impotent in such cases, might modify what in after life would have turned out a selfish, unjust, and unsocial character.
This selfish principle it is the great object of moral training to combat against. We may trace almost all the misery in the world to it; and until it ceases to exist to the extent which it now does, little can be done to accomplish any good or great purpose. But lessons like the above, and received into the infant mind when in a receptive state, will, if proper advantage be taken of their occurrence, prove in the hands of the Almighty a powerful engine for the removal of selfishness; and we know of no method so effectual to accomplish this object as the drawing infants into societies, which is done only in infant schools.
The following anecdote, bearing on the same subject, came under the observation of the author of this work, very early in his labour for the extension of his system. He gives it here in the same words as he communicated it to a friend at the time of its occurrence.
A few days since I went to the Boston Street school; the children were in the gallery, and the moment I entered, they rose to receive me. When the school was over, the children came around me, as they usually do, saying, When will you come again? and so on. I told them I could not tell, but that I would come as soon as I could. This answer would not satisfy them, and I talked to them until near six o’clock in the evening. One little girl, about four years old, kept looking stedfastly at me the whole time, not letting a single word or gesture escape her notice. At last I finished my observations, and desired the children to go. The infant in question immediately took hold of my hand, and said, “We shall never see you any more, you must come home with me.” I replied, “What do you want me to go home for?” The child answered, “I have nothing to give you, but if you will come home mother will give you some tea.” I patted the child on the head, telling it I could not go. The child went home, as I thought, and I remained some time talking to one of the ladies of the committee. On walking down the street I saw the same child crying bitterly, and surrounded by many other children. On inquiring the cause, I received for answer, “_You would not come home to tea_.” If only one half the invitations that are given amongst _men_ were given with as much sincerity and disinterestedness as was manifested by this _infant_, I am much mistaken if we should not see a very different state of _society_.
“Moral education,” writes Mr. Simpson in his “Philosophy of Education,” “embraces both the animal and moral impulses. It regulates the former, and strengthens the latter, whenever gluttony, indelicacy, violence, cruelty, greediness, cowardice, pride, insolence, vanity, or any mode of selfishness shew themselves in the individual under training, one and all must be repressed with the most watchful solicitude, and the most skilful treatment. Repression may at first fail to be accomplished, unless by severity; but the instructor sufficiently enlightened in the faculties, will, in the first practicable moment, drop the coercive system, and awaken and appeal powerfully to the higher faculties of conscience and benevolence, and to the powers of reflection: this, done with kindness, in other words, with a marked manifestation of benevolence itself, will operate with a power, the extent of which in education is yet, to a very limited extent, estimated. In the very exercise of the superior faculties the inferior are indirectly acquiring a habit of restraint and regulation; for it is morally impossible to cultivate the superior faculties without a simultaneous though indirect regulation of the inferior.”
It is indeed a melancholy truth, that moral training is yet, to a very limited extent, estimated, and this is mainly owing to its not being understood by the generality of those selected for the office of teachers of infants, nor can it be expected that persons of sufficient intellect and talent to comprehend and carry out this great object, can be procured, until a sufficient remuneration is held out to them, to make it worth their while to devote their whole energies to the subject. It is a fatal error to suppose that mere girls, taken perhaps from some laborious occupation, and whose sum total of education consists of reading and writing, can carry out views which it requires a philosophical mind, well stored with liberal ideas and general knowledge, to effect. They may be able to instruct the children in the mere mechanical part of the system; and as long as they confine themselves to this, they will go on capitally, but no further than this can they go; and though the children may appear to a casual visitor, to be very nicely instructed, and very wonderful little creatures, on a closer examination they will be found mere automatons; and then, without a thought on the subject, the system will be blamed, without once considering that the most perfect figure of mechanism will not work properly in any hands, except those that thoroughly understand it.
Enough may have now been said on this subject, and my earnest prayer is, that by God’s help, these remarks may produce beneficial results; and if my endeavours to make the subject of moral instruction more easily understood, and to demonstrate its importance as clearly as possible are successful, the results will soon shew me that the hard labour of three-and-thirty years has not been entirely in vain, and this will be to me a greater reward than all the praise, distinction, and honour that it is in man’s power to confer.
Whenever an infant is detected in any of those animal impulses, to regulate which is the great end of moral training, a gallery lesson should be immediately given, having a tendency to excite an abhorrence of the fault on the minds of all the children. An opportunity of this description should never be let pass. These are the very best times to implant virtuous and moral sentiments in the minds of the young pupils. These are the golden opportunities of bringing into action the higher faculties of conscience and benevolence, and the powers of reflection.
If an instance of the too prevalent cruelty of the young to animals be detected, which often occurs from mere thoughtlessness, it may be prevented from again occurring by a few lessons like the one which we have given as a specimen. The same means may be taken for crushing the rudiments of gluttony, violence, pride, deceit, or any other vice. The gallery is the proper place for these lessons; and after the matter has been thoroughly _sifted_ in the play-ground, or wherever else it has occurred, the children should then be marched to the gallery, to receive a proper instruction on the subject. Cruelty, on the part of boys, is too prevalent; it is energy, enterprise, and high animal spirit, not legislated for on the part of parents and teachers, which descends to cruelty, first to animals, then to all which has life, that cannot defend itself. Children soon learn to distinguish those children and animals, who can, and will, resent cruelty, from those who will not; and therefore, speculate on the results accordingly, and become self-taught up to this point. A child should never be without a kind and wise guide at this period; that which in itself descends to evil, for the want of a moral guide, may be turned to good. The faculties mentioned, cannot be extinguished, but can be regulated. This is the office of the teacher. Too frequently we try to crush the powers that early want training and regulating. The same powers which run to vice, may be trained to virtue, but the activities cannot, and ought not, to be kept too much in abeyance.
Children are not naturally cruel, although they differ much in the propensity to annoy and reduce animals and each other under their individual control; the passive submit at once, but the energetic will not; it is then that the active assailant learns an important lesson, which can only be learned in society, and which to him, is of great importance. The difficulty on the part of the teacher, is to know when to interfere, and when to let alone. I have often erred by interference, of this I am quite satisfied; the anxiety to prevent evil, has caused me to interfere too soon, by not giving time to the pupil fully to develops his act. I hope others will profit from this; it requires much practice and long study of different temperaments, in children, to know when to let alone and when to interfere; but certain it is, that the moral faculties can and must be developed, in any system worthy of the name of education. Other vices beside cruelty are to be found in children. Moral training applies to these, and none are left to run their own course. Why should they? What are schools for? but to form the virtuous character–the being who can command self control–the orderly character, the good citizen, and, the being who fears and loves God. Ends less than these, cannot be worthy of the efforts of the philanthropist and the truly religious man.
There is another idea which has long been in my mind, and which I hope some day to see carried into practice, viz., a Religious Service adapted for children, in our various places of worship. No accurate observer of the young in churches during divine service, can have failed to witness the inattention of the numbers of children who are assembled on such occasions. The service is too long and inappropriate for them, as is also the sermon. It is addressed to adults, and sometimes the terms used by the preacher, is Greek to half the adults, in agricultural districts. Men cannot be too simple with the young and illiterate; there is much room for improvement in these things, and with regard to the young, I can answer for them that, if they are addressed in proper language, which they can understand, and are supplied with proper religious food for the understanding, suitable to its state of receptivity, and, if I may say, digestive powers; they, as a body, will shew us an example which will surprise many. With regard to the Church, there might be taken from the Prayer Book, a simple service adapted to the purpose. I am certain I could do it with ease, as I know what is adapted for children, or at least I ought to do. The next point, all the preachers should be men of peculiar temperament and great simplicity of manner. I do not care how learned they are; the more learned, the better; but it, need not be in languages but in spiritual things. There are thousands of passages in the Holy Word which are adapted, and I think, intended for the purpose, and there are many men now living who are able to do the thing, and more will be raised up. One thing, however, must not be forgotten, they must be _men advanced_ in life, not _lads_. To teach natural things properly to children, requires more knowledge than the generality of the public suppose. The younger the children are, the more knowledge it requires on the part of the instructor. But to teach spiritual things properly to children, men cannot know too much, provided they have the power to simplify that knowledge and reduce it to practice. An evening service will not do for children, it must be either in the morning or the middle of the day. So fully am I impressed with the importance of this idea, that I am determined shortly to take means to carry it out.
CHAPTER X.
REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS.
_Necessity of some punishment–Rewards to Monitors–Trial by Jury–Illustrative case–Necessity of firmness–Anecdotes–Playing the truant–Its evils–Means for prevention–Devices for punishment–Sympathy encouraged–Evil of expelling children–Case of Hartly–Difficulty of legislating for rewards and punishments–Badge of distinction not necessary_.
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How does the Deity deal with His creatures, on this momentous question? This is the question which every thinker–and every religious man, must ask himself; and then, act accordingly.
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As man comes into the world with a propensity to do that which is forbidden, it has been found necessary at all times, to enact laws to govern and even to punish him, when he acts contrary to them; and who will deny the man a just reward who has done any act whereby his fellow-men have been benefitted? “The hope of reward sweetens labour.” If, then, rewards and punishments are necessary to make _men_ active, and to keep them in order, how can it be expected that children can be governed without some kind of punishment? I am aware that I am taking the unpopular side of the question, by becoming an advocate for punishment, but notwithstanding this, I must say, that I think no school in England has ever been governed without it; and that the many theories ushered into the world, on this subject, have not been exactly acted upon. And since this was written I am in a position to state the same with regard to both Scotland and Ireland. Indeed, it appears to me, that while men continue to be imperfect beings, it is not possible that either they or their offspring, can be governed without some degree of punishment. I admit that it should be administered with great prudence, and never employed but as a last resource; and I am sorry to say, that it has descended to brutality in some schools, which, perhaps, is one reason why so many persons set their faces against it altogether. I might write as others have done, by stating that I had brought up a family of my own without ever having struck even once any of my children, but then this is no argument for the general conducting of a school; in school, children are spoiled before they come to you, in a family the judicious parent begins at the beginning, the cases therefore entirely differ.
The first thing that appears to me necessary, is to find out, if possible, the real disposition and temper of a child, in order to be able to manage it with good effect. I will allow that it is possible to govern some children without corporal punishment, for I have had some under my charge whom I never had occasion to punish, to whom a word was quite sufficient, and who, if I only looked displeased, would burst into tears. But I have had others quite the reverse; you might talk to them till you were tired, and it would produce no more effect half an hour afterwards, than if they had not been spoken to at all. Indeed, children’s dispositions are as various as their faces; no two are alike; consequently, what will do for one child will not do for another; and hence the impropriety of having an invariable mode of punishment. What should we think of a medical man who was to prescribe for every constitution in the same manner? The first thing a skilful physician does, is to ascertain the constitution of the patient, and then he prescribes accordingly; and nothing is more necessary for those who have charge of little children, than to ascertain their real character. Raving done this, they will be able, should a child offend, to apply some appropriate antidote.
To begin with rewards: to the monitors I have generally allowed one penny a week each, as I found much difficulty in procuring monitors; for, whatever honours were attached to the office, children of five years old could not exactly comprehend them. They could much more easily perceive the use of a penny; and as a proof how much they valued the penny a week above all the honours that could be bestowed, I always had a good supply of monitors after this remuneration was adopted. Before this time, they used to say, “Please, sir, may I sit down? I do not like to be a monitor.” Perhaps I might prevail on some to hold the office a little longer, by explaining to them what an honourable office it was: but after all, I found that the penny a week spoke more powerfully than I did, and the children would say to each other, “I like to be a monitor now, for I had a penny last Saturday; and master says, we are to have a penny every week; don’t you wish you were a monitor?” “Yes, I do; and master says, if I am a good boy, I shall be a monitor by and bye, and then I shall have a penny.” I think they richly deserve it. Some kind of reward I consider necessary, but what kind of reward, must, of course, rest entirely with the promoters of the different schools.[A]
[Footnote A: In many of the infant schools I hull visited, I found the spelling and reading very much neglected, that neither the monitors nor children look at the lessons, but merely say them by rote; if the monitors are punished for inattention they wish to give up the office, because there is no reward attached to it; but if there is a reward attached to it of any kind, the children have sense enough to see that the thing is fairly balanced, for if they are rewarded for doing their duty they see no injustice in being punished for neglecting it.]
Perhaps nothing would tend more to the order and efficient conducting of an infant school, than the plan of giving rewards to the monitors. From the part they take in teaching and superintending others, it seems due to them,–for the labourer is worthy of his hire. If we are to make use of monitors at all, I am now convinced that they _must_ be rewarded; parents do not like their children to work for nothing, and when they become useful, they are taken away entirely, unless rewarded. The training system uses monitors only in that which is purely mechanical; or, to infuse into the external memory that which is to be learned by rote, singly or simultaneously, by the pupils, such as chapters out of the Scriptures, catechisms, creeds, poetry, psalms, hymns, prayers, and commandments, and whatever is (as it is called) to be learned by heart, but to develope the faculties of the pupils–to really teach religion, morals, intellectuals, or anything which applies to the interior of the pupils, they are useless.
A most important means of discipline appears in what we term “trial by jury,” which is composed of all the children in the school. It has been already stated that the play-ground is the scene for the full development of character, and, consequently, the spot where circumstances occur which demand this peculiar treatment. It should also be particularly observed, that it is next to prayer in solemnity, and should only be adopted on extraordinary occasions. Any levity manifested either by the teacher or the pupils will be fatal to the effect. But to illustrate it, I will state a fact. In the play-ground of an Infant School there was an early dwarf cherry-tree, which, from its situation, had fruit, while other trees had only flowers. It became, therefore, an object of general attention, and ordinarily called forth a variety of important observations. Now it happened that two children, one five years of age, and the other not quite three, entered the school in the autumn, and on the return of spring, they, having had only a winter’s training, were charmed by this object, and in consequence fell into temptation. Accustomed to watch new scholars narrowly, I particularly observed them; when I marked the elder one anxiously, intently, and wishfully gazing on the fruit, and especially on one amazingly large cherry pendent from a single shoot. While thus absorbed, the younger child was attracted to the spot, and imitated his example. The former then asked if he did not think it a large one, and the reply was of course, in the affirmative. Having thus addressed the powers of observation, the next appeal was to the taste, by the inquiry, “Is not it a nice one?” The answer to which was, “Yes.” Then followed the observation, “It is quite soft,” when the young one, being thus excited by the touch of the other, touched it also. This act, he subsequently repeated, by desire of the elder, who, having charged him to hold it tight, struck his hand, and thus detached the cherry. I now withdrew to some distance, and it was evident that the little one was distressed by what he had done, as he did not eat it, but began to cry faintly, on which the elder took the cherry out of his hand, and ate it. This increased the crying, when, on approaching, he ran up to me, saying that the other took my cherry. The little one continuing to cry, the other stated that he saw him take it; to which I replied, “We will try him by and bye.” As soon, therefore, as the proper time arrived, the bell was rung; prior to which, however, I was apprised of the loss by several children, and when all were seated in the gallery, I proceeded as follows “Now, little children, I want you to use all your faculties, to look at me attentively, and to think of what I am about to say, for I am going to tell you a tale of two little boys. Once on a time they were amusing themselves with a great many other children in a play-ground, where there was a great many flowers and some fruit trees. But before I go on, let me ask you is it right to take the flowers or fruit which belong to others?” to which the general reply was “No,” with the exception of the culprits. I then described their age, stated that one boy was five years old, and the other three; that the former was looking at one of his master’s fine cherries, which was growing against the wall, and that the latter approached, and looked at it too; on which several exclaimed, “Please, sir, your big cherry is gone;” which caused an inspection of each others’ countenances. To this, I replied, “I am sorry for it, but let me finish my tale. Now, children, while they were both looking at the cherry, the older one asked the younger if it were not large, to which he replied, ‘Yes;’ he then inquired, whether it were not nice, when he again answered, ‘Yes;’ afterwards, be told him, having touched it himself first, to touch it because it was soft, and the little boy unfortunately did so, on which the big one pulled his arm, and the cherry came off in his hand.” While this was proceeding, the two delinquents sat very demurely, conscious that they were pourtrayed, though all the rest were ignorant of the fact. I then said, “Which do you think the worst of these boys?” when several answered, “The biggest was the worst.” On inquiring, “Why?” the reply was, “Because he told the little one to take it;” while others said, “Because he pulled his arm.” I added, “I have not told you the whole tale yet, but I am glad to see that you know right from wrong, and presently you will be still better prepared to judge. When the big boy had told the little one to take the cherry, he then robbed him of it, and immediately betrayed him by telling the master. Now which do you think was the worst?” When a great number of voices vociferated, “The big one.” I then inquired, if they thought we had such children in our school? the general reply was ‘No;’ but the scrutiny among themselves was redoubled. To this I rejoined, “I am sorry to say such children are now sitting among you in the gallery.” At this crisis the little one burst into tears, on which the children said, “Please, sir, that’s one of them, for his face is so red, and he cries.” I answered, “I am sorry it is so,” and called the culprit down with “Come here, my dear, and sit by the side of me until we examine into it.” This was followed by the outcry, “Please, sir, we have found the other, he hangs his head down, and his face looks so white.”
This child was then called down in the same mild manner to sit on the other side of me. I then told them, that they would find, when they became men and women, that in our courts of law, witnesses of what was done were called, and as the elder boy had seen the young one take the cherry, it was necessary and desireable to hear what he had to say. On being desired to stand up, I therefore said, “Did you see him take the cherry?” To which he promptly replied, “Yes.” The next inquiry was, “What did he do with it?” To this he was silent, on which the little one, not being able to contain himself, called out, “He took it from me, and ate it.” All eyes were now turned to the big one, and all felt convinced that he was the most guilty, whilst the confidence of the little one increased by the prospect of having justice done him, as he previously feared that being accused by the elder one, he should be condemned without ceremony.
Finding that the elder one had no more to say, it only remained to hear the defence of the young one, who, sensible of having done what was wrong, said, in broken accents, “He told me to take it,–he hit my hand,–and he ate the cherry.” To which it was necessary to give the admonition, That he never ought to do wrong, though required to do so by others; and that such a defence would avail him nothing were he a man. Both the children were now exceedingly distressed, and hence this was the time to appeal to the rest, as to the measure of the punishment that was due. The general opinion was, that the eldest should be punished, but no one mentioned that the young one should even have a pat on the hand; the next thing was to appeal to the higher faculties of the little culprit, who, seeing that he had thus far got off, required to be softened down in reference to the other, though he had betrayed him, while the best way of operating on the elder was a display of love on the part of the younger; he was therefore asked if he would forgive the other, and shake hands with him, which he immediately did, to the evident delight and satisfaction of all the children, while the countenance of the elder showed that he felt himself unworthy of the treatment he received. I then inflicted the sentence which had been pronounced,–two pats of the hand, which the girls asked might be soft ones, and sent him to his seat, while I concluded the whole with some appropriate exhortations. It is pleasing to add that the elder proved one of the most useful monitors I ever had.[A]
[Footnote A: This mode of treatment has succeeded in a number of instances, several first-rate writers on education have tried it, and have found it work well; it is one of the most effective methods to operate upon the minds of young children that I have been able to discover: I have tried the plan with older children with great success. Reader! can teachers, who are mere boys and girls, act thus, in such a case?]
Should any person be disposed to object to such a process, they may be reminded that the Infant System deals with children as rational creatures, and is designed to prepare them for future life. I have seen numerous instances of its beneficial effects? these have induced me to pursue the plan, and in the strongest terms to recommend it to others. In all cases, the matter should be stated to the children simply, calmly, and slowly, and they will seldom, if ever, come to a wrong conclusion.
A manual trade, or a business, which requires dexterity can never be learnt from books alone, or properly understood from mere precepts. All must be acquired by practice, and then the knowledge of it becomes, as it were, a part of our very selves. The same applies to the precepts of morality. If they be merely committed to memory by rote, they will often lie there cold and inactive, and not unfrequently tend even to harden the feelings. But when they are brought out into actual practice, and made to bear upon the conscience of the culprit, and on the moral feelings of all the children through him, they are seen in a new and convincing light, and learnt with a power that will impress them indelibly on the memory. “Nathan said unto David, Thou art the man.” The most effectual teaching of a christian parent is not at the time of the mere infusion of moral truth into a child’s mind, but in the example he gives in his life, and the direction he gives according to it to his child when he “walks by the way” and when he “sits in the house.” Such should be the teaching aimed at in every infant school. How wise are the dealings of the creator with us on the subject of reward. What being ever yet did good, who did not feel within a certain reward? Who felt most of the influence of the Holy Spirit? the passers by,–or the good Samaritan? Nay! who felt the greatest reward in his own breast, the Samaritan himself, or the man who fell amongst thieves? I think the Samaritan. Throughout all creation we see rewards; for assiduity, “the early crow gets the worms; the cautious animal escapes his enemies; the good man enjoys the most happiness; out of goodness happiness cannot be found;–virtue brings its own reward;” obedience to the natural laws does the same, so does obedience to the spiritual laws bring such rewards as my pen cannot describe, but, I doubt not, many have felt them. The whole system of society appears to me to depend upon this stimulant. Who would wish to be the heads of the church and take the additional responsibilites and labours attached to them without reward? Who would accept the office, the weighty office of being Her Majesty’s ministers without reward? I might go on in this strain of reasoning and prove that rewards are founded in knowledge of human nature; but I am content to skew we have some ground for them, they are useful, if not essential, in the right management of the young, but, like every thing else, require to be managed judiciously. It appears to me that the argument to the contrary would be untenable. I should like to see the man who would invest his capital in railways–electric telegraphs, steam ships, and in business of any kind, without hope of reward, pooh! it is the mainspring of human action, the incentive to public service, it rests not in this world but follows us to the next, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy Lord.” Ah! but this refers to men, not to children. What are children but men in embryo? Why be unjust to them, and just to man. I say rewards are necessary in a sound system of education to little children; if judiciously selected and properly applied, they will be found incentives to action, and add greatly to the pleasure of learning. In my other work for the education of older children, this subject is treated of more at length as applicable to them.
With regard to punishments, they are various, and must be adapted to the disposition of the child. The only corporal punishment that we inflict is a pat on the hand, which is very of great service in flagrant cases of misconduct. For instance, I have seen one child bite another’s arm, until it has almost made its teeth meet. I should suppose few persons are prepared to say, such a child should not be punished for it. I have seen others who, when they first came to school, would begin to scream as if they were being punished, as soon as their mother brought them to the door, while the mother continued to threaten the child without ever putting one threat into execution. The origin of all this noise, has been, perhaps, because the child has demanded a half-penny, as the condition of coming to school, and the mother probably has not had one to give him, but has actually been obliged to borrow one in order to induce him to come in at the school door. Thus the child has come off conqueror, and set it down as a maxim, that, for the future, he may do just as he pleases with his mother. I have sometimes made my appearance at this time, to know what all the noise was about, when the mother has entered into a lamentable tale, telling me what trouble she has had with the child, and that he would not come to school without having a half-penny each time. But the moment the child has seen me, all has been as quiet as possible. I have desired him to give me the half-penny, which he has done directly, I have returned it to the mother, and the child has gone into school, as quietly as any child could do. I have had others who would throw their victuals into the dirt, and then lie down in it themselves, and refuse to rise up, crying, “I will go home; I want to go into the fields; I will have a half-penny.” The mother has answered, “Well, my dear, you shall have a half-penny, if you will stay at school.” “No, I want to go and play with Billy or Tommy;” and the mother at length has taken the churl home again, and thus fed his vanity and nursed his pride, till he has completely mastered her, so that she has been glad to apply to the school again, and beg that I would take him in hand.
At another time a girl came with a pillow; she had insisted on having it for a doll; but, so far from contributing to her happiness, it had a contrary effect. Nevertheless, the parent, for want of that firmness so necessary in the management of children, had allowed her to bring it to school, and on her journey she cried all the way, to the amusement of the lookers on. When I remonstrated with the mother, she replied, “What could I do? she would not come without it” The child, however, gave it up to me without any trouble, and the over _indulgent mother_ took it back with her. Numerous have been the instances of a similar kind; and all far the want of firmness.
The master of an infant school, whenever opportunity occurs, should feel it incumbent upon him to urge the parents to make a due use of judicious parental authority. This is the very foundation of all social order, rule, and government, and to relax it is to loosen the very keystone of society. He ought also perpetually to inculcate obedience to their parents upon the children, as being one of their first and most important duties. Some have objected to our schools, that they are calculated to loosen the ties and the authority between parent and child; but if these precepts are carefully attended to, the result will be precisely the reverse. It is, however, necessary to state, in the three cases just noticed, that in each, the children had been previously conquered by me, and young as they were, they knew quite well that, although such conduct as they exhibited gained the end they had in view with the parent, similar conduct would not succeed with me. It is little short of cruelty to let any child have its own way in such matters. They will always try hard to get the tipper hand, not knowing but that such conduct adds to their own happiness. When once conquered, and proof is afforded that it does not, then the children are always thankful for the discipline. At all events, I have never found it otherwise. Many, I may say numerous cases, have occurred of worse kinds than the above, such as children insisting on bringing something from home, as the bellows, tongs, poker, the mother’s bonnet, father’s hat, &c., as the condition of coming to school, which the simple parent has complied with rather than adopt the required firmness, which is essential in matters of this kind. More infants know quite well the weak and the strong points of a parent’s character, they all are excellent judges on this subject.
I found it necessary, under such circumstances, to enter into a kind of agreement with the mother, that she should not interfere in any respect whatever: that on such conditions, and such only, could the child be admitted; observing, that I should act towards it as if it were my own, but that it must and should be obedient to me; to which the mother has consented, and the child has been taken in again; and, strange to say, in less than a fortnight, has been as good, and has behaved as orderly as any child in the school. But I should deem myself guilty of duplicity and deceit, were I to say that such children, in all cases could be managed without corporal punishment, as it appears to me, that this, in moderation, has been the mode of correcting refractory children, from the earliest ages; for it is expressly said in the Scriptures, “_He that spareth his rod, hateth his son, but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes_;” and again, “_He that knoweth his Lord’s will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes_.” There is certainly something very pleasing in the sound, that several hundred infant children may be well managed, kept in good order, and corrected of their bad habits, without _any sort_ of punishment. But as I have not been able to attain to that state of perfection in the art of teaching, I shall lay before the reader what modes of punishment I have adopted, and the success that attended them.
If punishments be judiciously and justly applied, when offences require them, from the earliest periods of life, they will soon cease to be wanted. We cannot form a more important association in the young mind than one between pain and moral evil, and this judicious correction will effect. It should not be given in anger, or it will have the appearance of revenge; but if administered calmly and with feelings of sorrow and regret, it will soon exercise a mighty moral influence. The providence of God applies to us the correction of sickness, pain, and sorrow, to withdraw us from evil; and thus in His moral government, as well as in His Word, He commands us to use the rod; but always for good, and never in anger or cruelty. Recent events have proved to me that there is a mawkish sentimentality but too prevalent on this subject abroad, which interferes greatly with moral training, the proper freedom of the school-master, and even with the administration of public justice.
The first offence deserving punishment which I shall notice, is playing the truant; and I trust I may be permitted to state, that notwithstanding the children are so very young, they frequently, at first, stay away from the school, unknown to their parents; nor is this to be wondered at, when we consider how they have been permitted to range the streets, and get acquainted with other children in similar circumstances. When this is the case, they cannot be brought into order in a moment; it is a work of time, and requires much patience and perseverance to accomplish it effectually. It is well known that when we accustom ourselves to particular company, and form acquaintances, it is no easy matter to give them up; and it is a maxim, that a man is either better or worse for the company he keeps. Just so it is with children; they form very early attachments, and frequently with children whose parents will not send them to school, and care not where they are, so long as they keep out of their way. Hence such children will persuade others to accompany them, and of course they will be absent from school; but as night approaches, the child will begin to think of the consequences, and mention it to his companions; who will instruct him how to deceive both his teachers and his parents, and perhaps bring him through his trouble. This will give him fresh confidence, and finding himself successful, there will be little difficulty in persuading him to accompany them a second time. I have had children absent from school two or three half-days in a week, and sometimes whole days, who have brought me such rational and plausible excuses as completely to put me off my guard, but who have been found out by their parents from having stayed out till seven or eight o’clock at night. The parents have applied at the school to know why they kept the children so late, add have then in formed me that they have been absent all day. Thus the whole plot has been developed; it has been found that the children were sent to school at eight o’clock in the morning, and had their dinners given them to eat at school, but instead of coming they have got into company with their older companions, who, in many cases, I have found were training them up for every species of vice. Some of them have been cured of truant playing by corporal punishment, when all other means I could devise have failed, others by means the most simple, such as causing the child to hold a broom for a given time.
The most powerful punishment I have yet discovered is to insist on the child sitting still, without moving hand or foot for a given time, say half an hour at most. Long punishment always has the tendency to harden the child; he soon gets contented in his situation, and you defeat your own object.
By keeping a strict eye upon them it will be remarked, they soon begin to form an attachment with some of their own school-fellows, and ultimately become as fond of their new companions, their books, and their school, as they were before of their old companions and the streets. I need scarcely observe, how strong our attachments, formed in early years at school, are, and I doubt not but many who read this have found a valuable and real friend in a school-fellow for whom they would do any thing within their power.
There were several children in the school who had contracted some very bad habits, entirely by their being accustomed to run about the streets; and one boy in particular, only five years of age, was so frequently absent, and brought such reasonable excuses for his being so, that it was some time before I detected him. I thought it best to see his mother, and therefore sent the boy to tell her that I wished her to come. The boy soon returned, saying his mother was not at home.
The following morning he was absent again, and I sent another boy to know the reason, when the mother waited on me immediately, and assured me that she had sent the child to school. I then produced the slate which I kept for that purpose, and informed her how many days and half-days her child had been absent during the last month, when she again assured me that she had never kept the child at home for a single half-day, nor had he ever told her that I wanted to see her; at the same time observing that be must have been decoyed away by some of the children in the neighbourhood. She regretted that she could not afford to send him to school before, adding, _that the Infant School was a blessed institution, and one, she thought, much wanted in the neighbourhood_. I need scarcely add, that both the father and mother lost no time in searching for their child, and after several hours, they found him in the nearest fruit-market with several children, pretty well stored with apples, &c., which they had, no doubt, stolen from the fruit-baskets continually placed there. They brought him to the school, and informed me they had given him a good flogging, which I found to be correct from the marks that were on the child. This, they said, they had no doubt would cure him; but he was not so soon conquered, for the very next day he was absent again; and after the parents had tried every experiment they could think of, in vain, they delivered him over to me, telling me I might do what I thought proper. I tried every means I could devise with as little success, except keeping him at school after school hours; for I had a great disinclination to convert the school into a prison, as my object was, if possible, to cause the children to love the school, and I knew I could not take a more effectual method of causing them to dislike it than by keeping them there against their will. At last I tried this experiment, but to as little purpose as the others, and I was about to exclude the child altogether as incorrigible; but unwilling that it should be said a child five years old had mastered us, I at last hit upon an expedient which had the desired effect. The plan I adopted was to put him on an elevated situation within sight of all the children, so secured that he could not hurt himself. I believe it was the force of _ridicule_ that effected the cure. This I had never tried before, and I must say I was extremely glad to witness it. I never knew him absent without leave afterwards, and, what is more surprising, he appeared to be very fond of the school, and became a very good child. Was not this, then, a brand plucked from the fire?
I have been advised to dismiss twenty such children, rather than retain them by the above means; but if there be more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance, ought not such a feeling to be encouraged on earth, particularly when it can be done by means that are not injurious to the orderly, but, on the contrary, productive of the best effects? The child just mentioned afterwards went into the National School, with several others who had been nearly as bad as himself, but they scarcely ever failed to come and see me when they had a half holiday, and the master of the school told me that not one of them had ever been absent without leave, and that he had no fault to find with them. I have further to observe that the moment I perceived a bad effect produced by any method of punishment, it was relinquished. But I feel it my duty here to caution the reader against the too frequent practice of many to object. It may cost a man many years to find out what may be desirable and workable; but to become an objector requires no thought, accordingly the most thoughtless are generally the greatest objectors.
I believe that there was not a child in the school who would not have been delighted _to carry the broom_, if I had called it play; the other children might have laughed as long as they pleased, for he would have laughed as heartily as any of them, and as soon as he had done, I should have had a dozen applicants, with “Please, sir, may I? please, sir, may I?” but it was called a _punishment_, and hence I had no applications whatever; they all dreaded it as much as they would a flogging. I am aware that this plan of punishment may appear ridiculous, and perhaps it would be so to use it for older children; but with such young children I have found it to answer well, and therefore I have no wish to dispense with it. I would, however, have care taken not to encourage the children to ridicule each other while undergoing this or any other punishment, except in extraordinary cases, such as the one I have mentioned; on the contrary, we should encourage them to sympathize with and comfort a child, as soon as the punishment is over, and I can truly add, that I do not recollect a single instance when any child has been undergoing the broom punishment, but some of the others have come, and attempted to beg him off, with “Please, sir, may he sit down now?” and when asked the reason why they wished the little delinquent to be forgiven, they have answered, “May be, sir, he will be a good boy.” Their request has been complied with, and the culprit forgiven; and what have I seen follow? Why, that which has taught me an important lesson, and convinced me that _children can operate on each other’s minds, and be the means of producing very often better effects than adult people can_. I have seen them clasp the child round the neck, take him by the hand, lead him about the play-ground, comfort him in every possible way, wipe his eyes with their pinafores, and ask him if he was not sorry for what he had done. The answer has been, “Yes;” and they have flown to me with, “Master, he says he is sorry for it, and that he will not do it again.” In short, they have done that which I could not do–they have so won the child over by kindness, that it has caused the offender not only to be fond of them, but equally as fond of his master and the school. To these things I attribute the reclaiming of the children I have mentioned, and so far from punishment being productive of the “_worst effects_,” I have found it productive of the best.
The ill effects of expelling children as incorrigible may be seen in the case of Hartley, who was executed some years back. He confessed before his execution that he had been concerned in several murders, and upwards of two hundred burglaries; and by the newspaper account we learn that he was dismissed from school at nine years of age, there being no school master who would be troubled with him, when, finding himself at liberty, he immediately became a robber. “Hartley’s father” (the account proceeds), “formerly kept the Sir John Falstaff inn at Hull in Yorkshire; he was put to school in that neighbourhood, but his conduct at school was so marked with depravity, and so continually did he play the truant, that he was dismissed as unmanageable. He then, although only nine years of age, began with pilfering and robbing gardens and orchards, till his friends were obliged to send him to sea. He soon contrived to run away from the ship in which he had been placed, and having regained the land, pursued his old habits, and got connected with many of the principal thieves in London, with whom he commenced business regularly as a house-breaker, which was almost always his line of robbery.”
Should not every means have been resorted to with this child before proceeding to the dangerous mode of expulsion? for it is not the whole who need a physician, but those who are sick; and I strongly suspect that if judicious punishment had been resorted to, it would have had the desired effect. I can only say that there never was a child expelled from the infant school under my care as incorrigible.
In conclusion, I have to observe, that the broom punishment is only for extraordinary occasions, and I think we are justified in having recourse to any means that are consistent with duty and humanity, in preference to turning a child out into the wide world.
Of all the difficulties I ever had to encounter, to legislate for rewards and punishments, gave me the most trouble. How often have I seen one child laugh at that which would make another child cry. If any department in teaching requires knowledge of character more than another it is this. Many a fine child’s spirits are broken through the ignorance of teachers and parents in this particular; but for me to lay down _invariable rules_ to manage _every child_, would be like a person undertaking to describe a voyage to the moon. Every person’s own good sense must decide for them according to character and circumstances; and as to rewards, the same discrimination must be used. One child will set much value on a little book, whilst another will destroy it in a day; and though the book might be worth the sixpence, a half-penny worth of what _they_ call good stuff would be much more valuable. I have had more business done sometimes for a plum than for a sixpenny book. It is never necessary to give the child badges of _distinction_, and to allow it as many orders and degrees as an Austrian field-marshal. Crosses at the button holes, and bits of ribbon on the shoulders are unnecessary; they throw an apple of discord between the young creatures, who have sense enough to see that these things are frequently given away with a wonderous lack of discrimination, and sometimes to please parents more than reward merit. A carraway comfit put into the mouth of an infant will do more good than all the badges of distinction that I have mentioned, as a reward; but with respect to punishment, more will be said on it in my larger work, when we come to treat of National Education. Each creation of the most High is truly wonderful, and worthy of our constant study. We may learn lessons of the truest wisdom from the meanest leaf or insect, if we would regard it as one of His works. But how much more may be learnt, and what an amount of useful instruction may be gained, by a study of the finite mind, the highest work in creation. Many have turned their attention to minerals, plants, and animals, and thus added to our stores of knowledge. If equal attention had been paid to the young mind, to mark the gradual germination of its intellectual and moral powers, how much more accurate would our knowledge be of the proper methods of dealing with it both in instruction, direction, and punishment. Thus to study it has been the aim of my life, and I have made observations on thousands of children. When this great and living book is more constantly read, the contents of this humble volume may have a better chance of being appreciated; and the utter absurdity of many things palmed upon the public for the education of infants made glaringly manifest.
CHAPTER XI.
LANGUAGE.
_Means for conveying instruction–Method of teaching the alphabet in connection with objects–Spelling–Reading–Developing lessons–Reading lessons in Natural History–The Arithmeticon–Brass letters–Their uses_.
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“Without things, words, accumulated by misery in the memory, had far better die than drag out a miserable existence in the dark. Without words, theirs stay and support, things unaccountably disappear out of the storehouse, and may be lost for ever; but bind _a thing with a word_, a strong link, stronger than any steel, and softer than any silk, and the captive remains for ever happy in its bright prison-house.”–_Wilson_.
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The senses of children having revealed every object in its true light, they next desire to know its name, and then express their perceptions in words. This you have to gratify, and from the time you tell them the name of an object, it is the representative of the thing in the mind of the child; if the object be not present, but you mention the name, this suggests it to the infant mind. Had this been more frequently thought of by instructors, we should have found them less eager to make the child acquainted with the names of things of which it has no knowledge or perception. Sounds and signs which give rise to no idea in the mind, because the child has never seen or known the things represented, are of no use, and can only burden the memory. It is, therefore, the object of our system to give the children a knowledge of things, and then a knowledge of the words which represent those things. These remarks not only apply to the names of visible things, but more particularly to those which are abstract. If I would say, shew a child _a horse_, before you tell it the name of the animal, still more would I urge it on the teacher to let a child see what love, kindness, religion, &c. are, before it is told what names to designate those principles by. If our ignorance as to material things be the result of instructing the children in names, instead of enabling them to become acquainted with things, so, on the other hand, I believe we may account, in the same way to some extent, for _virtue_ being so frequently a mere word, an empty sound, amongst men, instead of an active principle.
Our next endeavour is to teach the children to express their thoughts upon things; and if they are not checked by injudicious treatment, they will have some on every subject. We first teach them to express _their notions_, we then tell them ours, and truth will prevail even in the minds of children. On this plan, it will operate by its own strength, not by the power of coercion, which renders even truth disagreeable and repulsive; the children will adopt it from choice in preference to error, and it will be firmly established in their minds.
It will no doubt be perceived, that for the promotion of the course here recommended, it will be advisable to connect with our _alphabetical and reading lessons_, as much information as we possibly can. By so doing, the tedium of the task to the child will be considerably lessened, as well as much knowledge attained. The means of doing this in a variety of ways will, no doubt, suggest themselves to the intelligent teacher; but as an illustration of what we mean, the following conversational plan may not be useless.
We have twenty-six cards, and each card has on it one letter of the alphabet, and some object in nature; the first, for instance, has the letter A on the top, and an apple painted on the bottom. The children are desired to go into the gallery, which is formed of seats, one above the other, at one end of the school. The master places himself before the children, so that they can see him, and he them, and being thus situated, proceeds in the following manner:–
A.
Q. Where am I? A. Opposite to us. Q. What is on the right side of me? A. A lady. Q. What is on the left side of me? A. A chair. Q. What is before me? A. A desk. Q. Who is before me? A. We, children. Q. What do I hold up in my hand? A. A letter A.Q. What word begins with A? A. Apple. Q. Which hand do I hold it up with? A. With the right hand. Q. Spell apple.[A] A. A-p-p-l-e. Q. How is an apple produced? A. It grows on a tree. Q. What part of the tree is in the ground? A. The root. Q. What is that which comes out of the ground? A. The stem. Q. When the stem grows up straight, what would you call its position? A. Perpendicular. Q. What are on the stem? A. Branches. Q. What are on the branches? A. Leaves. Q. Of what colour are they? A. Green. Q. Is there any thing else beside leaves on the branches? A. Yes, apples. Q. What was it before it became an apple? A. Blossom. Q. What part of the blossom becomes fruit? A. The inside. Q. What becomes of the leaves of the blossom? A. They fall off the tree. Q. What was it before it became a blossom? A. A bud. Q. What caused the buds to become larger, and produce leaves and blossom? A. The sap. Q. What is sap? A. A juice. Q. How can the sap make the buds larger? A. It comes out of the root, and goes up the stem. Q. What next? A. Through the branches into the buds. Q. What do the buds produce? A. Some buds produce leaves, some blossoms, and some a shoot. Q. What do you mean by a shoot? A. A young branch, which is green at first, but becomes hard by age. Q. What part becomes hard first? A. The bottom.
[Footnote A: It is not supposed that all or many of the children will be able to spell this or many of the subsequent words, or give such answers as we have put down. But _some_ among the older or more acute of them will soon be able to do so, and thus become instructors to the rest. It may be proper to mention also that the information in Natural History, &c. &c., displayed in some of the answers, is the result of the instructions in Natural History which the children simultaneously receive, and which is spoken of in a subsequent chapter. Mr. Golt’s simple arrangement of the Alphabet I much approve of, and no doubt it will come into general use.]
B.
Q. What is this? A. The letter B–the first letter in baker, butter, bacon, brewer, button, bell, &c., &e. [The teacher can take any of these names he pleases, for instance, the first:] Children, let me hear you spell baker. A. B-a-k-e-r. Q. What is a baker? A. A man who makes bread. Q. What is bread made of? A. It is made of flour, water, yeast, and a little salt. Q. What is flour made of? A. Wheat. Q. How is it made? A. Ground to powder in a mill. Q. What makes the mill go round? A. The wind, if it is a windmill. Q. Are there any other kinds of mills? A. Yes; mills that go by water, mills that are drawn round by horses, and mills that go by steam. Q. When the flour and water and yeast are mixed together, what does the baker do? A. Bake them in an oven. Q. What is the use of bread? A. For children to eat. Q. Who causes the corn to grow? A. Almighty God.
C.
Q. What is this? A. It is letter C, the first letter in cow, c-o-w, and cat, &c. Q. What is the use of the cow? A. The cow gives us milk to put into the tea. Q. Is milk used for any other purpose besides putting it into tea? A. Yes; it is used to put into puddings, and for many other things. Q. Name some of the other things? A. It is used to make butter and cheese. Q. What part of it is made into butter? A. The cream which swims at the top of the milk. Q. How is it made into butter? A. It is put into a thing called a churn, in the shape of a barrel. Q. What is done next? A. The churn is turned round by means of a handle, and the motion turns the cream into butter. Q. What is the use of butter? A. To put on bread, and to put into pie-crust, and many other nice things. Q. Of what colour is butter? A. It is generally yellow. A. Are there any other things made of milk? A. Yes, many things; but the principal one is cheese. Q. How is cheese made? A. The milk is turned into curds and whey, which is done by putting a liquid into it called rennet. Q. What part of the curd and whey is made into cheese? A. The curd, which is put into a press; and when it has been in the press a few days it becomes cheese. Q. Is the flesh of the cow useful? A. Yes; it is eaten, and is called beef; and the flesh of the young calf is called veal. Q. Is the skin of the cow or calf of any use? A. Yes; the skin of the cow or calf of any use? A. Yes; the skin of the cow is manufactured into leather for the soles of shoes. Q. What is made with the calf skin? A. The top of the shoe, which is called the upper-leather. Q. Are there any other parts of the cow that are useful? A. Yes; the horns, which are made into combs, handles of knives, forks, and other things. Q. What is made of the hoofs that come off the cow’s feet? A. Glue, to join boards together. Q. Who made the cow? A. Almighty God.
D.
Q. What is this? A. Letter D, the first letter it dog, dove, draper, &c. Q. What is the use of the dog, A. To guard the house and keep thieves away. Q. How can a dog guard the house and keep thieves away? A. By barking to wake the persons who live in the house. Q. Is the dog of any other use? A. Yes; to draw under a truck. D. Does he do as his master bids him? A. Yes; and knows his master from any other person. Q. Is the dog a faithful animal? A. Yes, very faithful; he has been known to die of grief for the loss of his master. Q. Can you mention an instance of the dog’s faithfulness? A. Yes; a dog waited at the gates of the Fleet prison for hours every day for nearly two years, because his master was confined in the prison. Q. Can you mention another instance of the dog’s faithfulness? A. Yes; a dog lay down on his master’s grave in a churchyard in London for many weeks. Q. How did the dog get food? A. The people who lived near noticed him, and brought him victuals. Q. Did the people do any thing besides giving him victuals A. Yes; they made a house for him for fear he should die with wet and cold. Q. How long did he stay there? A. Until the people took him away, because he howled dreadfully when the organ played on Sundays. Q. Is it right to beat a dog? A. No; it is very wrong to use any animal ill, because we do not like to be beaten ourselves. Q. Did Almighty God make the dog? A. Yes; and every thing else that has life.
E.
Q. What letter is this? A. E, the first letter in egg. Q. What is the use of an egg? A. It is useful for many purposes; to put into