The Book of the Child: An Attempt to Set Down What is in the Mind of Children
9781465677815
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
Children have come into greater prominence during the last quarter of a century than ever before in the history of this country. Many things have been written about them, many things have been done for them,—some foolish and some wise, but all suggested by a newly aroused sense of the vital importance attached to their proper upbringing. It is, of course, true that the Cause of the Children has been used by both political parties for their own purposes, but, for all that, there has been a large amount of most valuable legislation on the subject during the last twenty years. The helplessness of children and their rights as citizens of this country have been better understood and provided for, while their impressionable nature has been realised, and the rigour of their training and discipline considerably modified. It may be that there has been too great a change in some directions. There may be a freedom of intercourse between children and their parents or teachers that borders on disrespect. But taking one thing with another the position of children has altered for the better, and it is no bad thing that few subjects have greater interest at the present day than that of Children. It is an interest, too, that has come to stay. Of a distinctly softening and refining nature like the taste for gardening, which has brought into the world so many books during the last few years, it is only now beginning to reveal its true importance, and it will increase as from year to year more people perceive its fascination and trace its results. Sixty or seventy years ago the chief interest in children shown by parents and teachers was of an extremely disciplinary nature. Many children were not allowed to sit down without permission when in their parents’ presence, and it was in many families the rule that the father and mother should be addressed as “Sir” and “Ma’am.” Teachers of both sexes ruled mainly by fear, and allowed no intimacy between themselves and their pupils. The rigour of such upbringing and education must have withered many a tender-natured child as a cold black wind in spring will shrivel the opening blossoms of the fruit trees. Among the working classes, until the Church began to establish its schools, the children grew up anyhow, and could in few cases read or write. Infant mortality and unhealthy conditions of childhood were prevalent. So much was this the case that in 1847, while little was yet being thought or written about Children, the Metropolitan Working Classes’ Association for Improving the Public Health actually put out a pamphlet on their proper rearing and training. This document had some considerable circulation, but its usefulness must have been greatly curtailed by the inability of so many people in those days to read.
