| CM SERIES HOME | CONCISE SUMMARIES | PARAPHRASED IN MODERN ENGLISH |
Charlotte Mason in Modern English
Charlotte Mason's ideas are too important not to be understood and implemented in the 21st century, but her Victorian style of writing sometimes prevents parents from attempting to read her books. This is an imperfect attempt to make Charlotte's words accessible to modern parents. You may read these, print them out, share them freely--but they are copyrighted to me, so please don't post or publish them without asking.
~L. N. Laurio
pg 68
Chapter
7 - An Adequate Educational Theory
A
Human Being
I've presented a working hypothesis to my readers that proposes that
man is a consistent whole--a spiritual being that has a physical body.
He's
able to respond to spiritual forces. His body is what he uses to
express himself, to take in information and impressions of his
environment, and to establish relationships with the world around him.
His will, conscience, affection, and reason aren't different entities
inside him. They're different things that the one person does.
His Capacities: Man is capable of relating to lots of things, so he has
different actions that he can do. If he has enough relationships with
his world, his
ability for personal growth seems to be unlimited and incalculable.
His Limitations: If he's deprived of all the relationships he should
have, he is unable to develop in those ways, although he never seems to
lose the potential to grow even in those aspects.
His Education: We also suggested that, once a relationship is made, it
leaves a permanent mark in the tissue of the brain. In other words,
pg 69
the physical impression that a thought or experiential memory leaves on
the brain has the potential to become a habit. About ninety percent of
our lives run according to habit. So, if we want to be successful at
education, we need to know something about the psychological and
physical aspects of habit. We need to know how to start a habit and how
to develop it. And we need to understand that a person being educated
has two tasks--forming habits and assimilating ideas.
How
Ideas Behave
Physiologists and 'rational psychologists' have helped us to understand
the foundation of habit so that now everyone can employ the concept of
habit development. The nature of ideas,
what they do, how they behave, the ability of ideas to impact brain
tissue and make a very real, physical impression--all of these things
are vague and we can only guess about them. But that's okay. Other
equally necessary facts of our existence, like sleeping and life and
death, are also things we can't explain. Every branch of science has
foundational facts that we have to accept without fully understanding.
When a working theory is needed, the best thing to do is to accept the
foundational facts that seem the most effective and adequate. So let's
just agree with Plato that an idea is its own separate being, a living
thing related to the mind.
No
One Creates an Idea by Himself
Apparently, nobody has the ability to come up with an original idea on
his own. Ideas appear to be the offspring of two minds. We sometimes
say,
'Such-and-such put it in my head,' and that does seem to be how ideas
work, whether they're simple or deeply profound. But, once an idea is
born, it seems to live forever. It might be painted into a picture, or
written
pg 70
into a book, carved into a chair, or simply spoken to a friend who
tells it to someone else, who tells it to still another person, so that
the idea goes on being spoken about indefinitely. Who can tell how long
an idea goes on and on? One of the most striking things that a history
student notices is the persistent way that ideas recur. The other
striking thing is that ideas sometimes elude discovery until the right
occasion brings them to notice. The children we birth physically will
die someday and be buried. But who knows what will become of the ideas
that are birthed?
Certain
People Attract Certain Ideas
Maybe we can indulge one more hypothesis. In the same way that ideas
pass from one mind to the next, an idea from someone else's mind means
nothing to us until it goes through a process of growth inside our own
mind. That's why different ideas seem to appeal to different people. It
isn't that ideas have minds of their own and indulge their personal
yearning to form into 'apperception masses.' It's because people have
inside themselves, probably by inheritance, what they need to attract
certain ideas. To help make it clearer, we'll illustrate the concept
with something visible. The relationship is something like pollen and
the ovule that it's supposed to fertilize. There are various random
ways of carrying the pollen to the ovule, but there's nothing haphazard
about the result. The correct pollen always gets to the appropriate
ovule so that the plant can bear seeds after its own kind. This is the
way people bring forth ideas according to their own personal kind.
The
Idea That 'Strikes' Us
The question is, how can an invisible, spiritual idea make a
real, physical impression on material substance--even substance as
delicate as brain tissue? We don't know. But we have a bit of physical
evidence that it does in the fact that
pg 71
we experience lots of physical reflex reactions whenever an idea
'strikes' us. Our eyes brighten, our pulse quickens, our color perks
up,
our whole body becomes more alive, capable, strengthened, no longer
weighed down under our burden of flesh. Every habit we've ever formed
originated with an initial idea. And every idea we receive is capable
of initiating a habit of thinking or doing. Every human has the ability
to communicate with others, and, after he dies, this ability can
outlive him in the work he's done or things he's said. Life is so
boundless! Once we recognize ourselves as spiritual beings, we're
convinced that God's Holy Spirit has the same kind of
intimate power that corresponds with the human spirit.
Expansion
and Activity of the Person
This crowd of ideas comes to us with order and purpose even beyond our
own busy efforts and good intentions. It's almost as if a new human
being came into the world with the potential to make an unlimited
number of relationships, but with a preference to certain of those
relationships. But ideas have no way of adapting to fit different
relationships. It's education's job to make sure that the person is
adapted to the relationships most appropriate for him, and to be sure
that the person expands and stays active. This is done with two things:
ideas and habits. Every relationship needs to be initiated by its own
'captain' idea (see Coleridge's Method), which must be sustained by
other appropriate ideas. These are infused onto the person's brain with
proper habits. This is the job we have before us.
To explain what I mean more clearly, I'll go over the story of Kaspar
Hauser,
pg 72
the 'child of Nuremberg.' They say that a unique experiment was tried
with him, although the experiment is cruel and should never be
repeated. The truth of the story has as much evidence as most of our
other data, but we'll assume that it's true if only because his
experience matches up with what we know of a infant's experience, or an
adult who is suddenly able to see for the first time in years! On May
28, 1828, a cobbler noticed a strange young man, about 17 years
old, leaning against the wall as if he couldn't support his
weight. He was uttering a moaning sound. When the cobbler came up to
him, he started moaning something incoherent. He had blond hair and
blue eyes, and the lower part of his face stuck out a little bit, like
a
monkey's. Those who watched him agreed that, although he had the body
of a nearly grown man, his mind was like a two-year-old's. Yet he
wasn't unintelligent--he immediately started picking up words and
phrases. He had a wonderful memory. He never forgot a face he had seen
once, and he never forgot a name. At first, he was placed in the
jailhouse for safe-keeping. The jailer's children taught him to walk
and talk in the same way they taught their baby sister. He wasn't
afraid of anything. After six or seven weeks, the townspeople decided
to adopt him as the official 'child of Nuremberg.' He was placed under
the
care of a schoolteacher named Friedrich Daumer, who attempted the
difficult task of developing his mind to better match his body. Later,
Dr. Daumer questioned the boy and found out a little about his life
before he had been found. This is what he learned: 'He doesn't
pg 73
know who he is or where he came from. He always lived in a hole where
he sat on some straw on the ground. He never heard a sound or saw any
bright light. He would wake up, go to sleep, wake up, and go to sleep
again. When he woke up, he'd find a loaf of bread and pitcher of water
beside him. Sometimes the water was nasty-tasting. He'd go back to
sleep again. He never saw the face of the man who came for him, but the
man
finally taught him to stand up and then to walk. One day, the man
carried him out of his hole' [and
that's when he was found in Nuremberg.] For months after he was
found, he refused to eat anything but bread and water. Even the smell
of meat, beer, wine or milk made him very sick. For the first four
months that he was with Daumer, his senses of sight, taste, hearing and
smell were hyper-sensitive and very acute. He could see in the dark,
and, in the daytime, could see farther than most people. Yet he
couldn't tell the difference between a real thing and a picture of the
thing. For a long time, he couldn't judge distances because he only saw
things in two dimensions. He thought balls rolled because they had
minds of their own and he couldn't understand why animals didn't use
table manners at the table like people. His sense of smell was so
sensitive that he'd get sick from the dye in his clothes or the smell
of paper. He could distinguish the leaves from different trees by
smell. In about three months, Dr. Daumer was able to teach him things
beyond the use of his senses. He encouraged him to write letters and
essays, and to use his hands to do all kinds of things, like digging in
the garden. For the next eleven months, he lived a simple, happy life
with Daumer, who was his friend as well as his teacher. Daumer noticed
that the acuteness of his senses gradually began
pg 74
to fade away, but he never lost the charming, compliant, child-like
innocence that had won the town's heart.
What
Nature Does For a Child
This is an example, although it's the only known instance, of what
Nature alone, unhindered, can do for a child. Kaspar Hauser came out of
his long confinement unusually intelligent, with intensely acute
senses, and a 'sweet, docile' disposition. This is an object lesson
that would be illegal to try again, and, unfortunately, it takes more
than
one occurrence to prove any hypothesis. But, at any rate, this is an
illuminating story, more fascinating because he emerged from his hole
in many respects like an infant. He knew nothing about the concepts of
round, flat,
far, near, hot or cold. He'd had no experience with those things. In
other respects, he was like a bright two-year-old. He had keen powers
of perception, an excellent memory, and a child-like sweetness.
Kaspar's story and our own personal experience prove that the work we
educators
do to 'develop the faculties' or 'cultivate the senses' is a waste of
time. Nature doesn't need our help in these things. Even in the worst
conceivable conditions, Nature can work wonders if we leave her alone.
What Nature can't deal with is our misdirected efforts that hinder
and impede her kind-hearted work. If left to herself, Nature presents
to parents and teachers a child in the same condition as
Kaspar--acutely
perceptive, keenly intelligent, sweet and morally teachable. Just this
one incident shows that Nature can keep a person innocently child-like
until they reach adulthood.
A
Child Has Every Ability He'll Ever Need to Serve Him
pg 75
Well, then, what is it that we, as educators, do for the child? We
obviously don't need to develop the person; the person is already there
and probably already has every ability he'll ever need to serve him for
his entire journey through life. Some day even the word 'education'
will be out of fashion, perceived as belonging to the days when
teachers thought their job was to draw the 'faculties' forth from the
child. Instead, there will be a new word for what goes on between
teachers and students--maybe something like 'applied wisdom.' After
all, wisdom is the science of relationships, and the thing we need to
do is to do our best to put students in touch with all the
relationships that are proper for them.
Fullness
of Life Depends on Establishing Relationships
We begin to understand what kinds of habits we need to help students
form, and that troubling question of what subjects children should be
taught. We no longer debate the benefits of a classical education vs. a
modern one. We no longer wonder whether it's better to master just a
few subjects thoroughly, or to get exposed to a smattering of lots of
different things. We realize that these questions miss the point. When
I discuss the relationships that we may initiate for a child, I'll
begin with what some might think of as the lowest rung on a ladder.
Let's assume that a baby is placed in this wonderful world for the
specific purpose of forming connections of intimacy, joy, association
and knowledge with all the living, moving things in that world, as well
as what St. Francis called brother mountain, brother ant, and brother
stars. A full life, and joy in existence, depend on establishing these
relationships. But what do we do instead? We
pg 76
think over the matter carefully. We decide that children will get
confused if they learn science in more than one or two fields. We ask
our friends, 'Which kinds of science will get the best grades on the
SAT?' and, 'What's the easiest science to learn?' We research to find
out which is the best science text in a specialized area of study. The
student learns what he's supposed to from the book, he listens to the
lectures, draws diagrams, watches demonstrations. The result is a
student who has 'learned' a science. He can regurgitate facts and
figures about that one specialized branch of science, at least, he can
for a while. But he hasn't gained any affectionate intimacy with
Nature. Let me describe what seems like a better way for the child.
The
Ability to Recognize
This child's parents understand that recognition is the first step in
intimacy. So they don't measure his educational progress only by his
proficiency in the 3 R's. They also want to know how many living and
growing things he knows by name, sight and habitat. A six year old can
eagerly note the sequence when each different kind of tree puts on its
leaves in the spring. He can tell you whether to look in the hedge, the
meadow or the bushes for meadow eyebright, wood-sorrel or ground
ivy. He won't think that flowers were made only to be picked, because,
'He believes that every flower
Enjoys the air that it breathes.'
He'll take his friends to see where the milk-wort grows, or the marsh
trefoil, or the meadow fern. He doesn't take the birds in the air for
granted. He soon knows when and where to expect the redstart and the
titlark each spring. He admires the water-skater and dragonfly as
interesting acquaintances. He's experienced the beauty of crystals with
sparkling eyes, and
pg 77
he knows what lime and quartz look like, although he may not have been
able to find them in their natural environment. He knows the lovely
pink of felspar and lots of other minerals.
Aesthetic
Appreciation
Appreciation for beauty usually comes after recognition. Notice how,
from the time he's little,
this young child tries to capture a flower's
beautiful color and graceful form with his own paintbrush. A wise
mother
is careful to make her child aware and appreciative of stylized art.
She has him look at a wild cherry tree from a distance, or a willow
tree with its soft pussy willows. Then she shows him how the picture on
a Japanese screen has captured the very look of the thing without being
an exact representation. When he compares a single pussy willow or
cherry blossom with the ones in the picture, he can see that the
pictures aren't attempts at exact duplication. From an early age, he
learns the difference between painting what we actually see, and
painting what we know is there even if we don't see it. He learns that
it's more satisfying to try to paint what is actually seen.
First-hand
Knowledge
Soon the child goes from nodding acquaintance to pleasant recognition
of familiarity, to real knowledge--the kind of knowledge that we'd call
science. He starts to notice a similarity between wild roses and apple
blossoms, a resemblance between buttercups and windflowers, and some
sameness between the large rhododendron and the tiny clustered heather
flower. At his mother's suggestion, he'll initiate his own research to
find out what specifically makes them alike--and then he'll discover
the concept of plant families. His little discovery is real science
because it came first-hand. In his own small way, he's like Carl
Linneus.
Appreciative
Knowledge vs. Exact Knowledge
All this time, the child is storing up delightful associations that
will come back to him and give him pleasure
pg 78
when he's an old man. With this kind of educated appreciation of things
from the beginning, his foundation of exact scientific data won't be
merely some dull facts picked up in text books to pass a test. He'll
want this information because a natural desire to know about it has
been planted in him. It works the same way with art appreciation. The
child who has been taught to really see will appreciate pictures with
an educated, discriminating eye.
How a
Child Sets Up a New Relationship
This is how a child goes to work setting up a new relationship: one
little seven-year-old girl was rowing in a boat for her first time. She
commented, 'There sure is a lot of crab-water today!' The next day she
remarked, 'There's not as much crab-water today.' When asked, 'How can
you tell when there's crab-water?' she answered, 'It's so tough, and
you can't get your oar through, and it knocks you off your seat!' Her
facts were all wrong, but she was getting a taste of real science and
would soon be on the right track. This is so much better than learning
from a text-book that, 'the particles which constitute water have no
cohesion, and may be easily separated by a solid substance.'
When we consider that our main moral and intellectual priority in life
is setting up relationships, and that the function of education is to
put children in contact with the relationships that are appropriate for
them, and to offer the inspiring idea that will initiate a
relationship, we understand that little incidents like the one I just
told are much more important than passing a test.
Paraphrased by L. N. Laurio
Please direct any comments or questions to me by emailing me at cmseries-owner at yahoogroups dot com.
|
CM SERIES HOME | CONCISE SUMMARIES
| PARAPHRASED IN MODERN
ENGLISH |