Home Education (Taylor)/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
Family Love and Order.
Again I request the reader to bear in mind, that, if I advert, in this volume, to subjects properly belonging to moral and religious treatment, I do not profess either to advance the principles on which such treatment should rest, or to illustrate the application of them.
And yet something must be said with the view of setting before the reader that idea of the domestic system which is present to my own mind, and which I consider as inseparably connected with the processes and the exercises of intellectual culture. Fully to develop the mental faculties apart from family felicity—apart from pure enjoyments—apart from love, and subordination, is what I cannot so much as conceive of as practicable; nor is there an exercise so abstruse as that I can imagine it to be prosperously conducted by the stern and cold-hearted teacher of a depressed anti reluctant learner.
The words Love and Order, although not synonymous, are absolutely inseparable in relation to the domestic system. At school, no doubt, there may be order where there is little or no love; but it is frightful to think of a home of which the same might be said. And if, in a family, we must not look for order without love, so neither can love exist, or be preserved, without order: and by Order, I mean, absolute government, and perfect obedience
If there be not, in the natural dispositions of parents and children, enough kindly warmth of feeling to effect implicit obedience by the means of the gentle affections, and without frequent recurrence to measures of severity, home education had better not be attempted. Children may be governed at school by motives of fear, without entirely depraving their sentiments; because school is not their all and they have still a home, and a sphere of love to think of. But to rule them in any such way at home itself, is to wind out of their hearts, by a slow but certain process, every root and fibre of the affections; nor will it fail to render them, in the end, murky, obdurate, crafty, selfish, and malign. In mere mercy let children be sent to school, who must be so schooled if kept at home.
It can hardly be necessary to say, that this natural warmth of affection, which we name as requisite to the conduct of home education, is not that anxious sensitive fondness, existing chiefly on the parent's side, which, to be made any use of, must be perpetually talked of, and pointed at, and adduced, in support of the trembling parental authority. What is wanted, is not a sentiment worn, and hackneyed, and fretted, until it has become little else than a confused feeling of suspicion, weariness, and distaste; it is not a spring that has no force, except when it is strained; or a fire that has neither sparks nor warmth, except so long as it is blown.
There is truth in the common observation, that parental affection is a much stronger feeling than the reciprocal affection of children toward their parents; and yet if it be so, we need not be disquieted so long as it is found to be also true, that, when parental love is sustained by energy and intelligence, it generates a sentiment in the bosoms of children strong enough to bear all the stress that ought to be laid upon it, and which we may securely confide in for carrying any measures of moral or intellectual discipline, Children, naturally affectionate, in a fair degree, and who live always in the sunshine of a wise and vigorous parental love, will rarely, if ever, fail to render such a return of the devotion of their hearts as shall not merely make both parties happy, but such as shall support a firm domestic government, without any visible effort, or means of intimidation.
And let it be allowed to me to add, that, if a loving temper in parents and children be requisite for effecting the purposes of home education, hardly less can be affirmed of the conjugal affection. In a family not blessed with this first element of felicity, every difficulty of the domestic system of training is vastly enhanced, or is rendered insuperable. There can be no need the truism, that the undisguised dissonance of parents is totally incompatible with methods of culture, and with a general course such as we have now in view. But there is even a coldness and formality sometimes subsisting between husband and wife, which will too much chill the general temperature of the house, and take effect upon the dispositions of children, who will either become, in like manner, frigid and motionless; or attach themselves, with the pernicious feelings of partizans, to the one parent, or to the other. In relation to this subject we must repeat the aphorism, that, happiness is the first principle of home education.
There is, however, something more to be noted in relation to the influence of conjugal affection upon the dispositions and behavour of children; for let it be remembered, and we are now speaking especially of the maternal authothority, which it is so desirable to raise to the highest pitch, that, when conjugal love is warm and uniform, a mother stands invested, in the eyes of her children, with a power combining an indirect reverence of their father, who appears only to sustain the maternal rule, with the direct radiance of her own gentle fondness. And it is a constant law of human nature, that complex sentiments, such as the one here spoken of possess far more force than belongs to the sum of the elements of which they are composed, when existing apart. For example; the feeling in the minds of children which secures their devoted obedience to a mother, who is seen to be sustained by a father's constant and cordial concurrence, far exceeds in practical efficacy the amount of regard separately paid to the authority of the father and the mother, when, from an unhappy want of affection, the two parents are always thought of by their children apart.
And here, may the hint be listened to, that, among the reasons which may induce parents to adopt the practice of home education, this motive might have its weight, that, if the pre-requisites of conjugal affection already exist, namely, worth and purity of intention in both parties, the presence of children at home, and the need thence felt to arise of forbearance and tenderness, will powerfully tend to corroborate the very feeling which is found to be so important, and to preserve it from shocks and disgusts. Those whose tempers are actually under the control of good sense and virtuous principles, may often have occasion to rejoice in finding themselves borne along in the path of happiness, by subsidiary motives, when more direct sentiments happen to be in a languid state.
Moreover, it should not be forgotten, that young persons who, under the paternal roof, have seen, and have lived in the sunshine of their parents' conjugal felicity, will be the more likely to secure it for themselves. It is true, that a judicious mother does not talk to her daughters of their own future matrimonial happiness; but, without this, it will be enough, if they see her every day, beloved and happy; for they will then, at least, be provided with a convincing contradiction of the immoral doctrine, that conjugal felicity is a romantic dream, never realized in common life. No opinion can be of more pernicious influence than this; and those parents must be accounted to have done much for their children, of both sexes, who, not by words, but in fact, have proved such a doctrine to be false.
There are however many degrees of affection, whether conjugal or parental; and, it may be said, that, where other requisites are not wanting, the success of a system of domestic culture will bear proportion to the intensity of these feelings.
There is a parental affection, rational and steady, which may be quite sufficient to secure a consistent regard to the welfare of a family; and powerful enough to sustain the labours and self-denials involved in conducting an educational course. But there is an affection going very far beyond any such passive, measured love. There is a love of offspring that knows no restrictive reasons; that extends to any length of personal suffering or toil; a feeling of absolute self-renunciation, whenever the interests of children involve a compromise of the comfort or tastes of the parent. There is a love of children in which self-love is drowned; a love, which when combined with intelligence and firmness, sees through, and casts aside, every pretext of personal gratification, and steadily pursues the highest and most remote welfare of its object, with the determination at once of an animal instinct, and of a well-considered, rational purpose. There is a species of love, not liable to be worn by time, or slackened, as from year to year, children become less and less dependant upon parental care:—it is a feeling which possesses the energy of the most vehement passions, along with the calmness and appliancy of the gentlest affections; a feeling purged, as completely as any human sentiment can be, of the grossness of earth; and which seems to have been conferred upon human nature as a sample of emotion proper to a higher sphere.
This kind of parental love, balanced by vigorous good sense, clears all difficulties in education, and almost supersedes particular plans or advices. Whatever system may be adopted, in such a case, the routine of culture and instruction moves on with a noiseless and prosperous celerity, and especially so, if, to the warm affection which we are now supposing, and to the steady purpose and the tact which should guide it, there be added a certain natural delight in teaching, such as renders the labours of instruction pleasures, in fact.
On many occasions, our tastes carry us forward with ease in the discharge of difficult duties, where higher principles might leave us flagging; and it is so especially in the business of education. To impart knowledge is, to some, an enjoyment that never tires. But this teaching taste, it must be confessed, is a gift of nature; nor is its place to be supplied, either by habit, or by principle, except in an imperfect degree. Let then those who are conscious of being thus endowed, and whose warmth of heart and energy of understanding are sustained by a zest for tuition—let such be animated to improve and exert a talent that cannot fail to convey the very highest benefits, intellectual and moral, which one human being can receive from another.
An affectionate temperament, especially if it belong to both parents, is usually hereditary; and when so, the reciprocal sentiment supplies all that can be wished for in rendering a family happy, and the processes of culture prosperous. Or even if, in a numerous family, one may be found wanting in natural tenderness or sensibility, the influence of example, and the constant breathing of a kindly atmosphere, is likely, with skilful management of the individual temper, to supply, in good measure, what is lacking: thus the cold nature will grow warm, amid the radiation of love from all sides; and if it never become fervent, will at least never congeal.
Yet warm-hearted parents will not forget that the ascending love is, as we have said, less than the descending. The wide world, with its novelties, and the boundless mysterious futurity, exert an unspent influence over the minds of young persons, and cannot but divert a little their affections from their parents, however fondly and sincerely they may be loved. Whereas, with those who have reached the middle stage of life, the glitter of the world has been seen through, and its promise has been brought to the proof, and has so far failed in the performance, that the mind has turned toward the circle of the domestic affections, as a solace. But no such disabusing of the imagination by experience, has had place with children; and parents must remember that, while their own hopes and affections are converging more and more upon a focus, those of their children are all radiating through infinite space.
It may not be so easy to bear, with equanimity, another sort of disappointment, to which fond parental love is sometimes exposed;—I mean that which happens when, from a want of discretion, or of energy, the affections of children are snatched from those who claim them by the rights of nature, and are fixed upon by-standers or strangers. Yet it is a law of the human mind—inevitable and uniform, that it attaches itself, especially in early life, to the wisest, and the finest, and the most consistently benign, of those who come daily within its circle. A mother, for instance, may possess many substantial good qualities, which should attach her children to herself; and yet she may, in comparison with a teacher, or a relative, or even a servant, under the same roof, want tact, or calmness, or self-control, or dignity; and so in fact be loved only in an inferior degree. Nor will children be able, even if they entertained the wish to do so, to disguise their regards, or to speak and look as if they loved her most whom they love least. For this grief there is but one remedy, or preventive—the endeavour to become such as shall command, without asking for it, the unrivalled affection of children.
Beside the affection of which we have spoken, and beside the energy of mind which should be its counterpoise, and beside also the natural taste for teaching, there is a tact and address, not easily described, any more than easily acquired, which, in the daily and hourly government of children, and in rendering them happy, avails far more than all other qualities put together, apart from itself. Mothers or teachers may be seen, in every respect, very poorly endowed with the knowledge or the principles, or with even the moral sentiments proper to the business of education, and yet unrivalled in the art of securing obedience, and of diffusing enjoyment, and of imparting so much knowledge as they profess to communicate.
It is difficult, except by naming its opposites, to fix in words our conception of this desirable tact. We may say, if it be really needful to say so much, that it is not the product of any laboriously obtained knowledge of human nature, or of a scientific acquaintance with its principles. The happy management of human beings is, no doubt, in fact, always in harmony with the laws of the human mind; but this harmony is intuitively perceived, not learnedly acquired. Many a village dame plies the machinery of human nature well; but never has a professor of philosophy told those to whom nature has not granted this tact, either how to acquire it, or how to manage without it.
Parents may be found, in the highest degree solicitous for the welfare of their children, and not deficient in general intelligence, who nevertheless are perpetually struggling with domestic embarrassments, and sadly depressed by disappointment in the discharge of their daily duties. In such instances there may be observed, a something too much in the modes of treatment—too much talking and preaching, and a too frequent bringing in of ultimate motives, until the natural sensibility and delicacy of children's minds are, if the phrase may be allowed, worn threadbare; for all the gloss of the feelings is gone, and the warp and substance are going.
Such parents often, for the sake of making sure doubly sure, lift the arm of authority, when the raising of the finger is more than enough. An indiscreet anticipation of resistance never fails to suggest it. The simple law of the association of ideas is the immediate cause of a vastly larger amount of human actions than what springs from any formal resolution so to act. In all cases therefore, the probability of compliance is much greater when nothing but compliance is expected, than when a thought of the contrary is, by some inauspicious word, or a mere look of doubt and anxiety, suggested. The great world of moral agency turns glibly upon its pivots, by the momentum of habit and the association of ideas: mischief attends the attempt to urge its onward force, by more motive or reason, in any instance, than is wanted.
If we were to attempt to divine the secret of a prosperous management of children, perhaps it would resolve itself into the simple fact of a quick perception of the train of their ideas, at any moment, and a facility in concurring with the stream of thought, whatever it may be, which, by the slightest guiding word or gesture, can be led into whatever channel may be desired.
The rule of management might then be condensed into the three words—discern, follow, and lead. That is to say, there is first the catching of the clue of thought in a child's mind; then the going on with the same train a little way; and, lastly, the giving it a new, though not opposite direction. By the means of a governance of the wandering minds of children in some such method as this, there is hardly any limit to the control which may be exercised over, as well their conduct, as their moral and intellectual habits. The same law of influence holds good even with adults? or at least with all but the most highly cultured and vigorous minds, which renounce this sort of control; and it is on this principle that the demagogue, or the religious orator, who is gifted with an intuition of human nature, leads and turns the minds of thousands, by the lifting of his finger.
But to return to our proper sphere—we may affirm that the government of minds is the easiest of all exercises, to whoever possesses the secret of influence, and is confident of success; but the most difficult, and the most vexatious, to those who attempt it on formal principles, such as may be laid down in so many rules fitted to occasions.
As the labours of instruction cannot be carried forward in a family except on the principle of spontaneous and perfect obedience, nor this obedience be ensured apart from warm and vigorous reciprocal sentiments of love between parents and children, so we may add is there needed, for the animation of the entire system, and for giving it ease and velocity of movement, a certain hilarity, and even playfulness, always saving decorum, on the part of parents and teachers, such as shall prevent, if we might so speak, the minds of children from dragging on the ground.
If a mother preserves the gloss and brightness of her children's love by indulging them in playful caresses, so may a father render his authority the more intimate by holding it in reserve, while his ordinary manner toward his children is marked by vivacity, and a discreet intellectual sportiveness. It must, indeed, be thoroughly understood in the house that a father has, not only the power, but the resolution to enforce absolute submission to whatever he may command:—but it is enough if this be tacitly known; and the fact need very rarely be brought under notice. On the contrary, a father, immoveably firm as he may be in maintaining his rights if disputed or resisted, is yet, in common, the leader and author of pleasures, and especially of such as are in any way vivified by intelligence.
A father who has the peculiar talent requisite for the purpose may with advantage, and especially at table, and in hours of relaxation—in the garden and the field, use a sparkling and sportive style, giving indulgence, under the restraints of good taste, to facetious turns, sudden comparisons, and sprightly apologues. A chastened pleasantry serves many purposes, more or less important:—it graces and recommends the paternal authority; it gives rise to a state of mind intermediate between sport and study, tending at once to connect the former with intelligence, and the latter with pleasurable sensations; it is a great means of quickening the sense of analogy, on which so much depends in all the higher mental processes; and it is an initiation in the vivid and elegant conversational manner that distinguishes the best society.
A happy facetiousness on the part of parents or teachers, so far from rendering the ordinary style of conversation frivolous, on the contrary, in making the society of adults agreeable to children, gives them a distaste for that sheer inanity or vulgarity which is apt to prevail among themselves. Moreover, inasmuch as this sort of converse breaks up the feeling of formality, too often separating parents and children, it promotes directly that intimacy and ingenuousness whence a real friendship may at length result. What Lord Bacon says of pleasantry, in relation to the transaction of public business, is quite true also in education—Res est supra opinionera politica, facile transire à joco ad serium, à serio ad jocum.
That degree of regularity and exactitude in carrying forward the daily routine of studies and recreations, which is indispensable in a home-taught family, as well as in a school, is secured, in different families, by very different means; and the means actually employed, in any case, might safely be taken as an indication of the height of the genuine feeling of affectionate reverence, prevailing in the minds of children. A prompt regard to time and order is that, without which no solid improvement can be made;—on this point there can be no room for a question; but it remains to be asked, by what means should this necessary observance of modes and seasons be effected?
Now it will generally be found in families where the filial sentiment is infirm, and therefore variable, that order, if maintained at all, is enforced by the means of a hundred petty and vexatious formalities—by fines and penalties, and complicated regulations, the general tendency of which is to damp the hilarity of childhood, to stagnate the understanding, and to generate a habit of eye-service, and a regard to the letter more than to the spirit of the law; from all which may easily spring a temper of mind incompatible alike with open-hearted simplicity of character, and with intellectual energy.
But where a warm affection is the real spring of obedience, and where children are actually happy, from day to day, an exact regard to times and to plans, or as much exactness in this respect as can be deemed useful, may be secured—no one sees by what immediate means, for the whole movement is spontaneous—the machine is a living one; and inasmuch as it is not on a very large scale, the known will of the supreme power comes in the place of whatever is formal or palpable. Along with the substantial advantages of regularity, there may therefore be enjoyed a feeling of liberty and of individual spontaneousness, highly conducive to vigour of mind, and especially to a clearly expressed originality of personal character. Too much law breaks down all minds to a dull uniformity.
Stern punctuality in a family, effected by force of statutes and penalties, indicates, as I have said, a low temperature of the affections; for there must be a great want of feeling, if not of intelligence, where the preservation of order among seven or ten children, demands as much mechanism as is requisite in a school of a hundred. Let there be, as mere matter of convenience, the ringing of the bell at certain times; but the bell should not sound in the ears of children as a tocsin of dismay. The minute hand of the clock may be referred to, for guidance; but it should not, in the eyes of children, be invested with terrors, as if it were old Time's iron sceptre.
In the preceding chapter, I stated my belief, that the happy development of the higher intellectual faculties depends, in a very intimate manner, upon the joyousness of early life; and in this, we have spoken of family affection, and of the order thence resulting, as the means of family happiness; but if it would not lead us too far, something might be advanced concerning the influence of kindly affections upon the intellectual powers, in preserving their equipoise or symmetry. Let it however be observed, in passing, that, as the moral elements of our nature, upon the sound condition of which happiness or misery turns, are, or ought to be, paramount, so do they, when in a healthy state, impart an equable activity to the rational faculties. The affections have a reciprocity with the reason, and with the imagination, which, indeed, is often severed by unfavourable influences, but which, if cherished in early life, may always be enhanced.
Although we cannot command these rudiments of intellectual power which are the gift of nature, yet more than a little may be done, whatever be the rate of excellence originally put into our hands, in securing a vigorous development of the faculties—first, by merely promoting happiness; and then, more specifically, by cherishing the moral sentiments. It is these that keep the mind in a plastic, soluble state, so as to facilitate the process of culture: it is these that prevent such a fixedness and distortion of the mind as defies the skill of the teacher. When lassitude has come on from too long continued mental labours, or when, in the eager pursuit of particular intellectual objects, the mind has got a bent so strong as to render a return to other studies peculiarly difficult or unpleasing, there are two means of restoring, at once, its elasticity and its equipoise; the one is the relaxation to be found in active amusements, and the other is the genial suffusion of feeling through the soul, by the excitement of pure and tranquil moral emotions. Now, if the former be the means ordinarily to be resorted to, as always at hand, and always efficacious, we should hold the latter also at command, when a more thorough refreshment of the mental system is found to be needed.
And here I cannot avoid a passing reference to the fact, of the very happy influence of a due and fervent attendance upon religious exercises—public and private, in bringing the mind home to its resting and to its starting points, and in favouring its recovery of that clearness and freshness of perception, and of that well-poised self-control and easy appliancy, which are lost in a course of severe application. I am prepared to affirm that, to the studious especially, and whether younger or older, a Sunday well spent—spent in happy exercises of the heart, devotional and domestic—a Sunday given to the soul, is the best of all means of refreshment for the mere intellect. A Sunday so passed, is a liquefaction of the entire nature—a dispersive process, dispelling mental cramps and stagnations, and enabling every single faculty again to get its due in the general diffusion of the intellectual power.
If this be true, and I have the firmest persuasion that it is so, the general inference it suggests is easily applied to the business of education; and the recollection of it will have its weight with parents in cherishing the religious and social affections among their children. It is very certain that young persons may be shorn of their happiness, and may be chilled in their affections, and yet be made scholars, or mathematicians, or what else we please, in particular departments; but I deny that they can have the benefit of a vigorous development of the mind, as a whole, except in the sunshine of happiness, and love, and piety.