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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 204
Chapter
19 - We Are Educated by Our Intimacies
Part III - Vocation
I could trace how various other affinities came about in the
lives of Ruskin and Wordsworth, but I don't have the space. All I can
do is to show the joy of pursuing each new interest after being
introduced to it, and then the resulting occupation in intense intimacy
that never ends
for the heart and soul. In these two geniuses, that
intense intimacy became their vocation, or career.
Turner's
Call to Ruskin
Ruskin's career began when,
'On my thirteenth birthday, February 8th, 1832, my father's partner,
Henry Telford, gave me Samuel Roger's book Italy, a Poem, and that determined
the direction that my life took . . . as soon as I saw Turner's
pictures, I
decided that they would be my only masters, and I worked to imitate
them
as best I could with careful pen shading. . . .
'Finally my father gave me a copy of the Turner painting, 'Richmond
Bridge, Surrey,' [possibly 'Richmond
Hill and Bridge', or this
one; Richmond Hill is in Surrey] not intending to start a collection,
but just so I'd have one, assuming that one would be all I'd ever need
or want to have.'
And here he talks about how he bought Turner's 'Harlech:'
'Any seeds of nobility that existed within me were all centered on
my love for Turner. It wasn't just a piece of paper I bought for
seventy pounds, It was a Welsh castle and village, and Mt. Snowdon in
blue cloud.'
pg 205
Sincere
Work
It wasn't until he was 22 that he produced what he considered his first
sincere drawing:
'One day, on my way to Norwood, I noticed a little bit of ivy winding
around a thorny stem. Even to my critical judgment, it seemed to be a
decent composition, so I decided to make a light/shade sketch in pencil
in my gray pocket notebook. I worked carefully as if it was a piece of
sculpture, and I liked it more and more as I drew. When it was done, I
realized that I had been wasting my time ever since I was twelve years
old, because nobody had ever told me to just draw what was really
there!'
Initiation
Later we hear the story of his real initiation:
'I took out my notebook and carefully began to draw a little aspen tree
that was across the road. Casually, but not lazily, I started drawing,
and as I drew, my casual air passed away. The beautiful lines of the
tree insisted on being recorded diligently. They became more and more
beautiful as each line rose among the others and took its place. With
increasing wonder every instant, I saw that they were composing
themselves using finer laws than any that men knew about. Finally the
tree was there on my paper, and everything I thought I had known about
trees before seemed to be nothing. From that point on, 'He has made
everything beautiful in His time' became my interpretation of the bond
between the human mind and the things it can see.'
A
Passion for Nature
Let's intrude on the bringing about of one more intimate interest.
We've seen how already young Ruskin has been exposed to mountains. Now
he's going to have his first view of the Alps. He, his parents and his
cousin Mary went for a walk on the first Sunday evening after they
arrived at the garden terrace of Schaffhausen.
'Suddenly--look! Over there! None of us had for a moment thought
that they would be clouds. They were as clear as crystal, sharp against
the pure horizon of sky, and already rose-tinted with the setting sun.
It was infinitely beyond everything we'd ever
pf 206
thought or even dreamed. The walls of Eden, if we could have seen them,
couldn't have been any more beautiful to us. Nothing could have been
more powerful, like gazing around heaven, or at the sacred walls of
death. For a child with my temperament, this was the most blessed
entrance into life.'
What about Wordsworth? How shall we trace that pure, gracious,
absorbing intimacy with Nature that was the master-light of all of
Wordsworth's seeing? He reveals--
'The simple ways of my childhood
Are mostly what first caused me to love
Rivers, woods and fields. The passion was
Still in its infancy, sustained by chance
With nourishment that came
Even though I wasn't deliberately looking
for it.'
We can't trace every step of Wordworth's growing delicate passion. We
can only look at a phase here and there. As a boy, he and some of his
friends from school were boating on Lake Windermere late one evening.
They decided that one of them, the 'Minstrel of the Troop,' would stay
behind on a small island:
'We rowed away gently, while he played his flute
Alone upon the rock. And then the calm
Still water effected my mind
With a weight of pleasure. The sky
Had never been so beautiful, the sight came into my heart
And captivated me like a dream.
In this way, my sympathies were broadened and
The daily common things I saw
Grew dear to me. I began to love the sun
Although not as much as I did later. Then I loved him as a pledge
And guarantee of this earthly life. It's a light
That we see and makes us feel alive.
It's not so much for the light and warmth that he shines on the world,
But because his rays
Made the morning hills so beautiful
And touched the western mountains with his glorious sunset.'
pg 207
The
Calling of a Poet
We can take one more look at this amazing child who, after he grew up,
believed that every child is born a poet in the same way that he was.
'I was seventeen.
At this time
Blessings seemed to surround me like an ocean.
The days flew by, the years passed.
I had received so much
From Nature and her generous soul
That all my thoughts overflowed with emotion
I could only be content when, with incomparable joy,
I felt the emotions of God spread over all these things:
Over everything that moves and everything that's still;
Over everything that, even though it may be beyond the reach of thought
And human knowledge, and can't be seen
By the human eye, yet, to the heart, it still lives;
Over everything that leaps and runs and shouts and sings
Or beats the joyful air; over everything that glides
Under the waves, and even the wave itself
And the powerful deep waters.
. . . If I ever fail to speak of you
With a grateful voice, you mountains and lakes
And waterfalls, you mists and winds
That live among the hills where I was born.
If I have been pure in heart during my youth,
If, even though I spend time in the world, I'm content
With my own simple pleasures, if I've lived
And communicated with God and nature, separated
From little upsets and unworthy desires,
It's you I have to thank for that gift.'
How
Little Snobs Are Educated
Before we leave the Prelude,
I'd like to draw your attention to Wordsworth's description of the
'child-studied' little snob of his days. Those were days when there was
a lot of soul searching and lots of theories about education.
'In order that common sense
Might test this system by judging its results,
Allow me to let common sense analyze this
pg 208
Example given faithfully.
Here is a child who never
Gets involved in quarrels because it would be
Beneath his dignity. His generosity, like a fountain,
Overflows with gifts. He doesn't have
A selfish bone in his body. None of the little
Flitting pleasures tempt him to do wrong.
Wandering beggars praise his name,
Animals recognize what a gentle person he is,
And fear, whether of real things
Or vague supernatural fears,
Don't bother him except when he dreams about them.
To make you even more amazed, look at how skilled he is
At spotting, how polished he is at noticing the ridiculous.
He knows what's inside the earth, and the names of the stars,
And he knows the policies of foreign countries.
He can spout off names of districts, cities, towns
All over the world, backwards and forwards.
He can sift and weigh information.
He questions everything.
He feels that he needs to grow wiser every day
Or else his life is wasted.
He takes note of every drop of knowledge
As it drips into the rippling pool in his heart.
He's like a tree growing unnaturally. Blame his gardener,
And pity the poor child.
Meanwhile, Mother Earth is sad
To find all the fun things she designed for him
Because she loved him
Ignored. In the woods, the flowers
Cry, and the riverbanks are depressed.
If only we had Fortunatus's Wishing Cap
Or the invisible coat
Of Jack the Giant Killer, or Robin Hood,
Or Sabra in the forest with St. George!
The child, whose love is here,
Could have one tremendous benefit:
He might be able to forget himself.'
Children
Have Affinities and They Should Have Relationships
I can't take the time to stop and collect any more
pg 209
of the lessons and insight from these two wonderfully educational
books, The Prelude and Praeterita. For now, it's enough if
we've seen how children attach themselves to the affinities they're
born with if they have the opportunity and proper freedom. Our role is
to make sure plenty of opportunities are freely provided at home and at
school. Children should have relationships with earth and water. They
should run, jump, ride, swim, and establish the relationship that a
maker has with material resources, and thy should do this with as many
kinds of material resources as possible. They should have treasured
intimate relationships with people, through face to face talking,
through reading stories or poems, seeing pictures or sculpture, through
finding flinthead arrows and being around cars. They should be familiar
with animals, birds, plants and trees. Foreign people and their
languages shouldn't be something unknown to them. And, most important
of all, they should discover that the most intimate and highest of all
relationships--the relationship to God--fulfills their entire being.
This kind of a plan isn't overwhelming because, in all of these things
and even more, children have natural affinities. As human beings find
their place in the universe, they put out feelers, trying to connect in
every direction that's suitable for them. We need to get rid of the
notion that the only way a child will ever know the 3 R's or Latin
grammar is to focus his education on these and nothing else. The truth
is, that for us as well as for our children, the broader our range
of interests is, the more intelligently we'll understand each one of
them.
Education
Isn't Aimless
But I'm not preaching to lazy people and claiming that education is
casual and aimless. Many great authors have written at least one book
about education. Sir Walter Scott's contribution seems to be Waverley.
pg 210
We're told that Edward Waverley 'was pretty much allowed to learn
whatever he wanted, when he wanted, if he wanted.' He seemed to want to
learn, and he was able to grasp things unusually quickly, so this kind
of approach to education seems justified. But he was allowed to grow up
wavering, so he remained like his name: Waverley. His life was marked
with instability and ineffectiveness. The way he was educated and the
results of that educated are described:
'Edward would throw himself eagerly into the books of whatever classic
author his tutor suggested. He would master the style enough to
understand the story. If he liked it or found it interesting, he'd
finish the volume of that author's books. But it was useless to try to
get him to focus on serious literary study, differences in idioms, the
beauty of well-chosen phrases, or artificial grammatical combinations.
'I can read and understand Latin authors,' young Edward protested, with
the self-confident and impulsive reasoning of a fifteen year old. 'Even
Scaliger or Bentley couldn't do much better than that.' Unfortunately,
while he was allowed to read only for entertainment, he didn't realize
that he was losing the opportunity forever to form good habits of
determination, hard work, control, self-direction, and the ability to
make himself focus his attention. And that's an art that's even more
essential than being intimately familiar with the classics, which are
the main object of studying.'
Waverley illustrates what
Ruskin says plainly: no matter what we do with our youth, it stays with
us
forever:
'The laws of prescription are so stubborn and so unchangeable that now,
looking back over my life from now at 1886, to my youth by the side of
a brook in 1837, viewing my entire youth, I discover that nothing about
me has really changed. Some parts of me have died away, and some of me
is stronger. I've learned some new things, and forgotten lots of
things. But I'm still the same me,
disappointed and rheumatic.'
pg 211
Strenuous
Effort and Respect
We've seen that both Ruskin and Wordsworth had the ability to work hard
at focusing their attention, which is necessary in order for a person
to be
receptive. It made each of them productive in his own area. Anyone who
wants to do a thing, whether it's baseball or portrait painting, has to
learn the rules diligently and gain skill with practice and effort.
It's true that work we love will override pain, but it's also true that
we won't be able to enjoy any of the affinities that are waiting for us
without strenuous effort and respect. You might think that a
bird-watcher has chosen an easy hobby. But that's not true. A true bird
lover is outside by 4 am to assist with the birds' uprising, or even
out at Hyde Park at 2:30 am to try and catch a glimpse of a kingfisher!
He lies in wait, hiding in secret places to watch the birds in their
natural habitat. He travels to far locations to see new birds in other
places in the world. He gives his attention, labor, love and reverence
to the study of birds. He gains joy in this, so maybe his effort is
unconscious, but the effort is still there.
Having
Buddies Has Its Responsibilities
Here's another example of an affinity: sociability. Most of us have
serious thoughts about what it means to be a true friend. But we tend
to take the social comraderie of our buddies too casually. We think
it's maintained sufficiently if we meet at parties, games, picnics,
etc. Boarding school boys usually know better. They've learned that
having buddies takes some good-natured give and take, teasing, help,
honest criticism, serious correcting when it's needed, loyalty,
confident and trustworthy leadership, reliable following, speaking the
truth, the ability to let others be first with no hard feelings, and
the ability to be first without being conceited. This
pg 212
calls for attention, effort, love and respect. But the effort is
overshadowed by the enjoyment of the relationship.
The
Angel Stirs The Still Pool
I'd like to make one more point. We remain faithful to whatever
affinities captivate us until death, or even longer. I'd like to say a
word about the 'advantages' of special
instructors and classes that a big city like London offers. [Too many activities aren't a good idea.]
I suspect
that it's most often the still pool
that the angel comes down to stir. A steady, unruffled routine of work
without privileged extras lends itself best to the angel's
'stirring'--which takes the form of what Coleridge calls a 'Captain
Idea,' striking our mind, and initiating contact with an affinity.
The
Highest Relationship
Neither The Prelude nor Praeterita has much to say about the study of
the highest relationship of all--the most profound intimacy that man's
soul can have. I think the best way I can close is with a quote from a
little book called The
Practice of the Presence of God which tells about the spiritual
life of Brother Lawrence, a barefooted Carmelite lay Brother in 1600's
Paris.
'The first time I saw Brother Lawrence was on Aug. 3, 1666. He told me
that God had done him a personal favor when he was converted at age
eighteen. It was winter, and he saw a tree that didn't have any leaves.
He reflected on the thought that, in just a little while, the tree
would have leaves, and then it would have flowers and fruit. This gave
him a higher perspective of God's power and providence, and that
impression never left him. This thought set him free from the world and
kindled such a love for God inside him, that he couldn't even tell
whether his love for God had grown in the forty years that he'd been a
Christian. He said that he had been a footman working for the treasurer
M. Fieubert, but that he was clumsy and kept breaking things. He wanted
to be
pg 213
allowed to go into a monastery because he thought that, there, he would
be punished for his clumsiness and other faults. In that way, he'd be
able to sacrifice his life and all its pleasures to God. But God
disappointed him. He had been perfectly content in that situation . . .
He said that, for him, scheduled times of prayer were no different from
other times. He retired to a secluded place to pray as his superior
dictated, but he didn't really need to do that because even his most
important duties didn't take his mind off God . . . He said that the
greatest pains and the greatest pleasures that this world has are
nothing compared with what he'd experienced of spiritual pain and
pleasure, so he didn't worry about anything and he feared nothing. The
only thing he wanted of God was to not offend him . . . He said that
he had experienced God's help so often on various occasions that, any
time he had business to do, he never thought about it beforehand. When
it was time to do it, he found all that he needed to do in God, just
like in a clear mirror. Lately he had acted like this, not worrying
about his affaiirs, but before, he had often been anxious in his
duties. When some outward business
distracted him a bit from thinking of God, a fresh remembrance from God
would come into his soul, and he'd be so inspired and transported that
it would be difficult for him to contain himself. He was more united
with God in his outward business than he was when he separated himself
for devotion in a retired place.'
'I want, I'm made for, I must have a God
Before I can be anything, do anything. It isn't just a Name
That I need, but the True Thing, with what proves that it's true.
In other words, I need a connection from that Thing to myself.
I need it to touch me from head to toe. When I feel this touch,
Then I'll take the rest with it, this Life of Ours!'
[adapted from Browning]
Paraphrased by L. N. Laurio
Please direct any comments or questions to me by emailing me at cmseries-owner at yahoogroups dot com.
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