[47] Teaching of Languages in Schools, by W. H. Widgery, p. 6.
[48] Much information about our early books, with quotations from some of them, will be found in Henry Barnard’s English Pedagogy, 1st and 2nd series. Some notice of rare books is given in Schools, School-books, and Schoolmasters, by W. Carew Hazlitt (London, Jarvis, 1888), but in this work there are strange omissions.
[49] The paging is that of the reprint. It differs slightly from that of first edition.
[50] Mulcaster goes on to talk about the brain, &c. Of course he does not anticipate the discoveries of science, but his language is very different from what we should expect from a writer in the pre-scientific age, e.g., “To serve the turn of these two, both sense and motion, Nature hath planted in our body a brain, the prince of all our parts, which by spreading sinews of all sorts throughout all our parts doth work all those effects which either sense is seen in or motion perceived by.” (El., p. 32.) But much as he thinks of the body Mulcaster is no materialist. “Last of all our soul hath in it an imperial prerogative of understanding beyond sense, of judging by reason, of directing by both, for duty towards God, for society towards men, for conquest in affections, for purchase in knowledge, and such other things, whereby it furnisheth out all manner of uses in this our mortal life, and bewrayeth in itself a more excellent being than to continue still in this roaming pilgrimage.” (p. 33.) The grand thing, he says, is to bring all these abilities to perfection “which so heavenly a benefit is begun by education, confirmed by use, perfected with continuance which crowneth the whole work.” (p. 34.) “Nature makes the boy toward; nurture sees him forward.” (p. 35.) The neglect of the material world which has been for ages the source of mischief of all kinds in the schoolroom, and which has not yet entirely passed away, would have been impossible if Mulcaster’s elementary course had been adopted. “Is the body made by Nature nimble to run, to ride, to swim, to fence, to do anything else which beareth praise in that kind for either profit or pleasure? And doth not the Elementary help them all forward by precept and train? The hand, the ear, the eye be the greatest instruments whereby the receiving and delivery of our learning is chiefly executed, and doth not this Elementary instruct the hand to write, to draw, to play; the eye to read by letters, to discern by line, to judge by both; the ear to call for voice and sound with proportion for pleasure, with reason for wit? Generally whatsoever gift Nature hath bestowed upon the body, to be brought forth or bettered by the mean of train for any profitable use in our whole life, doth not this Elementary both find it and foresee it?” (El., p. 35). “The hand, the ear, the eye, be the greatest instruments,” said the Elizabethan schoolmaster. So says the Victorian reformer.
[51] I wish some good author would write a book on Unpopular Truths, and show how, on some subjects, wise men go on saying the same thing in all ages and nobody listens to them. Plato said “In every work the beginning is the most important part, especially in dealing with anything young and tender.” (Rep., bk. ii, 377; Davies and Vaughan, p. 65.) And the complaints about “bad grounding” prove our common neglect of what Mulcaster urged three centuries ago: “For the Elementarie because good scholars will not abase themselves to it, it is left to the meanest, and therefore to the worst. For that the first grounding would be handled by the best, and his reward would be greatest, because both his pains and his judgment should be with the greatest. And it would easily allure sufficient men to come down so low, if they might perceive that reward would rise up. No man of judgment will contrary this point, neither can any ignorant be blamed for the contrary: the one seeth the thing to be but low in order, the other knoweth the ground to be great in laying, not only for the matter which the child doth learn: which is very small in show though great for process: but also for the manner of handling his wit, to hearten him for afterward, which is of great moment. The first master can deal but with a few, the next with more, and so still upward as reason groweth on and receives without forcing. It is the foundation well and soundly laid, which makes all the upper building muster, with countenance and continuance. If I were to strike the stroke, as I am but to give counsel, the first pains truly taken should in good truth be most liberally recompensed; and less allowed still upward, as the pains diminish and the ease increaseth. Whereat no master hath cause to repine, so he may have his children well grounded in the Elementarie. Whose imperfection at this day doth marvellously trouble both masters and scholars, so that we can hardly do any good, nay, scantly tell how to place the too too raw boys in any certain form, with hope to go forward orderly, the ground-work of their entry being so rotten underneath.” (PP., pp. 233, 4.)
[52] Quaint as we find Mulcaster in his mode of expression, the thing expressed is sometimes rather what we should expect from Herbert Spencer than from a schoolmaster of the Renascence. I have met with nothing more modern in thought than the following: “In time all learning may be brought into one tongue, and that natural to the inhabitant: so that schooling for tongues may prove needless, as once they were not needed; but it can never fall out that arts and sciences in their right nature shall be but most necessary for any commonwealth that is not given over unto too too much barbarousness.” (PP., 240.)
[53] “Subject to a regulation like that of the ancient Spartans, the theft of knowledge in our sex is only connived at while carefully concealed, and if displayed [is] punished with disgrace.” So says Mrs. Barbauld, and I have met with similar passages in other female writers.
[54] John Brinsley (the elder) who married a sister of Bishop Hall’s and kept school at Ashby-de-la-Zouch (was it the Grammar School?) was one of the best English writers on education. In his Consolation for our Grammar Schooles, published early in the sixteen hundreds, he says: “Amongst others myself having first had long experience of the manifold evils which grow from the ignorance of a right order of teaching, and afterwards some gracious taste of the sweetness that is to be found in the better courses truly known and practised, I have betaken me almost wholly, for many years unto this weighty work, and that not without much comfort, through the goodness of our blessed God.” (p. 1.) “And for the most part wherein any good is done, it is ordinarily effected by the endless vexation of the painful master, the extreme labour and terror of the poor children with enduring far overmuch and long severity. Now whence proceedeth all this but because so few of those who undertake this function are acquainted with any good method or right order of instruction fit for a grammar school?” (p. 2.) It is sad to think how many generations have since suffered from teachers “unacquainted with any good method or right order of instruction.” And it seems to justify Goethe’s dictum, “Der Engländer ist eigentlich ohne Intelligenz,” that for several generations to come this evil will be but partially abated.
[55] At Cambridge (as also in London and Edinburgh) there is already a Training College for Women Teachers in Secondary Schools.
[56] All we know of his life may soon be told. Richard Mulcaster was a Cumberland man of good family, an “esquier borne,” as he calls himself, who was at Eton, then King’s College, Cambridge, then at Christ Church, Oxford. His birth year was probably 1530 or 1531, and he became a student of Christ Church in 1555. In 1558 he settled as a schoolmaster in London, and was elected first headmaster of Merchant Taylors’ School, which dates from 1561. Here he remained twenty-five years, i.e. till 1586. Whether he then became, as H. B. Wilson says, surmaster of St. Paul’s, I cannot determine, but “he came in” highmaster in 1596, and held that office for twelve years. Though in 1598 Elizabeth made him rector of Stanford Rivers, there can be no doubt that he did not give up the highmastership till 1608, when he must have been about 77 years old. He died at Stanford Rivers three years later. While at Merchant Taylors’, viz., in 1581 and 1582, he published the two books which have secured for him a permanent place in the history of education in England. The first was his Positions, the second “The first part” (and, as it proved, the only part) of his Elementarie. Of his other writings, his Cato Christianus seems to have been the most important, and a very interesting quotation from it has been preserved in Robotham’s Preface to the Janua of Comenius; but the book itself is lost: at least I never heard of a copy, and I have sought in vain in the British Museum, and at the University Libraries of Oxford and Cambridge. His Catechismus Paulinus is a rare book, but Rev. J. H. Lupton has found and described a copy in the Bodleian.