Parallel Chart for the Younger Classes

Year.	Biblical History.		Greece.		Rome.
1400
1300	Exodus.		Troy?
1200	Samson.
1100	Samson.
1000	David.
900			Homer?
800			Lycurgus?		Rome.
700					Rome.
600	Nebuchadnezzar.		Solon.
500	Belshazzar. Temple rebuilt. Esther.	Cyr Dar Xer	us. Pisistratus. ius. xes. Miltiades. Themistocles.		Expulsion of Kings.
400			Pericles. Socrates. Epaminondas.		The Gauls.
300			Alexander. (Ptolemies.)	(Pyrr	hus.)
200	(Maccabees.)	(Antio	chus.)	(Philip of Poly	1st Punic War. Macedon. Hannibal.) bius.
					Corinth. Carthage.
100			(Cleopatra.)		-	Cicero. Pompey. Julius Cæsar.
A.D.	Herod the Great. Birth of Christ.				Augustus.

At the beginning of Course B, Column I. (except the names in brackets) will be marked on the chart. Column II. as far as Alexander to be filled in during Course B. Column III. and the brackets of Columns I. and II. to be filled in during Course C.

Time-maps

By Dorothea Beale.

The practice of representing to the eye by means of diagrams the facts of science, physical and social, is becoming more common: we have jagged lines indicating fluctuations in the winds or in the stocks. In an American record which has been sent to me, there are coloured squares representing the thousands of children who are regular in their attendance at school, black squares standing for the defaulting thousands. By such means we can see at a glance what the mind finds it difficult otherwise to realise; it furnishes a framework into which we can fit anything we wish to locate.

Historical Charts.

It is hardly necessary to say that for any orderly study of history it is necessary to have some scheme into which we may fit the subjects of study. As well might we expect by learning latitude and longitude to understand the position of places on the earth’s surface, as by learning dates to get a clear idea of the relative position of events in time. We want some form of map which will represent the events to the eye. Many excellent charts have been drawn up giving us parallel histories, but the great difficulty is their prodigious size. Time is one-dimensional, and if we give a small linear space to a century, and try to represent a few thousand years, the mind fails to grasp the picture; if the scale of the different periods varies, the proportion is wrong. For this reason rivers and trees of time, etc., have been more or less failures; they are useful and interesting, but the objection is, that they are either too large and detailed to be carried in the memory, or that the landmarks are too slight. The Méthode Mnémonique Polonaise, which is much used in France, was introduced to my notice, and first used by me at Queen’s College: it has the great advantage of compactness—it is in form like a geographical map. It can be adapted to various purposes, but I shall dwell now on its applications as a record of time, and show the different ways in which it can be used by little children, though it is equally well adapted for Tom Brown at Oxford (who seems to have used it) and for the mature student of history. It may be made for little ones into a system of object-lessons, or hieroglyphics, if you will, which appeal to the child’s imagination and help him to realise something of the proportion of things, and whilst looking at the world, as each of us must, from our own “pin-point,” yet see life in relation to the lives of others. It is compact; it shows at a glance the relations of events. We can have a world-map and give only the great landmarks, or we may by a map of large proportions work out to any degree of detail a short period. The plan is to make a square of ten represent a century, and each horizontal line a decade. Thus:—

0	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9
10	11	12	13	14	15	16	17	18	19
20	21	22	23	24	25	26	27	28	29
30	31	32	33	34	35	36	37	38	39
40	41	42	43	44	45	46	47	48	49
50	51	52	53	54	55	56	57	58	59
60	61	62	63	64	65	66	67	68	69
70	71	72	73	74	75	76	77	78	79
80	81	82	83	84	85	86	87	88	89
90	91	92	93	94	95	96	97	98	99

It will at once be seen that all the numbers in the first line of a century are units, in the second tens, in the third twenties, and so on; whilst, if we look down the vertical line, all the numbers in the first row end with nought, in the second with one, and so on. The thick line is intended to help the eye; we have forty and fifty on each side of the horizontal thick line, four and five on each side of the vertical. A few minutes’ practice will generally enable the pupil to read off numbers rapidly from a blank square. He will then have to learn the position of the marks in any century, as he would learn the geography of a country, or the shape of a constellation. Take, for example, the English history of the fourteenth century. We mark Edward II., in 1307; Edward III., in 1327; Richard II., 1377; Henry IV., 1399. The dates need not be learned; we have the picture of the century in our mind and can read off the square.

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

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

KEY TO SIXTEENTH CENTURY CHART.

1500. Columbus prisoner. Jubilee.	1501.	1502.	1503. Julius II.	1504.	1505.	1506.	1507.	1508.	1509. Henry VIII.
1510.	1511.	1512.	1513. Flodden. Leo X.	1514.	1515. Francis I.	1516.	1517.	1518.	1519. Charles V.
1520. Soleyman.	1521. Diet of Worms.	1522.	1523.	1524.	1525. Prussia. Teutonic Order secularised.	1526. Baber.	1527.	1528.	1529.
1530. Death of Wolsey.	1531.	1532.	1533. Anne Boleyn.	1534.	1535. Fisher and More executed.	1536. Anne Boleyn beheaded. Jane Seymour.	1537.	1538.	1539.
1540. Jesuits. Anne of Cleves. Cath. Howard.	1541.	1542. Cath. Howard beheaded.	1543. Catharine. Parr.	1544.	1545. Council of Trent.	1546.	1547. Edward VI. Henry II.	1548.	1549.

KEY TO SIXTEENTH CENTURY CHART.

1550.	1551.	1552.	1553. Mary Spenser born.	1554.	1555. Persecutions.	1556. Cranmer.	1557.	1558. Elizabeth. Ferdinand I.	1559. Francis II.
1560. Charles IX.	1561.	1562.	1563. Guise assass.	1564. Max. II. Shakspere born.	1565.	1566.	1567.	1568.	1569.
1570.	1571.	1572. Massacre of St. Bartholomew.	1573.	1574. Henry II.	1575.	1576. Rudolph II.	1577.	1578.	1579.
1580.	1581.	1582.	1583.	1584. Orange assass.	1585.	1586.	1587. Mary Queen of Scots beheaded.	1588. Armada.	1589. Henry IV.
1590. Faerie Queene, 3 books.	1591.	1592.	1593. Shakspere’s Poems.	1594. Hooker’s Eccles. Polity.	1595.	1596.	1597. Bacon’s Essays. Shakspere’s first Play.	1598. Edict of Nantes.	1599.

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

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

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

1st	2nd	3rd	4th	5th
Christianity	Good Emperors	Military Despotism	Constantine	Fall of Rome
6th	7th	8th	9th	10th
Barbaric Wars	Mahomet	Charlemagne	Alfred	Feudalism
11th	12th	13th	14th	15th
Hildebrand	Crusades	Schoolmen	Rise of Middle-class	Renaissance
16th	17th	18th	19th	20th
Reformation	Religious Wars	Political Wars	Revolution

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

99	98	97	96	95	94	93	92	91	90
89	88	87	86	85	84	83	82	81	80
79	78	77	76	75	74	73	72	71	70
69	68	67	66	65	64	63	62	61	60
59	58	57	56	55	54	53	52	51	50
49	48	47	46	45	44	43	42	41	40
39	38	37	36	35	34	33	32	31	30
29	28	27	26	25	24	23	22	21	20
19	18	17	16	15	14	13	12	11	10
9	8	7	6	5	4	3	2	1	0

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

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

1820	1821	1822	1823	1824	1825	1826	1827	1828	1829
1830
									1899

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

1837. The Queen’s Accession. 1838. First Electric Telegraph.

1840. Queen’s Marriage—Penny Postage. 1841. Birth of Prince of Wales. 1842. Capture of Shanghai. 1846. Repeal of the Corn Laws. 1848. Death of Lord Melbourne—Chartist Revolt.

1850. Death of Wordsworth and Sir Robert Peel. 1851. First Great Exhibition. 1852. Death of the Duke of Wellington. 1854. Crimean War. 1857. Indian Mutiny.

1860. Death of Lord Aberdeen. 1861. Death of the Prince Consort. 1863. Prince of Wales’ Marriage. 1864. Birth of the Duke of Clarence. 1865. Birth of the Duke of York—Death of Lord Palmerston. 1869. Death of Lord Derby.

1871. Disestablishment of the Irish Church. 1876. Queen Proclaimed Empress of India. 1878. Death of Lord John Russell. 1879. Zulu War.

1880. Lord Roberts’ Relief of Candahar. 1881. Death of Lord Beaconsfield. 1884. Soudan War. 1885. Death of Gordon—Bible Revised. 1887. Queen’s Jubilee. 1889. Death of Browning.

1892. Death of Duke of Clarence. 1893. Marriage of Duke of York—Death of Tennyson—Home Rule Bill Rejected. 1894. Birth of Prince Edward. 1896. Jameson’s Raid. 1897. Queen’s Diamond Jubilee.

1830	1831	1832	1833	1834	1835	1836	1838
1840
1850

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

1837. First Telegraph. 1839. Photography—Daguerre.

1841. Sewing Machine. 1842. Nasmyth’s Steam Hammer. 1843. Ross’ Telescope. 1848. Planet Neptune Discovered. 1849. Joule’s Mechanical Equivalent of Heat—Anæsthetics.

1851. The Great Exhibition. 1852. Ophthalmoscope. 1854. Armstrong Gun. 1856. Tyndall’s Investigation of Glaciers. 1857. Atlantic Cable from Valentia to Newfoundland. 1858. The Great Eastern. 1859. Darwin, Origin of Species—Brunel’s Death.

1860. Stellar Spectroscopy—Huggins. 1861. Aeronautic Experiments. 1864. Clifton Suspension Bridge. 1865. Lister, Antiseptic Treatment. 1867. Death of Faraday. 1868. Suez Canal.

1870. Torpedo. 1871. Huxley, Anatomy of Vertebrates. 1872. Daily Weather Chart first begun. 1876. Challenger at Portsmouth—Bell’s Telephone. 1878. Electric Light on the Embankment. 1879. Phonograph.

1880. Pasteur’s Cure of Hydrophobia. 1882. Sir W. Siemen’s Steel Process. 1885. Maxim Gun. 1888. Stellar Photography—Sir Isaac Roberts. 1889. Bicycles, The Pneumatic Tyre.

1890. Forth Bridge. 1892. Tower Bridge. 1894. Argon, by Lord Rayleigh and Professor Ramsay. 1895. Röntgen Rays. 1896. Lord Kelvin’s Jubilee.

Economics for Girls

By Margaret Bridges.

Changed attitude of public towards economics.

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

Training given in accuracy.

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

Reasoning powers developed.

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

History rendered more interesting.

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

Interest shown by pupils in subject.

Diagrams supplied by pupils.

Illustrations drawn from daily life.

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

Judicious use of text-books.

Economics as an examination subject.

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

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

Ethical considerations. Enlarged sympathies.

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

Wealth an element in well-being.

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

Appendix

I give a few extracts from papers received from old pupils, in answer to the request that they would say, quite simply and unofficially, what benefits they had derived from a course of economic study.

“I think that learning economics has helped me to take a more intelligent interest in everyday matters.”

“I consider I have benefited more by that subject than by any other. There are so many subjects you can take an interest in if you understand economics, that if you do not, would appeal to you in no way whatever.”

“It helps us to understand some of the most important subjects of the day, and gives us a clearer idea of the difficulties of the poor—and shows us the best way of helping them.”

“The human sympathies cannot fail to be awakened, and narrow-minded and selfish views cannot long be entertained. Economics often shows the best methods in the relief of our less fortunate brothers and sisters.”

“Living as I do, in Ireland, the study of this subject has widened my interests greatly. Now I can more fully understand the problem of landlord and tenant.”

“Besides economics being useful, it is also very interesting.”

“It tends to make one speak more exactly and to keep to the point.”

Many more answers to the same effect might be given, but these are perhaps enough to show that the study of economics is neither uninteresting nor unpractical.

English Literature

By Amy Lumby.

The general aim and method of the teacher.

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

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

The earliest stage—the reading lesson.

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

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

The second stage—the detailed study of one of Shakspere’s plays, or some other work in detail.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The most advanced stage—the study of the history of literature.

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

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

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

Age.
10-12.	1st year.	Macaulay’s “Lays”; “Marmion”; Kingsley’s “Heroes”; Keary’s “Heroes of Asgard”.
10-12.	2nd year.	“Evangeline” and “Hiawatha”; “Enoch Arden”; “Ancient Mariner”; Lamb’s “Tales from Shakspere”; “Ivanhoe”.
12-14.	1st year.	“Midsummer Night’s Dream”; “Lady of the Lake”; “Deserted Village”; “Gulliver’s Travels”; “Kenilworth”.
12-14.	2nd year.	“Merchant of Venice”; “Childe Harold”; “Morte d’Arthur”; “Vicar of Wakefield”; Essays from the “Spectator”.
14-16.	1st year.	“As You Like It”; “Henry V.”; Gray’s “Elegy”; “The Princess”; “Esmond”; some of the “Essays of Elia”.
14-16.	2nd year.	“Faerie Queene,” book i.; “Julius Cæsar”; Milton’s “Minor Poems”; Macaulay’s Essays on “Clive” and on “Mme. d’Arblay”; Ruskin’s “Sesame and Lilies”.
16-18.	1st year.	“Macbeth”; “Paradise Lost,” books i. and ii.; “The Holy Grail”; “Areopagitica”; Burke’s “Speeches on America”.
16-18.	2nd year.	“Hamlet”; “Essay on Man”; “Selections from Wordsworth”; Bacon’s “Essays”; “Rasselas”; Carlyle, “The Hero as Poet and the Hero as Man of Letters”.

Philosophy and Religion

By Dorothea Beale.

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

Sphere of school instruction.

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

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

Relation of dogmatics to ethics.

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

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

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

Religion as related to science and philosophy.

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

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

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

Piety in its double sense.

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

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

Consciousness and self-consciousness.

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

The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that “this is I”:

But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of “I” and “me,”
And finds “I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch”.

So rounds he to a separate mind
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro’ the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.

Then, as in teaching science or language we first awaken the powers of observation, and lead the child to reflect, so here, in the case of the self-conscious subject, we help the child to interpret the facts of the inner life as well as the outer.

Whilst recognising the danger of forcing the subjective in children, we ought in this, as in other things, to follow the guidance of nature, and surely our own experience, and that of most children, will show how much they are occupied with their own feelings, with the struggles of the higher to subdue the animal nature, and how through contest they are developing the will-power, which is the only safeguard of later life.

It is especially important early to correlate the subjective with the objective in early teaching. Surely much irreligion results in later life from the divorce of the two. As we guide the observing powers in the outward life, so as the power of reflection develops we should do with the inward life: the child is conscious of the pang which comes to all of us, when we act against conscience: that pang which makes our blood run cold, as we feel we have done wrong, is as much a fact of experience, as real, as the sensation of heat, when we touch hot iron. Would people grow up to deny the existence of the spiritual consciousness, if they had been led to question their own experience? A beautiful story is told by Parker and quoted by Armstrong.22

Conscience.

“When a little boy in my fourth year, my father took me to the farm and sent me home alone. I had to pass a pond. A rhodora attracted my attention. I saw a spotted tortoise sunning himself in the shallow water at the root of the flaming shrub. I lifted the stick I had, to strike; though I had never killed any creature, I had seen boys destroy birds, squirrels and the like, and felt a disposition to follow their wicked example. All at once something checked my little arm, and a voice within said clear and loud, ‘It is wrong’. I held my uplifted stick in wonder at the new emotion, the consciousness of an involuntary but inward check upon my action, till the tortoise and rhodora both vanished from my sight. I hastened home to mother and asked what it was that told me it was wrong. Taking me in her arms, she said: ‘Some men call it conscience, but I prefer to call it the voice of God. If you listen and obey it, it will speak clearer and clearer, but if you turn a deaf ear, it will at last leave you in the dark without a guide: your life depends on your obedience to its voice.’ No event in my life has made so deep and lasting an impression.”

A witness for the spiritual, the universal.

The fact that we cannot get rid of the consciousness of wrong, shows that there is a higher Self condemning the self, one other than ourselves; we must not force answers on the child, but we can bring into his consciousness the presence of the holy and righteous God. We may help to make clear and permanent in his consciousness the facts, which he will only later interpret—the conflict of the merely individual, the selfish life, with the larger, the all-embracing life of unselfish love.

We may appeal too to the experience of each child, who suffers punishment rather than disobey conscience. Such victories establish faith, convince us that we are more than creatures of time, that we are sons of God. Every true and self-denying act that a child is able to do is a ground of confidence; “I write unto you, young men, because ye have overcome the wicked one”. Each time that the mere animal desires are subdued by the love of truth and righteousness, we prove that we transcend the things of time and space. These are the eternal things, which eye sees not and thought cannot conceive, and yet for the sake of these unseen and eternal things men live and die, and count all earthly things as nought. Do not the hearts of all children “burn within them” as we expound to them the Scriptures which tell of heroes who have done battle, who laid down their lives for righteousness’ sake, of Him who triumphed from the Cross? We can appeal too to the inward experience of those who are naughty; they do not in their inmost heart wish to be so, but they try and fail; nothing is more touching than the penitence of children, when they find that we have seen the good which is hidden, and not only the evil that comes forth—that we know, not only what is done, but what is resisted. We can, as in the old myths, show that their deliberate choice is not for selfish pleasure; they would if offered the things most delightful to the mere animal, refuse all, if they could have it only on condition of becoming wicked and cruel and deceitful. Hauff’s Cold Heart is a beautiful story on the subject. Thus should we base healthy religious experiences upon facts, and foster habits of attention and obedience to the inward voice.

Right ambitions too should be fostered, the desire to enter into the Divine purposes in thought and word and deed, to be a fellow-worker with God. This will take more definite form in the later idealising period of life; still there will be developed sometimes at an early age earnest desires to become wise and good and to do some special work.

Order of teaching.

For objective formal teaching the little ones would begin with the stories of the world’s childhood. The lessons first given in a simple form will be expanded in the higher classes. The child who has learned to trust his father, will learn from Abraham’s sacrifice that we can trust God; the higher classes will see how by the frustration of his purpose Abraham learned the true meaning of sacrifice; the Psalms and Prophets will carry on the subjective teaching, and the words of the old prophets will become a fact of experience; “the word of the Lord came unto me”.

The inner meaning of the sacred myths which had once been told as a mere story will now be felt; the story of the flood as interpreted by St. Peter, and quoted in our baptismal service, the deliverance from the bondage in Egypt, typifying redemption from the slavery of sin, the New Testament teaching of the synoptical gospels, especially the parables, will have supreme educative power.

Written work.

It is essential that in this, as in other subjects, written exercises which require thought be set, and corrected and criticised—this is often the only subject in which pupils are not required to formulate their thoughts—hence there exists a vast amount of current religious phraseology to which no definite meaning is assigned; the words may be true in themselves, but not true for the person using them. An American writer tells of one who for years was a regular attendant at church, and often encouraged him by her attentive and responsive expression; when he came to know her later, he found to his surprise that she was as ignorant of the fundamental truths as if she had been brought up in a heathen land.

Sceptical phases.

The later period, that of ripening experience, of adolescence, will give the maximum of reflective, as the earliest childhood, the maximum of the sensitive power. As the mysteries of their own being are more and more unfolded, the problems of philosophy and metaphysics have an attraction which should not be disregarded: there is a desire to be alone; the young feel that they must work out the problems for themselves, and they resent the attempt to force on them other people’s solutions. They must question ere they can fully believe; we must never give utterance to the profane idea, that God is angry with those who make mistakes in seeking truth, only show that truth like light is a good, that we may not rest in an indolent agnosticism, for we cannot grow vigorous and strong out of the sunlight; we must encourage them, in this as in all studies, to be ever seeking a fuller knowledge of truth, to live by the truth they have attained, and then they will gain more and more, even through the mistakes. The function of the teacher now is as Socrates described it, to be ready to give help, when needed, to bring to the birth the great thoughts which oppress the soul.

Need of leisure.

Later the deep spiritual experiences of St. John and the arguments wherewith St. Paul convinced himself, will come home to the religious experience at least in some degree, and the words in which he describes the vision of God as seen from the spiritual heights, which he had reached in his later epistles. But there must be for the ripening of the character time for quiet, and the incessant activities of to-day, the filling up of every hour, the deprivation of quiet even on Sunday, are much to be regretted, and all educators should see that those who need time for spiritual thought, for working out the great questions which come to every thoughtful person, should not be deprived of it, because some would misuse it. There are two excellent articles in the Pedagogical Review for July, 1891, on the “Psychology and Pedagogy of Adolescence,” by E. Lancaster, and another, a study in “Moral Education,” by J. Street, both Fellows of Clark University; the second article is especially emphatic on this subject.

Systematic reading.

In the highest classes, some systematic reading regarding the history and foundations of philosophy in general and Christian philosophy in particular should not, I think, be omitted: one cannot do better than begin with Plato; taking the Apology, the Crito and parts of the Phædo, or the two volumes of selections by Professor Jowett, or some less expensive edition. The Memorabilia of Xenophon is obtainable for 3d. Selections might be made from Aristotle’s Ethics, and some good history of philosophy be made accessible, e.g., Schwegler’s, edited by Dr. Hutchinson Stirling, which is not too long; and some such inspiring book as Fichte’s Vocation of the Scholar may be recommended; other books I might mention, e.g., Henry Jones on Browning; Professor Frazer’s selection from Berkeley; Mackenzie’s Social Philosophy and the series of small hand-books edited by Professor Knight. There might be meetings for discussion and reading under the presidency of one versed in such matters; this would give definiteness to thought, and would at least lead to the kind of wisdom which made the oracle pronounce Socrates the wisest of men; such meetings would be specially useful for the staff. Some effort should be made to establish the primary convictions which alone make life worth living, enable one to possess one’s soul in patience, live in the faith that each is working out the will of the All-Wise and All-Good—if willingly, then with the fullest joy and reward.

Higher teaching.

The subject is not ignored at the University Colleges of the States, and there is much of deep interest in the article to which I have referred, viz., “Psychology of Adolescence”. In an article by Caswell Ellis, the special training of teachers of religion is insisted on, and the establishment of professorships. “A department of pedagogy cannot be called complete that does not deal with this important part of its field. Religious training is as much a problem for the pedagogue, as is physical or mental training. Surely we cannot entirely separate them. We have already at our command in the Universities, many helps in the study of the Bible, of theology, of philosophy, of psychology, etc.; why cannot there be found some man of broad culture, wide sympathies, reverent spirit, to focalise these in a chair of religious pedagogy, or whatever it may be called? it would give the opportunity while in college to look at the larger phases of the problem of religious training. No subject is more vital, and our best men need not leave college ignorant of the problem or the possibility of its solution—and find in the decline of life that (as editors, preachers, etc.) they have been spending their energies on reformation, while the great work of formation was never considered.”

Foundations of faith.

The means of giving a thorough and systematic teaching regarding the strong foundations of faith, is one that should be considered by all educators. It is true that the emotions and affections are, as in the case of all personal relations, the appropriate means of intercommunion; but the religious life, if it is not to become weak and sentimental, needs the bracing power of intellectual study, and the Scriptures, especially the writings of St. John and St. Paul, afford such exercise.

I may perhaps summarise the lines on which the grounds of a rational faith seem to be established, and which should surely be formulated, as we formulate the principles on which we base our faith in matters of science. They may be arranged under two heads—objective and subjective:—

1. Sense compels us to recognise the existence of a universe, to which we can set no bounds of space or time. We find everywhere at work forces adapted to produce results immeasurably greater, yet similar in character, to those produced by our own exercise of thought and will; we are unable to conceive of either except as ultimately proceeding from a personal mind and will.

Since our mind interprets the phenomena of sense, which is the language of Nature; since the intelligent mind is related to an intelligible universe, the finite mind must be related to the infinite, man must be the child of God.

The facts of history show us man in all ages renouncing all that the animal craves for, for the sake of the ideal, the transcendent.

2. Man is self-conscious, he can become an object to himself; that he can do this proves him to have a dual nature. The higher sits in judgment on the lower, or animal nature (identified with the individual), seeks to bring it into obedience to the universal. Since we can identify conscience with the universal mind and will, we infer that we are on the one side in communion with God, as on the other with the universe.

Man has the power of sympathy. As we cannot conceive of light without postulating an all-comprehending æther, through which all things are related, so the fact that we are affected, actually feel physically and mentally with others, is inconceivable without postulating one all-embracing Personality.

The faith that good must ultimately triumph is an axiom of the moral life; we find it impossible to believe the reverse.

These are some of the broad bases on which rest the Christian dogmas of the relation of man to God the All-Father, which tell of a perfect Son, and of the power given to all to rise through grace into the spiritual life.

I have dwelt on the subject at some length, because it seems to me that the intellectual relation to God has been too much ignored; we should love with the mind as well as with the heart; with the developing of the physical and psychical life, the soul craves to root itself more firmly on the consciousness of the universal, it desires to be at one with the All-Wise and the All-Good Father of spirits to work out the purpose of its own existence. It seeks to be in harmony with all who are living by the highest ideal; hence the impulse to work in associations, specially in the spiritual life, for life must overflow into action! It seeks evermore to be at one in its being, and to bring the individual self into harmony with the all-embracing Spirit in whom we are one.

I may recommend to teachers the recently published volume on Religious Teaching in Schools, by Dr. Bell of Marlborough.

Notes

19 It may be well to add that I am not ignorant of the discussions respecting the proper beginning of a century. Is the year 1800 the last year of the eighteenth or the first year of the nineteenth century? Our dates have been translated from the Latin ordinals, and we ought to say the eighteen-hundredth year, instead of the year eighteen-hundred. I have deliberately preferred to conform the chart to the vulgar tongue. If I did not, the numbers in the first line would contain nine units and one ten, instead of all units; the second line of tens would contain one twenty, and so on. If we are content to use the inaccurate language of daily life, bearing in mind that it requires correction, and making such corrections when we are engaged in important historical or astronomical calculations, we may well be content to do the same with the chart. I shall, therefore, consider the life of a century as that of a centenarian. We say of a child that he is in his 1st, 2nd, 3rd, etc., year, when he is 0, 1, 2, etc., years old; so, also, a person is in his 100th year when he is 99 years old; and he has lived a century at the close of this year, for the cardinal marks the number of completed years, the ordinal the number of the year in progress. So 1799 is regarded as the closing year of the last century, 1800, 1801, as the first and second of this. For a learned and elaborate discussion on the subject, and a list of authorities for the view adopted, see An Examination of the Century Question, George Bell, Fleet Street, 1850.

20 Students’ Chronological Maps (Bell & Sons, 3s. 6d.).

21 For more complete lists of sovereigns and a selection of the more important dates, Beale’s Student Text-book of English and Modern History may be referred to, and Students’ Chronological Maps (Bell & Sons).

22 Man’s Knowledge of God. Swift.

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