§ 16. But the reflection by no means justifies the disgraceful waste of memory which goes on in most school-rooms. Much is learnt which, for want of the necessary repetition, will soon be lost again, besides much that would be valueless if remembered. The thing to aim at is not giving “useful knowledge,” but making the memory a store house of such facts as are good material for the other powers of the mind to work with; and that the facts may serve this purpose they must be such as the mind can thoroughly grasp and handle, and such as can be connected together. To instruct is instruere, “to put together in order, to build;” it is not cramming the memory with facts without connexion, and, as Herbert Spencer calls them, unorganisable. And yet a great deal of our children’s memory is wasted in storing facts of this kind, which can never form part of any organism. We do not teach them geography (earth knowledge, as the Germans call it), but the names of places. Our “history” is a similar, though disconnected study. We leave our children ignorant of the land, but insist on their getting up the “landmarks.” And, perhaps, from a latent perception of the uselessness of such work, neither teachers nor scholars ever think of these things as learnt to be remembered. They are indeed got up, as Schuppius says of the Logic of his day, in spem futuræ oblivionis. Latin grammar is gone through again and again, and a boy feels that the sooner he gets it into his head, the better it will be for him; but who expects that the lists of geographical and historical names which are learnt one half-year, will be remembered the next? I have seen it asserted, that when a boy leaves school, he has already forgotten nine-tenths of what he has been taught, and I dare say that estimate is quite within the mark.
§ 17. By adopting the principles of Jacotot, we avoid a great deal of this waste. We give some thorough knowledge, with which fresh knowledge may be connected. And it will then be found that perfect familiarity with a subject is something beyond the mere understanding it and being able, with difficulty, to reproduce what we have learned. By thus going over the same thing again and again, we acquire a thorough command over our knowledge; and the feeling perfectly at home, even within narrow borders, gives a consciousness of strength. An old adage tells us that the Jack-of-all-trades is master of none; but the master of one trade will have no difficulty in extending his insight and capacity beyond it. To use an illustration, which is of course an illustration merely, we should kindle knowledge in children, like fire in a grate. A stupid servant, with a small quantity of wood, spreads it over the whole grate. It blazes away, goes out, and is simply wasted. Another, who is wiser or more experienced, kindles the whole of the wood at one spot, and the fire, thus concentrated, extends in all directions. Similarly we should concentrate the beginnings of knowledge, and although we could not expect to make much show for a time, we might be sure that after a bit the fire would extend, almost of its own accord.[184]
§ 18. From Joseph Payne I take Jacotot’s directions for carrying out the rule, “II faut apprendre quelque chose, et y rapporter tout le reste.”
1. Learn—i.e., learn so as to know thoroughly, perfectly, immovably (imperturbablement), as well six months or twelve months hence, as now—something—something which fairly represents the subject to be acquired, which contains its essential characteristics. 2. Repeat that “something” incessantly (sans cesse), i.e., every day, or very frequently, from the beginning, without any omission, so that no part may be forgotten. 3. Reflect upon the matter thus acquired, so as, by degrees, to make it a possession of the mind as well as of the memory, so that, being appreciated as a whole, and appreciated in its minutest parts, what is as yet unknown, may be referred to it and interpreted by it. 4. Verify, or test, general remarks, e.g., grammatical rules, &c., made by others, by comparing them with the facts (i.e., the words and phraseology) which you have learnt yourself.
§ 19. In conclusion, I will give some account of the way in which reading, writing, and the mother-tongue were taught on the Jacototian system.
The teacher takes a book, say Edgeworth’s “Early Lessons,” points to the first word, and names it, “Frank.” The child looks at the word and also pronounces it. Then the teacher does the same with the first two words, “Frank and”; then with the three first, “Frank and Robert,” &c. When a line or so has been thus gone over, the teacher asks which word is Robert? What word is that (pointing to one)? “Find me the same word in this line” (pointing to another part of the book). When a sentence has been thus acquired, the words already known are analysed into syllables, and these syllables the child must pick out elsewhere. Finally, the same thing is done with letters. When the child can read a sentence, that sentence is put before him written in small-hand, and the child is required to copy it. When he has copied the first word, he is led, by the questions of the teacher, to see how it differs from the original, and then he tries again. The pupil must always correct himself, guided only by questions. This sentence must be worked at till the pupil can write it pretty well from memory. He then tries it in larger characters. By carrying out this plan, the children’s powers of observation and making comparisons are strengthened, and the arts of reading and writing are said to be very readily acquired.
§ 20. For the mother-tongue, a model book is chosen and thoroughly learned. Suppose “Rasselas” is selected. “The pupil learns by heart a sentence, or a few sentences, and to-morrow adds a few more, still repeating from the beginning. The teacher, after two or three lessons of learning and repeating, takes portions—any portion—of the matter, and submits it to the crucible of the pupil’s mind:—Who was Rasselas? Who was his father? What is the father of waters? Where does it begin its course? Where is Abyssinia? Where is Egypt? Where was Rasselas placed? What sort of a person was Rasselas? What is ‘credulity’? What are the ‘whispers of fancy,’ the ‘promises of youth,’ &c., &c.?”
A great variety of written exercises is soon joined with the learning by heart. Pieces must be written from memory, and the spelling, pointing, &c., corrected by the pupil himself from the book. The same piece must be written again and again, till there are no more mistakes to correct. “This,” said Joseph Payne, who had himself taught in this way, “is the best plan for spelling that has been devised.” Then the pupil may write an analysis, may define words, distinguish between synonyms, explain metaphors, imitate descriptions, write imaginary dialogues or correspondence between the characters, &c. Besides these, a great variety of grammatical exercises may be given, and the force of prefixes and affixes may be found out by the pupils themselves by collection and comparison. “The resources even of such a book as “Rasselas” will be found all but exhaustless, while the training which the mind undergoes in the process of thoroughly mastering it, the acts of analysis, comparison, induction, and deduction, performed so frequently as to become a sort of second nature, cannot but serve as an excellent preparation for the subsequent study of English literature” (Payne).