Conventional wisdom would have it that grade-school education has steadily improved over the past century to reach the point where it is today. But a look at common school textbooks from the late 19th century calls into question that assertion. One could argue that in some ways the philosophy and methodology of education back then showed an acute understanding that was often rejected as education “advanced.” And the moral values taught in school, in ways that seem didactic and overwrought to us today, may have had a positive effect on society.
Among the books unearthed in the move to the new Hildreth Elementary School was a spelling book from the late 19th century. The 1886 text, “A Graded Spelling-Book,” by H.F. Harrington, offers a surprisingly enlightened view that seems to have been preceded—and succeeded—by less thoughtful ways of teaching spelling. The preface declares: “Old-style spelling books have fallen into merited disrepute. It is felt to be irrational and wasteful of time to drill children on words of whose meaning they have no idea and a large number of which they will never have occasion to use.”
An insistence on context
In what is obviously a reference to those “old-style” books, the author says that spelling lessons should not include words chosen according to the number of syllables or any other “artificial arrangement.” Instead, words that a child understands and uses should be introduced as the child advances in knowledge. In every lesson, spelling words should be presented in written context so a child sees their meaning and because there’s no point in knowing how to spell a word unless you are going to use it in your writing. The author declares oral spelling is of little worth. (So much for the much-touted spelling bee.) Spelling should be presented in interesting exercises and seen in connection with vocabulary and reading.
As promised, the lesson paragraphs are interesting and practical. In keeping with the author’s intent, most are about everyday things with words that children would actually use—days of the week, tools of a trade, kinds of trees, parts of the body, school supplies, a storm, making a bed.
Many impart, directly or indirectly, a standard of behavior, such as the following: “Rose is a wild, careless girl. She has soiled her frock and stockings and crushed her hat. No wonder she is ashamed.” Unlike poor Rose, Horace, despite his many shortcomings, has a redeeming trait—at least in the eyes of the teacher. “Horace is a wretched scholar. His writing is awkward, his painting is daub, in reading he drawls, in spelling he blunders, and he makes mistakes when he recites his language lessons. But he never gets angry when he is corrected.” Two girls who met a poor man and gave him their lunch are rewarded for their kindness when their father “patted their heads, kissed them, and called them his darling children.” Children should also be kind to old people, as two boys proclaim: “The old man is tired and lame, but we should help him on his way.” A child’s description of her grandmother is quite harsh, but she recognizes the importance of inner beauty: “My grandmother is bent and wrinkled. She seldom walks about but sits in her rocking-chair and knits. Her hand trembles because she is so old and feeble. She is one of the kindest women in the world and has hosts of friends.”
Some exercises are more direct in the moral message: “Our peacock is proud of his brilliant feathers and struts about the door-yard for the purpose of displaying them. He lifts them and spreads them out like a fan, But he is a poor silly bird to be so vain of his good looks. Inward truth is better than outward show.” And many end with an overt statement of what “this fable teaches.” One of those, “We should be bold in facing danger,” is said by a mother to her little boy who touched a stinging nettle rather than grasping it firmly. (One might say he was more discerning than his mother.)
Another tells the story of snakes who allowed a porcupine to find shelter in their cave. Annoyed by his prickly quills, they asked him to leave, but he replied that he was quite satisfied. The lesson here is that we should be cautious in the choice of friends. From the paragraph about greedy flies who get their feet stuck in the honey pot, we learn that “A life of pleasure often terminates in misery and ruin.”
Castors and bodkins
It’s interesting to note words we no longer use, or use differently: Students don’t have copy-books; we no longer set the dinner table with castor (superfine sugar) and salt-cellars; we don’t carry a valise to check when traveling; or have a bodkin in an ordinary sewing basket.
Lesson 47 makes one wonder why the author chose to use the following rhyme, which seems abhorrent to us today:
A baby at auction!
Who wishes to buy?
With small lovely features
And laughing brown eye.
To those who would purchase
We’ve only to say,
She’ll furnish you music,
By night and by day.
Surely there were other ways students could learn to spell “auction,” “laughing,” and “furnish.”
Next week: science, recess, and alcohol.
Editor’s note: Part 1 of this series, “Hogsheads and butts: Lessons from an 1840s textbook,” appeared in the June 11 issue of the Press.
