* * * * *

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The scene is touching."—Cowper

"What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under
the sun?"—Ecclesiastes i. 3.

* * * * *

How came you to think of the Infant School system of teaching?—is a question that I have often been asked; and my friends think it advisable that it should, in part at least, be answered. I proceed therefore, in compliance with their wishes, to give some little of the required information in this place, as perhaps it may throw light upon, or explain more clearly, the fundamental principles laid down and advocated throughout this volume. In few words, then, I would reply,—circumstances forced me to it. Born an only child, under peculiar circumstances, and living in an isolated neighbourhood, I had no childish companions from infancy; I was, consequently, thrown much on my own resources, and early became a thinker, and in some measure a contriver too. I beheld a beautiful world around me, full of everything to admire and to win attention. As soon as I could think at all, I saw that there must be a Maker, Governor, and Protector of this world. Such things as had life won my admiration, and thus I became very fond of animals. Flowers and fruits, stones and minerals, I also soon learned to observe and to mark their differences. This led to enquiries as to how they came—where from—who made them? My mother told me they came from God, that he made them and all things that I saw; and also that he made herself and me. From that moment I never doubted His wonderful existence. I could not, nor did I have, at that age, any correct idea of God; but I soon learned to have elevated notions of His works, and through them I was led to adore something invisible—something I was convinced of within, but could not see. My mother, to my knowledge, never deceived me, or told me an untruth: therefore, I believed her implicitly; and to this day I never doubted. So much for the implanting an early faith in the Unseen. But the beautiful world and the things in it which I saw, and with which I came in contact, Oh! how wonderful they appeared to me! They were my companions! Other children were strange to me, and they were not nigh either to help or to thwart me.

My mother was my oracle during the first six years of childhood, resolving my difficulties and answering my questions. I was happy—very happy! and still look back to those days with indescribable pleasure and satisfaction. I had no tasks. I was not pestered with A.B. C., nor ab. eb. ib. From things my parents chiefly taught me my first lessons, and they have been as durable as life. For days and weeks did I study such lessons. My parents waited till I asked for information, and when it was required it was never denied. The world and the wonders in it formed as it were a heaven to me. I am told I gave but little trouble at this age. In the beautiful fields and wild coppices about Hornsey, as yet unencroached upon by suburban extension; and by the side of the then solitary banks of the New River, I was always to be found. In cold and wet weather I had a stock of similar lessons in my home. Small live animals were my constant companions; they taught me that love begets love. I did love and delight in them, and when they died I mourned their loss. Every day brought me new information, which my parents perfected. At length the alphabet was mastered, and afterwards spelling, reading, and so forth. My mind being thus previously filled with ideas, the acquirement of words and abstract terms became less irksome, and I cannot remember that thus far it cost me any trouble, much less pain. Information of every kind fit for childhood then really gave me pleasure. No doubt I am greatly indebted to my parents for their judicious management. My father always in the evening, took great pains to explain things to me; he nurtured but never crammed; he knew when to teach and when to let alone. Unfortunately, through very peculiar circumstances, I was removed from the immediate care and superintendence of both parents rather early in life; and, at an age the most dangerous, was left to grapple nearly alone with the wide world and the beings in it, with little of either parental guidance. It was then I saw the immense importance and advantage of early impressions. To me they were of incalculable benefit, and no doubt led, when I became a man, to the thoughts which ended in the development and practical working of the Infant System and method of education.

Schools for infants then existed, but what were they? Simply dame-schools, with the hornbook for boys and girls, and perhaps a little sewing for the latter. Their sign was—"Children taught to read and work here," and their furniture the cap and bells, the rod in pickle, and a corner for dunces. The finishing stroke was seen in the parlour of the inn, or the farm-house, in the shape of needlework as a samplar;—"Lydia Languish, her work, done at —— school, in the year of our Lord, 1809." Such were the schools in country places then in existence, the little ones doing nothing. In after-life, I thought a remedy was required and might be found, and therefore set about working it out. How it was done shall be hereafter explained.

I knew my own infant state had been a happy one, and I wondered to see children crying to go to school, when learning had been such a delight to me. But I soon ceased to wonder when I was sent there myself. At my first school I can truly say I learnt nothing, except it be that I had especially the sense of feeling. I often had raps with the cane on the head, across the shoulders, and on the hand, and I found it was mainly for not learning what the teacher had forgotten to teach me. The terms used were "master" and "mistress," and they were tolerably appropriate as far as I was concerned, for to me both became objects of terror, so much so, that for the first time in my life, I really fretted when the hour of teaching came. My parents were not long in perceiving this although I did not complain. They told me it was for my good that I should go to school, and I thoroughly believed them. Yet I could not understand why it should be associated with so much dislike and pain on my part, when my first school,—the beautiful world of nature, had been so lovely, and my first teachers had always increased the delight by removing my difficulties, and this so much so that I now longed for evening to come to have fresh light and instruction given. My father now decided that I should not go to school, and he became my teacher as before, the world being my great book. I was delighted with Robinson Crusoe, and this work became my companion, and to which was added the Pilgrim's Progress. After these, my great favourite was Buffon's Natural History. I used to go alone, taking a volume at a time, to read amidst the pleasant country around, but most frequently in the quiet nooks and retreats of Hornsey Wood. It seems, however, that I was always watched and superintended by my mother during these readings and rural rambles, for whenever danger was near she generally appeared, but seldom otherwise, so that I had perfect freedom in these matters. I have every reason to believe that the first seven years of my life laid the basis of all I know that is worth knowing, and led to the formation of my character and future career in life. Of my schooling afterwards it is unnecessary to say much, as it was the usual routine such as others had, but it never satisfied me, and I even then saw errors throughout the whole, and this strengthened my first impressions, and tended to mature the after-thought in me, that something wanted doing and must be done. It is not my intention in this introductory chapter to write an auto-biography; but my object is simply to show, how one impression followed another in my case, and what led to it; to point out briefly the various plans and inventions I had recourse to in carrying out my views and intentions; and, finally, to allude to their propagation through the country personally by myself, on purpose to show, in conclusion, that although infant education has been extensively adopted, and many of its principles, being based on nature, have been applied with great success to older children, yet especially in the case of infants, that strict adherence to nature and simplicity which is so fundamental and so requisite, has been often overlooked, and in some cases totally discarded.

It will, I trust, appear from what has been already said, that even from early childhood I both saw and felt that there was a period in human life, and that the most important period, as experience has proved to my full satisfaction, not legislated for, that is, not duly provided with suitable and appropriate methods of education. To see this was one thing, to provide a remedy for it and to invent plans for carrying out that remedy, was another. The systems of Bell and of Lancaster were then commencing operations, but were quite unsuitable for children under seven years of age at least, and therefore took little or no cognizance of that early period, which I had been inwardly convinced was of such eminent importance. I was destined for business, and served the usual apprenticeship to become qualified for it, and also continued in it for a short period on my own account. Even at this time the thought ever haunted me as to what should be done for young children. At length the germ was developed at one of the Sunday Schools, which were then rising into general notice. For years I attended one of these in London, and here circumstances again befriended me, regarding the matter so frequently in my thoughts. The teachers mostly preferred having a class to superintend that knew something, and I being then a junior, it fell to my lot to have a class that knew little or nothing. I mean nothing that it was the object of the Sunday-school to teach. It soon appeared clear to me, that such a class required different treatment to those more advanced, and especially the young children. Nobody wanted this class, it was always "to let," if I did not take it. The result was, I always had it. Others looked to the post of honour, the Bible-class. I soon found that to talk to such children as I had to teach, in the manner the others did to the older and more advanced children, was useless, and thus I was forced to simplify my mode of teaching to suit their state of apprehension, and now and then even to amuse them. This succeeded so well, that in the end my class became the popular class, and I became still further convinced of the desirableness of an especial plan for teaching the very young. I, however, still thought that the alphabet should be taught first, with the usual things in their order. At length, shortly after my marriage, which was rather early in life, an opportunity presented itself for trying an experiment on a larger scale; from having explained my views on early education to a friend, I was solicited to take the superintendence of an asylum for young children, about to be formed in a populous part of London. Having thus an opportunity of carrying out my wishes, thoughts, and feelings, in a way that I could not have anticipated, I gave up my connexion with business, and devoted myself to the object. Great and unforseen difficulties however had to be encountered. The first week was dreadful. I began with too many children, and we had six whom the mothers afterwards confessed they sent to wean. These not only cried themselves, but set all the others crying also, and we regretted having begun the experiment. At length, driven almost to despair, it became evident that something new must be done to still the tumult. As an expedient, I elevated a cap on a pole, which immediately attracted their attention and occasioned silence. Thus I obtained a clue to guide me, and my mind instantly perceived one of the most fundamental principles in infant teaching, in fact of most teaching, and which long experience has proved true, and that is, to appeal to the SENSES of the children. After this, every day developed something new to me, the children became happy beyond my expectations, and my course onward was gradually progressive. Children and teachers became happy together; difficulties vanished as we proceeded, and at length my wife and I made up our minds to devote our whole lives to the perfecting of our plans, and the carrying them out extensively. The novelty of the thing drew numbers of visitors to a district, where the carriages of the nobility and gentry had not been seen before; but the labour to us was so greatly increased by this, that my wife sunk under it, and I was left with four young children, to prosecute my plans alone in the world.

From the day I caught the idea, that a great secret in teaching the young was to teach through the senses, the various implements now in such general use in infant schools, were step by step invented by me. Objects of all kinds were introduced, and oral lessons given upon them, to teach their qualities and properties, and amongst the various visitors most frequently present at such times, was the gentleman who has acquired fame by publishing "Lessons on Objects," which little work has elsewhere been highly commended by me, albeit it came forth into the world several years after the period I now speak of. To give such lessons I found it requisite to have the children altogether, so as better to attract their attention simultaneously. This was first attempted by placing them at one end of the room, but it was found inconvenient; then parallel lines were chalked across the floor, and they sat down in order on these; but though attention was gained, the posture was unsuitable. Cords were then stretched across to keep them in proper rank, and various experiments tried with seats, until they ended in the construction of a permanently fixed gallery of regularly ascending seats. This implement or structure has now come into almost universal use in infant schools, and, in fact, they are considered incomplete without one; and also they are in much request in schools for children of every age. To give an idea of number through the eye, I had recourse at first to buttons strung on strings across a frame, and this led to the substitution of wooden balls on wires, and other improvements through experience, until the arithmeticon, hereafter described, was fully formed. It having been found a useful instrument, the credit of contriving it has been impugned, by liking it to the Roman Abacus and Chinese Swanpan; but were those instruments like in structure, or designed especially to teach the multiplication table? if not, they are no more similar than "a hawk to a hand-saw." The former I have never seen, and the first time I saw one of the Chinese instruments was some five or six years ago in the Museum at Hull. The clapping of hands, the moving of arms, marching in order, and various other motions, all of which are now become the especial characteristics of an infant-school, were gradually introduced as circumstances or nature dictated, partly to obtain simultaneous action and obedience, and partly to provide that physical exercise which beings so young perpetually require, and which they are constantly taking when left free and unrestrained. It is not requisite to make mention here of the swing—the play grounds—the flower borders—and various other matters which are fully treated of in the following portions of this work, further than to add, that they are now generally adopted in schools, and especially in some of the principal training establishments in the British Empire. As these plans and instruments are used by a certain religious infant-school society, which professes to have imported its system from Switzerland, where such things never had their origin, I feel it necessary most emphatically to repeat, that they are entirely of my own invention.