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 LETTERS 
 
 EARLY EDUCATION. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO J. P. GREAVES, ESQ. 
 
 PESTALOZZI. 
 
 Translated from the German Manuscript. 
 
 A MEMOIR OF PESTALOZZI. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SHERWOOD, GILBERT, ANB PIPER, PATERNOSTER ROW ; 
 HARRIS, CORNER OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD; 
 
 FFKINGIIAM WILSON, ROYAL EXCHANGE ', 
 
 DAKTON AND HARVEY, GRACECflURCH STREET; 
 
 AND HAILES, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1827.
 
 LONDON : 
 W. SEARS, PRINTER, 11, BUDGE ROW.
 
 Stack 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 WHEN the Translator, at the request of his imicli- 
 ?espected friend, to whom the following Letters are 
 addressed, undertook to revise the manuscript with ;i 
 view to its publication, he was fortunate enough to obtain 
 from PESTALOZZI, permission to make any alterations that 
 might become necessary from the circumstances under which 
 the letters had originally been written. 
 
 Of this privilege the Translator has availed himself 
 freely but not more so than he considered himself 
 authorised by the state in which he found the manuscript, 
 and his familiarity with PESTALOZZI'S views, which the 
 study of his works, and the recollection of the days 
 spent in his society, have tended to produce. However, 
 us he " who might have sanctioned the execution, as he 
 had encouraged the design, is now no more, the Translator 
 has the satisfaction to state, that the following sheets, 
 previously to their publication" have been submitted to 
 the eye of some of the warmest, as well as most enlightened 
 friends of PESTALOZZI. 
 
 And here the Translator might address himself to the 
 indulgence of his readers, and call their attention to the 
 
 2031358
 
 difficulties which, as a foreigner, he must necessarily have 
 had to encounter, in writing in a language not his own ; 
 but he prefers an appeal to their sense of justice, and 
 earnestly solicits, whenever the sentiment may be wanting 
 in perspicuity, or the expression in correctness, whenever, 
 from an attempt at distinctness, the impressive eloquence 
 of the original may have been " sicklied o'er with the pale 
 cast of thought," that these blemishes may be visited 
 solely on him, the Translator, and that the candid readers 
 may be guided by those passages which come home to their 
 bosoms with the genuine force of truth, and by those only, 
 in forming an idea of the views of the truly venerable 
 author. 
 
 LONDON, AUGUST 21, 1827.
 
 MEMOIR 
 
 THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 PESTALOZZI.
 
 " He, whene'er he taught, 
 Put so much of his heart into his act, 
 That his example had a magnet's force, 
 And all were swift to follow, whom all lov'd. 
 That sun is set ! O rise, some other such!"
 
 MEM 01 15, &c. 
 
 IF an individual, at tin- matured ;i-v of manhood, 
 resigns the enjoyment of ea>e and honourable indepen- 
 dence, and embarks in a task, from which uncommon 
 energies might have shrunk, and which ambition 
 would hold in scorn; if that individual, actuated by 
 motives of the purest benevolence, is not content to 
 alleviate the sufferings of the afflicted, or to hold out 
 rewards to persevering industry, but proceeds direct 
 to the sole aim of stopping the source of all the misery 
 that surrounds him ; if, indefatigable in his zeal, he 
 descends to the very humblest exertions of the hum- 
 blest sphere; if, heedless of the imputations of vain 
 enthusiasm, or of mischievous innovation, he pursues 
 his career, anxious only to meet theoretical doubts by 
 practical evidence; then we may be justified in 
 
 b a
 
 Vlll 
 
 inscribing his name among the list of those, whose 
 feelings and whose efforts, successful or not, have done 
 honour to mankind. 
 
 But if he does succeed; if he obtains results, and 
 commands acknowledgments, which bear full tes- 
 timony to the intrinsic truth, and the general utility of 
 his ideas; if, with a limited knowledge of facts, 
 he aims at combinations which had escaped the 
 scrutinising eye of philosophers, and with scanty means 
 and inferior instruments, achieves that which the more 
 highly gifted and favoured had attempted in vain ; if 
 he succeeds in conquering the prejudice of some, 
 and in interesting the indolence of others ; if the 
 number of those is daily increasing, who from cold 
 neglect proceed to cool examination, and from exami- 
 nation to genuine regard, and from regard to warm 
 approbation ; then we may say, that his name, com- 
 mended by merit, and illustrated by genius, has grown 
 on our esteem. 
 
 And if we learn the history of his plans, the vicis- 
 situdes of his life; if we see that individual, a republican 
 both by birth and by principle, meeting with the 
 cordial support of almost all the governments of the 
 Continent, and honoured with high personal distinctions 
 by the sovereigns of Russia, of Austria, and of Prussia ; 
 if his plans are approved of aud adopted, not only in his
 
 IX 
 
 own country, but throughout that extensive range of 
 provinces related to it by the bond of a common 
 language, and which have within these fifty years left 
 all other parts of the continent behind by their intellec- 
 tual efforts; if, in spite of that distinction he has the 
 mortification, by a strange combination of circum- 
 stances, to see obstacles thrown in the way of his own 
 immediate exertions, and while the efforts of others 
 were flourishing, to observe the seed of decay in that 
 creation, from which he had anticipated that the 
 joyous sight of its prospering youth should gladden 
 his old age; if an unparalleled brilliancy of general 
 success could not rescue him from the poignant 
 experience of numberless individual disappointments ; 
 but if, after an active career of more than fifty, and a 
 life of more than eighty years, that individual has 
 breathed his last, separated from his friends, and from 
 the scene of his late success, and yet with the fullest 
 confidence that the results of his efforts shall survive, 
 and the aim to which his existence was devoted, shall 
 be finally accomplished ; if that confidence is re-echoed 
 by the number of those who had loved and revered 
 him, and their number is equal to those who in 
 different countries had known his person or examined 
 his works; these facts may well be calculated to 
 excite sonic deeper interest in the fate of the man to
 
 x 
 
 whose life they belong, and in the character of his 
 cause. 
 
 That man was PESTALOZZI,- and the cause he 
 pursued was that of popular education. 
 
 HENRY PESTALOZZI was born at Zurich, the 12th 
 of January, 1 745. He soon lost his father, an esteemed 
 physician, and his education was superintended by 
 some distant relatives. At school Henry was soon known 
 to be " no common boy ;" he evinced great energy of 
 character on several occasions. His benevolence was 
 unbounded, and together with it he manifested at an 
 early age an irrepressible spirit of indignation at every " 
 thing that appeared calculated to injure the helpless, or 
 to promote selfish enjoyment at the expence of others. 
 When a youth, history, and especially that of classical 
 antiquity, and of his own country, constituted his 
 favourite study. It furnished him with ample mate- 
 rials for thought: not satisfied with a passive admira- 
 tion for distinguished characters, he inquired into the 
 motives of actions, and traced the consequences of 
 events; he watched the rise and progress of social 
 institutions ; in viewing the fate of nations, he never 
 lost sight of the feelings of individuals; the brightest 
 page of history, on which he would dwell with genuine 
 enthusiasm, presented to him the result of human 
 genius, of human exertions, and of human sufferings;
 
 X! 
 
 n-uggles for the prerogatives of a fcw. and the 
 rights of the many, the comparison between splendour 
 and utility between schemes of national aggrandise- 
 ment, and the enjoyment of individual comfort, formed 
 frequent subjects of his incessant researches. 
 
 His time was divided between solitary meditations 
 and intense study. Among the results of the latter, 
 was a spirited translation of several speecltes of Demos- 
 thenes, and the composition of some essays, which he 
 then published, on the formation of character for 
 public life, and on the Spartan legislation. The fruits 
 of the former were a variety of plans, undigested, of 
 course, and unsupported by experience, but ingenious, 
 and sprung from a generous heart, for the improvement 
 'of popular institutions, and an equal, or at feast, an 
 equitable distribution of wealth. 
 
 From excessive study he fell into a severe illness, amd 
 when he had recovered, he at once altered his plan of 
 life, and abandoned his literary pursuits. He burnt all 
 his papers, gave up entirely the reading of books, 
 applied himself to the study of agriculture, and pur- 
 chased an extensive farm in the canton of Aargau. 
 
 At the age of twenty-two we find him living in 
 rural retirement, separated from all his former con- 
 nections. But how far different his retirement from 
 that of the fastidious, who, weary with imaginary
 
 Xlt 
 
 pleasures, are yet unable to enjoy real ones ; who feel 
 disgusted with society, and oppressed by solitude ! 
 PESTALOZZI was disgusted with the artificial system 
 of society, with its heartless enjoyments, and its vain 
 professions : the little, the very little that he had yet 
 seen of it, was more than sufficient to prompt him to 
 escape its trammels, without either insulting or shun- 
 ning its pale. He would value it, not as a source of 
 gratification, but as a sphere of useful exertion. He 
 never affected to despise, but he endeavoured to cure 
 the follies of men, He felt revolted by the pride and 
 the selfishness of the higher orders, in the same mea- 
 sure as he was touched by the misery of the labouring 
 classes and the poor. He conceived justly, that there 
 was no hope of ever benefitting the latter, without an 
 exact knowledge of their wants, such as might be 
 acquired by constant observation, or of convincing the 
 former of their culpable supineness, without setting the 
 example of a disinterested and active part in the relief 
 of the poor. He was deeply impressed with the con- 
 viction of the inefficacy of all those plans which are 
 laid down in the closet, or derived from books, and 
 unsupported by an intimate acquaintance with life. 
 
 Experience taught him to look to the deficiency of 
 education as the principal source of the misery by 
 which he was surrounded. The want of all the com-*
 
 Xlll 
 
 forts of life was, in most cases, the consequence of 
 the want of an education, which might have enabled 
 the individual to obtain an honest livelihood. But far 
 the greater evil was the demoralization, which mue! 
 necessarily ensue when childhood has been neglected, 
 and youth exposed to all the temptations of life, under 
 scanty circumstances, unprotected by principle, and 
 unassisted by habits of industry. 
 
 PESTALOZZI determined to try what education 
 might do even for those who were taken from the 
 dregs of the people, and who were not intended to be 
 raised above an humble walk in life, but in which they 
 might move as honest and useful members of society. 
 He received into his house fifty children, most of them 
 orphans of the poorest class, or children of vagabond 
 beggars. He had a share in an extensive cotton manu- 
 factory, which was constructed on his own estate. 
 In this, and in some agricultural occupations, the 
 children were employed, and at the same time treated 
 in the kindest manner, and with the most careful 
 attention to their wants. PESTALOZZI himself acted 
 as a father to them all, not only by thus providing for 
 them, but by undertaking the superintendence of the 
 whole of their education, and giving them all the 
 instruction that might be useful in their circumstances. 
 In teaching them, he followed a most original plan,
 
 XiV 
 
 which enabled him to conduct large classes, to occupy 
 all, and yet to fix the attention of every individual 
 child separately. Sometimes he would teach them, 
 while they were employed in some easy manual labour, 
 or he would converse with them, to communicate to 
 them useful information, and to draw out and develope 
 their judgment Some exercises were at that time 
 novel, and had never been practised with the same 
 perfection in larger schools ; for instance, mental calcu- 
 lation, in which they acquired such skill and facility; 
 that PESTALOZZI himself was obliged to follow them 
 on the slate, to ascertain the correctness of their solu- 
 tions, which were given much more rapidly than he 
 could have obtained them. 
 
 It will be readily conceived, that children thus cir- 
 cumstanced, derived the greatest benefit from his kind 
 and unremitting care, and that he succeeded most 
 completely in the moral management of pupils, all of 
 them devoted to him by the strongest ties of gra- 
 titude. 
 
 With this establishment he went on for fifteen years, 
 without the least support of any private individual or 
 public body. Keeping up as he did the whole, by his 
 own means, his property was reduced, and must at 
 length have been exhausted. The merit of his personal 
 sacrifices, and the benevolence of his intentions, was
 
 XV 
 
 never questioned.; but he was considered an enthu- 
 siast, who would ruin himself by an undertaking, 
 which, though calculated to do good, was by no 
 means judicious in one who might spend his time, 
 and enjoy his existence, in a more profitable manner. 
 
 The longer PESTALOZZI persevered in his owneflbrts 
 at Neuhof, unassisted as he was, the firmer grew his 
 conviction that education was the principal means 
 not only for a partial or transitory melioration of the 
 state of the lower classes, but for that end which had 
 been the early object of his patriotic dreams the 
 ( 'mancipation of the people from the thraldom of 
 ignorance and oppression, and of the numberless evils 
 springing from both. But the more he gave himself 
 up to these ideas the more attentively be examined 
 the actual state of those by whom he was surrounded, 
 and the means for improvement which that state, 
 however degraded, would still suggest to any one who 
 knew how to wield them the more did he feel the 
 necessity of another principle of a more efficient 
 nature, than any system of instruction in a school 
 could ever present. He looked round for some 
 ground the most extensive, on which to begin, 
 and for some power the most irresistible in its 
 action, by which to animate the new system of 
 improvement. 
 
 c2
 
 XVI 
 
 Then it was that the thought occurred to him a 
 thought so natural, so familiar to every one, but so 
 little seen in that light in which it then flashed on 
 his mind that the earliest, the most extensive, the 
 best adapted ground for education, is no other than 
 that same domestic circle in which the infant years 
 are now spent without the benefit of a kind and 
 salutary direction, and but too frequently under the 
 baneful influence of bad example : and that the most 
 energetic power in the whole range of the moral 
 world, sympathy, and affection; and, if any, of all 
 human affections the one whose motive is free from 
 any baser alloy, maternal love, was the power to be 
 gained for the great object he had in view. 
 
 That thought at once held that undivided possession 
 of his mind, which a familiar thought will sometimes 
 acquire from a novel combination: it inspired him 
 with the most sanguine hopes, and was, from that 
 moment, the nucleus, the luminous centre of all his 
 plans and his efforts. 
 
 He repeated, considerately, the word of his first 
 enthusiasm : " No, the moral elevation of the people 
 is not a dream : the power that shall effect it, shall be 
 in the keeping of the mother of the infant in the 
 impregnable guard of innocence; let no man say that 
 popular improvement is a dream."
 
 XVII 
 
 That first enthusiasm was not a transient one. It 
 would be awakened in all its original vividness, on 
 every occasion that might present an excitement ; and 
 even when latent, its energising influence was to him a 
 source of incessant activity, of patience, and perseve- 
 rance in the most arduous task. 
 
 Could the writer of these lines enumerate all the 
 difficulties, all the causes of pungent disappoint- 
 ment and of protracted mortification the parting 
 with fondly cherished prospects all the baulked 
 hopes and frustrated designs, which, after the dream 
 of youth was over, filled a large portion of the 
 subsequent years of PESTALOZZI'S life ; could he 
 depict that utter forgetfulness of self, that unqualified 
 sacrifice of individual interest and comfort, which 
 rendered him greater even in his sufferings than 
 in his success;* could he then venture upon any 
 thing like a description of the man, such as he was 
 when under the influence of that same inspiring 
 thought such as he who writes has seen him but 
 a few years ago, warmed in conversation with friends, 
 all of them his juniors by more than fifty years, on 
 the subject in which his soul was merged when 
 
 * I'm val d'ogni vitturia un bel soffrire."
 
 XX 
 
 industrial pursuits on the morals and the happiness 
 of the people, on the value of property and of labour, 
 and, last not least, it suggests matured plans for the 
 adoption of salutary measures, which were based 
 upon facts, and which afterwards stood the test of 
 experience. 
 
 Education, of course, constitutes a prominent 
 feature of those proposed measures. An individual is 
 introduced, who, from motives closely related to those 
 of PESTALOZZI, and in a situation like his own,*deter- 
 mines upon overcoming prejudice by practice, and 
 taking an active part in the execution of a new^system. 
 The difficulties of the task, and the insufficiency of 
 mere theory, are clearly illustrated; and the final 
 result is, that a man, with the advantage of thought 
 and knowledge, has yet recourse, as to the best 
 standard, to the example and assistance of a mother. 
 
 Gertrude is a mother. And if it is but too true, 
 that there are not many mothers like Gertrude, and 
 that none can be more deeply inspired, or more 
 intimately elevated by maternal feeling, let no man 
 say that there are not thousands, who, in the situ- 
 ation in which they are placed, with the facilities 
 which they command, might be active to an infinitely 
 wider extent than she, had they but the feeling of a 
 Gertrude.
 
 There is scarcely an instance in the works of any 
 popular writer, of a standard character, endowed in a 
 work of fiction with a local habitation, and a 7wm," 
 that would at all furnish a parallel to the popularity of 
 the name of Gertrude. Throughout the countries, in 
 which PESTALOZZI'S work has long since been placed 
 on a level with the first performances of genius, which 
 advocate the cause of humanity, Gertrude's namerecals 
 to the mind of the high and the low the image of one 
 of the most beautiful characters of which fiction may 
 boast, or which life may rival. Among the writers 
 who have done justice to the merits of PE&TALOZZI'S 
 work, and whose vote well deserves a hearing, it is but 
 fair to record one, who, although moving in a sphere 
 of society, and known for peculiar shades of character, 
 which would not much promote the relish of the 
 simple and unpretending graces of a sketch like that qf 
 Gertrude, has yet in this, as in other instances, fully 
 established hex claims to the fame of the most tasteful 
 and liberal-minded critic, who ever wrote in her 
 
 language. -^M** 
 
 But the high character of " Leonard and Gertrude" 
 
 is advocated more powerfully than by the eloquent 
 
 encomium of Be Stael, by the sympathy and the 
 
 success of those, who, not content to admire, found 
 
 d
 
 a source of new delight in realising the sentiments 
 which it illustrated. 
 
 In the mean time, he who had first given them 
 utterance, found his own progress daily more impeded, 
 and his endeavours, not deserted, for they had 
 never been supported, but more and more de- 
 prived of the prospects which he had still entertained 
 of their cause becoming national : approval and 
 admiration are but a poor return for the efforts 
 of one who wants assistance for a philanthropic 
 end; and the more truly he is disinterested, the more 
 painfully must he be alive to the approach of circum- 
 stances which threaten to annihilate what has been 
 achieved by sacrifices felt only where they failed. It 
 was no longer possible for him to go on with his plan 
 of providing for the poor atNeuhof ; he was compelled, 
 by imperious necessity, to resign the task which to 
 him had been full of delight. He did so, with the 
 consciousness that hundreds of children had been 
 saved from a state of helplessness or corruption ; and 
 not without the confidence for the future, that in spite 
 of the gloomy prospects of the present, "the burning 
 flax should not be quenched, nor the bruised reed 
 broken." But his hope grew fainter and fainter, 
 and he fell into a state of melancholy, which
 
 would have plunged any one else into permanent 
 indolence. 
 
 Then it was, that the calamities of his country roused 
 him once more to a sense of his powers, which had 
 been eclipsed by his own disasters. The sufferings of 
 Switzerland, during the revolution and the war, may 
 be supposed to be know n to English readers, at least 
 from the feeling and poetic picture of " The Wanderer 
 in Switzerland." The fury of war, the havoc of 
 desolation, burst upon one canton after the other, and, 
 in the language of the poet just now alluded to, 
 
 " the country's life retired, 
 
 Slowly driven from part to part ; 
 UNDER WALDEN lust expired, 
 UMDKRWJJLDEN WM the heart." 
 
 Into Underwalden PESTALOZZI went. The most 
 desolate spot of the most desolate canton, the " deserted 
 village" of Stanz, was to be Uie scene of his exertions. 
 There were several among the members of the newly- 
 established Directory of Switzerland, who had been 
 interested in his ideas ; some of them men of enlightened 
 sentiments and of true patriotism, who conceived that 
 the time was at hand for the regeneration of their 
 country, and who saw, or fancied they saw, in the great 
 events of the day, in the convulsive struggle of a 
 neighbouring nation, and of their own, the signal of 
 d2
 
 xxiy 
 
 a new era in history. They were not singular in 
 their anticipations ; and if they proved too sanguine, 
 they might ^easily be pardoned for sharing in the 
 general enthusiasm, which pervaded the continental 
 nations, as though they had been bound by one 
 electric chain, which was then struck by a long con- 
 cealed flash of lightning. These men looked forward 
 to the new order of things for the restoration of nati- 
 onal independence ; they hoped that the day was not 
 far distant, when they might hail the revival of 
 
 " TELL'S great spirit, from the dead 
 
 Returned to animate an age forlorn." 
 
 Among those best fitted to speak to that spirit, they 
 conceived that there was the man, who had so elo- 
 quently pleaded, and so generously promoted, the 
 cause of national education. 
 
 For a further trial of his ideas, PESTALOZZI was 
 to open an asylum for the children of the inhabitants 
 of Stanz and the neighbourhood, whose houses and 
 fields lay in ashes. He cheerfully undertook the 
 mission, exulting in the opportunity of a public trial, 
 and heedless of the sacrifice by which it was 
 attended. 
 
 His problem was to take the charge of seventy 
 children, most of whom had passed the few years
 
 of their lives in poverty and neglect, while other 
 had fust been deprived of the indulgence or the 
 comforts of home ; who resembled each other in 
 one characteristic only, in ignorance, and habitual 
 idleness ; whose parents were dissatisfied with the 
 new administration, and prejudiced against PESTA- 
 LOZZI'S person, not only because he was the organ 
 of that government, but still more so because he was 
 a Protestant, they themselves having been brought 
 up in the darkest bigotry of Roman Catholicism ; 
 children, who were incessantly instigated by their 
 relatives against the discipline to which they had 
 been submitted with reluctance; who were then all 
 assembled in a building which was newly constructed, 
 and not then quite finished, when it was assigned 
 for the school: among them stood PESTALOZZT, un- 
 befriended, unassisted, but by the odious authority of 
 an unpopular magistracy, with no individual near him 
 who could have entered into the spirit, or taken part 
 in the execution of his views. Thus situated, his 
 task was scarcely less difficult than that of one, who 
 stands alone among a savage tribe, and who labours 
 " to tame them, to teach them, to turn them to 
 men." And yet he never hesitated one moment to 
 assert with confidence, " that the state of those chil- 
 dren should be altered with no less celerity than the
 
 XXVI 
 
 vernal sun alters the bleak appearance of a wintry 
 soil." And well might he add, in his relation of 
 the result, " I was not disappointed ; before the snow 
 of our mountains melted under the influence of the 
 
 vernal sun, those children could no longer have been 
 
 i 
 recognised as the same beings they came to me." 
 
 If it be asked by what magic PESTALOZZI wrought 
 that ( hange, the simple answer is, by complete self- 
 devotion to his task. He shared all the privations of 
 the children ; he was with them at their prayers, their 
 instructions, at their work, and their recreations ; the most 
 conscientious father, the most affectionate mother, could 
 not have done more than he did for them, animated as 
 he was by that love which, "holds no office mean," 
 that "entire affection" which, " scorneth nicer hands." 
 
 His first object was, to emulate the spirit, and to 
 produce the results of the most perfect domestic educa- 
 tion. Accordingly having gained their confidence for 
 himself, he inspired them with that affection for each 
 other, which ought to be the leading feature of every 
 domestic circle- He trusted little in precept ; but he was 
 fully conscious that his own example was irresistible; 
 and he built all his expectations on the developement, 
 in their own breasts, of those feelings which would 
 effectually gain them over to every thing that was good. 
 All his regulations tended to this effect, that they
 
 xxvii 
 
 should be aware they coull feel themselves happy only 
 when they were goo<l. Thus ail his measures were 
 |>o\verfully seconded by a short but impressive appeal 
 to their own judgments, which will never remain 
 behind, when true feeling leads the way. 
 
 But let not this be mistaken for a system of refined 
 selfishness, which holds out the gratification of self as 
 the motive for goodness. It was not by the gratification, 
 but it was positively by the act of giving up those desires 
 which were merely selfish, that they were led to a 
 feeling of happiness. All could feel happy in that 
 state only when every one, for the benefit of all 
 others, resigned a portion of that which he might have 
 claimed for himself in preference to the rest Th.e 
 very submission to the rules of discipline, which 
 becomes necessary for the maintenance of order 
 among a large number of pupils; the giving up of 
 trifles, which, though harmless in themselves, would 
 disturb the tone and character of the whole, are no 
 slight imposition on the spirits of children, and more 
 especially of such who have hitherto been entirely un- 
 disciplined. But the motive for the abandonment even of 
 these trifles being affection, the imposition was not felt, 
 and happiness was concomitant to those very acts, 
 which, if required on other grounds, must have been 
 attended by ill humour or alienation. This manage-
 
 ment, if it is based upon an inexhaustible stock of 
 benevolent feeling, requires also a great measure of 
 firmness, which is so seldom found allied to it; 
 but it is solely the joint action of those two qualities, 
 which, though it is not intended to supersede punish- 
 ment, when it becomes necessary, but rather to render 
 it more effectual, at the same time is calculated to 
 prevent, iji the great majority of cases, the necessity 
 of punishment. 
 
 This principle of moral education, which consti- 
 tutes a prominent feature of PESTALOZZI'S plans, will 
 not be found undeserving of attention, when it is 
 remembered, that if generally kept in view, it might ewe? 
 the heart-ache, that, under the prevailing systems of 
 the day, youth is heir to. Instead, therefore, of apo- 
 logizing for having dwelt upon it in this place, the 
 writer of these lines begs leave to add the mention 
 of one fact, which may throw additional light on the 
 subject. 
 
 The neighbouring village of Altdorf was destroyed 
 by fire. PESTALOZZI assembled his flock round 
 him, and addressed them :" Children, Altdorf lies 
 in ashes. Do you recollect the day when you 
 first came here,in want of every thing, some of 
 you shivering with cold, others suffering from
 
 disease others subject to ill treatment but all with- 
 out a feeling of affection for others, or of happiness 
 within yourselves. Such are the children of the Alt- 
 dorfers this day. You feel happy you have the 
 benefit of useful instruction you take pleasure in 
 what is good. Shall we solicit our government to 
 send us twenty of the children of Altdorf, that they 
 may enjoy the same ?" The answer was unanimous, 
 and given with visible joy. But PESTALOZZI proceed- 
 ed: " Do not be too rash in your advances. There 
 are thousands to be provided for, and if we receive the 
 children from Altdorf, I cannot promise you that our 
 allowance shall be increased. We may have to 
 give up some of our comforts if we share with 
 them, we may have to impose privations on ourselves." 
 But the children persisted in their offer ; for it came 
 from the heart. 
 
 This trait will speak to the truth of PESTALOZZI'S 
 views in moral education, and it will serve to illustrate 
 how unlike his lessons of morality were to those of 
 common teachers. His principle was, to awaken the 
 feeling, and then to give it a name, and, when it was 
 alive, to substantiate it as a rule of action. The 
 words which he made use of were few, and plain ; 
 but springing from intimate conviction, they were 
 appropriate; and meeting a congenial feeling in his
 
 hearers, they could not fail of being impressive. But 
 let not any one presume, however well his talents 
 and his accomplishments might enable him to convey 
 instruction, let him not presume, that he shall ever 
 be able to influence the character of his pupils, to 
 obtain by affection what authority cannot, command, 
 to animate them with zeal for that which is good, 
 unless he can find it in his heart to resign every selfish 
 motive, whether tending to ambition vile ambition, 
 wherever it stands in the way of generous sentiment, 
 or connected with the still more contemptible desire 
 of filthy lucre unless he can give himself up to his 
 task with cheerful self-devotion. For the task of 
 education, when it is resorted to from any other 
 motive, is indeed one of the lowest and actually 
 degrading employments of life; but when undertaken 
 in that spirit, which rises above the consideration 
 of self, however meanness may still deride, and imbe- 
 cility affect to hold it in contempt, it ranks among the 
 most honourable. 
 
 In the intellectual, as in the moral department of 
 education, PESTALOZZI was most anxious to put 
 an end to the exclusive dominion of words. This 
 must long since have been destroyed by an appeal to* 
 common sense, had not the principle of education 
 been almost constantly sacrificed to inferior and erro-
 
 XXXI 
 
 neous considerations. The question with most teach- 
 ers commonly is, What is this child expected to know, 
 if it shall do credit to my instruction ? The primary 
 considerations then are, prejudice, in every shape ; 
 prejudice of fashion, of fastidious refinement or of 
 unintellectual vulgarity or of literary pedantry ; the 
 wishes of parents and guardians and, above all, the 
 convenience and self-interest of teachers. Thus the 
 interest of the only individual who is to be benefitted 
 by education the interest of the child is the only 
 one that is never consulted. 
 
 PESTALOZZI maintains, that every plan of educa- 
 tion ought to be based on a consideration of the nature 
 of the child. 
 
 By the term, " the nature of the child," PESTA- 
 i.ozzi means, the child with all his innate faculties, 
 of which the lowest range contiguous to animal exist- 
 ence, and characterise him, though ' the paragon of 
 animals," the ttrnprrrit' Inhabitant of this earth; of 
 which the intermediate ones, with a variety of percep- 
 tions, of discursive thought, of transient affection, and 
 energies and talents, constitute him a member of society t 
 whether he may toil in its humbler walks, or sit at 
 the helm of affairs, or shine in art, or science, or 
 literature; but of which others speak of an higher, 
 and indeed the highest origin which enable him 
 e 2
 
 to read the riddle of life which bear up his courage, 
 and raise his spirit above its vicissitudes which teach 
 him how to steer his bark, to weather the gale, and 
 point to the cynosure that may guide him " to the 
 haven where we would be." 
 
 Having thus laid down an analysis of the different 
 faculties of human nature, PESTALOZZI proceeds to 
 observe that in developing them (which is the business 
 of education) it should be remembered, that their 
 germs are in existence in the child, and that only 
 when brought into play in their natural connection 
 with each other, they form, as they ought to do, an 
 organic whole; that in every individual they appear 
 under certain modifications, which render it necessary 
 that the strictest attention should be paid to the shades 
 of individual character and talent; that in different 
 stages of developement they require a different and 
 seasonable treatment; that what is commonly called 
 instruction is no more than the means applied to 
 develope and exercise these faculties; that the 
 application of these means ought to keep pace with the 
 state of the faculties fdr which they are calculated; 
 that in administering these means, the ultimate end of 
 existence, for which those faculties are implanted in 
 human nature, ought to be constantly kep in view; 
 and that the developement of any one of them, or the
 
 xxxni 
 
 perfection in any one branch of instruction, is valuable 
 only in proportion as it bears vpon that end. 
 
 Upon these principles PESTALOZZI has founded a 
 new system of instruction. His own first efforts at 
 Neuhof, and at Stanr, were, of course, imperfect, and 
 he has been the first to acknowledge it. The school 
 at Stanz had not subsisted a twelvemonth, when 
 he was compelled to give it up, the Canton being again 
 transformed into a scene of war, and Stanz being in the 
 power of the Austrians. PESTALOZZI went to Burgdorf, 
 and proceeded there to carry his ideas into execution. 
 He was now fortunate enough to attract the attention 
 of men, who where qualified by natural talent, more 
 than by acquired knowledge, and, more than both, by a 
 sincere wish for a better system, to assist him. In 
 union with them, a variety of plans were devised for 
 facilitating the elements of instruction, and adapting 
 them to the faculties of children at an early age. If 
 some of these plans partook of the nature and the 
 foibles of experiments, this was then the only way to 
 arrive at their aim, and might be excused by the 
 consideration, that " nothing new can be done except in 
 a new manner." 
 
 But at Burgdorf his labours were again interrupted. 
 By his " Leonard and Gertrude;" by a series of obser- 
 vations which he published, "On the Necessary Im- 
 provements in the Legislation of the Helvetian
 
 XXXIV 
 
 Republic ;" and by his unremitting disinterested efforts 
 he had so fully established his claims to the name of a 
 true patriot, that he was chosen by the people one 
 of the deputies whom they sent to Buonaparte, then 
 First Consul, (in 1802.) 
 
 On his return home, he resumed his occupations. 
 In 1804, his institution was transferred to Mitnchen 
 Buchsee, in the neighbourhood of the well-known 
 establishment of Fellenberg at Hofwyl. But a more 
 appropriate locale having become desirable, the 
 government of the Canton de Vaud invited him to 
 take his residence for his life in one of seven spacious 
 chateaux in the Canton, of which they left him the 
 choice. He determined on that of Yverdun, where 
 his own establishment was transferred, and where some 
 years after, similar institutions were founded on his plan. 
 In the mean time, the eyes of the most intelligent part 
 of the public in Switzerland and Germany were 
 directed on his endeavours; commissions were ap- 
 pointed and sent to Yverdun, by different foreign 
 governments, to inquire into the merits of the new 
 system. Some of the reports were published, and 
 contributed in rendering both Pestalozzi's plans and 
 his institution conspicuous.* Numerous pupils were 
 
 * Among these reports the first place is due to a work which contains 
 one of the best exposes now extant of PESTALOZZI'S views, by Julhen
 
 XXXV 
 
 sent to Yverdun, from England, France, Germany, 
 Italy, Russia, and even from Spain, where the system 
 was for some time intended to be introduced into all 
 the public schools. 
 
 The most animated discussions of the merits of 
 the new system took place in Germany. The press 
 was teeming with productions, some of them attacking 
 its utility, but the great majority espousing its cause; 
 with accounts of travellers of \ihat they had seen 
 practised at Yverdun, and with essays by independent 
 thinkers, on what they conceived ought to be practise*'. 
 The great advantages resulting from general discussion 
 were not lost upon the system. PESTALOZZI and his 
 friends were continually intent on imparting to their 
 ideas an higher degree of perfection, on developing 
 them in the most luminous manner, and giving 
 uncontrovertible evidence of their practical utility. 
 In this they succeeded as far as the general tenor of 
 them went, to the full satisfaction of many of their former 
 
 of Paris, whose name has long been honourably connected with the 
 cause of every liberal and philanthropic undertaking It was published 
 in 1812, at MiUn, under the title, Esprit de la Method* d'eduoalion de 
 PESTALOZZI, 2 vol. 8vo. Another welt-wri'.ten essay, which is the work 
 of intimate acquaintance with PCSTALOZZI'S system, has been published 
 by the Rev. D. A. Chavannes : Expos6 de la Methode de PESTAJLOZZI." 
 Paris. Levrault Schoell. 1805.
 
 antagonists. Men of the highest distinction in science 
 and literature thought it not beneath themselves to 
 give their votes, after close examination, in favour of 
 their principles, and to suggest improvements to the 
 plans for their execution. 
 
 The great desideratum, which was now the centre 
 of the joint efforts of a numerous body of men, was, 
 a complete arrangement of elementary knowledge, to 
 be brought before the pupils in the order which the' 
 nature of their faculties required. All parties were 
 agreed, that the first steps towards instruction, as well 
 as education in general, were obviously belonging to 
 the department of mothers, and that every thinking 
 mother would claim this as a privilege rather than 
 consider it as an imposition. Accordingly, specimens 
 of the simplest exercises were drawn up, as they came 
 under the different heads of language, form, and 
 number, such as every mother would by experience 
 find appropriate, and as the philosopher, from an 
 analysis, which is the most difficult, though the most 
 necessary, of the simplest truths, would approve of, 
 and as they might be practised with advantage in 
 every Infant School.* 
 
 * The friends of infant schools will be pleased to hear, that while the 
 above was going through the press, a prospectus and circular have been
 
 In these infant exercises, it is obvious, that the first 
 object of knowledge should be no other than the child 
 himself; and first of all, the physical nature of the 
 child namely, the principal parts of the body, the 
 general use of the limbs, and the senses. But while 
 the names are supplied, and the attention is thus drawn 
 towards them, exercises ought to accompany the 
 knowledge, and to give it at once a practical character, 
 by rendering the senses active and alert; accustoming 
 the eye to distinguish colour?, and the ear sounds; and 
 by strengthening and diversifying the different move- 
 ments of the body. This introduces infant gymnastics 
 a playful art, but which, if at a following period of 
 youth it is made to keep pace with the developement 
 of the mental energies and the formation of character, 
 is well fitted to co-operate in the task, 
 
 " To build up men against the future times." 
 
 The senses, of course, as the connecting medium. 
 
 received from Paris, in which a committee of ladies publish the first 
 annual report of a flourishing Infant School, of upwards of 80 children, 
 113, Rue du Bac, and invite the public to the foundation of similar 
 institutions. A curious fact has also been elicited by the late public 
 discussion of the subject iu Germany, namely, thai an Infant School ha* 
 ousted at Lippe Del mold, in Saxony, ever since the year 1802- 
 f
 
 lead to a consideration of the things of the material 
 world, beginning by those which are nearest and 
 stand in the most immediate relation to the child. 
 Here, while language has to furnish their names, ob- 
 servation has to point out their qualities, and expe- 
 rience, assisted by instruction, to teach their use and 
 nature. This leads a step higher; discrimination has 
 to distinguish between sentient and insentient, rational 
 and irrational objects ; and the very faculties which 
 constitute reason, are at once called into play, and 
 proposed as an object of observation and of exercise. 
 7'he qualities of material objects, too, are analysed, 
 and, by decomposing them into their parts, the ele- 
 ments of form and number are pointed out, and a 
 geometrical and arithmetical primer illustrates their 
 various combinations. But the material world, and 
 the lessons which it teaches, are not to arrest the atten- 
 tion of the child exclusively; the relation in which the 
 child stands to those of his own species, beginning 
 with the first and most endearing of the family circle, 
 awake a train of new ideas; feelings which had either 
 been slumbering, or acting only instinctively, become 
 objects of consciousness, ; and the highest truths, and 
 feelings, and duties, to which man is to be alive, are 
 adumbrated in conformity with that religious spirit 
 which ought to preside over infant education.
 
 XXXIX 
 
 On most of these subjects, hints will be found in the 
 little work to which these pages are to serve as an 
 introduction. For a more distinct and detailed account 
 of them, as also for a comprehensive view of the 
 plans which have been adopted for instruction in all 
 those branches of knowledge which are required for 
 any career in life, these pages can only contain a 
 general reference to the works of PESTALOZZI, and his 
 friends; and to the institutions which, in different 
 countries, are conducted upon their plans. As far as 
 regards the former, may the writer of these lines be 
 allowed to express a wish (and he might, perhaps, 
 allude to a hope), that at no distant period, those who 
 are more competent, in every respect, than he feels 
 himself, to the task, may lay before the friends of 
 education in this country the substance of what has 
 been proposed, and discussed, and executed, and that 
 its character may more and more be illustrated by 
 practical experience. 
 
 And here the writer of this Memoir will be expected 
 to resume the narrative, and bring it to a close. And 
 he would willingly do so, had he to speak of old age 
 rewarded as a life of uncommon vicissitudes and 
 activity might have deserved to be, by retirement 
 spent in ease, and leisure enjoyed with dignity. But 
 it is an ungrateful task to commemorate trifling events, 
 f2
 
 xl 
 
 which proved the source of protracted mortification. 
 It appears that one of the misfortunes incident on old 
 age, is the facility with which at the same time 
 caution may be supplanted, and the seeds of suspicion 
 oown. Add to which, a mind, absorbed in one leading 
 idea, rich in affection, forgetful not only of self-inte- 
 rest, but lacking also that discretion, which would 
 compass efficient means to the execution of a gene- 
 rous plan a mind powerful to command esteem, and 
 to engender sympathy, but less conspicuous for that 
 which the vulgar " would fain call master," a mind 
 habituated to penetrate deep into the ore of the phi- 
 losophy of human nature, and ready to devise inge- 
 nious plans for improvement, but utterly unequal to 
 the management, in all its details, of an extensive 
 establishment; and it will no longer be matter of 
 surprise, that circumstances should have occurred, 
 which at length rendered the continuation of PESTA- 
 tozzi's institution next to impossible. The conse- 
 quence most painful to PESTALOZZI'S feelings, was 
 the failure of a favourite plan, which he had long 
 entertained, of establishing, separately from the schooj 
 at Yverdun, which was chiefly composed of pupils of 
 the higher class, another institution exclusively for the 
 children of the poor, among whom the most talented
 
 xii 
 
 were to be educated as instructors and governesses oil 
 the new plau. 
 
 PESTALOZZI retired to his own Neuhof, to com- 
 plete the work which it was still in his power to 
 accomplish, the corrected and augmented edition of 
 his writings. Intent on this task, still inspired by 
 the idea, which alone survived the blasting of his hopes, 
 and the wreck of his affairs, he concluded his days 
 on the 17th of February 1827- 
 
 That the circumstances which prevented his h'nal 
 success, were entirely unconnected with the merit or 
 demerit of his system, is sufficiently proved by the 
 fact, that other institutions conducted on his plan, 
 not only in several parts of Switzerland (and among 
 them one at Yverdun), but dispersed through different 
 countries, are still going on, uninterrupted in increa- 
 sing prosperity; and that his ideas have been gaining 
 support in the same measure as the old system was 
 giving way to an impartial trial and to the progress 
 of experience and independent thought, And with 
 his name recollections are and shall continue to be 
 indissolubly allied, which speak of high genius, and of 
 the still higher dignity of character, of one who 
 " tros a wan, take him for all in all," and connected 
 wiih these associations, regret at the painful idea, 
 that we shall not " look upon his like again."
 
 xlii 
 
 Let it be recollected, also, that PESTAI.OZZI stands 
 not singular as one, who has aspired to the accomplish- 
 ment of plans of general utility, of which he was not to 
 see the fruits, or enjoy the full credit of their success. 
 Whether it be to evince that, in order to achieve 
 results of the widest extent, a confidence, and an 
 energy of self-devotion is requisite, which does not 
 shrink from any sacrifice to redeem a pledge given to 
 humanity ; or to teach us that the spirit of truth, 
 which presides over the progressive developement of 
 momentous ideas, chuses an individual for its instru- 
 ment only, and that the mould may be broken, and 
 the instrument destroyed, when Truth itself has 
 gained sufficient strength to make its way, and to 
 breathe its life into new organs ; but, at this day, 
 History speaks loud enough to the fact, that the 
 progress of ideas, though apparently linked to it, is 
 yet independent of the success, and superior to the 
 adversities of individuals. So let it be with those 
 truths, if indeed truths they be, which it has fallen 
 to the lot of PESTALOZZI to proclaim. 
 
 In the mean time, all that those who have a well- 
 founded conviction of their character as truths, would 
 claim in their favour, is, a candid examination of their 
 fundamental principles, not by the standard of any 
 peculiar system of philosophy, but by an independent
 
 xliii 
 
 nnalysis of human nature, and by the all-convincing 
 test of solid experience. For both, they have reason 
 to consider the present a suitable moment. The 
 persuasion, that " something is rotten" in the systems 
 of the day, or rather of the days that are gone by, is 
 gaining ground among the most enlightened part of 
 the public. Prejudice, and the still more powerful 
 bias of paltry interests, which plead in its favour, are 
 not now strong enough to delay the slow, but solid 
 pn-pnrations for impartial enquiry, and for effective 
 improvement Temporizing philosophy may, indeed, 
 administer palliatives for a while; but there is a 
 pledge in the spirit, and on every page of history, that 
 Truth must eventually prevail ; and it will be for 
 those, to whose persuasions it comes home, and whose 
 hearts respond to its call, to assist in redeeming it. 
 
 It may not be amiss to say two words on the claims 
 of novelty on the part of PESTALOZZI'S system. It 
 is obvious that ideas, which profess to be founded on 
 the rightly understood and unalterable principles of 
 human nature, must not lay claim to novelty, any 
 farther than regards the merit of their combination 
 and execution. Keeping this in view, it may not be 
 inconsistent in the friends of PESTALOZZI, with the 
 acknowledgments due to the merits of those who have 
 before him engaged in a similar cause, to apply to him
 
 xliv 
 
 a sentence which has been pronounced on another 
 occasion, by one of the ablest critics of the age. 
 Without going the length of maintaining, that " that man 
 is not the discoverer of any art, who first says the thing," 
 they might at least insist, that the principal merit is due 
 to him, " who says it so long, so loud, and so clearly, 
 that he compels mankind to hear him ; the man who is 
 so deeply impressed with the importance of the dis- 
 covery, that he will take no denial, but, at the risk 
 of fortune and fame, pushes through all opposition, 
 and is determined that what he thinks he has dis- 
 covered shall not perish for want of a fair trial.*" 
 
 In concluding this rapid sketch, the writer of these 
 lines is fully conscious of the peculiar situation in which 
 he finds himself placed. He has ventured to claim 
 a share of public attention in favour of ideas, of 
 which he has been giving but too faint an outline 
 writing in a language not his own, and within limits, 
 and why should he not be the first to confess it ? with 
 abilities little adequate to the task. Of his motives in 
 bringing out this publication, he declines making 
 mention. He deems it folly in a writer to take up 
 the time of his readers by a recital of individual 
 
 The Edinburgh Review, No. LXXXVJJ.
 
 xlv 
 
 motives. If he is conscious of having deserved credit 
 for the truth of his professions, they are useless ; if not, 
 it is very right, that professions should go for nothing. 
 But if he shall prove to have said little that was 
 new to those already interested in the subject, and still 
 less that was interesting to those to whom it is new ; 
 he would yet solicit the attention of MOTHERS to the 
 truths laid down in the following sheets. To the 
 MOTHERS he would pre-eminently inscribe this little 
 volume ; and, next to them, with great diffidence in 
 his own power to do justice to them, but with full 
 confidence in the intrinsic truth of the sentiments of 
 his author, he would inscribe it to THE FRIENDS OF 
 POPULAR EDUCATION.
 
 LETTERS.
 
 Then why resign into a stranger's hand 
 A task as much within your own command, 
 That God and Nature, and your feelings too, 
 Seem with oue voice to delegate to YOU i"
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 YVERDUH, OCT. 1, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 You require of me to point out to you, in a series of 
 letters, my views concerning the development of the 
 infant mind. 
 
 I am happy to see that you acknowledge the import- 
 ance of education in the earliest stage of life : a fact 
 that has almost universally been overlooked. The 
 philanthropic efforts, both of a former age, and of our 
 own, have been directed in general to the improvement 
 of Schools, and their various modes of instruction. It 
 will not be expected that I should say any thing tending 
 to depreciate such endeavours : the greater part of my 
 life has been devoted to the arduous aim at their com- 
 bination; and the results and acknowledgments I 
 have obtained, are such as to convince me that my 
 labour has not been in vain. But I can assure you, my 
 dear friend, from the experience of more than half a 
 century, and from the most intimate conviction of my 
 heart, founded upon this experience, that I should not
 
 consider our task as being half accomplished, I should 
 not anticipate half the consequences for the real benefit 
 of mankind, as long as our system of improvement 
 failed of extending to the earliest stage of education : 
 and to succeed in this, we require the most power- 
 ful ally of our cause, as far as human power may con- 
 tribute to an end which eternal love and wisdom have 
 assigned to the endeavours of man. It is on this altar 
 that we shall lay down the sacrifice of all our efforts; 
 and if our gift is to be accepted, it must be conveyed 
 through the medium of maternal love. 
 
 Yes ! my dear friend, this object of our ardent 
 desires will never be attained but through the 
 assistance of the mothers. To them we must ap- 
 peal; with them we must pray for the blessing 
 of Heaven ; in them try to awaken a deep sense 
 of all the consequences, of all the self-denials, 
 and of all the rewards attached to their interesting 
 duties. Let each take an active part in that most 
 important sphere of influence. Such is the aspiration 
 of an aged man, who is anxious to secure whatever 
 good he may have been allowed to promote or to con- 
 ceive. Your heart will unite with his : I feel it will. I 
 shake hands with you, as with one who fervently 
 embraces this cause not my cause, nor that of any 
 other mortal, but the cause of Him, who would have 
 the children of his creation, and of his providence, led 
 to himself in the ways of love. 
 
 Happy should I be, if I might one day speak through 
 your voice to the mothers of Great Britain. How does 
 my glowing heart expand at the opening prospect which 
 has this moment filled my imagination ! To behold a 
 great and mighty nation, known of old to appreciate with
 
 equal skill the glory of powerful enterprize, and the silent 
 joys of domestic life, intent upon the welfare of the rising 
 generation ; establishing the honour and happiness of 
 those who shall one day stand in their place ; securing 
 to their country her glory and her liberty, by a moral 
 elevation of her children ! And shall not the heart of 
 a mother bound in the consciousness that she too is to 
 have her share in this immortal work ?* 
 
 This WM written in 1818. Pestalozzi's hopes bare not been dis- 
 appointed, the simple but evident fact which pleads for their importance, 
 is the establishment and progress of INFANT SCHOOLS. 
 
 B 2
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 OCTOBER 3, 18J8. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 Ouu great object is the development of the infant 
 mind, and our great means, the agency of mothers. 
 
 A most important question then presents itself at the 
 very outset of our inquiries. Has the mother the 
 qualifications requisite for the duties and exercises we 
 would impose on her? 
 
 1 feel myself bound to enter into this question, and 
 to give it, if possible, an answer fully decisive, request- 
 ing your attention to the subject, as I feel persuaded, 
 that if my views coincide with your own, you will 
 agree with the reasoning founded on my statement. 
 
 Yes ! I would say, the mother is qualified, and qua- 
 lified by her Creator himself, to become the principal 
 agent in the development of her child. The most ardent 
 desire for its good is already implanted in her heart ; and 
 "what power can be more influential, more stimulative, 
 than maternal love ? the most gentle, and, at the same 
 time, the most intrepid power in the whole system 
 of nature. Yes: the mother is qualified, for Providence 
 has also gifted her with the faculties required for her 
 task. And here I feel it necessary to explain what is the 
 task I refer to as peculiarly hers. It is not any thing 
 beyond her reach 1 would demand, it is not a certain
 
 degree or description of knowledge, usually implied in 
 what is vulgarly called a finished education, though, if 
 she happen to possess such knowledge, the day will 
 come for opening her treasury, and giving to her chil- 
 dren what she may choose: but at the period we speak 
 of, all the knowledge acquired in the most accomplished 
 education, would not facilitate her task; for what I 
 would demand of her is only A THINKING LOVE. 
 
 Love, of course, I presume to be the first requisite, 
 and that which will always present itself, only modi- 
 fied, perhaps, under various forms. All I would request 
 of a mother, would be, to let her love act as strongly as 
 it may, but to season it, in the exercise, with thought. 
 
 And I should indeed entreat a mother, by the very 
 love which she bears to n*er children, to bestow a mo- 
 ment of calm reflection on the nature of her duties. I 
 do not mean to lead her into an artificial discussion ; 
 maternal love might be lost in the maze of philosophical 
 investigation. But there is that in her feelings, which, 
 in a shorter way, by a more direct process, may lead 
 her to truth. To this I would appeal. Let it not 
 be concealed from her, that her duties are both easy 
 and difficult ; but I hope there is no mother that has 
 not found the highest reward in overcoming impedi- 
 ments in such a cause : and the whole of her duties 
 will gradually open before her, if she will but dwell 
 upon' that simple, yet awful and elevating idea, " My 
 children are born for eternity, and confided expressly to 
 me, that I may educate them for being children of God." 
 
 " Mother !" I would say to her, "responsible mother ! 
 look around thee ! what diversity of pursuits, what 
 variety of calling! some agitated in the turmoil of a
 
 restless life ; others courting repose in the bosom of 
 retirement. Of all the different actors that surround 
 thee, whose vocation appears most sacred, most solemn, 
 most holy ? * Doubtless his, thou art ready to exclaim, 
 whose life is dedicated to the spiritual elevation of 
 human nature. How happy must he be, whose calling 
 it is to lead others to happiness, and happiness ever- 
 lasting.' Well ! happy mother ! his calling is thine. 
 Shrink not at the idea, tremble not at the comparison. 
 Think not I arrogate for thee a station beyond thy 
 leserts, fear not lest temptations to vanity lie hid in my 
 suggestion, but raise thy heart in gratitude to Him who 
 has entrusted thee with so high a province, try to 
 render thyself worthy of the confidence reposed in thee. 
 Talk not of deficiencies in tlTy knowledge, love shall 
 supply them ; of limitation in thy means, Providence 
 shall enlarge them ; of weakness in thy energies, the 
 Spirit of Power himself shall strengthen them : look to 
 that Spirit for all that thou dost want, and especially 
 for those two grand, pre-eminent requisites, courage zM 
 humility"
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 OCTOBER 7, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GttEAVES, 
 
 EVERY mother who is aware of the importance of 
 her task, will, I presume, be ready to devote to it all 
 her zeal. She will think it indispensable to attain a 
 clear view of the end for which she is to educate her 
 children. 
 
 I have pointed out this end in my last letter. But 
 much remains to be said on the means to be employed 
 in the first stage of education. 
 
 A child is a being endowed with all the faculties 
 of human nature, but none of them developed : a bud 
 not yet opened. When the bud uncloses, every one 
 of the leaves unfolds, not one remains behind. Such 
 must be the process of education. 
 
 No faculty in human nature but must be treated 
 with the same attention; for their co-agency alone 
 can ensure their success. 
 
 But how shall the mother learn to distinguish and 
 to direct each faculty, before it appears in a state of 
 development sufficient to give a token of its own exist- 
 ence? 
 
 Not indeed from books, but from actual observation. 
 
 I would ask every mother, who has observed her 
 child with no other end but merely to watch over its
 
 ^ " 8 
 
 safety, whether she has not remarked, even in the first 
 era of life, the progressive advancement of the 
 faculties ? 
 
 The first exertions of the child, attended with some 
 pain, have yet enough of pleasure to induce a repetition 
 gradually increasing in frequency and power; and when 
 their first efforts, blind efforts as it were, are once over, 
 the little hand begins to play its more perfect part. 
 From the first movement of this hand, from the first 
 grasp which avails itself of a plaything, how infinite is 
 the series of actions of which it will be the instrument ! 
 not only employing itself in every thing connected with 
 the habits and comforts of life, but astonishing the 
 world, perhaps, with some masterpieceof art, or seizing, 
 ere they escape, the fleeting inspirations of genius, 
 and handing them down to the admiration of posterity. 
 
 The first exertion of this little hand, then, opens 
 an immense field to a faculty which now begins to 
 manifest itself. 
 
 In the next place, the attention of the child is now 
 visibly excited, and fixed by a great variety of 
 external impressions : the eye and the ear are attracted 
 wherever a lively colour, or a rousing animating sound, 
 may strike them, and they turn, as if to inquire the cause 
 of that sudden impression. Very soon the features of 
 the child, and its redoubled attention, will betray the 
 pleasure with which the senses are affected, by the 
 brilliant colours of a flower, or the pleasing sounds of 
 music. Apparently the first traces are now making 
 of that mental activity which will hereafter employ 
 itself in the numberless observations, and combinations 
 of events, or in the search of their hidden causes, and
 
 which will be accessible to all the pleasing or painful 
 -. ii-atioiis which life, in its various shapes, may 
 
 . xcitr. 
 
 'Every mother will recollect the delight of her feel- 
 ings on the first tokens of her infant's consciousness 
 and rationality ; indeed, maternal love knows not a 
 higher joy than that arising from those interesting indi- 
 cations. Trifling to another, to her they are of infi- 
 nite value. To her they reveal an eventful futurity ; 
 they tell her the important story, that a spiritual being, 
 dearer to her than life, is opening, as it were, the eye of 
 intelligence, and saying, in its silent, but tender and 
 expressive language, " I am born for immortality." 
 
 But the last and highest joy, the triumph of maternal 
 love, remains yet to be spoken of. It is the look of 
 the child, to the eye of the mother, that look so full of 
 love, so full of heart, which speaks most emphatically 
 of its elevation in the scale of being. It is now a sub- 
 ject for the best gift bestowed on human nature. The 
 voice of conscience will speak within its breast; religion 
 will assist its trembling steps, and raise its eye to 
 Heaven. With these convictions the heart of the 
 mother expands with delight and solicitude: she 
 again hails in her offspring, not merely the citizen of 
 earth : " Thou art born," she cries, " for immortality, 
 and an immortality of happiness : such is Ihe promise 
 of thy heaven-derived faculties; such shall be the 
 consummation of thy Heavenly Father's love." 
 
 These then are the first traces of human nature unfold- 
 ing in the infantine state. The philosopher may take them 
 as facts constituting an object of study : he may use them
 
 10 
 
 as the basis of a system; but they are originally 
 designed for the mother, they are a hint from above, 
 intended at once as her blessing and encouragement 
 
 " For all her sorrows, all her cares, 
 An over-payment of delight!"
 
 II 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 October 18, 1818. 
 
 My DEAR GREAVUS, 
 
 WHEN a mother has observed in her child the first 
 traces of development, a new question suggests itself, 
 How shall these expanding faculties be directed? 
 which of them call for the most diligent attention, and 
 which may follow their natural course without requi- 
 ring any peculiar care bestowed on their growth and 
 regulation ? which, too, have the most important bearing 
 on the future welfare of the child ? 
 
 The last question, I suppose, will be decided unani- 
 mously in favour of the heart. I cannot suppose that 
 any mother is so morally and intellectually blind, as 
 consciously to decide on providing for the external 
 and temporal benefit of her child, at the expence 
 of his inward and eternal well-being. But she 
 may nevertheless be puzzled as to the relative impor- 
 tance of the faculties under her charge, and the conse- 
 quent proportion of attention they separately demand. 
 The heart has, indeed, a pre-eminent claim on her 
 attention. But is not the child directed and admonished 
 by the voice of conscience within ? Is he not able to 
 decide the great question of right and wrong, merely 
 by listening to this voice, without any particular instruc- 
 c '2
 
 12 
 
 tion from another ? And will not the time arrive, when 
 he becomes receptive of the truths of Religion, to con- 
 firm that voice within, and to give him that moral 
 elevation, the very idea of which is at present so far 
 beyond his reach ? 
 
 It would not he difficult to answer these questions, 
 and to put the whole subject in its true light. But 
 I would not offer to a mother any detailed plan for her 
 guidance, considering it as highly essential that she 
 should feel herself untrammelled by any thing like system, 
 the principles of which, not being her own, might only 
 prejudice and confine her opinions and practice, 
 without convincing her of any fitness or adaptation in 
 the given means, to the end proposed. Why'should 
 her mind be merely the reflection of another's, whose 
 views, perhaps, she can neither fathom nor appreciate ? 
 Is she not a mother ? and has her Creator, in fur- 
 nishing her with the springs of natural life for his 
 children, left her unqualified for administering to 
 that spiritual life which is the very end and essence 
 of all being? Is her relation to humanity of so 
 responsible a chaiacter, and shall not her intelligence 
 and energy be concentrated in this one focus ? Shall 
 not her whole existence be absorbed in the exalted 
 purpose, the unwearying effort, to accomplish the 
 end of her creation ? Nature, benevolence, religion, all 
 demand it ! and so unanimously, as to set the question 
 for ever at rest. 
 
 I would intreat of every mother to take a general 
 survey of life in all its varieties of aspect ; and where- 
 ever happiness presents itself, not merely in semblance, 
 but in substance, then to pause, and examine, if pos-
 
 13 
 
 sibli-, how that happiness is constituted, and whence 
 it originates. 
 
 It is more than probable, that she will feel rather 
 dissatisfied with the results of her first investigation ; 
 she will find it almost impossible, amidst such dis- 
 tracting multiplicity of pursuits, and of characters, to 
 select any specimens on which her eye might repose 
 as it were from the scrutinizing search, and gather light 
 truly illustrative of the subject. She would fain with- 
 draw her contemplation from this scene of confusion, 
 and direct them again into their former channel, 
 to dwell with unmiugied delight on that being so 
 dear to her affections. 
 
 But the dearer your child is to you, fond mother ! 
 the more urgently would I insist on your examining 
 that life into which he will one day be thrown. Do 
 you find it replete with danger ? You must encompass 
 him with a shield that shall preserve his innocence. 
 Do you find it a maze of error ? You. must show him 
 that magic clue which shall lead to the fountain of 
 truth. Do you find it lifeless, and dead, under all its 
 busy superficies ? You must try to nourish in him that 
 spirit of activity which shall keep his powers alive, and 
 impel him forwards to improve, though all around 
 him should be lost in the habitual mechanism of a 
 stationary idleness. Again, therefoie, enquire what may 
 be the experience life can afford you ? Look for a 
 moment at those who have distinouished themselves 
 from the rest of their species. Surely you would not 
 wi:.h your child to be one of the many, of whom nothing 
 can be said, but that the)' lived and died, passing through 
 life ingloriously, and uncharacterized by any quality, or
 
 14 
 
 any action than can dignify humanity. Your child 
 can be in no class of society where the most honourable 
 distinction is not attainable. The fertile spreading tree, 
 however low may be the valley it grows in, is not the 
 less welcome to the way-worn traveller, who hails its 
 luscious fruits and grateful shades. 
 
 Even among the inferior stations, you will find many 
 who have really distinguished themselves by the industry 
 and energy displayed in their employment, however 
 little may be its intrinsic dignity; but their skill and 
 perseverance have gained, and secured to them, the 
 attention, and perhaps respect, of their neighbours 
 and superiors. 
 
 Others will arrest your observation, placed in the 
 more exalted ranks of society, whose amazing grasp of 
 intelligence will appear to you as almost supernatural. 
 You may occasionally remark it compassing extraor- 
 dinary ends, with ordinary and even limited means; 
 directing with facility the helm of national power, or 
 over-ruling the decisions 'of national wisdom, or stem- 
 ming the currents of national policy ; and in these, or 
 any other varieties of its character and action, you 
 will have to admire the triumphs of mind. 
 
 These prominent actors on the stage of life are to a 
 great number, whose destiny seems to be in their power, 
 objects of terror: but you will scarcely find any one 
 disposed to withhold the tribute of admiration due to 
 their lofty endowment?. As their persons are regarded 
 with respect, or possibijr with fear, by others of their 
 kind, so you will meet with many an individual who 
 inspires his observers and acquaintance with no other
 
 15 
 
 sentiment than love: his natural goodness of disposition, 
 and his unvarying kindness of intention, will never fail 
 of producing this appropriate effect : beingevery man's 
 well-wisher, he has gained the secret of access to every 
 man's affections. 
 
 Your own acquaintance will % furnish you with the 
 original of at least one individual in each of these 
 three classes. 
 
 Are they all happy, or any one superlatively so ?
 
 LETTER V 
 
 October 24, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I DO not mean to anticipate the answer of the 
 mother. But it is highly probable, that her enquiries 
 will terminate in the sad conviction, that none of the 
 individuals in question seem to be invested with that 
 happiness, true, essential, and undisturbed, which she 
 so ardently aspires after as the future portion of her 
 child. 
 
 Here, then, she will sigh over the imperfections of 
 human nature, the inconsistencies of human pursuits. 
 Is it possible y she will exclaim, that with all this fertility 
 of genius, all this comprehension of mind, all these, 
 charities of heart, happiness should still be unattained? 
 
 Now this is precisely the point to which I would 
 bring her. 
 
 " How is it possible ?" is a phrase so common with 
 us, that we quite forget its original meaning. It is a 
 question, but we never fail to evade its legitimate 
 answer. 'It is a question to ourselves, but we consci- 
 ously shrink back from the task of meeting it with a 
 fair and open reply. Let it be otherwise in the present 
 instance. Let the mother go on to examine the nature 
 of this possibility, and she will soon be sensible of her 
 approximation to the truth she is in search of> She
 
 17 
 
 must be aware, that mere executive talent, however 
 splendid; mere mental capacity, however vast; mere 
 good nature, however diffusive, are still endowments 
 infinitely inferior to the conditions of human happiness. 
 And here I am about to allude to a fundamental error 
 which prevails in education, as well as in our judgment 
 of men and things. 
 
 What, I would ask, can be the true, intrinsic use of 
 the utmost possible exertions, unless regulated by 
 accuracy of ideas, elevated and universal perceptions, 
 and, above all, under the control of, and founded on 
 the noblest sentiments of the heart, a firm and steady 
 will ? And again, I ask, what can be the real use and 
 merit of schemes, however deep or ingenious, if the 
 energy of exertion be not equal to the boldness and 
 skill of the conception, or even if the two powers are 
 combined, but are not working for an end worthy of 
 themselves, and propitious to humanity ? It is obvious 
 then, that a mere cultivation of the talents of our 
 animal and intellectual nature will be found absolutely 
 inefficient as a substitute for the heart. 
 
 This, then, will appear to be the true basis of human 
 happiness. But 1 must even here warn you against a 
 possible mistake, by pointing out the features of a 
 character likely to mislead you, and which is so often 
 met with in our passage through life, that none of us 
 shall dispute the existence of an original. I refer to 
 one, whose mind is pregnant with good intentions, his 
 heart overflowing with amiable dispositions, and his 
 zeal ever ready to patronize and promote any worthy 
 enterprize, that has for its object the benefit of society. 
 I need not name to you all the admirable points of surh 
 D
 
 18 
 
 a character; so much kindness, benevolence, and 
 warmth, cannot fail of seeming to you irresistibly 
 attractive. And yet it is a fact, but too often con- 
 firmed by experience, that all this constellation of 
 excellencies may glow and sparkle in vain ; that such a 
 temperament, however finely constituted, may yet live 
 and move to little purpose, in reference to other?, and. 
 to itself fail of securing that happiness which is 
 asserted to be the inseparable concomitant of virtue. 
 
 The reason is evident: the heart, the grand wheel in 
 the human mechanism, may have been long and actively 
 at work, but for want of being connected in due time 
 with those other powers of human nature, whose 
 co-operation is equally essential, it has failed of pro- 
 ducing that health and vitality which would otherwise 
 have pervaded the system. The faculties of man must 
 be so cultivated that no one shall predominate at the 
 expence of another, but each ]>e excited to the true 
 standard of activity ; and this standard is the spiritual 
 nature of man. 
 
 And here allow me to expatiate again on the prin- 
 cipal result of these important truths ; again to touch 
 upon them in order to the character I am addressing. 
 
 " Happy mother! thou art delighting thyself in the 
 first efforts of thy child, and they are delightful ; muse 
 upon them, pass them not by, they are the germs of. 
 future action, they are all-important tothee and to him, 
 and should furnish thee with many a long train of 
 prolific thought. 
 
 "God has given to thy child all the faculties of our 
 nature; hut the grand point remains yet undecided ! 
 How shall this heart, this head, these hands, be
 
 in 
 
 employed? to whose service shall they be dedicated? 
 A query, the answer to which involves a futurity 
 of happiness, or unhappiness, to the life so dear 
 to thee. 
 
 "God has given thy child a spiritual nature; that 
 is to say, He has implanted in him the voice of con- 
 science ; and He has done more, He has given him the 
 faculty of attending to this voice. He has given him 
 an eye, whose natural turn is heavenward ; teaching 
 thee, in this alone, the elevation of his destiny ; and 
 disclaiming for him all affinity to the inferior creatures, 
 whose downward looks speak as expressively of the 
 earth whither they are tending. 
 
 "Thy child, then, was created, not for earth, but for 
 heaven. Dost thou know the way that leads thither? 
 Thy child would never find it, nor would any other mortal 
 be able to lead the way, if divine mercy did not reveal 
 it to him. But it is not enough to know this way ; 
 thy child must learn to walk in it. 
 
 " It is recorded, thou knowest, that God opened the 
 heavens to one of the patriarchs of old, and showed 
 him a ladder leading to their azure heights ! Well, 
 this ladder is let down to every descendant of Adam ; 
 it is tendered to thy child. But he must be taught to 
 climb it. And let him take heed not to attempt it, 
 nor think to scale it, by cold calculations of the head, 
 nor be compelled to adventure it by the mere impulse 
 of the heart: but let all these powers combine, 
 and the noble enterprize will be crowned with 
 success. 
 
 " All these powers are already bestowed on him : 
 
 D 2
 
 20 
 
 but thine is the province to assist in calling them 
 forth. Let the ladder leading to heaven be constantly 
 before thine eyes, even the ladder of JFailh, on which 
 thou mayest behold ascending and descending the 
 angels of Hope and Love."
 
 21 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 OCTOBER 31, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 HAD I been more anxious, on some former occa- 
 sions, to suit my words to the taste of the one, and 
 to the theories of others, I might perhaps have secured 
 the approbation of those who are at present inclined 
 to put upon my principles a less favourable construc- 
 tion, or to reject them altogether. But I have not 
 been taught to refer to systems for the proof of what 
 experience suggested, or practice confirmed to me. If it 
 has been my lot, as I humbly hope that it was, to 
 light upon truths little noticed before, and principles 
 which, though almost generally acknowledged, were 
 yet seldom practised, I confess that I was little 
 qualified for that task by the precision of my philo- 
 sophical notions, but supported rather by a rich 
 stock of experience, and guided by the impulse of 
 my heart If, therefore, I am frequently iccurring 
 to an appeal to the feelings of a mother, you will 
 easily conceive that, while I would court the exa- 
 mination of my principles, by those who are qualified 
 for it by intellectual superiority, I would yet look 
 for sympathy chiefly to those whose exertions are 
 kindred to mine, being sprung from the same feelings, 
 and directed to the same end.
 
 22 
 
 Let me then proceed to lay before you my views, 
 not indeed with the elaborate accuracy that might 
 satisfy the criticism of a stranger, but with the 
 warmth that may speak to the heart of a friend. 
 
 I would, in the first place, direct your attention 
 to the existence, and the early manifestation, of a 
 spiritual principle, even in the infant mind. 1 would 
 put it in the .strongest light, that there is in the child 
 an active power of faith and love; the two principles 
 by which, under the divine guidance, our nature is 
 made to participate of the highest blessings that 
 are in store for us. And this power is not, as other 
 faculties are, in a dormant state, in the infant mind. 
 While all other faculties, whether mental or physical, 
 present the image of utter helplessness, of a weakness, 
 which, in its first attempts at exertion, only leads 
 to pain and disappointment, that same power of faith 
 and love displays an energy, an intensity, which is 
 never surpassed by its most successful efforts, when in 
 full growth. 
 
 I am fully aware, that what T have called, just now, 
 a principle of faith and love in the infant, is frequently, 
 and indeed generally, degraded by the name of a 
 merely animal or instinctive feeling. But I confess, 
 that I look upon the instinctive agency of the infant, 
 on its first stage of existence, as the wonderful dispen- 
 sation of a benign and all-wise Providence. In this 
 wise, and, I repeat it, wonderful dispensation, we may 
 indeed admire, with feelings of veneration, the free 
 gift of the Creator to man a gift which, however 
 man may pervert it, is yet, in its primitive agency, 
 an incalculable blessing. And if the feeling 1 am
 
 2:$ 
 
 alluding to, be called animal, I confess, that such 
 ;i|>|)t ars to have been the intention of the Creator, that 
 however low the first state of -human existence might 
 rank, it might yet adumbrate, in its primitive forms, 
 the successive development of its spiritual nature. 
 
 This principle, however, for the existence of which I 
 contend, is by no means absolutely ripened and purified 
 in the child. If it were to remain among the inferior 
 faculties it would fail of acting as a constant pre- 
 servative of faith and love. It must, therefore, derive 
 its nourishment and increase from nature: it must be 
 cherished by the sacred power of innocence and truth. 
 This must constitute the atmosphere in which the 
 child is living. 
 
 This daily nourishment of the child's love and faith, 
 will, in time, unfold all the germs of the purest virtues. 
 The infant is obedient, active, patient, 1 should Almost 
 have said, wise and pious, before it has been taught to 
 understand the nature or merit of these virtues. The 
 highest and strongest power of spiritual elevation, of 
 which the soul of man is capable under the influence 
 of the divine doctrine of Christ, is communicated to 
 the child in tender infancy, by a kind of revelation. It 
 has a foretaste of the most sublime virtues, the power 
 of which it is not yet able to conceive. 
 
 Thus the true dignity of Christianity may be said to be 
 implanted in the child before it has an idea of the full 
 growth of its yet tender germs in its breast. The sacred 
 feeling of gratitude is active in the child in the moment 
 of gratification, when it feels its animal life appeased, 
 and its animal wants supplied. The sacred power of 
 sympathy, which is superior to the fear of danger and
 
 24 
 
 death, is active in the child : it would die on the arms 
 of the mother, to relieve her from imminent pain, the 
 feeling of which is strongly marked on her features, 
 it would die for her, before it could conceive what is 
 sympathy, or death. In the child, there is even an 
 antepastof the feeling of tranquillity and delight, which 
 is the reward of a resignation of our own desires, of a 
 subordination of all our hopes and wishes, under the 
 supreme and ruling principles of love and faith. 
 
 This act of resignation, trifling as may be its immediate 
 object, is the first step towards the conscious and 
 principled exercise of self-denial. 
 
 On the arms of the mother, the infant is actuated, and 
 as it were inspired by this principle, which may become 
 its second nature, while the mind is yet far from a 
 consciousness of that power, which, in its further 
 development, may produce the most glorious efforts of 
 self-denial.
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 NOTIMBER 8, 18 IS. 
 
 Mv DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I HAVE in my last letter stated it as my firm 
 conviction, that there is in the infant a principle 
 which may, under the divine guidance, enable him 
 not only to stand distinguished among his fellow-men, 
 but also to fulfil the highest command of his Maker, 
 to walk in the light of faith, and to have his heart 
 overflowing with that love which " beareth all things, 
 believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all 
 things," the love which *' never faileth." 
 
 I have called this principle, even as it is manifested 
 in the earliest stage of human life, a principle of love 
 and fai 1 1 1 . I am aware that these terms will meet with 
 contradiction by some, and perhaps with derision by 
 others. 1 should feel truly obliged to any one who 
 would give me two other terms more appropriate, 
 more expressive of the idea that I have formed on the 
 subject, after the closest and most earnest observation 
 of many years. In the mean time, may I venture at 
 least to hope, that no one will deny the feet, merely on 
 account of the insufficiency of the terms which 1 may 
 have had the misfortune to apply to the description 
 of it.
 
 20 
 
 I shall try to explain my idea in a manner which 
 will scarcely leave a doubt on the nature of the fact, 
 to which it is my wish to call the attention of all 
 persons engaged in education. They will be ready 
 to admit, from past experience, that if you treat a 
 child with kindness, there is a greater chance of suc- 
 ceeding, than if you try by any other means. 
 
 Now this is all that I would wish to have granted 
 to me ; and on this simple and undeniable fact I would 
 ground whatever there is of theory, or of principle, in 
 my views on infant development. 
 
 If you succeed, by KINDNESS, more than by any 
 other means, there must, I would say, be a something 
 in the child, that answers as it were to your call of 
 kindness. Kindness must be the most congenial to 
 his nature : kindness must excite a sympathy in his 
 heart. Whence is that something derived ? I have 
 no hesitation in saying, from the Giver of all that is 
 good. It is indeed to that same principle in man, that 
 He has always addressed his call, both by the voice of 
 conscience, and whenever he has, by his infinite 
 mercy, spoken to mankind, " at sundry times, and 
 in divers manners." And, if otherwise, how are we 
 to satisfy ourselves with regard to the meaning of the 
 Divine authority, by which it is said, that " of such 
 is the kingdom of God;" and that, " Whosoever shall 
 not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall 
 in no wise enter therein." 
 
 We shall have the more reason to think so, if we 
 consider the manner in which that power of kindness 
 acts upon even the infant mind. 
 
 If the infant were not actuated by any other impulse
 
 but the mere instinct of self-preservation ; if his 
 attachment to the mother were grounded merely 
 upon a consciousness of his helplessness, of his animal 
 wants, and the observation that she was the first to 
 relieve, to protect, to gratify them ; if thence spring 
 his smile, and all the little tokens of affection so dear 
 to the mother's heart; if the infant be really that- 
 selfish, calculating creature, turning to the gratification 
 of his own desires the affection of others ; then indeed 
 would I cease for ever to speak of the stamina of love 
 in his heart, or of the antepast, however distant, of 
 faith. Then would I cease for ever to address the 
 mother as the principal agent in the cause of huma- 
 nity. Such a cause then could no longer exist. Then 
 I would no longer exhort her to weigh her duty, and 
 to consider the means by which to accomplish it- 
 Any means would do for what would then be her 
 province, to nurture up in her infant that same cold 
 and unnatural selfishness, which might be lurking in 
 her own bosom, under the deceitful mask of maternal 
 love. 
 
 But let the mother tell what her heart says to such 
 a doctrine. Let her tell, if she does not believe that 
 God himself has implanted in her that feeling of 
 maternal love. Let her tell, if she does not feel her- 
 self nearest to God in those moments in, which her 
 love is most intense and active"; and if it is not this 
 feeling, which alone enables her to be unremitting in 
 her duties, and to undergo self-denials which have no 
 name, which we may attempt to describe, but which 
 none but a mother can feel, and none but a mother 
 can undergo. Let her tell, whether she is not firmly 
 
 E2
 
 28 
 
 convinced, by that same feeling, that there is, in the 
 heart of her infant, a gratitude, and a confidence, and 
 an attachment, which is better than selfish, which is 
 implanted, as is her own love, by her Heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 I know the cold and heartless doctrine, which does 
 not deny the existence of such a feeling, but which 
 accounts for it by calling it a salutary deception, 
 intended to induce the mother to be careful in the 
 fulfilment of her duty. Have I called this doctrine 
 cold and heartless? Then let me add, that I do not 
 wish to cast an imputation on those who may hold it, 
 from whatever motives it may be : but I cannot bring 
 myself to sympathise with them. 
 
 Let others advocate the theory, that evil may' be 
 done that good may come of it. Let man try to 
 palliate by this theory his own weakness : but let him 
 not presume to transfer that principle to the works 
 of Him who is all wisdom, all power, and all love. 
 
 No i I will never believe that God, to endear to her, 
 by a pleasing delusion, her difficult and often painful 
 duty, I will never be4ieve, that the Father of Truth 
 has implanted a lying spirit in the heart of the mother.
 
 29 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 15, 1818. 
 
 MT DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I WOULD call upon the mother to be thankful to 
 God, that He has so much facilitated her task, by 
 implanting in her infant's heart those germs, which, 
 under His guidance, and with His blessing, it will be 
 her duty to develope, to protect, and to strengthen, 
 until they may be matured into real fruits of faith 
 and love. 
 
 For it will be her task, in a world of corruption, to 
 guard infant innocence, and to mature it into principle. 
 In a world of inconstancy, of distrust, of unbelief, it 
 will be incumbent on her to be assiduous, that the 
 serene, the amiable security of that innocence, with 
 which it now reposes in her arms, may one day grow 
 into unshaken confidence in all that is good here 
 below, and in all that is sacred above. And in a 
 world of selfishness, hers will be the care to direct 
 and expand the instinctive attachment of her infant 
 into the spring of active benevolence, which in a good 
 cause will shrink from no self-denials, and think no 
 sacrifice too great 
 
 How could she ever hope to succeed in this, the 
 great end of education, if the Cieator had not 
 instructed the child with those faculties which will
 
 30 
 
 admit of judicious direction and development? The 
 requisite for education does not only consist in the 
 qualification of those who undertake the task ; it 
 consists in the qualification of the child also, in whose 
 nature that must be found, which proclaims louder 
 than any thing else the great end of Infinite Wisdom 
 in the creation of man. First of all, therefore, let the 
 mother rejoice, that whatever may be the weakness of 
 human nature, however great may be the temptations, 
 yet there is in her child a something, the origin of 
 which, as a gift of God, dates prior to temptation, or 
 to corruption. Let her rejoice, that in her child there 
 is that, which 
 
 " nor gems, nor stores of gold, 
 
 Nor purple state, nor culture, can bestow : 
 But GOD alone ! when first His active hand 
 Imprints the secret bias of the soul." 
 
 But will this doctrine be equally acceptable to all 
 as it is to myself, and as I trust that it will be to 
 you? 
 
 I have heard it said, my dear friend, that there are 
 many in my own country, and in yours, who will reject 
 it altogether, because they will say, that it is not 
 orthodox. 
 
 Now I would ask, who the men are, who think 
 they are privileged to say, that their views alone are 
 orthodox ? that their doctrine alone, to the exclusion 
 of all others, is the right one ? I could wish them to 
 come forward, and tell us what are their credentials ; 
 credentials, not indeed signed by the hand. of men,, 
 however wise, for the wisest are liable to error ;
 
 31 
 
 however powerful, for the most powerful may l>e 
 tempted into pride; but testimonials that will fully 
 bear them out in their assumed character as the 
 exclusive owners, as the sole interpreters of His 
 truth, who wishes all His children " to take the water 
 of life freely ;" and not " hew out cisterns that have no 
 water," nor to be ." tossed to and fro, and carried 
 about with every wind of doctrine." If they have 
 any such credentials, it is fit that we should know 
 them, and bow to their authority. If not, it is fit, at 
 least, that they should not pretend at what does not 
 belong to them, any more than it does to us, exclusive 
 authority, and that they should, in their turn, grant 
 to us, what nobody will think of withholding from 
 them the right of freedom of conscience and private 
 judgment. 
 
 I do indeed hope, that the time is at length come, 
 when it will no longer be asked, whether a theory 
 does or does not agree with the interest of one class of 
 men, or with the preconceived opinions of another ; 
 but, whether it rests on observation, on experience, 
 on a right use of reason, and an unbiassed view of 
 revelation ; disdaining the comments of men, and 
 acknowledging, as its only basis, the word of God. 
 
 Thus I would meet one class of objections. But 
 I anticipate another class of doubts, of a far different 
 nature, not arising from B disposition in those who 
 hold them, to over-rate their own judgment, and con- 
 sequently to slight that of others ; but rather from the 
 consideration of the weakness of all human reasoning, 
 and from an unwillingness to part with views, which 
 have been adopted in early youth, and conscientiously
 
 preserved as the sacred legacy perhaps of those who 
 are no more ; views which have grown upon their 
 esteem, and which are now connected with the best 
 interest of their heart, because they have seen those 
 who held them, set an example which no event shall 
 ever obliterate from their memory, and which no 
 difficulty shall ever discourage them from imitating. 
 
 I can easily fancy, that upon similar grounds a 
 mother might be inclined not so much to dispute the 
 correctness of the theory, but rather to question the 
 right of giving way to it in opposition to what she has 
 been in the habit of revering as uncontroverted truth. 
 " Shall she abandon principles held by those who 
 watched with anxiety the first dawn of her own mind, 
 when an infant, and who were unremitting in their 
 exertions to form it, and to direct it to truth? Shall 
 she give up her mind to the examination of theories, 
 and those perhaps the theories of a stranger, rather 
 than follow the wishes of her friends ? Is it so necessaiy 
 to inquire into the existence of facts, instead of being 
 guided by the practice of those whom experience has 
 taught her to respect, and whom her heart prompts her 
 to love ? Should it be so difficult to succeed, should 
 not maternal love make up for a deficiency of know- 
 ledge ? And, if so, God forbid, that her principles of 
 education should in any way be connected with 
 views, which she has been taught to consider as 
 erroneous, perhaps as dangerous, and altogether 
 opposite to divine truth ?'* 
 
 To such doubts, and thus brought forward, I should 
 answer: " Mother ! I congratulate you on your 
 doubts, although they tend to alienate you from view*
 
 3d 
 
 which 1 hold, and which thousands have held before 
 me. But your doubts betray that feeling, to which of 
 all others I should wish to see the heart of every 
 mother alive. Do not then turn away, on your 
 arduous path, from the proffered hand of one, who, 
 though he participates not in your reasoning, yet 
 honours your feelings, and would fain assist you, as far 
 as in him lies, in your endeavours. It is probable that 
 I may never know you. My days may be numbered, 
 my glass may be run, long before you may chance to 
 hear, that in a far distant land, in a valley between his 
 native Alps, there lived, and lived to old age, a man, 
 who knew not a cause of higher interest, or of greater 
 importance, than that in which you are now engaged ; 
 whose life has been spent in endeavours, weak perhaps, 
 but in which was concentrated all his strength, to assist 
 in their task the mothers, and those who may act in 
 their place, and those on whom may devolve the duty 
 of guiding the mind at a more advanced period of 
 youth; a man, who wishes that others may take up 
 what he has commenced, and succeed where he may 
 have failed ; who trusts that his friends will speak, 
 where his voice could not have gained a hearing ; and 
 act, where his own efforts would have passed unnoticed ; 
 a man, who firmly believes, that there is an invisible 
 tie to unite all those whose hearts have embraced the 
 same sacred cause, and who would hail with delight 
 their appearance, to whatever nation they may belong, 
 to whatever opinions they may be addicted ; a man, 
 who, in his dreams, (and, if dreams they were, more 
 pleasing dreams there cannot exist) has thought of 
 such as you, whose heart is warm, whose piety is
 
 34 
 
 genuine, but who differ from him, and perhaps widely, 
 in opinion. 
 
 " And on account of that difference, should there be 
 no communion between us ? 
 
 " Do not think that I have a wish to make you a 
 convert to my opinions. No, never swerve for one 
 moment from the principles which you now follow, 
 from motives that reasoning alone may suggest, unless 
 your HEART concur in it. Let this be the test by 
 which you examine the notions that you may hear 
 from others; and always act up to the best of your 
 knowledge, as your conscience directs you. 
 
 "Let this be the test hy which you examine the ideas 
 now before you. Adopt of them as much as your 
 heart will warrant you. As to the rest of them, you 
 may, perhaps, be inclined to believe, that they have 
 proceeded from conviction as sincere, and from inten- 
 tions no less benevolent. 
 
 *' But you may consider them erroneous, some of 
 them, perhaps, even mischievous. You may even 
 lament, that those should have held them, whom you 
 might wish to meet on a ground where you now must 
 secede from them. 
 
 " I, for my own part, rejoice, that my creed does 
 not countenance any such apprehension in me with 
 regard to you. For it is my hope, in which 1 rejoice, 
 that those who have been earnest in their wish, and 
 stedfast in their attempts to do good, not indeed 
 relying upon any strength or merit of their own, but 
 acknowledging their own failings, and giving Cod 
 the glory of their success ; it is my hope, that they
 
 35 
 
 may, in humbleness of heart, but with the confidence 
 of faith, address themselves, in every situation of 
 their life, aud in their expectation for days to come, 
 to Divine Mercy."
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 NOVEMBER 20, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I SHALL try in this, and in some subsequent letters, to 
 describe the facts which may be considered as the 
 first manifestation of the good principle of which I 
 have spoken. I shall then proceed to point out the 
 common mistake, by which it is frequently either 
 altogether overlooked, or even perverted by injudicious 
 treatment, so that, instead' of acting as a moral pre- 
 servative, instead of being instrumental to the spiritual 
 elevation, it is rendered contributive to the corruption 
 of the best powers of human nature. 
 
 It will be unpleasant to dwell upon this topic ; it 
 wiil be necessary to allude to the source of all the 
 mental and moral misery which our flesh is heir to ; 
 it will be indispensable to convince many a fond 
 mother, that what was well meant, is not always 
 well done, and strongly to impress upon her mind the 
 fact, that by a mode of proceeding flowing from the 
 most benevolent motives, but which would not have 
 stood the test of a matured judgment, she may entail 
 on her children all that misery, against which it was 
 her only wish to protect them. 
 
 But if, in going over the ground now before us, we
 
 37 
 
 shall have frequent occasion to lament the short-sight- 
 od ness of some, and the indolence of others, we shall 
 also have occasion to rejoice, that the means by which 
 so much misery may be avoided, and by which a still 
 greater portion of happiness may be secured, are by 
 no means out of the reach of the mother. Indeed, 
 whenever I have met with a mother, who distinguished 
 herself by the care which she gave to the education of 
 her children, and by the success which she obtained, 
 I have always found, that the principles upon which 
 she acted, and the means which she employed, were not 
 the result of a long and diffccult search, but rather of a 
 resolution adopted in time, and constantly followed, to 
 do no step without pausing for a moment to reflect : 
 and I have not found, that this led to an over-anxiety 
 on her part, or to that state of continual agitation 
 which we sometimes observe preying on the heart of 
 a mother, who is always calculating the remote 
 consequences of trifles, with almost feverish appre- 
 hension. 
 
 This last mentioned state of the mind, which must 
 mar the cheerfulness of her spirits, so essential for a 
 judicious and effective education, generally ensues upon 
 a prior want of discretion, that may have led to 
 consequences which, in their turn, give rise to needless 
 apprehensions. Nothing, on the contrary, is so well 
 calculated to secure to the mind an imperturbable 
 tranquillity, as a timely exercise of judgment, and a 
 constant habit of reflection. 
 
 I know not if philosophers would think it worth 
 their while, but I feel confident that a mother would 
 not decline following us to the consideration of the
 
 state in which the infant remains for some time after 
 his birth. 
 
 This state, in the first place, strikes us as a state of 
 utter helplessness. The first impression seems to be 
 that of pain, or, at least, of a sensation of uneasiness. 
 There is not yet the slightest circumstance that might 
 remind us of any other faculties, except those of the 
 animal nature of man; and even these are on the very 
 lowest stage of development. 
 
 Still there is in this animal nature an instinct which 
 acts with greater security, and which increases in 
 strength as the functions of animal life are repeated, 
 day for day : this animal instinct has been known to 
 make the most rapid progress, and to arrive very early 
 at the highest point of strength and intensity, even 
 when little or no attention has been paid to protect the 
 infant from surrounding dangers, or to strengthen it by 
 more than ordinary nourishment and care. It is a well- 
 known fact, that among savage nations the animal 
 powers of children are capable of exertions, and are 
 developing with a rapidity which proves sufficiently 
 that this part of human nature goes altogether parallel 
 with the instinct in the rest of the animal creation. 
 
 So striking is this similarity, that we frequently find 
 every attempt to discover any trace of another faculty 
 treated with ridicule. Indeed, while we are assiduous 
 in our attention to that part of human nature in the 
 earliest stage of life, which would require but little of 
 our care, we are but too apt to overlook and to neglect 
 that which in its first appearance is certainly very 
 weak, but which is, by its very weakness, entitled to our 
 care and support, and which may well inspire us with
 
 an interest in its development, that will amply reward 
 us for our labours. 
 
 For, striking as this similarity may be, we can never 
 be justified in overlooking the distinction that exists 
 between the infant, even in the first era of life, and 
 between the animal, which apparently may have made 
 a more rapid progress, and may be far superior in the 
 qualifications which constitute a sound and comfortable 
 state of animal existence. 
 
 The animal will for ever remain on that point of 
 bodily strength and sagacity, to which its instinct has 
 conducted it so rapidly. For the -whole duration of 
 its life, its enjoyments, and exertions, and, if wo may 
 say so, its attainments, will remain stationary. It may, 
 through old age, or through unfavourable circum- 
 stances, be thrown back ; but it will never advance 
 beyond that line of physical perfection, which is 
 attendant on its full growth. A new faculty, or an 
 additional agency of the former ones, is an event unheard 
 of in the natural history of the animal creation. 
 
 // is not the same with man. 
 
 In him there is something which will not fail, in 
 due time, of making itself manifest by a series of 
 facts altogether independent of animal life. While 
 the animal is for ever actuated by that instinct to 
 which it owes, its preservation, and all its powers 
 and enjoyments, a something will assert its right in 
 man, to hold the empire over all his powers; to con- 
 troul the lower part of his nature, and to lead him to 
 those exertions which will secure for him a place in 
 the scale of moral being. 
 
 The animal is destined by the Creator to follow
 
 40 
 
 the instinct of its nature. Man is destined to follow 
 a higher principle. His animal nature must no longer 
 be permitted to rule him, as soon as his spiritual 
 nature has commenced to unfold. 
 
 It will be the object of my next letter to point out 
 to the mother the epoch at which she may expect the 
 first tokens of a spiritual nature in her infant.
 
 41 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 NOVEMBER 27, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I HAVE frequently heard it observed, that there is 
 not a more humiliating consideration than that of the 
 first condition of man, when he has entered this world, 
 a helpless stranger, equally unable to speak his wants, 
 or to think of supplying them, or to give any token 
 by which he might be recognised as a member of the 
 rational creation, 
 
 I admit, that all this must strongly remind us of the 
 weakness of our nature, that it may guard us against 
 the presumption of trusting in our own powers; and I 
 think it right to encourage any reflection which may 
 call back to our mind what we are but too apt to 
 forget. But though this consideration is by no means 
 flattering to our vanity, yet I cannot see why it should 
 be so peculiarly humiliating. 
 
 Let the case be put as strongly as observation may 
 warrant us to do. Let it be granted, that weeks must 
 pass, before the infant will give any proof of any 
 faculty superior to those of irrational animals. Let it 
 be added, that no animal is so physically helpless, so 
 destitute of power, as the infant for some time after 
 iiis birth. And thus let the commencement of human
 
 42 
 
 life occupy the lowest place even in the scale of 
 mere animal existence. 
 
 Still I confess that, in a moral point' of view, I 
 cannot find any thing humiliating in this fact. 
 
 To see a rational being brutalized that indeed 
 may be called the severest lesson to any one who 
 has a wish to vindicate the moral character of human 
 nature. But this most humiliating observation will 
 bear no comparison with the fact now before us. 
 
 Or, who is not aware of the immense difference 
 between a state of animal existence, to which the 
 manifestation of spiritual life will succeed, and between 
 moral and responsible existence, in which the germs 
 of that life have been oppressed, and blighted. In the 
 one instance, we look forward to progressive elevation ; 
 in the other, we turn away from successive degrada- 
 tion. Before the light of intelligence has appeared, 
 before the voice of conscience has spoken, neither error 
 nor corruption can exist ; but where the one has been 
 darkened, and the other is slighted, there may we 
 lament over the blindness, the selfishness of man. 
 
 Instead, therefore, of dwelling exclusively on the 
 want of an intellectual and moral principle, we ought 
 rather to watch its first appearance ; instead of reviling 
 the work of the Creator, we ought to acknowledge his 
 wisdom in opening, at whatever period it may please 
 Him, the eyes of his creatures, and unclosing to them 
 both a visible world full of miracles, and a spiritual 
 world full of blessing : instead of complaining, than 
 which nothing can be more wrong, and more unwise, 
 that He haa not created us more perfect, we ought 
 rather to examine ourselves, how far we are still from
 
 43 
 
 that point of perfection, which He has placed within 
 our reach. 
 
 1 have said thus much, because the subject affords 
 frequent scope to thoughtless and frivolous remarks, 
 which might perhaps in some measure Contribute to 
 damp the zeal and interest of mothers. But I trust 
 that a mother will always consult her own experience, 
 and her own heart, rather than the sophistry of those 
 who cannot feel with her. 
 
 Let her then consider the stranger on her breast as 
 a being destined for a better existence than the one 
 in which he now unconsciously looks up to her for that 
 support which Providence has placed it in her means 
 to give. Let her not only follow that instinctive 
 affection, which could not allow her to be insensible 
 to the wants of her infant; let her look forward to 
 the time in which her infant shall be alive to a sense 
 of duty in this, and to hope for another world : and 
 let her not forget, that while such is the destination of 
 her infant, on her devolves the task of preparing, and 
 of teaching him, the first and most difficult steps of his 
 path. 
 
 And when the first weeks of anxiety on her part, 
 and of unconsciousness on that of her infant, are 
 over; when the attention which is required, becomes 
 monotonous and wearying; then will the mother feel 
 a longing for something lo animate the scene, to enhance 
 the interest, and to entourage her to new exertions. 
 
 Nor shall she be disappointed; for the day will 
 
 come, when the infant will no longer apply to the 
 
 mother, only because her attention and her support are 
 
 to him a source of animal gratification. The day wHl 
 
 eft
 
 44 
 
 come, when his eye will catch the eye of the mother? 
 when it will read there a language, new, and yet not 
 unknown ; when that look of love will call into life the 
 first smile, to play round the lips of the infant. 
 
 With this fact, a new era begins in the infant's life. 
 With it, a new world opens to his view. He has 
 entered a new stage of existence ; he has vindicated his- 
 character as a being superior to the rest of the animal 
 creation. 
 
 The smile of joy, and the tear of sympathy, are 
 denied to the animal race. They are given to man ; they 
 constitute a tacit language, common to all, and under- 
 stood, because felt, by all. They are the earliest signs 
 of feeling, which belong exclusively to man. 
 
 They are the early witnesses, whose meaning cannot 
 be mistaken, of internal emotions. The character of 
 these emotions may change, they may be momentary 
 or permanent, and their objects may extend to endless 
 variety ; but the signs which Nature has appointed for 
 them, remain the same ; and thus they will continue 
 tbrough life the never-failing indexes of feeling, 
 whether it be clouded in silent grief, or wrapped in 
 tranquil serenity ; whether it make the bosom throb 
 with agony, or heave with delight.
 
 45 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 DECEMBER 5, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I HAVE tried, in my last letter, tojustify, on philo- 
 sophical grounds, the importance which every mother 
 is inclined to attach to the epoch, when the eye of her 
 infant for the first time meets her own ; when the 
 expression of love in her own countenance for the first 
 time calls into play a similar expression in the features 
 of the infant. 
 
 This fact, which a mother will always hail with a 
 delight inconceiveable to those who cannot share in 
 her feelings, may lead her to a train of considerations, 
 which she will never repent of having duly weighed, 
 and in which I shall now attempt to follow her. 
 
 The first great truth, which cannot but strike her 
 at the very outset, is this : it was by kindness, by a 
 manifestation of maternal love, that she has produced 
 the first visible impression on the eye and the features 
 of her infant. She will be fully justified by experience, 
 if she recognises in this impression the first influence 
 of her individual conduct on the mind and the heart 
 of the infant.
 
 46 
 
 Let her never lose sight of this 'fact. * Providence, 
 by ordering that it should be thus in the course of 
 nature, has pointed out to her a leading truth, if she 
 will but advert to it, which she may lay down as a 
 never-failing principle of education. In the formation 
 of character, as well as in the mode of giving instruction, 
 kindness ought to'be the first and ruling principle: 
 it certainly is the most powerful. Fear may do much, 
 and other motives may be employed with apparent 
 success ; but to interest the mind, and to form the 
 heart, nothing is so permanently influential as 
 affection : it is the easiest way to attain the highest 
 ends. 
 
 I have called the fact, of which I am now speaking, 
 a manifestation of the spiritual nature in man. As 
 such, it will invite the mother to take a new view of 
 her relation to the child. 
 
 Her child is, like herself, a being endowed with 
 spiritual faculties with faculties superior to, and in 
 a great measure independent of, animal life. The less 
 they are developed in their present state, the greater 
 is the attention which they require. 
 
 Providence has instructed her with the means of 
 supplying the animal wants of the child. We have 
 seen, that the child also is instructed with an animal 
 -instinct, which facilitates the task. But the eye of the 
 child, when it meets that of the mother that eye, does 
 not seek for the mere gratification of a present want, 
 or for relief from a present sensation of uneasiness : 
 it seeks for something more ; it speaks of the first 
 want of spiritual nature ; it seeks for sympathy.
 
 The animal instinct is a principle which knows no 
 higher object than self. Self-preservation is the first 
 point which it tries to secure; and in its progressive 
 desire of enjoyment, .otf is still the centre of its 
 agency. 
 
 It is not the same with the mind, or with the 
 affections of the heart The fact which speaks most 
 unquestionably for the spiritual nature of man, is the 
 sacrifice of personal comfort or enjoyment, for the 
 happiness of others ; the subordination of individual 
 desire, to higher purposes. 
 
 A moral philosopher has said, that whenever the 
 mind reflects to the future or the invisible, in prefer- 
 ence to the present and to visible objects, then the 
 spirit asserts its right 
 
 If we connect this observation with the preceding 
 remarks, we may deduce from them a few plain and 
 practical rules, by which the mother may be enabled, 
 without any pretensions to deep and laborious research, 
 to do much that will prove truly beneficial to the 
 highest interests of her infant, and to the better part 
 of its nature. 
 
 Any measure that we would recommend her at so 
 early a period, must of course be practicable without 
 any thing like instruction : it must not induce her to 
 go out of the way which Providence has assigned to 
 her : it must not be of a nature that could be modified, 
 or rendered more difficult, by her situation in life, 
 whatever it may be: it must, in. fact, be limited to 
 the manner, and the spirit, in which that is done, 
 which every mother has both the wish and the faculty 
 of doing for her infant
 
 48 
 
 LETTBR XII. 
 
 DECEMBER 8, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 WE have seen, that the animal instinct is always 
 intent on instantaneous gratification, without ever 
 adverting to the comfort or interest of others. 
 
 As long as no other faculty is awake, this instinct, 
 and its exclusive dominion over the child, cannot 
 properly be considered as faulty ; there is not yet any 
 consciousness in it : if it be selfish in appearance, it is 
 not wilfully so ; and the Creator himself seems to 
 have ordained, that it should be so strong, and, indeed, 
 exclusively prevailing, while consciousness and other 
 faculties could not yet contribute to secure even the 
 first condition of animal life self-preservation. 
 
 But if, after the first indication of an higher prin- 
 ciple, this instinct be still allowed to act. unchecked 
 and uncontrouled as before, then it will commence to 
 be at war with conscience, and every step in which it 
 is indulged, will carry the child farther in selfishness* 
 at the expence of his better and more amiable 
 nature. 
 
 I wish this to be clearly understood ; and I shall 
 perhaps better succeed in explaining the rules which 
 I conceive to flow from it for the use of the mother,
 
 40 
 
 than in dwelling longer on the abstract position. In 
 the first place, let the mother adhere stedfastly to the 
 good old rule, to be regular in her attention to the 
 infant; to pursue as much as possible the same course; 
 never to neglect the wants of her child when they are 
 teal, and never to indulge them when they are 
 imaginary, or because they are expressed with impor- 
 tunity. The earlier and the more constant her 
 adherence to this practice, the greater and the more 
 lasting will be the real benefit obtained for her child.* 
 
 The expediency, and the advantages of such a plan 
 will soon be peiceived, if it is constantly practised. 
 The fiist advantage will be on the part of the mother. 
 She will be subject to fewer interruptions ; she will 
 be less tempted to give way to ill humour ; though 
 her patience may be tried, yet her temper will not be 
 ruffled : she will, upon all occasions, derive real satis- 
 faction from her intercourse with her child ; and her 
 duties will not more often remind her, than her 
 enjoyments, that she is a mother. 
 
 But the advantage will be still greater on the parl 
 of the child. 
 
 ' li seems plain to me, that the principle of all virtue anil 
 excellence, lies in a power of denying ourselves the satisfaction of our 
 own desire*, where reason does not authorise them. This power in to 
 be got and improred by custom, made eay and familiar by an EARLY 
 PRACTICE. If, therefore, I might be heard, 1 would advise, that 
 contrary to the ordinary way, children should be used to submit their 
 desires, and go without their longings, even FROM THEIR VERY 
 
 CRADLES If the world commonly does otherwise, I cannot help 
 
 that. I am Mying what I think should be done, which, if it were 
 already in fashion, I bhould not need (o trouble the world with a 
 discourse on lhi subject." Locke im Kitucation, 28, p. 42. 
 II
 
 50 
 
 r Every mother will be able to speak from experience, 
 either to the benefit which her children derived from 
 such a treatment, or to the unfavourable consequences 
 of a contrary proceeding. In the first instance, their 
 wants will have been few, and easily satisfied ; and 
 there is not a more infallible criterion of perfect good 
 health. But if, on the contrary, that rule has been 
 neglected ; if, from a wish to avoid any thing like 
 severity, a mother has been tempted to give way to 
 unlimited indulgence ; it will but too soon appear, that 
 her treatment, however well-meant, has been inju- 
 'dicious. It will be a source of constant uneasiness to 
 her, without giving satisfaction to her child; she will 
 have sacrificed her own rest, without securing the 
 happiness of her child. 
 
 Let the mothers tell, who have been unfortunate 
 enough to fall into this mistake, whether they have 
 not had frequent occasion to repent of their ill-timed 
 indulgence, unless they had the still greater misfortune 
 of substituting in its place the other extreme a habit 
 of indolence and cold neglect. And let the children 
 tell, who were brought up in early youth under an 
 excess of indulgence, whether they have not been 
 suffering under the consequences ; whether hurrying 
 on from excitement to excitement, they have ever felt 
 that health and tranquillity, that evenness of spirits, 
 which is the first requisite to rational enjoyment and 
 to lasting happiness. 
 
 Let them tell, whether such a system is apt to give 
 a relish for the innocent sports, for the never-to-be- 
 forgotten feats of boyhood; whether it imparts energy 
 to withstand the temptation, or to share in the noble
 
 51 
 
 enthusiasm of youth ; whether it ensures firmness and 
 success to the exertions of manhood. 
 
 We are not all born to be philosophers ; but we 
 aspire all to a sound state both of mind and body, and 
 of this the leading feature is to desire little, and t* 
 He satisfied icith even less.
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 DECEMBER 12, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 THE greatest benefit that results from a treatment of 
 the child, such as the good old rule enjoins, is of a moral 
 nature. 
 
 When I speak of moral benefit, or of moral deteri- 
 oration, 1 do not lose sight of the tender age to which 
 I would ascribe it. I am not now speaking of a child 
 in whom reason has in some degree been developed, 
 and to whom you may attempt, with some hope of 
 success, to explain the ideas of right or wrong, on 
 which our private duties, and the fabric of our social 
 system, are founded. 
 
 No ; I am speaking of that period of infancy, at 
 which many, and perhaps most philosophers, would 
 contend, that a moral faculty is either totally wanting, 
 or at least dormant. 
 
 If, therefore, what I have to say on the subject, shall 
 appear altogether visionary, I have only to reply, that
 
 53 
 
 I am ready to give it up, whenever 1 shall stand 
 convicted of its nullity by EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Till then, I mean to hold, that the better nature of 
 the infant must be encouraged, as early as possible, to 
 struggle against the over-growing power of the animal 
 instinct, which I consider as the basis of the lower 
 nature of man. 
 
 The agency of this animal instinct will become 
 more manifest with every subsequent day of the 
 infant's life. This instinct, now no more content with 
 its first efforts, which were necessary to aelf-preserva- 
 tion, is rapidly encreasing in strength. The eagerness 
 of this craving of an infant forms a strong contrast 
 with the weakness of its physical powers. It would 
 grasp every object which it perceives ; there is nothing 
 that strikes its curiosity, but that at the same time 
 excites its desires; and the inconceivable obstinacy of 
 this craving increases in the same measure as the object 
 is placed out of its reach. 
 
 Whatever there is ungainly and unamiable in a 
 little child, will be found, in some way or other, con- 
 nected with the agency of this animal instinct. For 
 even the impatience of the infant, while under the 
 influence of circumstances which may cause physical 
 pain, is no more than a reaction of that instinct. 
 
 If we consider the state of the infant, with its desires 
 and its impatience, we shall see that it furnishes 
 a striking parallel to the image of man under the 
 influence of his passions. 
 
 It is customary to say, that passion should be over- 
 come by principle, and that our desires should be 
 regulated by reason. But at a titne when we cannot
 
 54 
 
 yet appeal to either, Providence has supplied a still 
 more powerful agent in their stead, maternal love. 
 
 The only influence to which the heart is accessible 
 long before the understanding could have adopted or 
 rejected it as a motive, is affection. And it is a fact, that 
 no person can be so well qualified at an early period to 
 gain the affection of a child, as the mother. 
 
 If, therefore, I find it asserted by an'eminent writer, 
 that, in order to settle your authority over your 
 children, "Fear and awe ought to give you the first 
 power over their minds, and love and friendship in 
 riper years to hold it ;" I can only imagine, that a 
 mistake has led that writer into a -statement which is 
 openly at war with the enlightened sentiments expressed 
 in so many other pages of his valuable work. 
 
 For even supposing for a moment, that the course 
 which appears to be recommended in the above passage 
 were found expedient and beneficial, as I am con- 
 vinced that it will not be, still I cannot see how it should 
 even be practicable at the time that I am speaking of. 
 
 " Fear," implies a knowledge of the consequences 
 of an action or an event. It implies a consciousness 
 of causality ; and causality, in its turn, pre-supposes a 
 faculty of observing, comparing, and combining a 
 variety of facts, and of deducing from them a con- 
 clusion. 
 
 Surely the ingenious writer from whom I have 
 quoted, could not have given credit to the infant for a 
 course of reasoning so complicated, so foreign to the 
 state of its mental faculties. 
 
 "Fear," then, we shall be obliged to dismiss at once. 
 Even if it were not, as a motive of action, unworthy of
 
 56 
 
 n human being, it would be inapplicable at the first, 
 and certainly not the least important period of litr. 
 
 By " awe" may be understood, either an indistinct 
 and vague feeling, which casts a veil over the mind, 
 aiyl while it works upon the imagination, and the 
 nervous system, has nothing to do with reasoning, and 
 is not fit to direct the faculties to a certain line of 
 action ; or else, " awe" may be said to originate in 
 a conviction of the moral superiority of another being, 
 that pervades the mind, and prompts the heart to look 
 with veneration on subjects which the intellect is 
 unable to scan, and to follow precepts which have 
 received their sanction from Infinite Wisdom. 
 
 That awe, in the first-mentioned sense, has some 
 affinity with the first sensations of an infant, 1 admit. 
 But every thing of that sort, that may be said to belong 
 to infancy, originates in a feeling of helplessness, or of 
 occasional pain. It may, then, be said to be a mere 
 physical phenomenon : and as such, I conceive that it 
 would be little qualified for a motive to be employed 
 in moral education. But besides, it could not serve as 
 a motive, because, from its nature, it is a mere transient 
 sensation, and cannot, of course, lead to a constant line 
 of conduct, or contribute to form a moral habit. 
 
 Awe, in the other ser.se, again seems to pre-suppose 
 more than one idea, to which the infant is yet, and must 
 for some time contiuue to be, a stranger. Moral worth 
 tan only be appreciated, when there is a consciousness 
 of moral energy. And if divested from its character 
 as a moral feeling, it will be dissolved into fear. But, 
 iu the better sense, the feeling of awe, which is essential
 
 56 
 
 in the formation of religious ideas, and in the commu- 
 nication of religious impressions, ought to be reserved 
 for that period, when it will be first excited by a 
 consideration of that Being, to whom, with the 
 exclusion of all finite beings, that feeling may be saitl 
 to be due in a pre-eminent degree,
 
 57 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 DECEMBER 17, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 FROM the reasons stated in my last letter, I think 
 it right to assume, that maternal love is the most 
 powerful agent, and that affection is the primitive 
 motive in early education. 
 
 In the first exercise of her authority, the mother will 
 therefore do well to be cautious, that every step may 
 be justified by her conscience, and by experience; she 
 will do well to think of her responsibility, and of the 
 important consequences of her measures for the future 
 welfare of her child ; she will find, that the only 
 correct view of the nature of her own authority is, to 
 look upon it as a duty rather than as a prerogative, 
 and never to consider it as absolute. 
 
 If the infant remains quiet, if it is not impatient or 
 troublesome, it will do so for the take of the mother. 
 
 1 would wish every mother to pay attention to the 
 difference between a course of action, adopted in 
 compliance with the authority, and between a conduct 
 pursued for the take of another. 
 
 The first proceeds from reasoning, the second flows 
 from affection. The first may be abandoned, when 
 i
 
 58 
 
 the immediate cause may have ceased to exist ; the 
 latter will be permanent, as it did not depend upon 
 circumstances, or accidental considerations, but is 
 founded in a moral and constant principle. 
 
 In the case now before us, if the infant does not 
 disappoint the hope of the mother, it will be a proof, 
 first of affection, and secondly, of confidence. 
 
 Of affection -for the earliest, and the most innocent 
 wish to please, is that of the infant to please the mother. 
 If it be questioned, whether that wish can at all exist 
 in one so little advanced in development, 1 would 
 again, as I would do upon almost all occasions, appeal 
 to the experience of mothers. 
 
 It is a proof, also, of confidence. Whenever an infant 
 has been neglected, when the necessary attention has 
 not been paid to its wants, and when, instead of the 
 smile of kindness, it has been treated with the frown 
 of severity, it will be difficult to restore it to that quiet 
 and amiable disposition, in which it will wait for the 
 gratification of its desires without impatience, and enjoy 
 it without greediness. 
 
 If affection and confidence have once gained ground 
 in the heart, it will be the first duty of the mother to do 
 every thing in her power to encourage, to strengthen, 
 and to elevate this principle. 
 
 She must encourage it, or the yet tender emotion 
 will, subside, and the strings which are no longer 
 attuned to sympathy, will cease to vibrate, and sink 
 into silence. But affection has never yet been encou- 
 raged except by affection ; and confidence has never 
 been gained except by confidence: the tone of her 
 own mind must raise that of her child.
 
 59 
 
 For she must be intent also upon strengthening 
 lliat principle. Now there is one means only for 
 strengthening any energy^ and that means is practice. 
 The same eflbrt, constantly repeated, will become less 
 and less difficult, and every power, mental or phy- 
 sical, will go through a certain exercise with more 
 assurance and success, the more it grows familiar with 
 it by custom. There cannot, therefore, be a safer 
 course for the mother to pursue, than to be careful 
 that her proceedings may, without interruption or 
 dissonance, he calculated to excite the affection, and 
 secure the confidence, of her child. She must not give 
 way to ill humour, or tedium, not for one moment; 
 for it is difficult to say how the child may be affected 
 by the most trifling circumstance. It cannot examine 
 the motives, nor can it anticipate the consequences, 
 of an action : with little more than a general impres- 
 sion of the past, it is entirely unconscious of the 
 future; and thus the present bears upon the infant 
 mind with the full weight of pain, or soothes it with 
 the undiminished charm of pleasing emotions. If the 
 mother consider this well, she may spare her child 
 the feeling of much pain, which, though not remem- 
 bered as occasioned by special occurrences, may yet 
 leave a cloud as it were upon the mind, and gradually 
 weaken that feeling which it is her interest, as well as 
 her duty, to keep awake. 
 
 But it is not enough for her to encourage and 
 strengthen, she must also elevate that same feeling. 
 
 She must not rest satisfied with the success which 
 the benevolence of her own intentions, and perhaps 
 i 2
 
 60 
 
 the disposition and temper of her child, may have 
 facilitated : she must recollect, that education is noi 
 a uniform and mechanical process, but a work of 
 gradual and progressive improvement. Her present 
 success must not betray her into security or indolence; 
 and the difficulties which she may chance to meet 
 with must not damp her zeal, or stop her endeavours. 
 She must bear in mind the ultimate ends of education ; 
 she must always be ready to take her share in the 
 work, which, as a mother, she stands pledged to 
 forward the elevation of the moral nature of man.
 
 61 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 DRCEMBCR 24, 1318. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 . 
 
 OF all the affections of our nature, the most deserv- 
 ing of encouragement, the most kindred to the standard 
 of true humanity, are no doubt those which are not 
 confined to perishable objects ; which do not solely act 
 upon the imagination, but which are apt to expand 
 the mind, and inspire the heart with a noble zeal for 
 all that is truly excellent 
 
 This consideration is of incalculable importance 
 for the interest of moral education. It should form 
 the very basis of all that a plan of education may 
 propose, or a system comprehend. 
 
 If it is necessary to store the mind with knowledge, 
 to enlighten the intellect, and to explain correct 
 principles of morality; if it is desirable to form the 
 taste ; it is still more so, it is indeed indispensable, to 
 direct, to purify, to elevate the affections of the heart: 
 and we cannot commence at too early a period to 
 proceed upon this principle. 
 
 I have been led into these remarks by the idea 
 expressed in the concluding part of my last letter, 
 that the affection and confidence which the infant
 
 02 
 
 bears to the mother should be elevated, as well as 
 encouraged and strengthened. It will not, perhap?, 
 be superfluous to say a few words more in explanation 
 of that proposition. 
 
 If the affections of the child were to remain for 
 ever concentrated in the focus of his love of the 
 mother; if his confidence were for ever confined to 
 her ; however well she may have deserved the tribute 
 of never-failing gratitude, it is obvious, that the child 
 must, earlier or later in his career, experience the 
 most severe pain and disappointment, for which, 
 with that exclusive direction of his moral nature, he 
 could then find no remedy. The time must come, 
 when the tie, however sacred, which unites him visibly 
 with his mother, must be broken: and whether it 
 may be so ordained, that it be rudely snapped, or 
 gently and gradually loosened, still the ultimate effect 
 would be the same, equally painful and afflicting. 
 
 Not even the most sincere advocate for filial affec- 
 tion, than which few feelings can be purer or deeper, 
 .not even he who is most intimately penetrated by that 
 sentiment, would wish to contend for the exclusive 
 and constant ascendancy of that principle over the 
 mind. If we do not mean to lose sight entirely of 
 the higher destination, and of the most exalted duties of 
 man, we cannot conceal from ourselves, that man is not 
 created " so noble in reason, so infinite in faculties," 
 to give up his whole existence to his affection for any 
 one individual, while the most comprehensive view 
 of his duties, both to his Maker and to his fellow- 
 men, is clearly laid before him by a thousand witnesses, 
 whose voice he cannot but hear.
 
 63 
 
 Tt is clear, therefore, that the affection of the child 
 to the mother is only to be appreciated in proportion as 
 it serves to impress the infant mind with those emotions, 
 and afterwards to render familiar to it those con- 
 siderations, which belong to the ultimate ends, as far as 
 we may understand them, of the Creator in the formation 
 of man. 
 
 If a mother is conscious of this, she will not find it 
 difficult to take the right view of the affection which 
 Providence has implanted in her child. She will 
 consider it as the germ on which every better feeling 
 must be engrafted. She will be led to consider herself 
 as the instrument which Providence has chosen, to 
 purify that affection, to transfer its most intense agency 
 to a still worthier object She will then begin to 
 understand, why the most unlimited confidence springs 
 so early and voluntarily from the very nature of the 
 child. She will begin to understand, that the infant is 
 taught so early to confide, in order that one day this 
 confidence may be centered and elevated to the 
 confidence of a faith, that will stand unshaken by 
 danger, and unsullied by corruption. 
 
 Let me here allude, my dear friend, to an occasional 
 circumstance, which would have invited me to these 
 reflections, even if I had not been engaged in conversing 
 with you on the same theme. The date of this letter 
 will, perhaps, remind you of a custom of my country, 
 which you have -observed while living amongst us. 
 The days on which the Nativity of our Lord is comme- 
 morated in our churches, have been adopted, since time 
 immemorial, as a season at which the children in every 
 family receive from their parents, and from each other.
 
 64 
 
 little tokens of affection. Need I recal to your recol- 
 lection those scenes of innocent and heartfelt joy, with 
 which you were so much pleased when you witnessed 
 them among our children? They will convey to the 
 mind of every observer a striking proof, how little is 
 requisite to give the most intense satisfaction, and to 
 afford infinite gratification, where there is a real stock 
 of affection, and where that simplicity of heart is still 
 left, which it should be the care of education to pre- 
 serve as long as possible. You have seen, that those 
 days are, amongst us, a real festival of affection, in 
 its fullest and most pleasing sense: and you will 
 certainly not have found, that the children, whose 
 hearts were just then under the influence of affection, 
 were less accessible to the call of sincere and heartfelt 
 devotion. 
 
 I have mentioned this circumstance, because it 
 would afford a copious theme for reflection on the 
 subject that I have been treating of. 
 
 It is upon facts like this, which experience will, 
 at some time or other, suggest to every parent, that 
 I would ground the practical proof for the proposition, 
 that the affections, and especially the early affection of 
 children to their parents, might be intimately con- 
 nected with, and essentially conducive to, their being 
 imbued with those impressions, the object of which is 
 more important than every human consideration, and 
 more sacred than every human tie. .
 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 DECEMBKR31, 1818. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IF the mother has once accustomed herself to take 
 the view to which I alluded in my last, of the affec- 
 tion and the confidence of her infant, the whole of 
 her duties will appear to her in a new light. 
 
 She will then look upon education, not as a task 
 which to her is invariably connected with much labour 
 and difficulty, but as a work of which the facility, and in 
 a great measure the success also, is dependent on herself. 
 She will look upon her own efforts in behalf of her 
 child not as a matter of indifference, or at least of 
 convenience, b|it as a most sacred and most weighty 
 obligation. She will be convinced, that education 
 does not consist in a series of admonitions and correc- 
 tions, of rewards and punishments, of injunctions and 
 directions, strung together without unity of purpose, 
 or dignity of execution; but that it ought to present 
 an unbroken chain of measures, originating in the 
 same principle, in a knowledge of the constant laws 
 of our nature ; practised in the same spirit, a spirit 
 of benevolence and firmness ; and leading to the sam 
 end, the elevation of man to the true dignity of a 
 spiritual being.
 
 But will the mother be able to spiritualise ffo* 
 unfolding faculties, the rising emotions of hei infant? 
 Will she be able to overcome those obstacles which 
 the preponderance of tire animal nature will throw iw 
 her way ? 
 
 Not unless she has first lent her own heart to the 
 influence of a higher principle ; not unless the germs 
 of a spiritual love and faith, which she is to develope 
 in her child, have first gained ground rn the better 
 affections of her own being. 
 
 Here, then, it will be necessary for the mother to 
 pause, and examine herself, how far she may expect to 
 succeed in inculcating that to which in her own practice 
 she may have been a stranger more than she would wish 
 to confess to herself. Dnt let her be sincere, for once ; 
 and if the result of her examination be less favourable 
 to her own expectations, and less flattering to her 
 self-love, let her resolution be the more sincere and vigo- 
 rous, to discard for the future all those minor predi- 
 lections, to check all those wishes which might alien- 
 ate her from her new task ; and to give her whole 
 heart to that which will promote her own final happr- 
 ness, and that of her child. 
 
 However difficult it may appear at first to resign, 
 to dismiss the thought of some hopes, and to defer 
 the accomplishment of others; still that struggle is 
 for the very best cause, and, if serious, cannot be 
 unsuccessful : for there is not an act of resignation, 
 there is not a single fact in the moral world, however 
 distinguished, to which maternal love could not 
 furnish a parallel. 
 
 If the mother is but conscious of the sincerity of
 
 67 
 
 lirr own intentions; if she has raised the tone of her 
 own mind, and elevated the affections of her being 
 above the sphere of subordinate and frivolous pursuits; 
 she will soon be enabled to ascertain the efficacy of 
 her influence on the child. 
 
 Her best and almost infallible criterion wiH be, i<f 
 she really succeeds in accustoming her child to the 
 practice of self-denial. 
 
 Of all the moral habits which may be formed by a 
 judicious education, that of self-denial is the most 
 difficult to acquire, and the roost beneficial when 
 adopted. 
 
 I call it a habit; for though it rests upon a principle, 
 yet it is only by engendering a habit, that that prin- 
 ciple gives evidence of its vitality. The practice of 
 all other virtues, and more especially many of the 
 actions which are admired and held out as examples, 
 may be the result of a well-understood moral rule, 
 which had long been theoretically known before it 
 was applied in a practical case; or again, they may 
 Lave flowed from a momentary enthusiasm, which 
 acts with irresistible power on a mind alive to noble 
 sentiments. But a practice of self-denial, conscien- 
 tiously and cheerfully pursued, can only be the fruit 
 of a long and constant habit. 
 
 The greatest difficulty which the mother will find 
 in her early attempts to form that habit in her infant, 
 Joes not rest with the importunity of the infant, but 
 with her own weakness. 
 
 If she is not herself able to resign her own comfort, 
 and her own fond desires, to her maternal love, she 
 must not think of obtaining such a result in the
 
 68 
 
 infant, for her own sake. It is impossible to inspire 
 others with a moral feeling, if she is not herself per- 
 vaded with it. To endear any virtue to another, she 
 must herself look upon her own duty with pleasure. 
 If she has known Virtue only as the awe-inspiring 
 Goddess, 
 
 " With gait and garb austere, 
 Aud threatening brow severe," 
 
 she will never obtain that mastery over the heart, 
 which is not yielded up to authority, but bestowed as 
 the free gift of affection. 
 
 But if the mother has in the discipline of early 
 years, or in the experience of life, herself gone through 
 a school of self-denial; if she has nourished in her 
 own heart the principle of active benevolence; if she 
 knows resignation, not by name only, but from prac- 
 tice ; then her eloquence, her look of maternal love, 
 her example, will be persuasive, and the infant will, 
 in a future day, bless her memory, and honour it by 
 virtues.
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 JANUARY 7, 1819. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 I AM anxious to elucidate some statements of a 
 preceding letter, concerning the early practice of self- 
 denial. Allow me, for this purpose, to resume the 
 subject of rny last; and if I shall appeal to have dwelt 
 too long on a favourite theme, or to have recurred to 
 it too often, may I hope that you will ascrihe this 
 circumstance, at least, not solely to the loquaciousness 
 of old age, but also to my conviction of the vital 
 importance of the subject. 
 
 The more I have seen of the mental and moral 
 misery under which thousands of our fellow-creatures 
 are suffering ; the more frequently I have observed 
 the wealth without content, the splendour without 
 happiness, among the higher classes; the closer I 
 have investigated into the first springs of those mighty 
 convulsions which have shaken the world, and made 
 even our peaceful vallies ring with the shouts of war, 
 and with the wailing of despair ; the more have I been 
 confirmed in the view, that the immediate causes of 
 all this, and of much misery that yet remains unmen- 
 tioned, have arisen from an undue superiority which 
 the desires of the lower nature of man have assumed
 
 70 
 
 over the energies of the min<l, and the helter affections 
 of the heart. 
 
 And 1 cannot see any remedy placed within the 
 reach of human power, to check the further progress 
 of this misery, and the ulterior demoralisation of our 
 race, but the early influence of mothers, to break, by 
 firmness, the increasing power of animal selfishness, 
 and to overcome it by affection. 
 
 This is the end to which I would wish the practice 
 of self-denial to contribute. For this reason I insist 
 on the circumspection to be employed by mothers in 
 controuling the cravings of infants. 
 
 For this reason, t would again and again request 
 the mother to be watchful in her care, to do all in her 
 power, and to do it with cheerfulness, that none of its 
 real wants may rest unattended to. For it is not only 
 her duty to do so, in order to provide for the physical 
 well-being of the child; but a neglect of this duty is 
 to be still more anxiously avoided, because it might 
 cast a shadow on her own affection, and provoke, if 
 not doubts, at least a feeling of uneasiness which might 
 afterwards lead to them. 
 
 But for this same reason I would entreat a mother 
 to be constantly on her guard against her own weak- 
 ness ; never to indulge the appetite of the child with 
 what may be stimulating to further desire, or what is, 
 at best, superfluous ; and never to encourage impor- 
 tunity.* 
 
 " An infallible way of rendering a child unhappy, is to indulge it 
 in all its demands. Its desires multiply by gratification, without ever 
 resting satisfied : it is lucky for the indulging parents, if it demand not
 
 71 
 
 What I call weakness, she may perlraps call affec- 
 tion. But let her be persuaded, that the character of 
 true affection is far different. The affection for which 
 she would plead is merely animal : it is a feeling for 
 which she cannot account, nnd which she cannot 
 resist. It may become to her also the basis of a more 
 elevated feeling ', of sjMritnalised maternal lore. But, 
 to experience the latter, she must have opened her 
 own heart to the influence of spiritual views and prin- 
 ciples. She must herself know to bear and forbear- 
 to resign and be hamble. She must know a higher 
 object of her wishes, a purer source of enjoyment, than 
 present gratification. She must weigh the experience 
 of the past, and ponder the duties of the future. Her 
 own interest, and her own desires, must not interfere 
 with more momentous obligations, or weaken her 
 attachment and her zeal for the welfare of others. Her 
 affections must not be centered in self; her wishes an<) 
 her hopes must not be limited to the things of this 
 world. 
 
 What is born of the flesh mvst perish. If such be 
 her affection to her child, it will die away before sle 
 is able to do any thing for its real interest. But if her 
 affection is of a higher origin; if its efforts bear the 
 stump of a calm, a mib), ami conscientious spirit; it 
 
 the in. inn for a plaything. You cannot give every thing ; and your 
 refusal is more distressing titan if you had stopt short at first. A child 
 in pain is eutitlcd to great indulgence ; but beware of yielding to fancy , 
 the more the child is indulged, the more headstrong it growg, Mid the 
 more impatient of a disappointment ." J*rd Earns* (Loote HitUt M 
 Education, TO). 1. |>. 54.)
 
 72 
 
 will enable her to conquer her own weakness, ami 
 to elevate, by a judicious controul, the rising emotions 
 of her infant. 
 
 To those who have not had an opportunity of 
 observing it frequently, it is impossible to form an 
 idea of the rapidity and eagerness with which the 
 animal instinct is increasing, if left to itself, without 
 the salutary check of maternal influence. But the 
 means so frequently employed even by mothers, to 
 restrain its increase, by the fear of punishment, can 
 only tend to make the evil worse. The mere act of 
 forbidding is a strong excitement to desire. Fear can 
 never act as a moral restraint; it can only act as 
 a stimulusto the physical appetite, and exasperate and 
 alienate the mind. 
 
 This then is gained by severity.* Its consequences 
 
 * " I absolutely prohibit severity ; which will render the child timid, 
 and introduce a habit of dissimulation, the -vorst of habits. If such 
 severity be exercised, so as to alienate the child's affection, there is an 
 end to education ; the parent, or keeper, is transformed into a cruel 
 tyrant over a trembling slave. Beware, on the other hand, of betraying 
 any uneasiness in refusing what a child calls for unreasonably : per- 
 cclviug yoar uneasiness, it will renew its attempt, hoping to find you 
 in a better humour. Even infants, some at least, are capable of this 
 Mtitice ; therefore, if an infant explain by signs, what it ought to have, 
 let it be gratified instantly, with a cheerful countenance. If it desire 
 what it ought not to have, let the refusal be sedate, but firm. Regard 
 not its crying: it will soon give over, if not listened to. The task is 
 easier with a child, who understands what is said to it : say only with a 
 firm tone, that it cannot have what it desires ; but without showing any 
 heat on the one hand, or concern on the other. The child, believing 
 that the thing is impossible, will cease to fret." Loose Hints OH 
 Education, vol. 1. p. 48.
 
 are, no doubt, as mischievous as those of indulgence. 
 Against an excess of both, I can only repeat the 
 recommendation of affection and firmness. 
 
 From these two guiding principles, the mother will 
 derive the satisfaction to see that, when her infant, 
 from an inability to understand her motives, cannot 
 yet respect her as a wise mother, it will, for the kind- 
 ness of her manner, obey her as a loving mother.
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 JAVtfcltV 11, 181t. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 1 HAVE already alluded to the period, when the 
 child is separated from the immediate influence of 
 oiaternal love. 
 
 It is natural for a mother to look forward to that 
 period with much anxiety. The time will come, and 
 come when it may, it will always be too soon for her, 
 when she must give up the satisfaction of directing, 
 herself, every step, of watching and assisting the 
 progress of her child. A thousand apprehensions will 
 be excited in her breast ; a thousand dangers, real or 
 imaginary, will appear to beset every step; and a 
 thousand temptations, to lurk under the joys and the 
 task of life into which her child is now to enter. 
 
 These apprehensions will be felt at an earlier time 
 for a son, because the present system of society dis- 
 misses him earlier from the immediate influence of 
 the mother. And though he may still be under the 
 care of an affectionate parent, or of judicious and 
 benevolent teachers, yet will a mother feel a void on 
 the occasion, when he is for the first time separated 
 from her side. 
 
 Then she will be disposed to retrace all the different
 
 75 
 
 stages of his gradual development : the little history 
 of his present habits, the moments in which she best 
 succeeded to give salutary impressions, and in which 
 his affection promised fair to overcome the less ami- 
 able part of his temper : she will be disposed to dwell 
 more particularly on those facts, which may justify a 
 hope, that her labour has not been in vain ; that one 
 day she shall see the fruits of her early care. 
 
 But while she will be disposed thus to dwell on 
 the exhilarating prospect before her, her imagination, 
 and indeed her affection, will be busy in sketching 
 out the various scenes of his future life. The next 
 few years may perhaps be an object altogether of less 
 solicitude; but how should not a mother be strongly 
 affected by the idea, that soon, very soon, he, whose 
 tender infancy she had been protecting, will have to 
 meet life unprepared, unless it be by the advice of hi 
 i'ru'ii'U, by the vital energy of his principles, and by a 
 small but perhaps dearly-bought stock of experience. 
 Recollections of the past, and anticipations of the 
 future, will crowd before her eyes, and as she may 
 dismiss or resume them, her bosom will be alive to 
 the emotions of alternate hope and fear. 
 
 44 The golden morning of hi* days, 
 A Mother's watchful care surveys / 
 Bui shafts fly quicklv from the string, 
 
 And years are fast upon the wing: 
 
 He tears him from a mother's, side, 
 
 Eager on stormy lite to roam, 
 
 With pilgrim steps he wanders wide, 
 
 Returns a stranger to bU borne." 
 
 But a thinking mother will not wait till these consj-
 
 76 
 
 derations are suggested by the necessity of a sepa- 
 ration which can no longer be postponed. She will, 
 at an early period, have occasion to reflect on the 
 nature and the duration of her connection with the 
 child. And far from giving rise to unpleasant or even 
 painful feelings, this train of thought may enable her 
 to take not only a just, but also a gratifying view of 
 the subject. 
 
 In a previous letter I have spoken of the first 
 connection of the mother and the child, after its birth, 
 as being merely a phenomenon of animal nature. By 
 this I understand, that in both, the power which 
 unites them is, in its origin, instinctive. In the infant 
 it is constantly excited by a feeling of want; in the 
 mother, it is strongly .supported by a consciousness of 
 duty. 
 
 If in the mother also I ascribe to it a sort of 
 instinctive agency, observation will, I think, furnish 
 many facts which will clearly prove it. Among them, 
 it is not the least remarkable, that in an individual 
 that has, from circumstances, been called upon to act 
 as a mother to the infant of a stranger, the same 
 affection is very frequently engendered, as if it had 
 been her own child. And this has been observed in 
 cases when a nurse had not only been much grieved 
 for the separation from her own child, but when at 
 first she had even evinced decided aversion to the 
 child now confided to her care. So that the maternal 
 instinct would seem to be transferable, as it were, to 
 another object ; an observation which argues at once 
 for its original energy, and for its priority to the 
 circumstances under which a sense of duty alone might 
 have led to the same efforts.
 
 77 
 
 But if in the infant this instinct is manifested, before 
 a distinct sensation of its wants was possible, and if 
 it has acted in the mother before she has reflected on 
 her duties, there i^yet, as we have seen, one feature, 
 and that of a pleasing kind, by which the character of 
 this instinct is distinguished. This feature is no other 
 bul affection. 
 
 This affection, again, we may call instinctive, in its 
 first origin. In the infant it is, at first, quite exclusive, 
 its only object is the mother. 
 
 Still more: not only the attachment of the infant is 
 limited to the mother, but it seems to be accessible to 
 no kind of sensation, unless in some manner connected 
 with her. Unpleasant sensations immediately make 
 it look for relief or protection to her; and however 
 earnestly strangers may exert thgmselves to amuse 
 Che infant, it is well known how difficult it is for them 
 to fix its attention, without distressing, instead of 
 pleasing. 
 
 But this state of things cannot continue very long. 
 The more the child grows physically independent of 
 the mother; the more it gets accustomed to use its 
 senses and also its faculties ; the less chance will there 
 be for its affection being still exclusively confined to 
 the mother. 
 
 And here ft will become necessary for the mother 
 to be cautious, as well against the temptation of 
 monopolising, as against the danger of alienating, its 
 affection.
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 JAMUARY 19, 1819, 
 MY I>EAR GREAVES, 
 
 I HAVE, in my last letter, supposed an infant to be 
 arrived at the period, when the immediate connection 
 with the mother begins gradually to loosen itself. 
 
 The different degrees on the relaxation of this tte r 
 must in a great measure depend on the natural disposi- 
 tion, and even on ttie physical constitution of the child. 
 A sickly child, or one whose first movements are 
 marked by timidity, will for a long time know of 
 affection or confidence in no person but only the 
 mother. 
 
 But children of a healthy constitution, will soon give 
 signs of an inclination to make themselves independent 
 of the assistance of others. They will be found to 
 observe a great many objects, to which their attention 
 has not been called in any way; next to observation, 
 >r rather together with it, will come desire; and instead 
 of expressing this by their usual signs, and wail.irig 
 patiently till it is complied with, they will make 
 attempts to reach the object, and appropriate it to them- 
 selves. These exertions, which at first are very 
 imperfect, and sometimes ludicrous to the beholders,
 
 will be rc|>caiod every time with greater energy, tiff- 
 at length they succeed. Ami if it is impossible to 
 succeed, the desire, instead of subsiding, will be only 
 
 I TtO 1X^3 Sfl* 
 
 I have already alluded to there cravings of the infant, 
 and spoken of the necessity to counteract them by 
 firmness and benevolence, 
 
 But I did not then mean to describe them as some- 
 thing which in itself was bad or blameable, I described 
 them a* the necessary effects of the animal instinct, of 
 which even an excess, though to be prevented, yet 
 cold not, at that tender age, be punishable; and from 
 this reason, while I recommended an affectionate mode 
 of counteracting them, or rath*, r of substituting some- 
 thing better in their place, I decided against every 
 measure that might proceed from severity. 
 
 If, on such a plan, a mother has succeeded in repres- 
 sing the inordinate cravings, she will not then have the 
 least occasion to look -with other feelings than those of 
 gratification on those little attempts at independence. 
 They are the most unquestionable signs of the progress 
 wluHi a child has been making. And if they are 
 well directed, she may look upon them as the pre- 
 cursors of a long and laudable activity. 
 
 All the faculties will appear to take part in the 
 development of the child. They will all be called 
 into play by circumstances, which surround the child 
 every day and almost every hour. 
 
 Who knows not, that it is an event in the life of 
 every one of us, to be able for the first time to walk 
 without assistance? It is an event which is comme- 
 morated in the family, and related to all the friends,
 
 80 
 
 who severally express their joy at the long wished-for 
 consummation. 
 
 I would certainly not wish to spoil their joy at the 
 event : I am far from underrating its importance : but 
 I would, at the same time, wish them to bestow, in 
 addition to their congratulations, a fewjmoments upon 
 a more serious consideration. 
 
 The time when a child first begins to walk without 
 assistance is indeed an epoch in the history of his 
 education. It is evident, that it is the most marked 
 step of physical independence of others. But at the 
 same time it occasions a new mode of manifestation of 
 the affection. 
 
 The child, who is now able to move as he chooses, is also 
 able to come to the mother. Instead of seeking for her 
 with the eye only, or stretching out the little arms 
 after her, the child is now enabled to seek the presence 
 of the mother; and the more this has the appearance 
 of a free and voluntary effort, the more endearing will 
 it be to the mother, as a new sign of affection, which 
 continues, and may long continue, a bond between 
 them, when the last tiace has disappeared of the 
 helplessness which had first claimed it. 
 
 si!:
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 JANUARY 25, 1819. 
 Mr DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IN describing the manner in which the immediate 
 influence of the mother is gradually weakened, and 
 the connection between her and the child loosened, 
 we must not stop at the enumeration of those facts 
 which I have detailed in my last. 
 
 It is not the mere physical growth, the acquirement 
 of the full use of all the faculties of the body, which 
 constitutes the independence of the child. The off- 
 spring of the animal creation have indeed reached the 
 highest point of their development, when they are 
 strong enough to subsist and provide for themselves. 
 But it is far otherwise with the offspring of man. 
 
 In the progress of time the child not only is daily 
 exercising and strengthening its physical faculties, but 
 it begins also to feel intellectually and morally inde- 
 
 O J -i 
 
 pendent. 
 
 From observation and memory there is only one 
 step to reflection. Though imperfect, yet this ope- 
 ration is frequently found among the early exercises 
 of the infant mind. The powerful stimulus of 
 inquisitiveness prompts to exertions, which, if suc- 
 cessful, or encouraged by others, will lead to a habit 
 of thought.
 
 If we inquire into the cause of the habit of thought- 
 lessness, which is so frequently complained of, we 
 shall find that there has been a want of judicious 
 encouragement of the first attempts at thought. 
 
 Children are troublesome ; their questions are of 
 little consequence ; they are constantly asking about 
 what they do not understand; they must not have their 
 will; they must learn to be silent. 
 
 This reasoning is frequently adopted, and, in con- 
 sequence, means are found to deter children from the 
 provoking practice of their inquisitiveness. 
 
 I am certainly of opinion, that they should not be 
 indulged in a habit of asking idle questions. Many 
 of their questions certainly betray nothing more than a 
 childish curiosity. But it would be astonishing if it 
 were otherwise ; and the more judicious should be the 
 answers which they receive. 
 
 You are acquainted with my opinion, that, as soon 
 as the infant has reached a certain age, every object 
 that surrounds him might be made instrumental to the 
 excitement of thought. You are aware of the prin- 
 ciples which I have laid down, and the exercises 
 which I have pointed out to mothers.* You have 
 frequently expressed your astonishment at the success 
 with which mothers who followed my plan, or who 
 had formed a similar one of their own, were con- 
 stantly employed in awakening, in very young chil- 
 dren, the dormant faculties of thought. The keenness 
 
 * The best practical explanation, in English, of these details, will 
 be found in the several Numbers of the publication, " Hints to Parents. 
 In the spirit of Pestalorzi's method."
 
 With which they followed what was laid before them, 
 the regularity with which they went through their 
 little exercises, has given you the conviction, that 
 upon a similar plan it would be easy not only for a 
 mother to educate a few, but for a teacher also to 
 manage a large number of very young children. But 
 I have not now to do with the means which may be 
 best appropriated to the purpose of developing thought. 
 I merely want to point to the fact, that thought will 
 spring up in the inftmt mind; and that, though 
 neglected, or even misdirected, yet a restless intel- 
 lectual activity must, sooner or later, enable the child, 
 in more than one respect, to grow intellectually inde- 
 pendent of others. 
 
 But the most important step is that which concerns 
 the affections of the heart. 
 
 The infant very soon commences to show by signs, 
 and by its whole conduct, that it is pleased with some 
 persons, and that it entertains a dislike, or rather that 
 it is in fear, of others. 
 
 In this respect habit and circumstances may do 
 much; but I think it will be generally observed, that 
 an infant will be easily accustomed to the sight and 
 the attentions of those whom it sees frequently and in 
 friendly relation to the mother. 
 
 Impressions of this kind are not lost upon children. 
 The friends of the mother soon become those of the 
 infant. An atmosphere of kindness is the most kin- 
 dred to its own nature. It is unconsciously accus- 
 tomed to that atmosphere, and from the undisturbed 
 smile, and the clear and cheerful glance of the eye, it 
 is evident that it enjoys it 
 
 MS
 
 84 
 
 The infant, then, learns to love those whom the 
 mother considers with affection. It learns to confide 
 in those to whom the mother shows confidence. 
 
 Thus it will go on for some time. But the more 
 the child observes, the more distinct are the impres- 
 sions produced by the conduct of others. 
 
 It will therefore become possible even for a stranger, 
 and one who is a stranger also to the mother, by a 
 certain mode of conduct to gain the affection and the 
 confidence of a chilcL To obtain them, the first 
 requisite is constancy in the general conduct. It 
 would appear scarcely credible, but it is strictly true, 
 that children are not blind to, and that some children 
 resent, the slightest deviation, for instance, from truth* 
 In like manner, bad temper, once indulged, may go a 
 great way to alienate the affection of the child, which 
 can never be gained a second time by flatteries. This 
 fact is certainly astonishing ; and it may also be quoted 
 as evidence for the statement, that there is in the 
 infant a pure sense of the true and the right, which 
 struggles against the constant temptation, arising from 
 the weakness of human nature, to falsehood and 
 depravity. 
 
 The child, then, begins to judge for himself, not 
 of things only, but also of men ; he acquires an idea of 
 character; he grows, more and more, morally inde- 
 pendent.
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 FEBRUARY 4, 1819. 
 MY DEAR GREAVKS, 
 
 IF education is understood to be the work, not of 
 t certain course of exercises resumed at stated times, 
 but of a continual and benevolent su peri n tendance ; 
 if the importance of development is acknowledged 
 not only in favour of the memory, and the intellect, 
 and a few abilities which lead to indispensable attain- 
 ments, but in favour of all the faculties, whatever 
 may be their names, or nature, or energy, which 
 Providence has implanted ; its province, thus enlarged, 
 will yet be with less difficulty surveyed from out- 
 point of view, and will have more of a systematic and 
 truly philosophical character, than an incoherent mass 
 of exercises, arranged without unity of principle,, and 
 gone through without interest, which frequently, 
 not very appropriately, receives the name of 
 education. 
 
 We must bear in mind, that the ultimate end of 
 education is not a perfection in the accomplishments of 
 the school, but fitness for life ; not the acquirement of 
 habits of blind obedieuce, and of prescribed diligence, 
 but a preparation for independent action. We must 
 bear in mind, that whatever class of society a pupil
 
 .. . 80 
 
 may belong to, whatever calling he may be intended 
 for, there are certain faculties in human nature com- 
 mon to all, which constitute the stock of the funda- 
 mental energies of man. We have no right to with- 
 hold from any one the opportunities of developing all 
 their faculties. It may be judicious to treat some of 
 them with marked attention, and to give up the idea 
 of bringing others to high perfection. The diversity 
 of talent and inclination, of plans and pursuits, is a 
 sufficient proof for the necessity of such a distinction. 
 But I repeat, that we have no right to shut out the 
 child from the development of those faculties also, 
 which we may not for the present conceive to be very 
 essential for his future calling or station in life. 
 
 Who is not acquainted with the vicissitudes of 
 human fortune, which have frequently rendered an 
 attainment valuable, that was little esteemed before, 
 or led to regret the want of application to an exercise 
 that had been treated with contempt ? Who has not 
 at some time or other experienced the delight of being 
 able to benefit others by his advice or assistance, under 
 circumstances when, but for his interference, they 
 must have been deprived of that benefit? And who, 
 even if in practice he is a stranger to it, wonld not at 
 least in theory acknowledge, that the greatest satisfac- 
 tion that man can obtain, is a consciousness that he is 
 pre-eminently qualified to render himself useful ? 
 
 But even if all this were not deserving of attention ; 
 if the sufficiency of ordinary acquirements for the 
 great majority were vindicated on grounds, perhaps^ 
 of partial experience, and of inference from well-known 
 facts; I would still maintain, that our systems of
 
 87 
 
 education have for the most part been labouring under 
 this inconvenience, that they did not assign the due 
 proportion to the different exercises proposed by them. 
 
 The only correct idea of this subject is to be derived 
 from the examination of human nature with all it* 
 faculties. We do not find, in the vegetable or the 
 animal kingdom, any species of objects gifted with 
 certain qualities which are not, in some stage of its 
 existence, called into play, and contribute to the full 
 development of the character of the species in the 
 individual. Even in the mineral kingdom, the wonders 
 of Providence are incessantly manifested in the num- 
 berless combinations of chry stall ization ; and thus 
 even in the lowest department of created things, as far 
 as we are acquainted with them, a constant law, the 
 means employed by Supreme Intelligence, decides 
 upon the formation, the shape, and the individual 
 character of a mineral, according to its inherent 
 properties. Although the circumstances under which 
 a mineral may have been formed, or a plant may have 
 grown, or an animal brought up, may influence and 
 modify, yet they can never destroy that result, which 
 the combined agency of its natural energies or qualities 
 will produce. 
 
 Thus education, instead of merely considering what 
 is to be imparted to children, ought to consider first 
 what they may be said already to possess, if not as a 
 developed, at least as an involved faculty capable of 
 development. Or if, instead of speaking thus in the 
 abstract, we will but recollect, that it is to the great 
 Author of life, that man owes the possession, and is 
 responsible for the use, of his innate faculties, edu-
 
 ' X 
 
 cation should not only decide what is to be made of a 
 child, but rather inquire, what is a child qualified for ? 
 what is his destiny, as a created and responsible being ? 
 what are his faculties as a rational and moral being ? 
 what are the means pointed out for their perfection, 
 and the end held out as the highest object of their 
 efforts, by the Almighty Father of all, both in creation, 
 and in the page of revelation ? 
 
 To these questions, the answer must be simple and 
 comprehensive. It must combine all mankind, it 
 must be applicable to all, without distinction of zones, 
 or nations, in which they may be born. It must 
 acknowledge, in the first place, the rights of man in the 
 fullest sense of the word. It must proceed to show, 
 that these rights, far from being confined to those 
 exterior advantages which have from time to time 
 been secured by a successful struggle of the people, 
 embrace a much higher privilege, the nature of which 
 is not yet generally understood or appreciated. They 
 embrace the rightful claims of all classes to a general 
 diffusion of useful knowledge, a careful development 
 of the intellect, and judicious attention to all the facul- 
 ties of man, physical, intellectual, and moral. 
 
 It is in vain to talk of liberty, when man is unnerved, 
 or his mind not stored with knowledge, or his judgment 
 neglected, and above all, when he is left unconscious of 
 his rights and his duties as a moral being.* 
 
 * " We entertain a firm conviction, that the principles of liberty, as in 
 government and trade, so also in education, are all-importaut to the 
 happiness of mankind. Tu the triumph of those principles we look 
 forward, not, we trust, with a fanatical confidence, but assuredly with
 
 89 
 
 LETTER XXIf. 
 
 FEBRUARY 10, 1810. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IF, according to correct principles of education, all 
 the faculties of man are to be developed, and all his 
 slumbering energies called into play, the early attenlion 
 of mothers must be directed to a subject which is 
 generally considered to require neither much thought 
 nor experience, and therefore as generally neglected. 
 I mean the physical education of children. 
 
 Who has not a few general sentences at hand, which 
 he will be ready to quote, but perhaps not to practise, 
 on the management of children ? I am aware, that 
 much has been done away with, that used to exercise 
 the very worst influence on children. I am aware that 
 the general management of them has become much 
 more rational, and that their tasks and amusements 
 have been much improved by a judicious attention to 
 their wants and their faculties. But much still 
 
 cheerful and steadfast hope. Tbcir nature may be misunderstood ; 
 their progress may be retarded. They may he maligned, derided, nay, 
 at times exploded, and apparently forgotten. But we do, in our sou's, 
 believe that they are strong with the strength, and quick with the 
 vitality of truth ; that when they fall, it is to rebound ; that when they 
 recede, it is to spring forward with greater elasticity ; that when they seem 
 to perish, there are the seeds of renovation in their very decay." 
 Edinburgh Rtiicw, March 1826.
 
 90 
 
 remains to be done ; and we shall deserve little credit 
 for a real wish to improve, if we suffer ourselves to 
 rest satisfied with the idea, that all is not so bad as it 
 might be, or as it ma)- have been. 
 
 The revival of gymnastics is, in my opinion, the 
 most important step that has been done in that direc- 
 tion. The great merit of the gymnastic art is not the 
 facility with which certain exercises are performed, 
 or the .qualification which they may give for certain 
 exertions that require much energy and dexterity ; 
 though an attainment of that sort is by no means to 
 be despised. But the greatest advantage resulting 
 from a practice of those exercises, is the natural pro- 
 gress which is observed in the arrangement of them, 
 beginning with those which, while they are easy in 
 themselves, yet lead as a preparatory practice to 
 others which are more complicated and more difficult. 
 There is not, perhaps, any art in which it may be so 
 clearly shown, that energies which appeared to be 
 wanting, are to be produced, as it were, or at least are 
 to be developed by no other means than practice alone. 
 This might afford a most useful hint to all those who 
 are engaged in teaching any object of instruction, and 
 who meet with difficulties in bringing their pupils to 
 that proficiency which they had expected. Let them 
 recommence on a new plan, in which the exercises 
 shall be differently arranged, and the subjects brought 
 forward in a manner that will admit of the natural 
 progress from the easier to the more difficult. When 
 talent is wanting altogether, I know that it cannot be 
 imparted by any system of education. But I have been 
 taught by experience to consider the cases, in which 
 talents of any kind are absolutely wanting, but very
 
 91 
 
 few. And in most cases, I have had the satisfaction to 
 find, that a faculty which had been quite given over, 
 instead of being developed, had been obstructed rather 
 in its agency by a variety of exercises which tended to 
 perplex or to deter from further exertion. 
 
 And here 1 would attend to a prejudice, which is 
 common enough concerning the use of gymnastics: it is 
 frequently said, that they may be very good for those 
 who are strong enough ; but that those who are suffer- 
 ing from weakness of constitution would be altogether 
 unequal to, and even endangered by, a practice of 
 gymnastics. 
 
 Now I will venture to say, that this rests merely 
 upon a misunderstanding of the first principles of 
 gymnastics : the exercises not only vary in proportion to 
 the strength of individuals ; but exercises may be, and 
 have been devised, forthoseateo who were decidedly suf- 
 fering. And I have consulted the authority of the first 
 physicians, who declared, that in cases which had 
 come under their personal observation, individuals 
 affected with pulmonary complaints, if these had not 
 already proceeded too far, had been materially relieved 
 and benefitted by a constant practice of the few and 
 simple exercises, which the system in such cases pro- 
 poses. 
 
 And for this very reason, that exercises may be 
 devised for every age, and for every degree of bodily 
 strength*, however reduced, I consider it to be essential, 
 that mothers should make themselves acquainted with 
 the princjples of gymnastics, in order that, among the 
 elementary and preparatory exercises, they may be able 
 to select those which, according to circumstances, will 
 be most likely to suit and benefit their children.
 
 I do not mean to say, that mothers should strictly 
 adhere to those exercises only which they may find 
 pointed out in a work on gymnastics; they may, of 
 course, vary them as they find desirable or advisable ; 
 but I would recommend a mother much rather to 
 consult one who has some experience in the manage- 
 ment of gymnastics with children, before she 
 decides upon altering the course proposed, or adopt- 
 ing other exercises of which she is unable to cal- 
 culate the exact degree of strength which they may 
 require, or the benefit that her children may derive 
 from them. 
 
 If the physical advantage of gymnastics is great and 
 uncontrovertible, 1 would contend, that the moral 
 advantage resulting from them is as valuable. I 
 would again appeal to your own observation. You 
 have seen a number of Schools in Germany and Swit- 
 zerland, of which gymnastics formed a leading feature ; 
 and I recollect that in our conversations on the subject, 
 you made the remark, which exactly agrees with my 
 own experience, that gymnastics, well conducted, 
 essentially contribute to render children not only 
 cheerful and healthy, which, for moral education, are 
 two all-important points, but also to promote among 
 them a certain spirit of union, and a brotherly 
 feeling, which is most gratifying to the observer: habits 
 of industry, openness and frankness of character, 
 personal courage, and a manly conduct in suffering 
 pain, are also among the natural and constant conse- 
 quences of an early and a continued practice of exercises 
 on the gymnastic system.
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 FEBRUARY 18, 1827. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 PHYSICAL education ought by no means to be 
 confined to those exercises which now receive the 
 denomination of gymnastics. By means of them, 
 strength and dexterity will be acquired in the use of 
 the limbs in general; but particular exercises ought 
 to be devised for the practice of all the senses. 
 
 This idea may at first appear a superfluous refine- 
 ment, or an unnecessary encumbrance of free develop- 
 ment. We have acquired the full use of our senses, 
 to be sure, without any special instruction of that 
 sort: but the question is not, whether these exercises 
 are indispensable, but whether, under many circum- 
 stances, they will not prove very useful. 
 
 How many are there of us, whose eye would, 
 without any assistance, judge correctly of a distance, 
 or of the proportion of the size of different objects? 
 How many are there, who distinguish and recognise 
 the nice shades of colours, without comparing the one 
 with the other; or whose ear will be alive to the 
 slightest variation of sound ? Those who are able to 
 do this with some degree of perfection, will be found 
 to derive their facility cither from a certain innate
 
 94 
 
 talent, or from constant and labourioua practice. Now 
 it is evident that there is a certain superiority in these 
 attainment?, which natural talent gives without any 
 exertion, and which instruction could never impart, 
 though attended by the most diligent application. 
 But if practice cannot do every thing, at least it can 
 do much; and the earlier it is began, the easier and 
 the more perfect must be the success. 
 
 A regular system of exercises of this description, is 
 yet a desideratum. But it cannot be difficult for a 
 mother to introduce a number of them, calculated to 
 develope and perfectionate the eye and the ear, into the 
 amusements of her children. For it is desirable that 
 every thing of that -kind should be treated as an 
 amusement, rather than as any thing else. The 
 greatest liberty must prevail, and the whole must be 
 done with a certain cheerfulness, without which all 
 these exercises, as gymnastics themselves, would 
 become dull, pedantic, and ridiculous. 
 
 It will be well done to connect these exercises very 
 early with others, tending to form the taste. It seems 
 not to be sufficiently understood, that good taste and 
 good feelings are kindred to each other, and that they 
 reciprocally confirm each other. Though the ancients 
 have said, that " to study those arts which are suited 
 to a free-born mind, soothes the character, and takes 
 away the roughness of exterior manners," yet little has 
 been done to open a free access to those enjoyments or 
 accomplishments to all, and especially to the majority 
 of the people. If they must not be expected to be 
 able to give much of their attention to subordinate or 
 ornamental pursuits, while so much of it is engrossed
 
 90 
 
 by providing for their first and necessary wants; still 
 this does not furnish a conclusive reason why they 
 should be shut out altogether from every pursuit above 
 the toil of their ordinary avocations. 
 
 Yet I know not a more gratifying scene, than to see, 
 as I have seen it among the poor, a mother spreading 
 around her a spirit of silent but serene enjoyment, 
 diffusing among her children a spring of better feelings, 
 and setting the example of removing every thing that 
 might offend the taste, not indeed of a fastidious ob- 
 server, but yet of one used to move in another sphere. 
 It is difficult to describe by what means this can be 
 effected. But I have seen it under circumstances 
 which did not promise to render it even possible. Of 
 one thing I am certain, that it is only through the true 
 spirit of maternal love that it can be obtained. That 
 feeling, of which I cannot too frequently repeat that 
 it is capable of an elevation to the standard of the very 
 best feelings of human nature, is intimately connected 
 with a happy instinct, that will lead to a path equally 
 remote from listlessness and indolence, as it is from 
 artificial refinement. Refinement and fastidiousness 
 may do much, if upheld by constant watchfulness ; 
 a nature, however, a truth will be wanting; and even 
 the casual observer will be struck with a restraint 
 incompatible with an atmosphere of sympathy. 
 
 Now that I am on the topic, I will not let the 
 opportunity pass by without speaking of one of the 
 most effective aids of moral education. You are aware 
 that 1 mean MUSIC, and you are not only acquainted 
 with my sentiments on that subject, but you have also 
 observed the very satisfactory results which we have
 
 96 
 
 obtained in our schools. The exertions of my excel- 
 lent friend Nageli, who has with equal taste and 
 judgment reduced the highest principles of his art to 
 the simplest elements, have enabled us to bring our 
 children to a proficiency, which, on any other plan, 
 must be the work of much time and labour. 
 
 But it is not this proficiency which I would describe 
 as a desirable accomplishment in education. It is the 
 marked and most beneficial influence of music on the 
 feelings, which 1 have always thought and always 
 observed to be most efficient in preparing or attuning, 
 as it were, the mind for the best of impressions. The 
 exquisite harmony of a superior performance, the 
 studied elegance of the execution, may indeed give 
 satisfaction to a connoisseur ; but it is the simple and 
 untaught grace of melody which speaks to the heart of 
 every human being. Our own national melodies, 
 which have since time immemorial been resounding in 
 our native vallies, are fraught with reminiscences of the 
 brightest page of our history, and of the most endear- 
 ing scenes of domestic life. But the effect of music in 
 education is not only to keep alive a national feeling : it 
 goes much deeper ; if cultivated in the right spirit, it 
 strikes at the root of every bad or narrow feeling, of 
 every ungenerous or mean propensity, of every emo- 
 tion'unworthy of humanity. 
 
 In saying so, I might quote an authority, which 
 commands our attention on account of the elevated 
 character and genius of the man from whom it pro- 
 ceeds. It is well-known, that there was not a more 
 eloquent and warm advocate of the moral virtues of 
 music than the venerable Luther. But though his
 
 97 
 
 I ias made itself heart), and is still held in the highest 
 esteem among us, y< t experience has .spoken still 
 louder, and nu>: nahly, to tlu: truth of the 
 
 proposition which he was iii>t to vindicate. 
 
 Kxpenence has lo;;^ since |)rovcd, that u system pro- 
 ceeding upon the principle of sympathy would be 
 imperfect, if it were to deny itself the assist;:;, 
 that powerful means, of the culture of the heart. 
 Th*>>e scli-jols, . -.milks, i;i which music has 
 
 retained the cluui'ul and chaste character which it is 
 sf> important that it should preM-rve, have invariably 
 displayed scenes <>t' moral fieliiM:, and consequently of 
 happiness, \\hi< douht as to the intrinsic 
 
 value of that ait, which has ,-unk , 
 
 !>ai harism 
 
 1 need i; ; !IUMI: 
 
 111 elr 
 
 which man is capable. IL is almo>t univv . 
 :i < knowled^ed, that Lutlier has seen the truth, when 
 he pointed out music, devoid of studied pomp and 
 vain ornament, in it^ viemn an.', impressive simplicity, 
 as one of the most ell'icient means of elevating and 
 purifying genuine i 'devotion. 
 
 \\Y have frequently, in our conversations on this 
 subject, been at a loss how to account for the circum- 
 stance, that in your own country, though that fact is as 
 illy acknowledged, yet music does not form a 
 mute prominent feature in general education. It. . 
 
 that the notion prevails, that it would reqime 
 mie time and application than can conveniently be 
 o
 
 98 
 
 bestowed upon it, to make its influence extend also 
 on the education of the people. 
 
 Now T would appeal, with the same confidence as 
 I would to yourself, to any traveller, whether he has 
 not been struck with the facility, as well as the success 
 with which it is cultivated among us. Indeed, there 
 is scarcely a village school throughout Switzerland, 
 and perhaps there is none throughout Germany or 
 Prussia, in which something is not done for an 
 acquirement at least of the elements of music, on the 
 new and more appropriate plan. 
 
 This is a fact which it cannot be difficult to exa- 
 mine, and which it will be impossible to dispute; and 
 I will conclude this letter by expressing the hope 
 which we have been entertaining together, that this 
 fact will not be overlooked in a country which has 
 never been backward in suggesting or adopting im- 
 provement, when founded on facts, and confirmed by 
 experience. * 
 
 * The Editor begs leave to observe, that in the Infant Schools some- 
 thing has been attempted in the direction which Pestalozzi recom- 
 mends. Though he is aware, that in most Infant Schools the musical 
 department will yet be found the most deficient part of the system, 
 still the results are of a nature to give encouragement to the further 
 pursuit of the subject. It is certainly very desirable, that au individual 
 intimately acquainted with the science of music, and at t^e same time 
 interested in popular education, may undertake to lay down the elemen- 
 tary principles upon which a more successful cultivation of music 
 might proceed. The Editor has much pleasure in stating, that there 
 are at present more than one individual, deeply interested in education, 
 with whom music has been a favourite pursuit, and who are acquainted 
 with the admirable work of Hans Nageli, of Zurich, who hav lately
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 FEBRUARY 27, 1819- 
 MY DEAII GREAVLS, 
 
 IN the branch of education oi' which I have been 
 treating in the two last letters, I conceive that to the 
 elements of music should be subjoined the elements of 
 drawing. 
 
 We all know from experience, that among the first 
 manifestations of the faculties of a child, is a desire, 
 and an attempt of imitation. This accounts for the 
 acquirement of language, and for the first imperfect 
 utterance of sounds imitative of music, which is 
 common to most children when they have heard a 
 tune with which they were pleased. The progress in 
 both depends on the greater or smaller portion of 
 attention which children give to the things that 
 surround them, and on their quickness of perception. 
 In the very same way as this applies to the ear and the 
 organs of speech, it applies also to the eye and the 
 
 tamed their attention to this subject. Nothing can be more (ratifying 
 to the friends of popular education, than to see, as we have lately 
 seen in more than one instance, superior talents engaging in that cause 
 from motives of pare benevolence. 
 
 o 2
 
 100 
 
 employment of the hand. Children who evince some 
 curiosity in the objects brought before their eyes, very 
 soon begin to employ their ingenuity and skill in copy- 
 ing what they have 'seen. Most children will manage 
 to construct something in imitation of a building, of 
 any materials they can lay hold of. 
 
 This desire, which is natural to them, should not be 
 neglected. It is, like all the faculties, capable of 
 regular development, It is therefore well done to 
 furnish children with playthings which will facilitate 
 these their first essays, and occasionally to assist them. 
 No encouragement of that sort is lost upon them, and 
 encouragement should never be withheld, when it 
 promotes innocent pleasure, and when it may lead to 
 useful occupation. To relieve them from the 
 monotonousness of their daily and hourly repeated 
 trifles, and to introduce variety into their little. amuse- 
 ments, acts as a stimulus to their togtmnty and 
 sharpens their observation, while it gains their interest. 
 
 As soon as they are able to make the essay, there is 
 nothing so well calculated for this object as some 
 elementary practice of 'drawing. You have seen the 
 course of preparatory exercises, by which some of my 
 friends have so well succeeded in facilitating these 
 pursuits for quite young children. It would be un- 
 reasonable to expect that they should begin by drawing 
 any object before them as a whole. It is necessary to 
 analyse for them the parts and elements of which it 
 consists. Whenever this has been attempted, the 
 progress has been astonishing, and equalled only by the 
 delight with which the children 'followed this their
 
 ini 
 
 favourite pursuit. My friends Kamsauer and Bonifarr* 
 have undertaken tin- very useful work, of arranging 
 such a course in its nalural progress from the easiest to 
 the most complicate:! , nnd the number of 
 
 schools in which their method has been successfully 
 practised, con firms the experience which we have made 
 at Yverdun of its merits. 
 
 The general advantages resulting from an early prac- 
 tice of drawing, are evident to every one. Those who 
 arc familiar with the art, are known to look upon 
 almost every object with eyes different, as it were, from 
 a common observer. One who is in tin- habit of exa- 
 mining the structure of plants, and conversant with a 
 system of botany, will discover a number of distin- 
 guishing characteristics of a flower, for instance, which 
 remain wholly unnoticed by one unacquainted with 
 that science. It is from this same reason, that even in 
 common life, a person who is in the habit of drawing, 
 especially from Nature, will easily perceive many cir- 
 cumstances which are commonly overlooked, and form 
 a much more correct impression even of such objects, 
 as he does not stop to examine minutely, than one who 
 has never been taught to look upon what he sees with 
 
 * Both these gentlemen have since published several works, the first 
 in German, and the second in French, with illustrations. Their principle?, 
 which were first applied hi the Pestalozzian Schools, are now very 
 generally adopted in the best schools of Germany and France ; and their 
 woiks, especially that of Uamsaucr, would well deserve a translation in 
 English. The superiority of their method has been generally acknow- 
 ledged by the Englishmen who hare seen it practised in the Pestalozzian 
 Institutions.
 
 102 
 
 an intention to re-produce a likeness of it. The atten- 
 tion to the exact shape of the whole, and the proportion 
 of the parts, which is requisite for the taking of an 
 adequate sketch, is converted into a habit, and becomes, 
 in many cases, productive of much instruction and 
 amusement. 
 
 In order to attain this habit, it is very material, and 
 almost indispensable, that children should not be 
 confined to copying from another drawing, but from 
 Nature. The impression which the object itself gives, 
 is so much more striking than its appearance in an 
 imitation; it gives a child much more pleasure to be 
 able to exercise his skill in attempting a likeness of 
 what surrounds him, and of what he is interested in, 
 than in labouring at a copy of what is but a copy itself, 
 and has less of life or interest in its appearance. 
 
 It is likewise much easier to give an idea of the im- 
 portant subject of light and shade, and of the first 
 principles of perspective, as far as they influence the 
 representation of every object, by placing it immedi- 
 ately before the eye. The assistance which is given 
 should by no means extend to a direction in the exe- 
 cution of every detail ; 'but something should be left to 
 the ingenuity, something also to patience and perse- 
 verance: an advantage that has been found out after 
 some fruitless attempts, is not easily forgotten; it gives 
 much satisfaction and encouragement to new efforts ; 
 and the joy on the ultimate success derives a zest from 
 previous disappointment. 
 
 Next to the exercises of drawing, come those of 
 modelling, in whatever materials may be most conve- 
 niently employed. This is frequently productive o*
 
 103 
 
 even more amusement. Even where there is no 
 distinguished mechanical talent, the pleasure of being 
 able to do something at least, is, with many, a sufficient 
 excitement : and both drawing and modelling, if 
 taught on principles which are founded in nature, will 
 be of the greatest use when the pupils are to enter upon 
 other branches of instruction. 
 
 Of these I shall here only mention two geometry 
 and geography. The preparatory exercises by which 
 we have introduced a course of geometry, present an 
 analysis of the various combhiatipns under which the 
 elements of form are brought together, and of which 
 every figure or diagram consists. These elements are 
 already familiar to the pupil who has been taught to 
 consider an object with a view to decompose it into its 
 original parts, and to draw them separately. The 
 pupil o course will not be a stranger to the materials, 
 of which he is now to be taught the combinations and 
 proportions. It must be easier to understand the pro- 
 perties of a circle, for instance, or of a square, for one 
 who has not only met with these figures occasionally, 
 but who is already acquainted with the manner in 
 which they are formed. Besides, the doctrine of 
 geometrical solids, which cannot in any degree be satis- 
 factorily taught without illustrative models, is much 
 better understood, and much deeper impressed on the 
 mind, when the pupils have some idea of the construc- 
 tion of the models, and when they are able to work 
 out at least those which are less complicated.* 
 
 Different sets of models, such as Pestalozzi alludes to, are sold by 
 Mr. Larkin,Gee Strict, Somcrstown. It will be found useful to let the pupils 
 imitate them, on rather a larger scale, in chalk, or in (bin paste-board.
 
 104 
 
 In geography, the drawing of outline maps is an 
 exercise which ought not to be neglected in any school. 
 It gives the most accurate idea of the proportional 
 extent, and the general position, of the different coun- 
 tries ; it conveys a more distinct notion than any 
 description, and it leaves the most permanent impres- 
 sion on the memory. 

 
 105 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 5, 1819. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 To the courses of exercises winch I have recom- 
 mended, I anticipate that an objection will be raised, 
 which it is necessary for me to meet, before I proceed 
 to speak of intellectual education. 
 
 Granting that these exercises may be, as the phrase 
 is, useful in their way ; granting even, that it might be 
 desirable to see some of the knowledge they are 
 intended to convey, diffused among all classes of 
 society ; yet where, it will be asked, and by what 
 means can they be expected to become general 
 among any other than the higher classes? There you 
 may expect to find mothers competent, if at all inclined, 
 to undertake the superintendence of such exercises 
 with their children. But, considering the present state 
 of things, is it not absolutely chimerical to imagine, 
 that among the people mothers should be found, who 
 were qualified to do anything for their children in 
 that direction? 
 
 To this objection I would answer, in the first place, 
 that it is not always legitimate to conclude from the
 
 106 
 
 present state of things to the future ; and whenever, as 
 in the case before us, the present state of things can be 
 proved to be faulty, and at the same time capable of 
 improvement, every friend of humanity will concur 
 with me in saying, that such a conclusion is inad- 
 missible. 
 
 It is inadmissible ; for experience speaks against it. 
 The page of history, to a thinking observer, presents 
 mankind labouring under the influence of a chain of 
 prejudice, of which the links are successively broken. 
 
 The most interesting events in history are but the 
 consummation of things which had been #efcmed impos- 
 sible. It is in vain to assign limits to the improvements 
 of ingenu ity ; but it is still more so, to circumscribe tlfe 
 exertions of benevolence. 
 
 Such a conclusion, then, is inadmissible. And 
 history speaks more directly to the point. The most 
 consequential facts plead in favour of our wishes and 
 our hopes. The most enlightened, the most active 
 philanthropists, two thousand years ago, could not have 
 foreseen the change that has taken place in the intel- 
 lectual world : they could not have anticipated those 
 iFacilities, by which not only the research of a few is 
 encouraged, but by which the practical results 
 of that research are, with wonderful rapidity, com- 
 municated to thousands in the remotest countries of 
 the globe. They could riot have foreseen the glorious 
 invention, by which ignorance and superstition have 
 been driven out of their strong hold, and knowledge 
 and truth diffused in the most universal and the 
 most effective channels. They couM not have foreseen,
 
 that a spirit of enquiry wuulii be excited 
 among those who had formerly been doomed to blind 
 belief, and to passive obedience. 
 
 In lend, it there is one feature by which this present 
 age bids lair to redeem its character, and to heal the 
 wounds which it has inflicted on the guttering nations* 
 it is this, that we see efforts making in every direction, 
 with a zeal, and to an extent hitherto unparalleled, to 
 assist the people in acquiring that portion of intellec- 
 tual independency, without which the true dignity of 
 the human character cannot be maintained, nor its 
 duties adequately fuliilled. There is something BO 
 cheering in the prospect of seeing the numl>er of those 
 for whom it id destined, extending with the range of 
 knowledge itself, that there is scarcely a field left, of 
 which men of superior talent have not undertaken to 
 cull the flowers, and to store the fruits for those who 
 liave uot time or faculty to toil at the elements, or 
 follow up the refinements of science ; and the stilt 
 more material object, to facilitate the first steps, to lay 
 the foundation, to ensure the slow but solid progress, 
 and to do this in the manner best adapted to the wature 
 of tlte human mind, and to the development of its facul- 
 ties : this object has been pursued with an interest 
 and an ardour, that even the results which I havesee*! in 
 my own immediate neighbourhood are a sullicienf. 
 pledge, that the pursuit will not be abandoned, and 
 that it is not uow far from its ultimate *ec#se. 
 
 This prospect is cheering: but, my^lear fiitad, it is 
 not upon this prospect that I have built the hopes of 
 my life. It is not the diffusion of knowledge,
 
 108 
 
 it be grudgingly doled out in schools on the old plan, 
 or more liberally supplied in establishments on a new 
 principle, or submitted to the examination, and laid open 
 for the improvement of the adults ; it is not the diffu- 
 sion of knowledge alone to which I look up for the 
 welfare of this, or of any generation. No : unless we 
 succeed in giving a new impulse, and raising the tone 
 of DOMESTIC EDUCATION; unless an atmosphere of 
 sympathy, elevated by moral and religious feeling, be 
 diffused there; unless maternal love be rendered more 
 instrumental in early education, than any other agent ; 
 unless mothers will consent to follow the call of their 
 own better feelings more readily than those of pleasure 
 or of thoughtless habit; unless they will consent to be 
 mothers, and to act as mothers unless such be the 
 character of education, all our hopes and exertions can 
 end only in disappointment. 
 
 Those have indeed widely mistaken the meaning of 
 all my plans, and of those of my friends, who suppose 
 that incur labours for popular education, we have 
 not an higher end in view, than the improvement of a 
 system of instruction, or the perfection, as it were, of 
 the gymnastics of the intellect. We have been busily 
 engaged in reforming the schools, for we consider 
 them as essential in the progress of education : but we 
 consider the fireside circle as far more essential. We 
 have done all in our power to bring up children with 
 a view to become teachers, and we have every reason 
 to congratulate the schools that were benefitted by 
 this plan: but we have thought it the most important 
 feature, and the first duty of our own schools, and of 
 every school, to develope in the pupils confided to our
 
 109 
 
 care those feelings, and to store their minds with that 
 knowledge, which, at a more advanced period of life, 
 may enable them to give all their heart, and the 
 unwearied use of their powers, to the diffusion of the 
 true spirit which should prevail in a domestic circle. 
 In short, whoever has the welfare of the rising gene- 
 ration at heart, cannot do better than consider as his 
 highest object, the EDUCATION or MOTHERS. 
 
 

 
 110 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 MARCH 15, 1819. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 LET me repeat, that we cannot expect any real 
 improvement in education, and improvement that shall 
 be felt throughout an extensive sphere, and that shall 
 continue to spread in the progress of time, increasing in 
 vigour as itproceeds, wecannotexpectany improvement 
 of that character, unless we begin by educating mothers. 
 It is their duty, inthedomestic circle, to do what school 
 instruction has not the means of accomplishing ; to give 
 to every individual child that degree of attention, which 
 in a school is absorbed in the management of the whole; 
 to let their heart speak in cases where the heart is the 
 best judge; to gain by affection, what authority could 
 never have commanded . 
 
 But it is their duty also to turn all the stock of their 
 knowledge to account, and to let their children have the 
 benefit of it. 
 
 I am aware that, under the present circumstances, 
 many mothers would either declare themselves, or would 
 be looked upon by others, as incompetent to attempt any 
 such thing ; as so poor in knowledge, arid so unpractised 
 in communicating knowledge, that such an undertaking 
 on their part would appear as vain and presumptuous.
 
 Ill 
 
 Now this is a fact, which, as far ns experience go*s,1 
 am bound to deny. 1 am r>ot now speaking of those 
 classes, or individuals, whose education has boen, if not 
 very diligently, .at least in some measure at tended to. I 
 have now in view a mother, whose education lias, from 
 some circumstances or other, been totally neglected. I 
 will suppose one, who is even ignorant of reading 
 and writing, though in no country in 1 which the 
 schools are in a proper state you would meet with an 
 individual deficient in this respect I will add, a young 
 and unexperienced mother. 
 
 Now I will venture to say, that this poor, and wholly 
 ignorant, this young and unexperienced mother, is not 
 gut/e deslitule of the meaus of assisting evt-u in the 
 intellectual development of her child. 
 
 However small may be the stock of her experieoce, 
 however moderate her own faculties, she must be 
 aware, tliat she is acquainted with an infinite number 
 of facts, such, we will say, as they occur in common 
 life, to which her infant is yet a stranger. She must 
 IK- aware that it will be useful to the infant to become 
 soon acquainted with some of them, such, for instance, 
 as refer to things with which it is likely to come into 
 contact. She must feel herself able to give her child 
 the possession of a variety of names, simply by bring- 
 ing the objects themselves before the child, pronouncing 
 the names, and .making the child repeat them. She 
 must feel herself able to bring such objects before the 
 child in a sort of natural order the different parts, for 
 instance, of a fruit. Let no one despise these things, 
 because they are little. There was a time when we 
 were ignorant even of the least of them ; and there are
 
 t.hose to whom we have reason to be thankful for 
 teaching us these little things. 
 
 But I do not mean to say, that a mother should stop 
 there. Even the mother of whom we are speaking, that 
 wholly ignorant and unexperienced mother, is capable 
 of going much farther, and of adding a variety of 
 knowledge which is really useful. After she has ex- 
 hausted the stock of objects which presented themselves 
 first, after the child has acquired the names of them, 
 and is able to distinguish their parts, it may probably 
 occur to her, that something more might still be said 
 on every one of these objects. She will find herself 
 able to describe them to the child with regard to form, 
 size, colour, softness or hardness of the outside, sound 
 when touched, and so on. She has now gained a 
 material point; from the mere knowledge of the names 
 of objects, she has led the infant to a knowledge of their 
 qualities and properties. Nothing can be more natural 
 for her than to go on and compare different objects with 
 regard to these qualities, and the greater or smaller 
 degree in which they belong to the objects. If the former 
 exercises were adapted to cultivate the memory, these 
 are calculated to form the observation and judgment. 
 She may still go much farther: she is able to tell her 
 child the reasons of things, and the causes of facts. 
 She is able to inform it of the origin, and the duration, 
 and the consequences of a variery of objects. The 
 occurrences of every day, and of every hour, will furnish 
 her with materials for this sort of instruction. Its use 
 is evident; it teaches the child to inquire after the 
 causes, and accustoms it to think of the consequences 
 of things. I shall have an opportunity in another place
 
 113 
 
 TO >|-;ik of moral and religious instruction; I will 
 therefore only remark, in a few words, that this lasb- 
 muntioned class of exercises, which may be varied and 
 extended in an almost endless series, will give frequent 
 occasion for the simplest illustration of truths belonging 1 
 to that branch. It will make the child reflect on the 
 consequences of actions ; it will render the mind fami- 
 liar with thought; and it will frequently lead to 
 recognise, in the objects IK- fore the child, the effects 
 of the infinite wisdom of that Being, whom, long 
 before, the piety of the mother, if genuine, must have 
 led him to revere, and to love " with all his heart, 
 and with all his soul, and with all his strength, and 
 with all his mind." 
 
 I am afraid that the enumeration of these first essays 
 of a mother will be found tedious by other readers 
 than yourself, whom 1 have never seen weary of 
 watching nature, and drawing instruction from the 
 inexhaustible spring of experience. I think that we 
 sympathise on this subject, that we feel greater interest 
 in the unsophisticated consciousness of a pure intention, 
 than in the most splendid exhibition of refinement of 
 knowledge. 
 
 And 1 know not a motive, which might render 
 those efforts more interesting, than the desire of a 
 mother to do all in her power for the mental as well 
 as the physical and moral development of her chil- 
 dren. However circumscribed her means, and how- 
 ever limited at first may be her success, still there is 
 something that will and must prompt her not to rest, 
 that will stimulate her to new efforts, and that will at 
 Q
 
 114 
 
 last crown them with fruits which are the morr 
 gratifying, the more they were difficult to obtain. 
 
 Experience has shown, that mothers, in that seem- 
 ingly forlorn situation which I have described, have 
 succeeded beyond their own expectation. I look 
 upon this as a new proof for (he fact, that nothing 
 is too difficult for maternal love, animated by a con- 
 sciousness of its purity, and elevated by a confidence 
 in the power of Him who has inspired the mother's 
 heart with that feeling. I do indeed consider it as 
 a free gift of the Creator, and I firmly believe, that 
 in the same measure as maternal love is ardent and 
 indefatigable, in the same measure as it is inspired 
 with energy, and enhanced by faith, I firmly believe, 
 that in the same measure maternal love will be 
 strengthened in its exertions, and supplied with means, 
 even where it appears most destitute. 
 
 Though, as I have shown above, it is by no means 
 so difficult to direct the attention of children to 
 useful objects, yet nothing is more common than 
 the complaint, " 1 can do nothing with children." 
 If this comes from an individual who is not called 
 upon by his peculiar situation to occupy himself 
 with education, it is but fair to suppose, that he will 
 be able to make himself more useful in another 
 direction, than he could have done by a laborious 
 and persevering application to a task, for which he 
 is neither predisposed by inclination, nor fitted by 
 eminent talent. But those words should never come 
 from a mother. A mother ?> called upon to give 
 her attention to that subject. It is her duty to do
 
 116 
 
 so; the voice of conscience in her own breasf will 
 tell her that it is; and the consciousness of a duty 
 does never exist without the qualification to fulfil 
 it; nor has a duty ever been undertaken with the 
 spirit of courage, of confidence, of love, that has not 
 been ultimately crowned with success.
 
 IK* 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 MARCH 20, 181&. 
 
 Mv DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IF ever an uneducated and totally unassisted mother 
 has it in her power to do so much for her child, how 
 much better qualified must she be, and how much 
 more confidently may she look forward to the results 
 of her maternal exertions, if her faculties have been 
 properly developed, and her steps guided by the 
 experience of those who had engaged in that work 
 before her. 
 
 The fact, therefore, which 1 stated in my last letter, 
 far from rendering my proposition questionable, goes 
 directly to confirm its validity, and to illustrate its 
 expediency. I therefore repeat it, and I would address 
 it in the strongest language to all those who, like 
 myself, are desirous of bringing about a change in our 
 present insufficient system of education. If you really 
 wish to embark with your facilities, your time, your 
 talents, your influence, in a cause likely to benefit a 
 large portion of j^our species if you wish not to be 
 busy in suggesting palliatives, but in effecting a per- 
 manent cure of the evils under which thousands have 
 sunk, and hundreds of thousands are still suffering ; if
 
 you wis'.i not merely to erect an edifice, that may 
 attract by its splendour, and commemorate your name 
 f<>r awhile, but \vhicb shall pass awav like " tbo la-e- 
 less fabric of a vision;" if, on the contrary, you 
 prefer solid improvement to momentary effect, and the 
 lasting benefit of main-, to the solitary gratification of 
 striking results ; let not your attention be diverted by 
 the apparent wants let it not be totally engrossed by 
 the subordinate ones but let. it at once be directed to 
 the great and general, though little known source from 
 which good or evil flows in quantity incalculable, and 
 rapidity unparallelled to the manner in which the 
 earliest years of childhood are passed, and to the edu- 
 cation of those to whose care they are, or ought to be 
 consigned. 
 
 Of all institutions, the most useful, is one in which 
 the great business of education is not merely made a 
 means subservient to the various purposes of ordinary 
 life, but in which it is viewed as an object in itself 
 deserving of the most serious attention, and to be 
 brought to the highest perfection; n school, in which 
 the pupils are taught to act as teacher?, and educated 
 to act as educators ; a school, above all, in which the 
 FEMALE CHARACTER is at an early period developed 
 in that direction, which enables it to take so prominent 
 a part in early education. 
 
 To effect this, it is necessary that the female character 
 should be thoroughly understood and adequately 
 appreciated. And on this subject, nothing can give a 
 more satisfactory illustration, than the observation of 
 a mother, who is conscious of her duties, and qualified 
 to fulfil them. In such a mother, the moral dignity of
 
 118 
 
 her character, the suavity of her manners, and the firm- 
 ness of her principles, will not more command our 
 admiration, than the happy mixture of judgment and 
 feeling, which constitutes the simple, but unerring 
 standard of her actions. 
 
 It is the great problem in female education, to effect 
 this happy union in the mind, which is equally far from 
 imposing any restraint on the feelings, as it is from 
 warping or biassing the judgment. The marked 
 preponderance of feeling, which is manifested in the 
 female character, requires not only the most clear- 
 sighted, but also the kindest attention, from those who 
 wish to bring it into harmony with the development of 
 th,e faculties of the intellect and the will. 
 
 It is a mere prejudice to suppose, that the acquire- 
 ment of knowledge, and the cultivation of the intellect, 
 must either not be solid and comprehensive, or that 
 they are apt to take away from the female character 
 its simplicity, and all that renders, it truly amiable. 
 Every thing depends on the motive from which, and 
 I he spirit in which, knowledge is acquired. Let that 
 motive be one that does honour to human nature, and 
 let that spirit be the same which is concomitant to all 
 the graces of the female character, 
 
 " Not obvious, not obtrusive, bvit retired," 
 
 and there will be modesty to ensure solidity of know- 
 l^dge, and delicacy to guard against the misdirection 
 of sentiment. 
 
 For an example, I might refer to one of the numerou* 
 instances, which are not the less striking, because they 
 are not extensively known, in which a mother has
 
 110 
 
 devoted much of her time, and best abilities, to the 
 acquirement of some branches of knowledge, in which 
 her own education had been defective, but which she 
 conceived to be valuable enough to be brought forward 
 in the education of her own children. This has been 
 the case with individuals highly accomplished in many 
 respects, but still alive to every defect, and desirous of 
 supplying it, if not for their own, at least for the 
 benefit of their children. 
 
 And no mother has ever been known to have 
 repented of any pains that she took to qualify herself 
 for the most perfect education of those nearest and 
 dearest to her heart. Even without anticipating the 
 future accomplishment of her wishes, by their progress 
 in the path in which she has undertaken to guide them, 
 she is amply repaid by the delight immediately arising 
 from the task, 
 
 " To rear (be tender thought, 
 
 And teach the young idea how to shoot." 
 
 I have here supposed the most powerful motive, that 
 of maternal love ; but it will be the task of early educa- 
 cation to supply motives, which even at a tender age 
 may excite an interest in mental exertion, and yet be 
 allied to the best feelings of human nature.
 
 120 
 
 LETTER XXV I II. 
 
 M AKCH 27, 1819. 
 
 M.y DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IF a mother is desirous of taking an active part in 
 the intellectual education of her children, I would 
 first direct her attention to the necessity of considering, 
 not only what sort of knowledge, but in what manner 
 that knowledge should be communicated to the infant 
 mind. For her purpose, the latter consideration is even 
 more essential than the former; for., however excellent 
 the information may be, which she wishes to impart, 
 it will depend on the mode of her doing it, whether 
 it will at all gain access to the mind, or whether it will 
 remain unprofitable, neither suiting the faculties, nor 
 being apt to excite the interest of the child. 
 
 In this respect, a mother should be able perfectly 
 to distinguish between the mere action of the memory, 
 and that of the other faculties of the mind. 
 
 To the want of this distinction I think we may 
 safely ascribe much of the waste of time, and the 
 deceptive exhibition of apparent knowledge, which is 
 so frequent in schools, both of a higher and of lower 
 character. It is a mere fallacy, to conclude, or to 
 pretend, that knowledge has been acquired, from the 
 circumstance, that terms have been committed to the
 
 121 
 
 memory, which, if rightly understood, convey tho 
 expression of knowledge. This condition, if rightly 
 understood, which is the most material, is the most 
 generally overlooked. No doubt, a proceeding of this 
 sort, when words are committed to the memory, 
 without an adequate explanation being either given 
 or required, is the most commodious system for the 
 indolence or ignorance of those who practise upon it 
 as a system of instruction. Add to which, the powerful 
 stimulus of vanity in the pupils, the hope of dis- 
 tinction and reward in some, the fear of exposure 
 or punishment in others, and we shall have the prin- 
 cipal motives before us, owing to which this system, in 
 spite of its wretchedness, has so long been patronized 
 by those who do not think at all, and tolerated by those 
 who do not sufficiently think for themselves. 
 
 What I have said just now, of the exercise of the 
 memory, exclusive of a well-regulated exercise of the 
 understanding, applies more especially to the manner in 
 which the dead languages have long been, and in some 
 places still are, taught ; a system, of which, taking it all 
 in all, with its abstruse and unintelligible rules, and its 
 compulsive discipline, it is difficult to say whether it is 
 more absurd in an intellectual, or more detestable in a 
 moral point of view.* 
 
 "The boasted liberty we talk of, is but a mean reward for the Ion- 
 servitude, the many heart-aches and terrors to which our childhood is 
 exposed in going through a grammar school." Spectator^ Vol. II. 
 No. 157. 
 
 On this subject, sec Locke on Education, 163177, p. 243274. 
 
 Lord Karnet .- " In teaching a language it is the universal practice to 
 brgin with grammar, <md to do every thing by rule. 1 affirm this o be 
 R
 
 122 
 
 If such a system, enforcing the partial exercise of the 
 memory, is so absurd in its application, and so detri- 
 mental in its consequences, at a period when the 
 intellect may be supposed to be able to make some 
 progress at least, without being so constantly and 
 anxiously attended to ; an exclusive cultivation of the 
 memory must be still more misapplied at the tender age 
 when the intellect is only just dawning, when the faculty 
 of discerning- is yet unformed, and unable to consign 
 to the memory the notions of separate objects in their 
 distinction from each other. For a mother to guard 
 against an error of this kind, the first rule is, to leach 
 always by THINGS, rather than by WORDS. Let 
 there be as few objects as possible named to the infant, 
 unless you are prepared to show the objects themselves. 
 
 a most preposterous method. Grammar is contrived for men, not for 
 children. Its natural place is between langaage and logic : it ought 
 to close lectures on the former, and to be the first lectures on the latter. 
 It is a gross deception, that a language cannot be taught without rules. 
 A boy who is flogged into grammar-rules, makes a shift to apply them ; 
 but he applies them by rote like a parrot. Boys, for the knowledge 
 they acquire of a language, are not indebted to dry rules, but to 
 practice and "observation. To this day I never think without shud- 
 dering of Disputer's grammar, which u-as my daily persecution during 
 Hie most important period of life. Curiosity, when I was farther 
 advanced in years, prompted me to look at a book that had given me 
 so much trouble. At this time I understood the rules perfectly ; and 
 was astonished that formerly they bad been to us words without meaning, 
 which I had been taught to apply mechanically, without knowing how 
 or why. Deplorable it is, that young creatures should be so punished 
 .without being guilty of any fault more than sufficient to produce a 
 disgust at learning, instead of promoting it. Whence then ihis 
 absurdity of persecuting boys with grammar rules ?" &c.Zo<we Hints on 
 Education. ix. p. 279.
 
 123 
 
 If this is the case, the name will be committed to 
 the memory, together with the recollection of the 
 impression which the object produced on the senses. 
 It is an old saying, and a very true one, that our 
 attention is much more forcibly attracted, and more 
 permanently fixed, by objects which have been brought 
 before our eyes, than by others, of which we have; 
 merely gathered some notion from hearsay and descrip- 
 tion, or from the mention of a name. 
 
 JUit if a mother is to teach by THINGS, she must 
 recollect also, that to the formation of an idea, more is 
 requisite, than the bringing the object before the senses. 
 Its qualities must be explained; its origin must be 
 accounted for; its parts must be described, and their 
 relation to the whole ascertained ; its use, its effects or 
 consequences, must be stated. All this must be done, 
 at least, in a manner sufficiently clear and compre- 
 hensive to enable the child to distinguish the object 
 from other objects, and to account for the distinc- 
 tion which is made. 
 
 It is natural, that the degree of perfection, with 
 which the formation of ideas on this plan can be 
 facilitated, depends upon circumstances, which are not 
 always under the controul of a mother ; but something 
 of the kind should be attempted, and must be, 
 wherever education is intended to take a higher 
 character than mere mechanical training of the 
 memory. 
 
 Of objects which cannot be brought before the 
 
 child in reality, pictures should be introduced. An 
 
 instruction founded on pictures will always be found 
 
 a favorite branch with children, and if this curiosity is 
 
 R2
 
 124 
 
 well directed, and judiciously satisfied, it will prove 
 one of the most useful and instructive. 
 
 Whenever the knowledge of an abstract idea, which 
 will not of course admit of any representation of that 
 kind, is to be communicated to the child, on the same 
 principle an equivalent of that representation should be 
 given by an exemplification, through the medium of a 
 fact laid before the child. This is the original intention, 
 and the use of moral tales ; and this, too, agrees with 
 the excellent old adage, " that the way by precept is 
 long and laborious, that by example short and easy."
 
 125 
 
 LF.TTF.R XXIX. 
 
 APRIL 4, 1619. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVKS, 
 
 THE second rule that I would give to a mother, 
 respecting the early development of the infant mind, is 
 this: Let the child not only be acted npint, but let him 
 be an aycnt in intellectual education. 
 
 1 shall expain my meaning: Let the mother bear in 
 mind, that her child has not only the faculties of atten- 
 tion to, and retention of, certain ideas or facts, but also 
 a faculty of reflection, independent of the thoughts of 
 others. It is well done to make a child read, and 
 write, and learn, and repeat, but it is still better to 
 make a child THINK. \Ve may be able to turn to 
 account the opinions of others, and we may find it 
 valuable or advantageous to be acquainted with them : 
 we may profit by their light; but we can render 
 ourselves most useful to others, and we shall be entitled 
 to the character of valuable members of society, by the 
 efforts of our own mind ; by the result of our own 
 investigations ; by those views, and their application, 
 * which we may call our intellectual property. 
 
 I am not now speaking of those leading ideas, which 
 are from time to time thrown out, and by which
 
 126 
 
 science is advanced,or society benefitted at large. I am 
 speaking of that stock of intellectual property, which 
 every one, even the most unpretending individual, and 
 in the humblest walks of life, may acquire. I am 
 speaking of that habit of reflection, which guards 
 against unthinking conduct under any circumstances, 
 and which is always active to examine that which is 
 brought before the mind ; that habit of reflection, which 
 excludes the self-sufficiency of ignorance, or the levity 
 of "a little learning;" which may lead an individual 
 to the modest acknowledgment, that he knows but 
 little, and to the honest consciousness that he knows 
 that little well. To engender this habit, nothing is so 
 effective, as an early development, in the infant mind, 
 of thought, regular, self-active thought. 
 
 Let not the mother suffer herself to be detained 
 from this task, by the objections of those who deem 
 the infant mind altogether incapable of any exertion 
 of that kind. I will venture to say, that those who 
 propose that objection, though they may be the pro- 
 foundest thinkers, or the greatest theorists, will be 
 found to have no practical knowledge whatsoever of 
 the subject, nor any moral interest in the investigation 
 of it. And I, for one, would trust more in the ex- 
 perimental knowledge of a mother, proceeding from 
 exertions to which she was prompted by maternal 
 feeling in that experimental knowledge, even of an 
 illiterate mother, I would trust more, than in the theo- 
 retical speculations of the most ingenious philosophers. 
 There are cases, in which sound sense, and a warm 
 heart, sees farther than a highly refined, cold, and 
 calculating head.
 
 127 
 
 I would therefore call upon the mother to begin her 
 task, in spite of any objections that may be raised. 
 It will be enough if she is persuaded to begin ; she 
 will then continue of herself; she will derive such 
 gratification from her task, that she will never think of 
 relaxing. 
 
 While she unfolds the treasures of the infant mind, 
 and uncloses the world of hitherto slumbering thought, 
 she will not envy the assurance of philosophers, who 
 would have the human mind to be an " universal 
 blank." Engaged in a task, which calls into activity 
 all the energies of her mind, and all the affections of 
 her heart, she will smile at their dictatorial specula- 
 tions, and their supercilious theories. Without troubling 
 herself about the knotty question, whether there are 
 any innate ideas, she will be content if she succeeds in 
 developing the innate faculties of the mind. 
 
 If a mother asks for the designation of the subjects 
 which might be profitably used as vehicles for the 
 development of thought, I would answer her, that 
 any subject will do, if it be treated in a manner suit- 
 able to the faculties of the chjld. It is the great art 
 in teaching, never to be at a loss for the choice of an 
 object for the illustration of a truth. There is not an 
 object so trivial, that in the hands of a skilful teacher 
 might not become interesting, if not from its own 
 nature, at least from the mode of treating it. To a 
 child every thing is new. The charm of novelty, it is 
 true, soon wears off ; and if there is not the fastidious- 
 ness of matured years, there is at least the impatience 
 of infancy to contend with. But then there is for the. 
 teacher the great advantage of a combination of simple 
 elements, which may diversify the subject without 
 dividing the attention.
 
 128 
 
 If I say, that any subject will do for the purpose, 
 1 mean this to be understood literally. Not only 
 there is not one of the little incidents in the life of a 
 child, in his amusements and recreations, in his rela- 
 tions to his parents and friends and playfellows, but 
 there is not actually any thing within the reach of the 
 child's attention, whether it belong to nature, or to 
 the employments and arts of life, that might not be 
 made the object of a lesson, by which some useful 
 knowledge might be imparted, and, which is still 
 more important, by which the child might be fami- 
 liarised with the habit of thinking on what he sees, 
 and speaking after he has thought. 
 
 The mode of doing this, is not by any means to 
 talk much to a child, but to enter into conversation 
 with a child; not to address to him many words, how- 
 ever familiar or well chosen, but to bring him to 
 express himself on the subject ; not to exhaust the 
 subject, but to question the child about it, and to let 
 him find out, and correct, the answers. It would be 
 ridiculous to expect, that the volatile spirits of an 
 infant could be brought to follow any lengthy expla- 
 nations. The attention of a child is deadened by long 
 expositions, but roused by animated questions. 
 
 Let these questions be short, clear, and intelligible. 
 Let them not merely lead the child to repeat, in the 
 same, or in varied terms, what he has heard just 
 before. Let them excite him to observe what is before 
 him, to recollect what he has learned, and to muster his 
 little stock of knowledge for materials for an answer. 
 Show him a certain quality in one thing, and let him find 
 out the same in others. Tell him, that the shape of a
 
 136 
 
 ball is called round ; and if, accordingly, you bring him to 
 point out other objects to which the same predicament 
 belongs,you have employed him more usefully than by 
 the most perfect discourse on rotundity. In the one 
 instance he would have had to listen, and to recollect; 
 in the other, he has to observe, and to think.
 
 130 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 APRIL 10, 1819. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 WHEN I recommend to a mother to avoid wearying 
 a child by her instructions, I do not wish to encourage 
 the notioi^ that instruction should always take the 
 character of an amusement, or even of a play. I am 
 convinced, that such a notion, where it is entertained 
 and acted upon by a teacher, will for ever preclude 
 solidity of knowledge, and from a want of sufficient 
 -exertions on the part of the pupils, will lead to that very 
 result which I wish to avoid by my principle of a 
 constant employment of the thinking powers. 
 
 A child must very early in life be taught a lesson, 
 "which frequently comes too late, and is then a most 
 painful one, that exertion is indispensable for the 
 attainment of knowledge. But.) child should not be 
 taught to look upon exertion as an unavoidable evil. 
 The motive of fear should not be made a stimulus to 
 exertion. It will destroy the interest, and will speedily 
 create disgust. 
 
 This interest in study, is the first thing which a 
 
 teacher, and in the instances before us, which a mother 
 
 should endeavour to excite and keep alive. There are
 
 13) 
 
 carcely any circumstances, in which a want of appli- 
 cation in children does not proceed* from a want of 
 interest; and there are perhaps none, under which a 
 want of interest does not originate in the mode of treat- 
 ing adopted by the teacher. I would go as far as to lay 
 it down fora rule, that whenever children are inattentive, 
 and apparently take no interest in a lesson, the teacher 
 should always first look to himself for the reason. 
 When a quantity of dry matter is before a child, when a 
 child is doomed to listen in silence to lengthy explana- 
 tions, or to go through exercises which have nothing 
 in themselves to relieve or attract the mind ; this is a 
 Uix upon his .spirits, which a teacher should make it a 
 point to abstain from imposing. In the same manner, 
 if the child, from the imperfection of his reasoning 
 powers, or his unacquaintancc with facts, is unable to 
 enter into the sense, or to follow the chain of ideas in a 
 lesson ; when he is made to hear, or to repeat, what to 
 him is but "sound without sense;" this is perfectly 
 absurd. And when to all this the fear of punishment 
 is added, besides the tedium, which in itself is 
 punishment enough, this becomes absolutely cruel. 
 
 Of all tyrants, it is well known that little tyrants are 
 the most cruel ; and of all little tyrants, the most cruel 
 are $chool tyrants. Now, in all civilized countries, 
 cruelty of every description is forbidden, and ereiv 
 cruelty to animals is very properly punished, in some 
 by the law of the land, and in all stigmatised by public 
 opinion. How then comes CRUELTY TO CHILDREN 
 to be so generally overlooked, or rather thought a 
 matter of course ? 
 
 Some, forsooth, will tell us, that their own measure* 
 s2
 
 132 
 
 are wonderfully humane, that their punishments are 
 less severe, or that they have done away with corporal 
 punishments. But it is not to the severity of them that 
 I object nor would I venture to assert, in an unqualified 
 manner, that corporal punishments are inadmissible, 
 under any circumstances in education. But I do 
 object to their application 1 do object to the principle, 
 that the children are punished, when the master) or the 
 system, is to blame. 
 
 As long as this shall continue, as long as teachers 
 will not take the trouble, or will not be found qualified, 
 to inspire their pupils with a living interest in their 
 studies they must not complain of the want of atten- 
 tion, nor even of the aversion to instruction, which 
 some of them may manifest. Could we witness the 
 indescribable tedium which must oppress the juvenile 
 mind, while the weary hours are slowly passing away, 
 one by one, in an occupation which they can neither 
 relish, nor understand its use; could we remember the 
 same scenes which our own childhood has undergone, 
 we would then no longer be surprised at the remissness 
 of the school-boy, " creeping, like snail, unwillingly to 
 school." 
 
 la saying this, I do not mean to make myself the 
 advocate of idleness, or of those irregularities which 
 will now and then be met with even in the best con- 
 ducted schools. But I would suggest, that the best 
 means to prevent them from becoming general, is, to 
 adopt a better mode of instruction, by which the 
 children are less left to themselves, less thrown upon 
 the unwelcome employment of passive listening, less 
 harshly treated for little and excusable failings, but
 
 133 
 
 more roused by questions, animated by illustrations, 
 interested and won by kindness. 
 
 There is a most remarkable reciprocal action between 
 the interest which the teacher takes, and that which 
 he communicates to his pupils. If he is not with his 
 whole mind present at the subject; if he does not care 
 whether it is understood or not, whether his manner is 
 liked or not, he will never fail of alienating the affections 
 of his pupHs, and of rendering them indifferent to what 
 he says. But real interest taken in the task of instruc- 
 tion kind words, and kinder feelings the very 
 expression of the features, and the glance of the eye, 
 are never lost upon children.
 
 134 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 ArRit 17, 1819. 
 
 MY DEAR GHEAVES, 
 
 You are aware of the nature of those exercises 
 which were adopted at my suggestion, as calculated to 
 employ the mind usefully, and to prepare it for further 
 pursuits, by eliciting thought, and forming the intellect. 
 
 I would call them preparatory exercises, in more 
 than one respect. They embrace the elements of 
 number, form, and language; and whatever ideas we 
 may have to acquire in the course of our life, they are 
 all introduced through the medium of one of these 
 three departments. 
 
 The relations and proportions of number and form, 
 constitute the natural measure of all those impressions 
 which the mind receives from without. They are the 
 measures, and comprehend the qualities, of the material 
 world; form being the measure of space, and number 
 the measure of time. Two or more objects, distin- 
 guished from each other, as existing separately in 
 space, pre-suppose an idea of their forms, or in other 
 words, of the exact space which they occupy ; distin- 
 guished from each other as existing at different times, 
 they come under the denomination of number.
 
 135 
 
 The reason why I would so early call the attention 
 of children to the elements of number and form, is> 
 besides their general usefulness, that they admit of a 
 most perspicuous treatment a treatment, of course, 
 far different from that in which they are but too often 
 involved, and rendered utterly unpalatable to those 
 who are by no means deficient in abilities. 
 
 The elements of Number, or preparatory exercises 
 of Calculation, should always be taught, by submitting 
 to the eye of the child certain objects representing 
 the units. A child can conceive the idea of two balls, 
 two roses, two books ; but it cannot conceive the idea 
 of " Two" in the abstract. How would you make 
 the child understand, that two and two make four, 
 unl.'ss you show it to him first in reality? To begin 
 by abstract notions, is absurd and detrimental, instead 
 of being conducive. The result is, at best, that the 
 child can do the thing, by rote without understand- 
 ing it; a fact, which does not reflect on the child, 
 but on the teacher, who knows not a higher character 
 of instruction, than mere mechanical training. 
 
 If the elements are thus clearly and intelligibly 
 taught, it will always be easy to go on to more 
 difficult parts, remembering always, that the whole 
 should be done by questions. As soon as you have 
 given to the child a knowledge of the names by which 
 the numbers are distinguished, you may appeal on it, 
 to answer any question of simple addition, or sub- 
 traction, or multiplication, or division, performing 
 the operation in reality, by means of a certain number 
 of objects, balls for instance, which will serve in the 
 place of units.
 
 im 
 
 It has been objected, that children who had been 
 used to a constant and palpable exemplification of the 
 units, by which they were enabled to execute the 
 solution of arithmetical questions, would never be;, 
 able afterwards to follow the problems of calculation 
 in the abstract, their balls, or other representatives, 
 being taken from them. 
 
 Now, experience has shown, that those very 
 children, who had acquired the first elements in the 
 palpable and familiar method described, had two great 
 advantages over others. First, they were perfectly 
 aware, not only what they were doing, but also of the 
 reason why. They were acquainted with the prin- 
 ciple on which the solution depended; they were 
 not merely following a formula, by rote; the state of 
 the question changed, they were not puzzled, as those 
 are, who see only as far as their mechanical rule goes, 
 and not farther. This, while it produced confidence, 
 and a feeling of safety, gave them also much delight 
 a difficulty overcome, with a consciousness of a 
 felicitous effort, always prompts to the undertaking of a 
 new one. 
 
 The second advantage was, that children well versed 
 in those illustrative elementary exercises, afterwards 
 displayed great skill in head-calculation (calcul de 
 tete). Without repairing to their slate, or paper, 
 wrthout making any memorandum of figures, they not 
 only performed operations with large numbers, but 
 they arranged and solved questions, which at first might 
 fiave appeared involved, even had the assistance of 
 memorandums, or an execution on paper, been allowed. 
 
 Of the numerous travellers of your nation, who did
 
 137 
 
 me the honour to visit my establishment, there was 
 none, however little he might be disposed or qualified 
 to enter into a consideration of the whole of my plan t 
 who did not express his astonishment at the perfect 
 ease, and the quickness, with which arithmetical 
 problems, such as the visitors used to propose, were 
 solved. I do not mention this, and I did not then feel 
 any peculiar satisfaction, on account of the display 
 with which it was connected, though the acknowledg- 
 ment of strangers can by no means be indilTerent to 
 one who wishes to see his plan judged of by its results. 
 But the reason why I felt much interested and gratified 
 by the impression which that department of the school 
 invariably produced, was, that it singularly confirmed 
 the fitness and utility of our elementary course. It 
 went a great way, at least, with me, to make me hold 
 fast the principle, that the infant mind should be acted 
 upon by illustrations taken from reality, not by rules 
 taken from abstraction ; that we ought to teach by 
 TIIINGS more than by WORDS. 
 
 In the exercises concerning the elements of form, 
 my friends have most successfully revived and extended 
 what the ancients called the analytical method the 
 mode of eliciting facts by problems, instead of stating 
 them in theories ; of elucidating the origin of them, 
 instead of merely commenting on their existence ; of 
 leading the mind to invent, instead of resting satisfied 
 with the inventions of others. So truly beneficial, BO 
 stimulating is that employment to the mind, that we 
 have learned fully to appreciate the principle of Plato, 
 that whoever wished to apply with success to Meta- 
 physics, ought to prepare himself by the study of 
 x
 
 138 
 
 'Geometry, it is not the acquaintance with certain 
 qualities or proportions, of certain forms and figures, 
 {though, for many purposes, this is applicable in prac- 
 tical life, and conducive to the advancement of science,) 
 but it is the precision of reasoning, and the ingenuity 
 of invention, which, springing as it does from a fami- 
 liarity with those exercises, qualifies the intellect for 
 exertion of every kind. 
 
 In exercises of number and form, less abstraction is 
 at first required, .than in similar ones in language. But 
 1 would insist on the necessity of a careful instruction 
 in the maternal language. Of foreign tongues, or of the 
 dead languages, I think that they ought to be studied, 
 by all means, by those to whom a knowledge of them 
 may become useful, or who are so circumstanced, that 
 they may indulge a predilection for them, if their 
 taste or habits lead that way. But I know not of one 
 single exception that I would make of the principle, 
 that, as early as possible, a child should be led to 
 contract an intimate acquaintance with, and make 
 himself perfectly master of, his native tongue. 
 
 Charles the Fifth used to say, that as many lan- 
 guages as a man possessed, sp often was he man. 
 How far this may be true, I will not now inquire : 
 but thus much I know to be a fact, that the mind is 
 deprived of its first instrument or organ, as it were, 
 that its functions are interrupted, and its ideas con- 
 fused, when there is a want of perfect acquaintance 
 and mastery of at least one language. The friends of 
 oppression, of darkness, of prejudice, cannot do better, 
 nor have they at any time neglected the point, than to 
 stifle the power and facility of free, manly, and well-
 
 T3D 
 
 practised speaking; nor can the friends of light and 
 liberty do better, and it were desirable that they were 
 more assiduous in the cause, than to procure to every 
 one, to the poorest as well as to the richest, a facility,, 
 if not of elegance, at least of frankness and energy of 
 speech a facility, which would enable them to collect 
 and clear up their vague ideas, to embody those which 
 arc distinct, and which would awaken a thousand new 
 ones.* 
 
 It I. ,ul IK-HI ihc intention of the Editor to subjoin a concise ar.count 
 of those exercises, which I'I-TMO/./.I li.ts Imt alluded to in the last 
 Letter*. He is aware, that the statem- ills m.nlr in them, will not in 
 any way In- sulKcicnl, for readers wholly un;iri|u;iiulc<l with the subject,' 
 
 .MI adequate idea of what constitutes a very prominent feature in 
 the Pettalozzian system. Ji'lie Editor, however, finding llial, in order to 
 <|uju,ni-c to the snbjccj, he woulj be obliged to enter into a greater 
 number of detail*, than the \:\ .m :i'.d -i/e f the present publication 
 woulJ conveniently admit, bogs to refer once more to a little work,. 
 which ho h.is ficq lently alluded to, as by far the most useful and 
 distinguished performance, in English, connected with PESTALOZZl's 
 views, 'lite "Hints to Pan in*" contain the mo.st excellent nrinual ol 
 exercises on number, form, and language, drawn up, as they profess to 
 Itf , " in PKiTALorzi's spirit." The merit of that little work, and the 
 practical applicability of the plan which it details, have met with so general 
 ackno\vledgnients on the part of those who have followed that plan in 
 the education of their own children, that the Editor is confident, that 
 all those who feel disposed to give their attention to them, will find 
 the greatest satisfaction in perusing, and availing tl.uiibdves of the 
 Hiuts to Parent*."
 
 140 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 APRIL 25, 1819. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 NEED I point out to you the motive from which 
 I have said thus much on the early attention to be paid 
 to physical and intellectual education ? Need t remind 
 you, that I consider these branches merely as leading 
 to an higher aim, to qualify the human being to the 
 free and full use of all the faculties implanted by the 
 Creator, and to direct all these faculties towards the 
 perfection of the whole being of man, that he may be 
 enabled to act, in his peculiar station, as an instrument 
 of that all-wise and almighty Power, that has called 
 him into life. This is the view, which Education 
 should lead an individual to take of his relation to 
 his Maker, a view, which will at once give him 
 humility to acknowledge the jmperfection of his 
 attempts, and the weakness of his power and inspire 
 him with the courage of an unshaken confidence in the 
 source of all that is good and true. 
 
 In relation to society, man should be qualified by 
 education to be a useful member of it. In order to be 
 truly useful, it is necessary that he should be truly 
 independent. Whether that independence may arise
 
 141 
 
 from his circumstances, or whether it be acquired by 
 tin- 'Honourable use of his talents, or whether it be owing 
 to more laborious exertion and frugal habit?, it is clear, 
 that true independence must rife and fall with the 
 dignity of his moral character, rather than with affluent 
 circumstances, or intellectual superiority, or indefati- 
 gable exertion. A state of bondage, or of self-merited 
 poverty, is not more degrading, than a state of depend- 
 ence on considerations which betray littleness of mind, 
 or want, of moral energy, or of honourable feeling. An 
 individual, whose actions bear the stamp of independ- 
 ence of mind, cannot but be an useful, as well as an 
 esteemed member of society. He fills up a certain 
 place in society, belonging to himself and to no other, 
 because he lias obtained it by merit, and secured it by 
 character. His talents, his time, his opportunities, or 
 his influence, are all given to a certain end. And even 
 in the humbler walks of life, it has always been acknow- 
 ledged, that there were individuals, who by the intel- 
 ligent, the frank, the honourable character of their 
 demeanour, and by the meritorious tendency of their 
 exertions, deserved to be mentioned together with those 
 whose names were illustrated by the halo of noble birth, 
 and by the still brighter glory of genius or merit. 
 That such instances are but exceptions, and that these 
 exceptions are so few, is owing to the system of educa- 
 tion which generally prevails, and which is little 
 calculated to promote independence of character. 
 
 Considering man as an individual, education should 
 contribute in giving him happiness. The feeling of 
 happiness does notarise from exterior circumstances; 
 it is a state of the mind, a consciousness of harmony
 
 142 
 
 noth with the inward and the outward world : it assigns 
 their due limits to the desires, and it proposes the 
 highest aim to the faculties of man. For happy is he, 
 who can bring his desires within the measure of his 
 means, and who can resign to every individual and 
 selfish wish, without giving up his content and repose, 
 whose feeling of general satisfaction is not dependent 
 on individual gratification. And happy again is he, 
 who, whenever self is out of the question, and the 
 higher perfection of his better nature, or the best 
 interests of his race, are at stake, happy is he, who 
 then knows of no limits to his efforts, and who can 
 bring them to keep pace with his most sanguine hopes ! 
 The sphere of happiness is unbounded, it is extending 
 as the views are enlarged ; it is elevated as the feelings 
 of the heart are raised, it "grows with their growth, 
 and strengthens with their strength." 
 
 In order to give the character described here to the 
 actions and to the life of an individual, I consider it as 
 necessary, that all the faculties implanted in human 
 nature, should be properly developed. It is not, that 
 virtuosity ought to be attained in any direction, or 
 that a degree of excellence ought to be anxiously 
 aspired to, wh ich is the exclusive privilege of pre-eminent 
 talent. But there is a degree of development of all the 
 faculties, which is far from the refinement of any; and 
 of such a course the great advantage will be, to pre- 
 pare the mind for a more especial application to any 
 line of studies congenial to its inclination, or connected 
 with certain pursuits.* 
 
 * What Locke has said more generally of education, is strictly 
 applicable to a course of exercises such as have been alluded to in
 
 AVith regard to the claim which every liuraan being 
 has to a judicious development of his faculties by 
 those to whom the care of his infancy is confided, a 
 claim of which the universality does not seem to be 
 sufficiently acknowledged, allow me to make use of 
 an illustration, which was on one occasion proposed 
 by one of my friends. Whenever we find a human 
 being in a state of suffering, and near to the awful 
 moment which is forever to close the scene of his pains 
 and his enjoyments in this world, we feel ourselves 
 moved by a sympathy, which reminds us, that however 
 low his earthly condition, here too there is one of our 
 race, subject to the same sensations of alternate joy 
 and grief, born with the same faculties, with the 
 same destination, and the same hopes for a life of 
 immortality. And as we give ourselves up to that 
 idea, we would fain if we could alleviate his sufferings, 
 and shed a ray of light on the darkness of his parting 
 moments. This is a feeling which will come home to 
 the heart of every one, even to the young and the 
 thoughtless, and to those little used to the sight of woe. 
 Why then, we would ask, do we look with a careless 
 indifference on those who enter life? why do we 
 feel so little interest in the feelings, and in the 
 condition of those who enter upon that varied scene, 
 
 the foregoing pages: "The business of education, in respect of know, 
 ledge, it not to perfect the learner in all or any one of th sciences; 
 but to give his mind that disposition, and those habits, that may enable 
 him to attain any part of knowledge be shall stand in need of in the 
 future course of hit* life. 1 '
 
 144 
 
 of which, if we would but stop to reflect, we 
 might contribute to enhance the enjoyments, and to 
 diminish the sum of suffering, of discontent, and 
 wretchedness? And that education might do that, 
 is the conviction of all those, who are competent to 
 speak from experience. That it ojight to do as much, 
 is the persuasion, and that it may once accomplish it, 
 is the constant endeavour of all those, who are truly 
 interested in the welfare of mankind.
 
 II.'. 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 MAY 1, 1819. 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 IN my last letter I described the end of education 
 to be, to render man conscientiously active in the 
 service of his Maker; to render him useful, by render- 
 ing him independent, with relation to society; and, 
 as an individual, to render him happy within himself. 
 
 To this end I conceive that the formation of the 
 intellect, the attainment of useful knowledge, and the 
 development of all the faculties, may be made instru- 
 mental. But though they will be found highly service- 
 able as furnishing the means, they will not supply 
 the spring of action. It would be preposterous, no 
 doubt, to provide for the facilities of execution, with- 
 out exciting the motives of a certain plan or line of 
 conduct. 
 
 Of this fault, the process which frequently goes by 
 the name of education, and which might more appro- 
 priately be denominated a mechanical training, is 
 often guilty. The common motive, by which such 
 a system acts on those over whose indolence it has 
 conquered, is Fear; the very highest to which it 
 can aspire, in those whose sensibility is excited, is 
 Ambition. u
 
 146 
 
 It is obvious that such a system can calculate only 
 on the lower selfishness of man. To that least ami- 
 able or estimable part of the human character, it is, 
 and always has been, indebted for its best success. 
 Upon the better feelings of man it turns a deaf ear. 
 
 How is it then, that motives, leading to a course 
 of action which is looked upon as mean and despicable, 
 or at best as doubtful, when it occurs in life how is 
 it, that motives of that description aYe thought honour- 
 able in education? Why should that bias be given 
 to the mind in a school, which, to gain the respect or 
 the affection of others, an individual must first of all 
 strive to unlearn ? a bias, to which every candid mind 
 is a stranger. 
 
 1 do not wish to speak harshly of ambition, or to 
 reject it altogether as a motive. There is, to be sure, 
 a noble ambition dignified by its object, and distin- 
 guished by a deep and transcendent interest in that 
 object. But if we consider the sort of ambition 
 commonly proposed to the school-boy if we analyse 
 " what stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born," we 
 shall find that it has nothing to do with the interest 
 taken in the object of study ; that such an interest 
 frequently does not exist; and that, owing to its 
 being blended with that vilest and meanest of motives, 
 with ,/ear, it is by no means raised by the wish to 
 give pleasure to those who propose it; for a teacher, 
 who proceeds on a system in which fear and ambition 
 are the principal agents, must give up his claim to the 
 esteem or affection of his pupils. 
 
 Motives like fear, or inordinate ambition, may 
 stimulate to exertion, intellectual or physical, but
 
 147 
 
 they cannot warm the heart. There is not in them 
 that life which makes the heart of youth to heave 
 \\ith the delight of knowledge with the honest 
 consciousness of talent with the honourable wish for 
 distinction with the kindly glow of genuine feeling. 
 Such motives are inadequate in their source, and inef- 
 ticiont in tlu-ir application, for they are nothing to the 
 heart, and '* out of the heart are the issues of life." 
 
 On these grounds it is, that in moral as well as 
 intellectual education, I have urged the supreme 
 character of the motive of sympathy, as the one that 
 should early, and indeed principally, be employed in 
 the management of children. On these grounds I 
 have repeatedly urged the propriety of attending to 
 that fcciinu, which I have no hesitation in declaring 
 to be the first feeling of an higher nature that is alive 
 in the child the feeling, in the infant, of love and 
 confidence in the mother. Upon this feeling I wish to 
 ground the first foundation and on a feeling analo- 
 gous to it, and springing from it, I wi>h to guide the 
 future steps of education. 
 
 That, in the infant, that feeling exists, there can be 
 no doubt. We have for it the testimony of those who 
 are most competent to judge, because best enabled to 
 sympathise with it, of the mothers. 
 
 To the mothers, therefore, I would again and again 
 address the request, to let themselves be governed by 
 their maternal feelings, enlightened by thought, in 
 guiding those rising impressions, in developing that 
 tender germ in the infant's heart. 'J Vy will find, that 
 at first, it is yet involved in the animal nature of the 
 infant; that it is an innate feeling, strong, because not 
 u2
 
 148 
 
 yet under the controul of reason, and filling the whole 
 mind, because not yet opposed by the impulse of 
 conflicting passions. That feeling, let them believe, 
 has been implanted by the Creator. But together 
 with it, there exists in the infant that instinctive 
 impulse of its animal nature, which is first made sub- 
 servient to self-preservation, and directed towards the 
 satifaction of natural and necessary wants ; which is 
 next bent on gratification ; which, unless it be checked 
 in time, runs out into a thousand imaginary and arti- 
 ficial wants; which would hurry us from enjoyment 
 to enjoyment, and which would end in consummate 
 selfishness. 
 
 To controul, and to break this selfish impulse, the 
 best, the only course is, for the mother to strengthen 
 daily that better impulse, which so soon gives her the 
 pledge, by the first smile on the lips, the first glance 
 of affection in the eye of the infant, that though the 
 powers of the intellect are yet slumbering, she may 
 soon speak a language intelligible to the heart. She 
 will be enabled, by affection, and by firmness, to bring 
 her child to give up those cravings which render it so 
 unamiable, and to give them up for her, the mother's, 
 sake. By what means she can make herself under- 
 stood how she can supply the want of words and of 
 precepts I shall not undertake to answer for her : but 
 let a mother answer, whether, conscious as she is of 
 her own love for her child, a love enhanced by a 
 feeling of duty, and enlightened by reflection, she 
 will not, without either words or precepts, be able to 
 find the way to the heart and the affection of her 
 infant.
 
 149 
 
 But if the mother lias succeeded in this, let her 
 not fancy that she has done every thing. The lime 
 will come, when the hitherto speechless emotions of 
 the infant Will find a language when his eye will 
 wandt r from the mother to other individuals within 
 the sphere that surrounds him and when that sphere 
 itself will be extended. His affections must then no 
 longer rest concentrated in one object, and that object, 
 though the dearest and kindest of mortals, yet a mor- 
 tal, and liable to those imperfections which " our flesh 
 is heir to." The affections of the child are claimed 
 by higher objects, and indeed by the highest. 
 
 Maternal love is the first agent in education; but 
 maternal love, though the purest of human feelings, is 
 human; and salvation is not of the power of man, but 
 of the power of God. Let not the mother fancy, that 
 she, of her own power, and with her best intentions, 
 can raise the child's heart and mind beyond the sphere 
 of earthly and perishable things. It is not for her to 
 presume, that her instructions, or her example, will 
 benefit the child, unless they be calculated to lead the 
 child to that faith, and to that love, from which alone 
 salvation springs. 
 
 The love, and confidence of the infant in the mother, 
 is but the adumbration of a purer, of the purest and 
 highest feeling which can take up its abode in a mortal 
 breast of a feeling of love and faith, now no more 
 confined to an individual now no more mixed with 
 " baser matter," but rising superior to all other 
 emotions, and elevating man by teaching him humility, 
 the feeling of love and faith in his Creator, and his 
 Redeemer.
 
 150 
 
 In this spirit, let education be considered in all its 
 stages; let the physical faculties be developed, but 
 without forgetting, that they form the lower series of 
 human nature; let the intellect be enlightened, but 
 let it be remembered, that the first science, which 
 thought and knowledge should teach, is modesty, and 
 moderation; let the discipline be regulated, and the 
 heart be formed, not by coercion, but by sympathy, 
 not by precept, but by practice; and, above all, le( 
 it be prepared for that influence from above, which 
 alone can restore the image of God in man.
 
 149 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 MAT 12, 1819. 
 
 MY DEAR GREAVES, 
 
 BEFORE I conclude, I wish to say a few words more 
 but ou a subject of the most vital importance. 
 A few words will suffice for those with whom we can 
 sympathize, and others have seldom, if ever, been 
 brought to agree by the most elaborate discussion. 
 
 i wish that no Christian mother may lay down this 
 volume, without asking herself seriously, " Is the 
 course, and are the measures recommended in these 
 letters, in unison with principles truly Christian? Are 
 they calculated merely to promote intellectual attain- 
 ments, or to produce an appearance of self-made and 
 self-styled morality ? or, are they such as deserve the 
 names of the first and preparatory steps to Christian 
 Education ?" 
 
 Let her answer this question to herself, to the best of 
 her knowledge and her feelings, and upon the result 
 let it depend whether she will adopt them, with such 
 modifications as experience or circumstances will 
 suggest, in the education of her children. If her 
 answer be in the negative ; if her heart should give
 
 152 
 
 her warning, and matured reflection confirm it, that 
 these principles are not Christian, then let them be 
 rejected, and be mentioned no more. 
 
 In the mean time allow me to subjoin a few remarks 
 on the leading principles of Christianity, on that dis- 
 tinguishing characteristic which rendered it "UNTO 
 
 THE JEWS A STUMBLING BLOCK, AND UNTO THE 
 
 GREEKS FOOLISHNESS ;" but to all those who believe, 
 "A POWER OF GOD UNTO SALVATION," and which will 
 eventually make it to " COVER THE EARTH AS THE 
 WATERS COVER THE DEEP." They are the remarks 
 of an attentive observer, but of one who would fain 
 let his heart speak, when his intellect might fail of 
 guiding him safely, or his acquired knowledge of 
 bearing him out. I hope that they shall satisfy, among 
 all denominations of Christians, those who hold the 
 Scriptures higher than any human comment ; the word 
 of God higher than any human authority ; and who 
 would rather have its spirit live in the heart, and be 
 visibly manifested in all the actions of outward life, than 
 see the letter of any particular tenets maintained with 
 severity, and inculcated with violence. 
 
 The highest aim of the nations of the ancient world 
 was national power and greatness ; their religions 
 could not give them an higher principle than one of 
 selfishness, more or less refined. 
 
 There was, however, one exception, which 
 formed the most striking contrast to it the Mosaic 
 dispensation. This religion urged strongly the weak- 
 ness of the creature, and the infinite power of the 
 Almighty; the strictness of the law, and the incapa- 
 bility of man to fulfil it ; the trespassing of the guilty,
 
 153 
 
 and the sanctity of the judge. Though it may appear 
 nt first a religion only of the law, and of terror, 
 and of outward expiations, yet it was a religion also of 
 faith. There were those "OF WHOM THE WORLD 
 WAS MOT WORTHY," whose eyes were opened; 
 who were inspired by the Spirit that " SEARCHETH 
 
 ALL THINGS, YEA, THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD," 
 
 who saw deeper than " the types and shadows of the 
 ceremonial law," whose faith was strong enough to 
 offer up, with the patriarch, the sum of their earthly 
 hopes, to the divine will, and to speak with the 
 Psalmist, "LORD, THOUGH THOU SLAY ME, YET WILL 
 
 I TRUST IN THEE." 
 
 In the Christian dispensation, this principle of faith 
 was preserved, as " THE SUBSTANCE OF THINGS 
 
 HOPED FOR, THE EVIDENCE OP THINGS NOT SEEN." 
 
 But it was intimately united with the active principle 
 of love. 
 
 The Christian doctrine, distant alike from encou- 
 raging the self-sufficiency of the Heathen world, and 
 from holding out the terrors of the Mosaic law, taught 
 man to look up to his Maker, not as to his Judge only, 
 but also as to his Redeemer. The dreams of supreme 
 power, by which one nation courted the absolute sway 
 of the world, had vanished away ; the monuments of 
 their splendour fell into ruins together with the altars 
 of their Gods; the high purposes, too, for which 
 Providence had singled out from among the rest, the 
 humbler tribes of one country, were accomplished, 
 and Sion was no more the dwelling of the Most High, 
 nor the point of tfnion of all the faithful ; and Christ- 
 ianity was hailed by all those whose love was warm,
 
 154 
 
 and whose faith was strong enough to trust and to 
 delight in its ultimate destination, as the religion of 
 mankind. As such, Christianity has destroyed those 
 barriers by which man had presumed to shut out his 
 brother from the access to truth; it has invited all, 
 the high and the low, to meet on one ground, a ground 
 infinitely above the distinctions of rank, or wealth, or 
 knowledge; and their meeting on that ground was 
 not so much to be considered as a concession on the 
 one side, or as a vindication of right on the oLher, but 
 rather as the unanimous desire to embrace the free 
 gift of God proffered to all. In this spirit, without 
 disturbing their foundations, Christianity has raised 
 the character of the social institutions; has animated 
 individuals to stand forward, and, with the boldness 
 of truth, but with the meekness of love, to plead the 
 cause of their brothers ; has urged some to bear her 
 light, to unfold her standard in distant regions, and 
 others to proclaim among those invested with power, 
 her unequivocal claims, and thus to propose that great 
 work, in the accomplishment of which subsequent 
 ages may rejoice, and see 
 
 " At the voice of the Gospel of Peace, 
 The sorrows of Africa cease ; 
 And the Slave and his Master devoutly unite 
 To walk in HER freedom, and dwell in HER light." 
 
 For the ultimate destination of Christianity, such 
 as it is revealed in the sacred volume, and manifested 
 in the page of history, 1 cannot find a more appro- 
 priate expression, than to say, that its object is, to 
 accomplish the education of mankind. Destined to
 
 155 
 
 elevate all, it would soothe the sorrows of each ; and 
 however different the abilities, and the circumstances, 
 all are to partake of " THAT ONE AND THE SELF- 
 SAME SPIRIT, DIVIDING TO EVERY MAN SEVERALLY 
 AS HE WILL." 
 
 If we look upon Christianity, as we are indeed fully 
 justified in doing, as the scheme adopted by Infinite 
 Wisdom to consummate the great end of the education 
 of mankind, we may, from the contemplation of the 
 means employed, deduce an unerring standard for all 
 efforts of our own. We may, at the same time, be 
 confirmed in the conviction, that Christianity is not a 
 privilege confined to those only vho, by any peculiar 
 talents, or knowledge, or exertions, might appear better 
 qualified to receive it than others, but that it is a gill 
 freely tendered to all, though deserved by none; 
 adapted not to one condition of life, but to the 
 fallen state of human nature to that struggle of the 
 flesh against the spirit that strange mixture of 
 contradictionsof conceited knowledge and of aversion 
 to light when man presumes, in puny strength, to 
 work out his own salvation ; when with his eye 
 intent, and his heart entranced by thecharm of perishable 
 things, he yet imagines to fathom the depths of truth, 
 and to climb the bright summit of happiness, or when, 
 in more gloomy vision,his affections centered all in self, 
 he is led to proclaim truth a phantom, and love an 
 empty sound when, by turns, he flies from the turmoil 
 of life to a world of dreams, and from tlie endless maze 
 of solitary speculation, to the dissipations of life when 
 
 "HE SAYS, PEACE PEACE WHERE THERE IS NO 
 PEACE !"
 
 156 
 
 Among the passages of the sacred vol ume, which 
 throw most light on the state of mind which is best 
 fitted for the reception of Christian truth, I have always 
 considered as one of the most illustrative, these words of 
 the Saviour "WHOSOEVER SHALL NOT RECEIVE THE 
 
 KINGDOM OP GOD AS A LITTLE CHILD, SHALL IN NO 
 
 WISE ENTER THEREIN." What can there be in " a little 
 child,'* deserving to be compared with a state of readi- 
 ness for the* Christian faith ? It cannot be an effort of 
 morality, or an attempt at high perfection; for the 
 infant is incapable of any. It cannot be any degree 
 of knowledge, or intellectual refinement ; for the infant 
 is a stranger to both. What, then, can it be, except 
 that feeling of love and confidence, of which the mother 
 is for a time the first and only object ? That feeling is 
 analogous in its nature and agency to the state of 
 mind described by the name of faith. It does not 
 rest on a conviction of the understanding but it is more 
 convincing than any syllogism could have been. Not 
 being founded on it, it cannot be injured by reasoning ; 
 it has to do with the heart only. It is prior to the 
 developement of all other faculties : if we ask for its 
 origin, we can only say, that it is instinctive; or if w r e 
 mean to resolve an unmeaning expression into the truth, 
 it is a gift of Him who has called into life all the hosts 
 of the creation in whom " WE LIVE AND MOVE, AND 
 
 HAVE OUR BEING." 
 
 Analogous to that emotion, like it imparted by the 
 Giver of all that is good, is the state of mind of those 
 
 Who " BELIEVE TO THE SAVING OF THE SOUL." 
 
 Though infinitely elevated above it, it yet partakes in like 
 manner of the nature of a feeling,as well as a conviction;
 
 157 
 
 arising from both, it is invested with that energy, which 
 brings forth fruits of love; it proves that true faith is 
 kindred in its nature to active love, and that "HE 
 
 THAT LOVETII NOT, KNOWETH NOT GOD; FOR GOD IS 
 LOVE.'* 
 
 That emotion in the infant mind, that adumbration 
 of faith, and of love, can be dearer to none than to a 
 Christian Mother. Let her be convinced that there is only 
 one way for her to manifest her maternal affection and 
 that way is, to watch over the gift of God to her child- 
 to be thankful to the Giver, and hoping that from Him, 
 may come the increase, to do all in her power to 
 unfold the germ; to be mild and firm, and persevering 
 in the task ; to look to her own heart for a motive, and 
 to heaven for the blessing. 
 
 Happy the mother who thus leads her children to 
 faith, and from faith to love, and from love to happiness. 
 And thrice happy she, who has before her eyes, in her 
 task, the recollection of one who, in genuine and unas- 
 suming piety, watched over the dream of her infant 
 years an example that, stronger than any precept, 
 strong as the voice of maternal love in her own breast, 
 calls upon her "to remember; to resemble; to 
 persevere!" 
 
 THE END.
 
 JUST PUBLISHED, 
 
 HINTS TO PARENTS. --In the Spirit of Pestaloisi's 
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 Pestalozzi's Schriften. 15 vol. Stutlg. 1820 26. 5. 
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 Pestalozzi, Wochenschrift fur Menschen Bildung. 1810. 
 Pestalozzi an die Unschuld, den Ernst, und den Edelmuth 
 
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 Nageli, Auszugder Gesangbildungs Lehre. Zurich, 1815. 
 
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 Von Turk, Briefe uber Pestalozzi und seine Methode. 
 
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