On the particular Branches of Education required for Elementary Schools

Chap. II.

In making choice of suitable subjects for the education of a community, there are two considerations which ought to regulate us in our selection. The one is, the indications of Nature respecting any branch of education; and the other is, the peculiar usages of the place and persons with whom the pupil is destined to associate. As an example of the former class of subjects, we may instance reading and writing; and of the latter, book-keeping and the classics. The branches belonging to the former will be found more or less useful to all without exception; while those which rank under the second class, although requisite for some, will be found unnecessary, and generally useless, to many. From the character of the present work, our business is chiefly with the former class; and we shall therefore advert very shortly to a few of them, pointing out the intimations of Nature respecting them, and giving a few hints as to the best methods by which they may be taught.

And first of all, Religion and Morals are clearly pointed out by Nature as a branch of education peculiarly necessary for the young. On this we shall not here again enlarge, but shall merely refer the reader to some of our previous pages, where it has been made sufficiently clear.

Next in importance as a branch of education plainly indicated by Nature, we ought to rank the principles of Natural Philosophy. We say next in importance, not in time; because they are evidently not to be taught to the child in this order, although it will be found in experience that these principles may be communicated by successive "steps" much sooner than is generally thought. Nature begins early; and so should we. The very infant becomes practically a natural philosopher, and continues to act regularly upon the truths or principles which experience enables him to detect. He soon learns that flame burns, that clothes keep his body warm, that stumbling will cause a fall, and that the support of a chair or stool will prevent it. As he grows up he learns the danger of handling sharp knives, hot irons, and burning coals; he learns to detect some of the effects of the mechanical powers, which he frequently applies, although he cannot explain them. This we perceive exemplified in his ingenious contrivances in cutting his sticks, wrenching with forks, hammering with stones, kicking with his toes, and afterwards more powerfully with his heels; in trundling his hoop, in sailing his mimic fleets by the force of his breath, and in adapting to the requisite moving powers his wind and water mills. He even learns to know something of the composition of forces, as we perceive by his contrivances in the flying of his kite, the shooting of his marbles, and the rebounding of his ball. Now, as these adaptations are never to be ranked under the class of instinctive actions, but have been in every case acquired by actual experience, it shews, that there is an outgoing of the mind in search of principles, and we think it is probable, that these principles are often, although perhaps but dimly perceived, from the various, and frequently successful contrivances of the child in difficulties, and in circumstances when he is desirous of procuring relief. This at all events shews us, that children are very early prepared, and capable of receiving instruction of this kind.

The importance attached by Nature to this branch of learning, is not less remarkable, than is its universality. It is the great hinge upon which every temporal comfort of the individual is made to turn. What we have here termed "natural philosophy," is to the body and to time, what religion and morals are to the soul and eternity;—the well-being of both depends almost entirely upon the proper application of their several principles. It is no doubt true, that the principles are not always very clearly perceived; but it is equally true, that the application of these principles will be more easy, more frequent, and much more effective, when they are made familiar by teaching. Hence the importance of this branch of education for the young.

Next in importance as branches of education, and prior perhaps in point of time, come the arts of Reading and Writing.—Speech is a valuable gift of Nature, bestowed upon us for the communication of our ideas, and writing is nothing more than a successful imitation of Nature in doing so. The hearing of speech, in like manner, is closely copied in the art of reading. These two arts, therefore, as most successful imitations of Nature, recommend themselves at once to the notice of the teacher as an important branch of education for the young. The one enabling him to speak with the hand, and to communicate his ideas to his friend from any distance; and the other, the art of hearing by the eye, and by which he can make the good and the wise speak to him as often and as long as he may feel inclined.

Of Arithmetic, we may only remark, that the necessity of sometimes ascertaining the number of objects, of adding to their number, and at other times of subtracting from them, indicates sufficiently that this is a branch of education recommended by Nature. It may only be necessary here to remark, that, from various concurring circumstances, it appears, that what is called the Denary Scale is that which is most conducive to general utility. As to the nature of Arithmetic, and the best methods of teaching it, we must refer to the Note.

Music is one of Nature's best gifts. The love of it is almost universal; and few comparatively are unable to relish and practise it. Its effect in elevating and refining the sentiments in civilized society, is matter of daily observation; and its power to "soothe the savage breast," has been often verified. To neglect the cultivation of music, therefore, during childhood and youth, when it can be best done, not only without interference with other branches of study, but with decided advantage in forwarding them, is both imprudent and unjust. We say that it is unjust;—for while much ingenuity and large sums of money have been expended in producing musical instruments for the gratification of men, the child of the poorest beggar is in possession of an instrument in the human voice, which for sweetness, variety, expression, and above all, for its adaptation to language, has never been equalled, and stands quite unapproachable by all the contrivances of man. How cruel then in parents or teachers to allow an instrument so noble and so valuable to fall to ruin from the want of exercise! It is to deprive their pupil of a constant solace in affliction, and to dry up one of the cheapest, the readiest, and the most innocent and elevating sources both of personal and social enjoyment. Of its uses, and methods of teaching in the school, we must again refer to the Notes.

Dancing is obviously the sister of music, and is perhaps equally sanctioned by Nature. It is obviously capable of being consecrated and employed for high moral purposes; and its abuse therefore should form no argument against its regular cultivation. That it was so employed by the appointment of God himself, is matter of history; and that it is still capable of being preserved from abuse, cannot reasonably be denied. The stand that has so frequently been made against even the innocent enjoyment of this boon of Nature, is now admitted to be a prejudice, derived originally from its flagrant and frequent abuse. These prejudices are gradually and silently melting away; and it is cheering to see the better feelings of our nature effectively advancing the art to its legitimate place in education, under the guise of gymnastics and callisthenics. That these, however, are but imperfect substitutes for what Nature has intended for the young, is obvious, when we contrast them with the gambols of the kitten, the friskings of the lamb, and the unrestrained romps of healthy children newly let loose from the school. The truth is, that the accumulation of the animal spirits must be thrown off by exercise, whether the parent or teacher wills it or no; and if the children are not taught to do this by rule, as in dancing, they will do it without rule, and perhaps beyond the proper limit, both as to time, place, and quantity. Education indeed cannot be expected to flourish to the extent desired, till the mental labours of the school can be occasionally relieved by some physical exercise, either within doors, or in the open air.

The love of pictures and of Drawing is also a boon bestowed upon us by Nature, and is a desirable acquisition for the young. The art may generally be acquired with little trouble, and often with great enjoyment. It is certainly neither so necessary, nor so valuable, as some of the branches of which we have been speaking; but as it may be easily attained, and as its future exercise will always be a source of innocent and refined enjoyment, it ought to occupy a place in every educational institution. Almost every person is gratified by looking upon a good picture; and few comparatively are unable to acquire the rudiments of the art which produces them. It requires but little teaching, provided good copies be procured;—and even these will be frequently unnecessary, where the pupils are encouraged to copy from Nature. The proper methods of doing this, however, must be left to the circumstances of the school, and to future experiments.

With respect to the teaching of History, a little consideration will convince us, that it does not consist in the mere communication of historical facts. History is, or ought to be, a science; and the succession of events is nothing more than the implements employed by the master in teaching it. The facts of history, like those of chemistry, agriculture, or mechanics, are taught merely as means to an end.—They are the elements from which we derive principles, which are to be practically applied by the learner; and it is the ability to apply these that constitutes the learning. The facts upon which any science is based, must no doubt be known before it can be taught;—but they may be known without the science having ever been mastered: For it is not a knowledge of the facts, but the capacity to make use of them, that entitles a man to the appellation of a chemist, an agriculturist, a mechanic, or a historian.

Viewing the study of history in this light, we at once perceive, that the teaching which it requires is not a dry detail of dates and circumstances;—but the practical uses which ought to be made of them. The only legitimate use of history is to direct us how we ought to conduct ourselves as citizens, and how rulers and governors can most safely and successfully manage the affairs of the public, in all the varying events of political change. The teacher therefore is to communicate the facts, for the purpose of turning them to use, by drawing, and teaching his pupils how to draw lessons of prudence, energy, or caution, as regards the nation;—in the same way that Biography is taught for the sake of drawing lessons of a more personal kind, as regards a family or a neighbourhood. Both were practically exhibited in the experiment in Aberdeen; by which it was made obvious, that children, as well as adults, were capable of studying it. Where the circumstances of a seminary will admit, it ought not to be neglected. The mere inconveniences which may for some time attend the introduction of such a mode of teaching history is no good reason for its neglect; and the want of practical elementary books drawn up upon this plan, in the form of successive "Steps," is the chief desideratum, which we hope soon to see supplied.

Geography is another branch of education pointed out to us by Nature for the benefit of man. We speak here, however, of physical geography, and not of the historical and political departments of it. These belong more properly to history. The chief object in teaching this science, is to convey to the mind of the pupil a correct idea of this world as a sphere, on the top of which he stands, and of the relative positions of all the kingdoms and countries on its surface. This will be, and it ought to be, a work of time. The more correctly and familiarly the pupil can form the idea of this sphere as a whole, the sooner and the better will he become acquainted with its parts. Acting upon the principles of reiteration and analysis, formerly described, the pupil ought to sketch, however rudely, the great outlines of the four divisions of the earth, upon a blank, or slate globe, till he can do so with some degree of correctness. The separated divisions may then be sketched on a common slate, without caring as yet for the details; and when this can be accomplished readily, the same thing may be done with the different kingdoms of which they are severally composed. The child ought never to be harassed by the minute details, till he comes to sketch the countries, or the counties. What is required before this, is their relative position, more than their form; and this, upon the principle of analysis, will be easiest and most permanently acquired by mastering in the first place the great outlines.

Children, by mere imitation, will practically acquire the art of Grammar, long before they are capable of learning it as a science. It ought invariably to be taught by "Steps;" and the child should have a perfect knowledge of the etymological part, before he is allowed to advance to syntax. The efficiency of this concluding part of grammar, depends entirely upon his familiarity with the former. It will therefore be found here, as in the practice of arithmetic, that the prize will ultimately be awarded, not to him who expends most labour and strength in running, but to him who has made the best preparation for the race.

The art of Composition, or the ability to express our thoughts in an orderly and natural form, is the last branch of education to which, as recommended by Nature, we shall here allude. The perfection of this art appears to depend on three circumstances. There must be a clear understanding of the subject upon which the person is to write;—there must, in the second place, be a distinct perception of the most natural order in which it ought to be presented to the mind and imagination of others;—and the third is, an ability to manage these materials with facility, and without distraction of mind, while engaged in writing them. As to the first of these three, nothing requires to be said here, as the exercises recommended in the previous part of this Treatise will almost invariably accomplish it. With respect to the second, that of presenting the ideas connected with the subject in due and proper order, it may be remarked, that the hints formerly given, as to the natural order of "grouping" objects to be presented to the imagination, will be of great use here, and to them we must refer;—and the third object here required, that of managing the thoughts at the moment of writing them, has been in effect already described and treated of, in a previous part of this Treatise. It is the same kind of ability as that which is required for acquiring fluency and ease in extemporaneous speaking, and is to be gained by the use of the same means. It is here only necessary to observe, that abstract teaching and general directions are not the things most required for forwarding a child in this branch of his education. These, at an advanced stage of his learning, will no doubt be of service; but till the pupil can write with some degree of freedom, they are in a great measure useless, or worse. What is wanted most in our elementary schools, is a successful beginning;—suitable exercises to assist the pupil in writing his own thoughts properly, but in his own way. Many methods have been devised to effect this, and with more or less success;—but we believe the most efficient, because the most natural and simple, is that which has been engrafted upon the paraphrastic exercise. In regard to its ease, it is only necessary to say, that a child who can but write a sentence, may begin to practise it;—and its efficiency may be argued from the fact, that while every step is progressive, the advanced exercises give ample scope for the abilities of the cleverest in the school.