American history is better than ancient history in respect to its richness of picturesque variety. It is, moreover, easier for children to comprehend, since our present conditions have emerged directly from our pioneer state. Not only are constitutions, institutions, and religious customs to be studied, but the economic conditions of those early times are particularly worthy of study, since they are both important and interesting. Methods of farming, of conducting household affairs, such as cooking, making fires, producing clothing, securing shelter, means of transportation on land and water, methods of communication, and many other similar topics are of interest to the young.
[242.] Furthermore, due attention must be given to the difficulty of narrating well a complex event. The very first condition is continuity of the thought-current, in order that the thread of the story may remain unbroken, except where there are intentional rests. This, in turn, presupposes fluency of speech, careful cultivation of which is indispensable to a good presentation of historical events. But mere fluency does not suffice. There must also be resting-places, because otherwise alternate absorption and reflection cannot be secured; and because, without such pauses, even the formation of the series fails, since what has preceded arrests what follows. It is therefore not immaterial where a historical lesson begins and ends, and where the reviews are inserted.
While the narrator can utter words in succession only, the event has, in his mind, a very different form, which it is his business to convey to his hearers. Nor does the form of the event resemble a level plane; on the contrary, a manifold interest lifts some things into prominence and lets others sink. It is essential, accordingly, to distinguish how far, in a given instance, the narration should follow in a straight line the succession of events, and where, on the other hand, it should deviate to include accessory circumstances. The very language used must possess the power to induce side-glances and retrospective views, even without leaving the main road. The narrator must have skill to introduce descriptions here and to linger over pictures there, but must be able also, while moving his hearers, to retain his own self-control and to keep his bearings.
[243.] There remains one other requisite of prime importance, namely, the utmost simplicity of expression. The condensed and abstract language of more recent historians is hardly suited even to the highest class of a secondary school; a sentimental or witty treatment, such as that found in modern novelists, must be avoided entirely. The only safe models are the ancient classics.
The most serious fault with the text-book method is the barrenness arising from condensation. To teach history solely from a single book, even if this be among the best, is to produce an atrophy of the historical interest. It is on this account that successful teachers introduce large amounts of collateral reading, not of similarly condensed books, which would be like remedying the drouth with more dry weather, but of sections from fuller works on the same subject. In American history the pupil is directed to read selected portions of standard works like those of Fiske, Parkman, McMaster, Turner, Tyler, or earlier historians. In English history he is sent directly to such men as Gardiner, Green, Freeman, Traill, Ransome, Cunningham and McArthur, Harrison and Macaulay. The method of copious readings has, in turn, its disadvantages, the most conspicuous of which is diffusiveness. It is easy for the student to become so absorbed in a mass of details that he lose the proper sense of proportion, or overlook the relative importance of events, or fail to fix firmly in mind the causal series that binds all together. In the case of either of the methods described, it is the teacher who is responsible for order and for clearness of detail. In the one case his narrative must have the artistic unity of the finished historian; in the other he must so manage a wealth of given material that the golden chain of cause and effect shall be seen binding diversity into unity. The ability to do the first is of a much rarer order than that of the second, for the art of teaching is not so difficult as the art of historical composition. The remedy for the specific difficulty which modern text-book teaching of history encounters will be discussed under paragraph [247].
The stories of Herodotus should serve the teacher as the basis for practice. In fact, they should actually be memorized in an accurate but fluent translation. The effect on children is surprising. At a later stage use may be made of Arrian and Livy. The method of the ancients of letting the principal characters utter their views and set forth their motives with their own lips, the narrator abstaining from reflections of his own, should be scrupulously imitated, and should be departed from only in the case of manifestly artificial rhetorical devices.
[244.] The course of preparation outlined above ([240]–[243]) having gone hand-in-hand with a thorough, pragmatic study of history, it is further necessary, in the exercise of the art acquired, to learn to expand or contract, according to circumstances and the specific aims of each occasion. Concerning this point no generally applicable rules can be given, on account of the great variety of possible cases; but the following suggestions should be noted:—
In general, all helps whereby historical objects may be represented to sense—portraits, pictures of buildings, of ruins, etc.—are desirable; maps for the more ancient times must be regarded as particularly indispensable. They should always be at hand, and their study should not be neglected. Among these helps must be included charts, substantially like that by Strass entitled “The Stream of Time,” which places before the eye not only synchronistic events, but at the same time shows also the alternate union and division of countries. The lack of such aids causes the loss of much time and temper over mere memory work.
Again, attention is due to the following four aspects of the teaching of history:—
[245.] (1) In the first place, even the earliest lessons in geography give rise to the question, whenever the description of a country is finished, “How did things look in this country formerly?” For it is a part of correct apprehension that cities and other works of man should not be regarded as of equal age with mountains, rivers, and oceans. Now, although the teacher cannot stop, during the time set apart for geography dealing with the present, to show and explain maps illustrative of the past, it will be useful, nevertheless, to add a few remarks about the early history of the country under discussion. The art of narration, however, is out of place here, inasmuch as the question, although reaching back in time, is suggested by the country. Mention of former activity, such as migrations and wars, is made simply for the purpose of adding life to the conception of a stationary surface. At the beginning, the notes on by-gone periods in connection with the geography of Germany will accordingly be as brief as possible; gradually, however, as France, England, Spain, Italy, are being studied in succession, these historical notes become knit together, and history is thus, so to speak, made to loom up in the distance. How far to go in this direction can be determined more definitely by distinguishing between the requirements of the first, and of the second course in geography. In the first course the most general statements may suffice, e.g., that not so very long ago Germany was split up more than now; that there were older times, when cities and neighboring princes often made war upon each other; that the barons used to live on more or less inaccessible heights; but that, in the interest of better order and stricter surveillance, Germany was divided into ten districts, etc.