Some children take much pleasure in making and painting illustrated charts. I have one on a large scale of the sixteenth century, giving the accession of Queen Mary—1553, and a picture of the Tower, to which Northumberland and others were sent. A block in 1554 tells of the executions consequent on Wyatt’s rebellion, and a dove with an olive branch of Philip’s intercession for Elizabeth—1555; there is a picture of a martyr at the stake, and a hand in the flames for Cranmer—1557; a scroll stands for the first Covenant in Scotland, and a sword for the war with France—1558; there is a heart with Calais written on it.

Here is a specimen of a chart with a key of the sixteenth century.[19] It will be seen from this how events in contemporary history can be introduced. Thus the first year, 1500, reminds us of the discovery of America, and of the great jubilee, the precursor of the Papal downfall; the fleur de lys standing for the French kings and the cross for the German Emperors, tell of the accession of Francis I. and Charles V. Portraits are given of English sovereigns. We have later the massacre of St. Bartholomew with daggers, a ship for the Armada, etc., etc.

KEY TO SIXTEENTH CENTURY CHART.

KEY TO SIXTEENTH CENTURY CHART.

In the charts I have published,[20] I have given only English kings; when these are fixed in the memory, events of general history can be gradually introduced, and paper ruled on any scale required.

If the chart is studied as a whole, either in reference to English or modern history, it is convenient to divide it into four periods, of five hundred years each, corresponding to four lines in the chart, and to characterise each century. Then on a larger scale, for which we have sheets of paper ruled, we put in gradually certain landmarks, whilst giving lessons on modern history, such matters being written in as the teacher directs. The writer’s text-book of English and general history, in which are given the sovereigns of the principal European countries, notable persons and events, etc., can be used for lessons in connection with the chart.[21]

I subjoin a syllabus of a course of lessons on modern history:—

I.—In the first century we see Rome at the height of prosperity, victorious on all sides. During the second, she maintains her position fairly under the good emperors. The third is a period of trouble and confusion, the empire is struggling for existence. In the fourth, the firm government of Constantine maintained, for a short time after his accession, comparative peace; but the removal of the seat of government, and the subsequent division of the empire, facilitated the barbaric triumphs of Radagaisus, Alaric, Attila and Genseric in the fifth; and before its close, the Western empire had fallen, and Theodoric the Ostrogoth was king of Italy. This line embraces in Britain the 400 years of the Roman occupation, and a small portion of the Anglo-Saxon period.

II.—In the second line we have the period of barbarian settlements—tribes are changing into nations. The Anglo-Saxon invasions, the unceasing contests amongst the numerous petty kings, have terminated, by the middle of the tenth century, in the union of the country under Athelstane, the first who can properly be called King of all England. In France we have the union of the Franks under Clovis, the constant civil wars, interminable divisions, and fainéant kings of the Merovingian period, the union of the country under Charlemagne, the renewed civil strife, subdivisions, and fainéant kings of the Carlovingian line, and the accession of the third, or Capetian Dynasty.

In Germany, too, order is being developed out of confusion, and, in the tenth century, the different nations have agreed to choose one king; barriers are opposed to further invasion from without, free cities are rising, feudalism is being rapidly developed, the spirit of chivalry is felt, and the idea of a united Christendom, subject to the emperor as temporal, to the pope as spiritual head, may be traced most distinctly in the schemes of the Othos, and the attempt of Sylvester II. to rouse the European nations for a crusade.

In Italy, so long a battlefield, the great republics are rising, and the pope from time to time asserting his independence. In the East, in Africa, in Spain, the Mahometan kingdoms have been established. During so turbulent a period, we must expect to find many heroes, and from these we may select Mahomet, Charlemagne and Alfred, as the central figures of the seventh, eighth and ninth centuries.

III.—-In the third line we have the formation of the states of modern Europe. The great nations of the West are no longer isolated units, for they have joined together in crusades against the East, they acknowledge one head in the popes. The popes, mighty in the person of Gregory VII. in the eleventh century, in Innocent III. in the thirteenth, have sunk to the lowest depths of ignominy in the person of Alexander VI. The Albigenses are almost exterminated in the thirteenth, but Wickliffe has preached in the fourteenth. Huss and Jerome of Prague have been martyred at Constance early in the fifteenth, but Luther has begun to study the Scriptures. The middle classes, too, have been growing in importance, citizens have triumphed over warriors. The power of a turbulent chivalry has been destroyed by civil wars, the people have risen to power. The invention of gunpowder has changed the aspect of war, and the introduction of printing brought about a vast change in education; great writers, as Chaucer and Dante, are beginning to produce their works in the vulgar tongue. America has, at the close of the period, been just discovered.

IV.—In the last line we have a period marked first by struggles for religious, afterwards for political liberty, the long religious wars of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The oppression of the aristocratic and papal powers during the preceding period led, in some instances, to the exaggeration of the monarchical authority, and to this are opposed the revolutions of the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, which have in some instances produced a reaction in favour of despotism. The discovery of America has given an extraordinary impulse to naval enterprise, to colonisation and commerce; this, together with the diffusion of knowledge by printing, has greatly stimulated intellectual activity, and the mathematical and philosophical studies of the sixteenth century have prepared the way for the practical triumphs of our own day.

Only a few leading dates have been marked in the published charts, which are coloured for different periods, but these may be added to indefinitely—sometimes by writing in additional signs or words to mark contemporary sovereigns, etc., but it is better not to multiply these too much; for many things no signs need be used, as persons and things of minor importance will become associated in the memory with the more important. Or again, suppose a special subject is taken up, as English literature or the history of painting, the name of a leading author or painter can be written across that portion of the century in which his chief works appeared, and all who belong to his school of thought will be easily remembered in connection with him. A chart of English literature has been published on this plan by Baker, Clifton.

In the Chart of Ancient History, the numbers are read upwards and backwards. Thus:—

We give, in conclusion, photographs of two charts prepared for the Victorian Exhibition (1897) with a key.

The first gives the chief events of the Queen’s reign, the second the chief scientific discoveries.

KEY TO CHART No. I.
CHART OF THE QUEEN’S REIGN.

KEY TO CHART No. II.
SHOWING PROGRESS IN SCIENCE DURING THE QUEEN’S REIGN.

ECONOMICS FOR GIRLS.

By Margaret Bridges.

Changed attitude of public towards economics.Nothing strikes a student of economics more forcibly than the change which has come over public opinion with regard to this subject during the last few years. Until quite lately, it has been regarded, except by scholars, with suspicion and dislike, accused of setting forth material wealth as the supreme object of human desire, and of ignoring all that is generous and disinterested in human nature. To-day things are very different: indeed it might be said we are all economists now. Some vestige, however, of the old prejudice still lingers in the minds of those who ask: “What is the good of teaching economics to Girls?”

Training given in accuracy.(1) The student of economics is trained to think exactly, to reason closely, and to express herself clearly. No one surely would maintain that such training is less needed by girls than by boys. On the contrary, we are often assured that women are less accurate than men, and are constitutionally illogical. In any science, vagueness of thought and looseness of expression are fatal to success, but the student of economics has a peculiar difficulty to overcome, for he finds no special vocabulary ready for his use. The terms used are for the most part those familiar in everyday language, employed however in a very definite and sometimes peculiar sense. Great care is needed in distinguishing between the ordinary and the economic meaning of such terms as utility, wealth, capital, value, and many others. And the training in scientific precision of language thus given is no small gain in these days of slip-shod English.

Reasoning powers developed.(2) The study of economics tends to stimulate independent thought, and to develop “mental muscle”. We take it for granted that the questions set for home work require an application of the principles given, and not a mere reproduction of notes. The girls must think out the problems for themselves, for, as they truly remark sometimes: “We can’t find the answers in our books”. Political economy certainly does not lend itself to cribbing or cramming—and we are thankful that our text-books supply no ready-made solutions of problems.

History rendered more interesting.(3) We find that the study of the industrial conditions of our country gives an additional interest to history. To read it with economic eyes is to read it afresh, whilst to study it without them is to leave out a very important factor.

Interest shown by pupils in subject.(4) I would urge the great importance of giving our girls, especially those engaged in philanthropic work, some knowledge of those economic principles upon which such work must be based to do real good. We have learnt that this is not easy, and that incalculable mischief may be done by thoughtless benevolence, which is too often cruelty in disguise. Mr. Loch, in speaking of charity organisation, has said: “It is likely that we shall in the future draw our women secretaries from the ranks of those who have taken the trouble to study political economy”. Of course, there must be the training of the heart as well as the head. Our theories, however perfect, will avail us little without the sympathetic insight that love alone can give, but perhaps women specially need to remember that sympathy itself must be guided by reason. Still it may be asked: “Can political economy, dealing as it does, for the most part, with dry abstractions, be made interesting to girls?” My experience is, that in no branch of their studies are the pupils more responsive or more ready to do their part of the work, and indeed to give often more than is actually demanded. Diagrams supplied by pupils.They particularly enjoy the making of original diagrams (very original sometimes!), and occasionally so elaborate as to cost the teacher some anxious study. Much amusement may be got out of such seemingly unpromising material as even the Law of Diminishing Returns or Ricardo’s Theory of Rent, when they are touched upon by an imaginative or artistic girl. To past generations of pupils I owe many apt illustrations and ingenious diagrams, which have been stored up for future use, because they were much better than any I had thought of myself. I think our lessons fail sometimes, because we work so hard ourselves, that we leave our pupils nothing to do! Now in economics we are dealing to a great extent with facts that are already familiar to them, so that we can constantly appeal to their own experience and observation, and the teacher will find that “interrogative lessons on the Socratic model” are particularly suited to this subject. Illustrations drawn from daily life.The daily newspapers will furnish her with plenty of illustrations, and economic laws can be shown to be working themselves out before our eyes. What better comment on the Laws of Demand and Supply could we wish for than that supplied by the recent “boom” and subsequent “slump” in the bicycle trade, or the speculation in seats during the late Jubilee! The illustrations furnished by the girls themselves, from their own experience, are specially valuable. The daughters of Indian officers can testify to the diminished purchasing power of the “vanishing rupee,” whilst Irish girls are eloquent on the system of Land Tenure in their own country; a banker’s daughter will supply us with skilfully forged bank notes and bills of exchange, and on one occasion an Austrian pupil gave us some interesting information on the working of the Metayer system abroad.

Judicious use of text-books.In teaching younger girls—say from fifteen to seventeen—a sparing use should be made of text-books for home reading: paragraphs, exemplifying or enlarging on the lesson given, may be selected, but indiscriminate reading, for the average girl, at that age, is pretty sure to result—as she will candidly tell you—in her getting “hopelessly muddled”. Jevons’ Primer of Political Economy is an admirable introduction to the subject, but avowedly does not cover the whole ground, and I regret to say that Professor Gonner’s very helpful text-book is now out of print. To a great extent indeed the teacher will find it necessary to form her own text-book, that is, to collect her materials from many sources, and adapt them to the use of her pupils. One feels in this, as in other subjects, that one cannot hope to do much more, in the limited time at our disposal, than awaken interest, and show what a wide field there is to be explored. Economics as an examination subject.We are glad to know that the subject is often continued after school days are over. Many of our pupils are preparing for the Senior Oxford Examination, but economic lessons are given in non-examination classes as well.

Some take up the subject again later for the Cambridge Higher Local, and have to make themselves acquainted with Adam Smith, J. S. Mill, and a host of more modern writers, hardly any of whom could have been placed in their hands with advantage at an earlier age, although they will unconsciously have imbibed much of their teaching and will find that their year’s training in elementary economics will have helped them a long way on their road.

Ethical considerations. Enlarged sympathies.In conclusion, we would advocate the study of economics for girls, because we believe that it helps them to live in a larger world, and to take a more intelligent interest in the lives of those around them.

Wealth an element in well-being.The “sordid science” is lifted into a higher plane when we regard it as “a part of the study of man”—and look on wealth as a means to an end, not an end in itself—valuable only so far as it facilitates a “growth towards that higher and purer condition of society, for which alone we care to strive”.

APPENDIX.

ENGLISH LITERATURE.

By Amy Lumby.

The general aim and method of the teacher.“All spirits upon which poetry falls,” says Shelley, “open themselves to receive the wisdom which is mingled with its delight.” To remember these words will help the teacher of literature to bear in mind her double aim—to inspire delight and at the same time to impart wisdom. It is impossible to lay down rules for accomplishing this aim, but we may trace out a few principles by which to guide our course. Literature appeals to the imagination, the faculty of the mind in which emotion and intellect join, and a literature lesson should combine the two elements of feeling and thought. Poetry needs to be enjoyed if it is to be understood, for it is the expression, not of facts which can be demonstrated, but of truth which can only be recognised by those who care for it. So the first aim of the teacher must be to make her class enjoy what they read. Dulness is a bad fault in any teacher; in the teacher of literature it is high treason. No one ought to teach the subject unless she thoroughly enjoys it herself and can communicate her enjoyment. But in trying to inspire delight in her pupils, she must be on her guard against the mental indolence of children who ask only to be amused. In this age of trivial literature and comic papers young people are apt to be impatient of serious reading, to find the Faerie Queene dull and the Pilgrim’s Progress slow, but the teacher must persevere in presenting to them as attractively as may be the very best they are capable of relishing at all, and after a while a better taste will destroy all desire for the worthless rubbish they once found pleasure in.

When once the teacher has roused real enjoyment in her class, her part becomes merely that of the interpreter. She must see to it that her pupils understand the words they read, realise the images that are called up before them, and follow as closely as they can the thoughts that are presented to them. The subject does the rest. For the power of intercourse with great and good thoughts is such that it enlarges and lifts the mind insensibly to better things. If the spirit is but rendered sensitive to poetry, wisdom enters hand in hand with delight. We can give no rules for producing this effect. The power to do it is the special gift required in the teacher of literature. She must possess the faculty of kindling and stirring thought and feeling to respond to the thought and feeling presented to them. Without this she will never make her pupils feel anything of what poetry can teach. In no subject does the mental attitude and the mental furniture of the teacher matter so much.

The earliest stage—the reading lesson.Assuming then a thorough enjoyment and appreciation of the subject, we will consider a little more in detail the method in which it may be treated in one or two typical cases. To begin with the simplest form of literature—the reading lesson—we will suppose that we have to read a poem, say “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” with a class of young children. We shall have in our own minds a clear conception of the qualities which make this one of the finest of modern ballads—the extreme simplicity of the theme, the vigour and breadth of the treatment, the pathos of the little human tragedy set against the great background of Nature in storm and tumult. But we shall not burden the children’s minds with this information; with a very few words of preface to prepare them for what they are to expect, we shall first read the whole poem through to them. The reading is a very important point, for on this depends to a large extent the enjoyment they will have in the poem. A harsh voice or a dull delivery is fatal to pleasure; and monotonous reading fails to convey the point of the story, and to suggest the atmosphere of the poem. Every teacher of literature should be a trained reader.

The poem must next be taken verse by verse; the meaning of difficult or unusual expressions, such as “veering flaw,” “lashed to the helm,” “she stove and sank,” should be explained, while those that are peculiarly apt should be noted with appreciation; for instance, “fairy flax,” “a whooping billow,” the vessel “swept” towards the reef, and many others. At the same time the class must be made to see the pictures suggested, as they rise: the wintry sea, the skipper beside the helm, the child lashed to the mast, the frozen ship rushing headlong to her doom. And lastly, the whole drift and significance of the poem must be kept before their minds by making them realise the situation; the happy child so suddenly overwhelmed, helpless and at first bewildered, then as calamities thicken, turning for help to prayer; hurried on with the doomed vessel through night and storm, and sharing its fate among the exultant breakers. And they should feel the calm of the close and the survival of the human interest beyond the short-lived triumph of the sea. Of course it will not be possible at first to make young children feel all the force of a poem like this, but our aim must be to rouse their imaginations by bringing the picture it presents vividly before them, so that they gradually become more and more sensitive to the stimulus of poetry.

The second stage—the detailed study of one of Shakspere’s plays, or some other work in detail.A course of reading lessons, graduated in difficulty from the simple ballad to such poems as “The Forsaken Merman,” “Tithonus,” and the “Ode to Duty,” will lead up to the next stage, the reading of a play of Shakspere. Here we must cling very closely to our principle of the importance of enjoyment. Very few people who have read their first play at school are happy enough to have enjoyed it. And why is this? Because a mistaken ideal has been before the teacher’s mind, and a mistaken method has been used to attain it. Careful study and exact understanding of the language of Shakspere is almost a liberal education in itself; but it is not always borne in mind that the understanding of the language is but a means to an end, and that notes, whether philological or historical, are of value only when they really throw light on the meaning of the text. It is worse than useless to burden the memories of children with derivations of words from languages with which they are absolutely unacquainted. When the original or root-meaning of a word is really worth knowing, and a knowledge of it tends to a more accurate use of the word, then it should be learnt, but to make children learn Saxon or Welsh or Sanskrit words simply because an English word is akin to them is a waste of time and power, and this explaining of the vaguely understood by the totally unknown is a subversion of all educational methods. The teacher should exercise a wise discretion in the use of notes, and not disgust her class with Shakspere altogether, as is too often done, by forcing upon the children a mass of dry information which overloads their memories without bringing a ray of illumination with it.

Some care will be needed with young children reading their first play to see that they can really follow the story of it. The dramatic form is puzzling to them; the absence of descriptive matter, together with the constant change of scene, is apt to bewilder them, and it may be necessary to read the story to them in Lamb’s Tales from Shakspere, or some such form, before we launch into the play itself. With older pupils this will not be required. With them the kind of preparation we should give would be rather a very simple talk about those moral laws of which Shakspere is the inspired teacher. Children of sixteen years of age, or thereabouts, are easily interested in problems of character, and it is well to explain to them something of what we understand by character and how it may be built up or undermined, rousing their consciousness to realise what their own moral experience has been, so that they look into themselves for confirmation of the facts with which the plays deal. Having done this, however, we must avoid tacking any specific “moral” to a play. Shakspere teaches, like life, by indirection, and we have to consider his plays as pictures of life, not as tracts against particular vices.

In bringing before a class the characters of a play, we should first form a clear conception of them ourselves. Shakspere’s people are so complex that many different views can be taken of them, and no thoughtful estimate is without its value. But it is most important that no statement about a character should be unsupported by evidence from the text. Adherence to this rule will save the teacher from making fancy sketches of her own, and will also make her shun those little text-books which give catalogues of qualities attached to each name, bringing no image whatever before the mind, and destroying all true realisation of the character. We should not be satisfied until we have made the chief characters in the play we are reading so real to our children that they would recognise them if they met them in the street.

When we have clearly realised the characters we shall be able to see the drift and the force of the play, and to show our children how the persons develop and change under the stress of circumstances and according to the absolute decrees of the moral law. To convey this teaching, all steeped in poetry of the richest kind, should be the purpose of a Shakspere lesson; and the notes that are learnt should be subordinate to that end. Our work must not be less thorough than it usually is at present, but it may well be less pedantic.

The reading of a play usually takes up a course of lessons, so that it is impossible in this space to give notes on any particular one, but the same principles which guided us in our treatment of a simple ballad will hold good here, and in the study of such longer poems as may be chosen for the reading of our class. Here as there we must first secure clear understanding of the language, then we must realise the images called up by it, and lastly yield ourselves in intelligent self-surrender to the poet’s thought, not obtruding our own personality but letting him lead us where he will, feeling ourselves, and teaching our class to feel, a deep reverence for what he has to say to us.

The reading of prose may be treated in much the same way, bearing in mind the fact that the emotional element is less marked in prose, the appeal being rather to reason than to feeling. Such prose as has become a part of literature is, however, largely imaginative, and we have to teach the children not only to follow closely a train of reasoning and to criticise it, if need be, but also to appreciate the means by which the writer makes his thought vivid to us, what figures he uses, what light he flashes upon his subject. Some of Macaulay’s Essays, Addison’s Essays, Rasselas, and similar works may well be read at this stage for the sake of the training they give in the right use of language, the first element of literary cultivation.

The most advanced stage—the study of the history of literature.The teaching of a period of the history of literature is a matter on which only broad general principles can be laid down. Children of fourteen to sixteen can hardly be expected to realise clearly differences in style or treatment, or to be able to write criticisms on the poets of the period. With them, it will be best to make them acquainted with the lives of the chief writers, as far as may be necessary, and then to let them read as much as they can of their works. We can teach them to love choice expressions, to recognise beauty of thought, to appreciate true imagination. They may not be able to say why they like these things, but they need not like them the less for that. With older pupils, capable of taking in general ideas as to the drift of thought in any particular age, the period to be studied should be set against its historic background, the first lessons being devoted to discussion of the stage of cultivation reached at the time, and the influences which had tended to produce it. For instance, a course on the Elizabethan period would require introductory lessons on the Renaissance as it affected England, on the Reformation in its bearing on education and freedom of thought, on the discovery of America and the spirit of adventure connected with it, and on the social and political conditions of the times. With clear conceptions on these points to start from, it will be easy to follow the art movement in poetry during the period, the growth of the drama, the development of prose writing in its various branches, and the students will be in possession of information which will help them to understand why Spenser, Shakspere, Bacon and our Authorised Version belong to that age and to no other. Then the chief authors should be read as far as possible at first hand, and the very cheap editions which are published of all our classics make it easy for the class to come provided with their own books. It will not be possible to read many of the longer works through with the class, but selection can be made of the choicest passages, and these can be linked together by a short analysis of the rest.

During this stage the sense of style should be carefully cultivated. Differences in style may be shown by comparing examples of the treatment of similar themes by different writers; for instance, in poetry, “Lycidas,” Gray’s “Elegy,” Adonaïs, and Thyrsis, might be studied with this aim, while in prose, selected essays of Bacon, Cowley, Addison and Lamb might be used in the same way. Taste must also be trained, and it should be made as catholic as possible; each author should be enjoyed for his own special excellence, Dryden for his vigour and common-sense, no less than Sir Thomas Browne for his “moth-like flitting” in intellectual twilight.

A suggestion for reading-courses adapted for girls of different ages is subjoined. It is not, and could not be, in any sense complete, but it may serve to help those who have not yet had much experience to estimate the character and scope of the reading that may be expected from children of various ages. Except in the case of the youngest children, the choice of books has been made so as to include prose and poetry of different epochs, and thus make the intellectual outlook wider than it could be if the reading were restricted to the works of one particular age. A girl who had read through the books mentioned in this course, or any drawn up on similar lines, would have a fair all-round acquaintance with the best kind of literature by the time she was eighteen.

PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION.

By Dorothea Beale.

The third division of Part I. has to do with man as subject, a person, self-conscious, related to other persons and to One All-embracing Personality in whom all live and move and have their being. I am to treat the subject from an intellectual point of view—religion, ethics, philosophy.

Sphere of school instruction.No school, and especially no day-school for girls, is responsible for the whole of the religious education. The school is the link between infancy and mature life, between the home and the world, the secular and the spiritual. The school has to systematise instruction, and bring it to bear on the daily tasks, on the social life, on the developing character; to make the secular and religious life one organic whole.

We have to teach our pupils, so that they may know the truth, feel nobly, and hence act rightly. We have to cultivate the power of thought by instruction, to purify the emotions by the teachings of history and poetry including the Bible and the utterances of heroic and saintly lives, to strengthen the character by the discipline of the mind, heart, will.

Relation of dogmatics to ethics.Emotion and action must be the expression of an intelligent belief. “He that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that seek Him.” We ought to offer the noblest gifts we can—a “reasonable service,” a devotion of heart, which rests upon the truest conception we can form; in the highest of all subjects there should be that clearness of apprehension, that strong conviction, which is necessary, if any truth is to become a practical power. We are so made that we must, if we think at all, theorise, and our acts will depend on our theories; no student of history can doubt this. Our sanitarians have found that we may teach the poor about the value of cleanliness and fresh air, but not until they understand the breathing functions do they act upon it.

So in deeper things, it is ideas that govern the world. When the Apostle would teach the most practical truths of family life and social virtue, he began with the great doctrines of the indwelling Divine life, of our brotherhood in Christ, of our citizenship in a spiritual Kingdom, extending far beyond the regions of sense. We must found Christian teaching upon definite beliefs accepted and felt to be true by the highest reason. We must not be satisfied with cultivating the affections only. There must be something more than an “enthusiasm of humanity,” something which can embrace and fulfil it, else it will blaze up like a bonfire, but soon die down, smothered under the ashes of pessimism. None of our faculties can be isolated from the others; each acts and reacts on each, the thought stimulating emotion, emotions quickening thought, and the life acting and reacting upon both. Ethics springs from dogmatics.

What do we mean by religion? Our age has been fertile in definitions. May we not say it is the power by which we enter into conscious personal relation with the One, the Eternal, the Father of all?

Religion as related to science and philosophy.Though it may be truly said that all knowledge of Nature is knowledge of God, we feel that there is a difference between the teaching of science and the teaching of religion—a distinction between the knowledge of a thing, or an act, which we may know objectively, and the knowledge of a person whom we know subjectively. We might know all the movements of a machine, but we never speak of knowing a machine. It is possible to know the works of God, and not know Him. It is personal sympathetic knowledge which is the chief factor in the education of character—the humanities are educative in a different sense from mathematics and natural science. It is this personal relation to God with which religious teaching has to do; its true end is to draw us into sympathy with the All-Good.

Two things I would here insist on which are sometimes overlooked. 1st. The child knows persons before things, and in the earliest exercises of will-power, it is the will of another that rules his will. 2nd. Through obedience to the higher intelligence, and trust in the love of another, the child is enabled to acquire right habits.

Fröbel’s religious teaching is very beautiful, but he brings out less clearly than Rosmini the priority of the personal; if Nature speaks to a child of the All-Father, it is because he knows that all has to come to him through persons, it is only much later that forces can be hypostatised, and power, justice, spoken of apart from a person; though this is, as Lotze has specially insisted, as inconceivable as is quality without substance—attribute without subject.

Piety in its double sense.First in the old sense of the word the child “worships” his parents and those to whom he looks up, he is miserable when he feels the displeasure of those with whom he is in sympathy, and their approbation is the sunshine of his soul; thus is he early led to think of the Father, to whom he and his parents owe all things, to whom they speak in prayer and whose unseen presence they feel.

Hymns then and prayers, which express the feelings of a child to a father, or the love to Jesus, and the desire to be like Him, are suitable; such as give rather the consciousness of a penitent reprobate, are sometimes heard at children’s missions, to the great sorrow of those who know how dangerous it is to play with the emotions and to excite terrors.

Consciousness and self-consciousness.We must consider first that the conscious life is only gradually developed; perceptions must become apperceptions by the controlling power of attention; very gradual is the dawn of consciousness, marked as Rosmini thinks by the first smile. So too there is an epoch at which self-consciousness seems to awaken. Maurice and other philosophers have marked the dawn of it by the use of the personal pronoun.