CHILDREN’S BOOKS
                             AND READING




                        _BY MONTROSE J. MOSES_

                FAMOUS ACTOR FAMILIES IN AMERICA

                LITERATURE OF THE SOUTH In preparation


                         _EDITED BY MR. MOSES_

                EVERYMAN A Morality Play




                           Children’s Books
                             and Reading

                                 _By_
                           MONTROSE J. MOSES


                [Illustration: Mitchell Kennerley Logo]


                               NEW YORK
                          MITCHELL KENNERLEY




               _Copyright, 1907, by Mitchell Kennerley_






                            TABLE OF CONTENTS


      INTRODUCTORY NOTE                                               v

   I. THE PROBLEM                                                     1

  II. THE RISE OF CHILDREN’S BOOKS                                   19
        I. Horn-books; Chap-books; New England Primer                20
       II. La Fontaine and Perrault                                  34
      III. Mother Goose                                              40
       IV. John Newbery; Oliver Goldsmith; Isaiah Thomas             46

 III. THE OLD-FASHIONED LIBRARY                                      61
        I. The Rousseau Impetus                                      61
       II. The Edgeworths; Thomas Day; Mrs. Barbauld and Dr. Aikin   76
      III. The Sunday-school: Raikes; Hannah More; Mrs. Trimmer     101
       IV. The Poets: Watts; Jane and Ann Taylor; William Blake     119
        V. Charles and Mary Lamb; the Godwins                       130

  IV. CONCERNING NOW AND THEN                                       143
        I. The English Side                                         143
             English Table
       II. The American Side                                        150
             American Table
      III. The Present Situation                                    162

   V. THE LIBRARY AND THE BOOK                                      166
        I. Children’s Books: Their Classification;
             their Characteristics                                  167
       II. The Library, the School, the Home--a Plea for Culture    180
      III. Book-lists and Book-selecting                            189
       IV. The Experimental Temptation                              195

  VI. APPENDIX                                                      200
        I. Book-lists Published by Libraries                        200
       II. A List of Selected Books for Children                    208
      III. Bibliographical Note                                     269




                           INTRODUCTORY NOTE


In the course of preparing the material for the following sketch, I was
brought into very agreeable relations with many persons whose practical
experience in library work proved of exceptional value to me. I wish
to take this means of thanking Miss Annie Carroll Moore, Supervisor of
Children’s Rooms in the New York Public Library, and Mr. C. G. Leland,
Supervisor of School Libraries and member of the New York Board of
Education, for every encouragement and assistance.

To Miss Caroline M. Hewins of the Hartford Public Library, Miss Frances
Jenkins Olcott of the Pittsburgh Carnegie Library, Miss Caroline
Burnite of the Cleveland Public Library, the Reverend Joseph McMahon,
a member of the Advisory Board of the New York Public Library, Mr.
Frederic W. Erb of the Columbia University Library, and to Mr. Tudor
Jenks, I am indebted for general advice.

In special lines, I had the privilege of consultation with Mr. Frank
Damrosch, Mr. C. Whitney Coombs, and Miss Kate Cohen for music; Miss
Emilie Michel for French; and Miss Hedwig Hotopf for German.

The librarians of Columbia University, the Pratt Institute, and the
Astor Library have rendered me marked service for which I am grateful.

I wish to thank the New York _Outlook_, _Independent_, and _Evening
Post_ for affording me opportunities to publish from time to time data
relating to juvenile books and reading.

Finally, I wish to fix the responsibility for whatever statements
are made in the way of criticism upon myself; this is only due to
those whose extensive knowledge of the subject is being exerted in a
professional capacity; and to those many authors whose books and papers
are indicated in the bibliographical notes.

                                                            M. J. M.
  NEW YORK, August, 1907.




                     CHILDREN’S BOOKS AND READING




                            I. THE PROBLEM

  _Any good book, any book that is wiser than yourself, will teach
  you some things.--Carlyle, to an unknown correspondent, March 13,
  1843._

    _Therfore I pray that no man Reprehende
    This lytyl Book, the whiche for you I make;
    But where defaute ys, latte ylke man amende,
    And nouhte deme yt; [I] pray thaym for youre sake._
                                  --_The Babees Book._


The field of children’s books is by no means an uninterrupted host of
dancing daffodils; it is not yellow with imperishable gold. In fact,
there is a deplorable preponderance of the sere and yellow leaf. Yet
there is no fairer opportunity for the writer than that which offers
itself in the voluntary spirit of a boy or girl reader. Here are to be
met no crotchets or fads, no prejudices or unthinkable canons of art.
Because the body is surcharged with surplus energy necessary to growth,
because the mind is throwing out delicate tendrils that foreshadow its
potential future, one realises how vital is the problem of children’s
reading, how significant the manner in which it is being handled.

At the outset, it is essential for us to distinguish between theory,
history, and practice. The field, with all its rich soil, is in need of
weeding. Not so very long ago, it lay unrecognised by the library, as
of sufficient importance for separate and specialised consideration.
But now, with the prominence being given to children’s reading-rooms,
the field needs to be furrowed. Let us not ignore the salubrious
under-stratum of the past; it has served its mission in asserting the
claims of childhood; it has both negatively and positively marked the
individuality of childhood, in a distinctive juvenile literature.
Perhaps the writers who were inspired by the Rousseau doctrine of
education, and those who abetted the Sunday-school movement of the
last century, were deceived in their attitude; for they considered
the machinery by which they hoped to mould character, rather than the
nature of the heart and soul upon which they were actually working.
A right action, a large, human, melodramatic deed, are more healthy
for boys and girls than all the reasons that could be given for them.
In literature for children, as in life, the moral _habit_ should be
unquestioning. All leading educators and ethical teachers recognise
this fact.

The whole matter simply resolves itself into a difference in viewpoint
between the past and present. Smile as we must over the self-conscious
piousness of early juvenile literature, it contained a great deal of
sincerity; it did its pioneer work excellently well. To the writer of
children’s books, to the home, where one essential duty is personal
guidance, to the librarian whose work is not the science of numbers,
but a profession of culture-distributing, some knowledge of the past
harvests from this field would appear indispensable. For the forgotten
tales of long ago, the old-fashioned stories represent something more
than stained pages and crude woodcuts, than stilted manners and seeming
priggishness; they stand for the personal effort and service of men
and women striving with staunch purpose in the interests of childhood,
however mistaken their estimates of this childhood may have been. These
books, to the library, are so much fallow material as a practical
circulating proposition, but they represent forces significant in
the history of children’s books. I would much rather see a librarian
fully equipped with a knowledge of Miss Edgeworth’s life, of her human
associations, together with the inclinations prompting her to write
“The Parent’s Assistant,” than have her read a whole list of moral
tales of the same purport and tone.

The immediate problem, therefore, necessitates a glance at this field
of children’s literature, and some knowledge of its essential details.
It involves a contact with books of all grades; it calls into play,
with the increasing number of libraries, and with the yearly addition
of children’s rooms, a keen discerning judgment on the part of the
librarian, not only as to child nature, but as to the best methods of
elimination, by which bad books may be separated from good, and by
which the best may preponderate. But the librarian is not the only
factor; the parent and the writer also come into account. They, too,
must share a responsibility which will be more fully determined later
on, but which now means that they both owe the child an indispensable
duty; the one in giving to the growing boy or girl most intelligent
guidance along the path of fullest development; the other in satisfying
this need--not in deflecting juvenile taste by means of endless
mediocrity and mild sentimentalism. It is an unfortunate circumstance
that the effects of mediocrity are longer-lived than the immediate evil
itself.

In the problem of children’s reading we must consider two aspects;
there is the bogey image of a theoretical or sociological or
educational child, and also the book as a circulating commodity. There
is the machinery of “The Child”; Dr. Isaac Watts shaped one; Jean
Jacques Rousseau another; the Edgeworths still another, and now the
psychologist’s framework of childhood, more subtle, more scientific,
more interesting, threatens us everywhere. But no patent has so far
supplanted the fundamental excellence of human nature. There are
assuredly demarkations and successive steps in elementary education,
but are not these becoming too specialised? Since we are dealing with
the Boy and the Story rather than with the Scholar and the Text-book,
with culture which is personal, and not with expediency, we needs must
choose the human model in preference to all others.

And so it is with the choice of the librarian. In dealing with books in
the bulk, there is a tendency to emphasise system above the humanising
excellence of what the books contain. After all the mechanical detail
is done, when the cover has been labelled, when the catalogue notation
has been figured, when the class distribution has been determined,
the librarian stands middleman in a threefold capacity. She is a
purveyor, in the sense that she passes a book over the counter; she
is a custodian, in so far as books need protection; she is the high
priestess, since the library is a temple of treasures, a storehouse
for our literary heritage. In any library, whether it be yours at
home, with your own books upon the shelves, or the public’s, with
volumes representing so much of your taxation on which you base your
citizenship, the rare companionship of books is one of their humanising
qualities. This is as much a truth for children as for grown-ups.

With the fear that there is an effort on the part of many to
crystallise reading into a science, comes the necessity to foster
a love of reading for its own sake. The democracy of books has
grown larger with the cheapening process of manufacture; while the
establishment of public libraries offers to every one an equal
privilege. In an assemblage of many books, a certain spiritual dignity
should attach itself to the utilitarian fact.

There is no definition for children’s books; the essential point is
appeal, interest. As far back as 1844, a writer in the _Quarterly
Review_ very aptly claimed that “a genuine child’s book is as little
like a book for grown people cut down, as the child himself is like
a little old man.” Peculiarly, there is a popular misconception that
an author of juveniles advances in art only when he or she leaves off
penning stories or fairy tales, and begins publishing novels. On the
face of it, this is absurd. Like any other gift, writing for children
cannot be taught; it has to be born. If possible, with the exception of
drama, it is the most difficult art to master, since its narrative will
not stand imitation, since its simplicity must represent naturalness
and not effort, since its meaning must be within reach, and without the
tone of condescension.

Professor Richard Burton has written: “A piece of literature is
an organism, and should, therefore, be put before the scholar, no
matter how young, with its head on, and standing on both feet.” This
injunction applies to all books. Where the classics excel is in their
very fulness and honesty of narrative. Can the same be said of our
“series” brand?

The writing of children’s books is more aptly phrased the writing of
books for children. There was a time when such books, as a class by
themselves, were unknown; yet boys and girls expanded, and perhaps
remembered more of what they read than they do to-day, although they
were not taught as much. There are some pessimists, not so unwise in
their pessimism, who believe that if less emphasis was bestowed upon
the word _children_, and more upon the word _literature_, the situation
would be materially bettered.

Can we recall any of our great men--literary, scientific, or
otherwise--who were brought up on distinctively juvenile literature.
A present-day boy who would read what Lamb or Wordsworth, Coleridge
or Tennyson, Gladstone or Huxley devoured with gusto in their youth,
would set the psychologists in a flutter, would become an object for
head-lines in our papers. There is a mistaken conception regarding
what are children’s books, in the best sense of the word. A standard
which might have excellent conservative results, although it would
be thoroughly one-sided and liable to false interpretation, could be
based on the assertion that those books only are children’s classics
which can be relished by a grown-up public. “Alice in Wonderland,” “The
Water Babies,” “Peter Pan”--such stories have a universal appeal. And
it is well to remember that at least five of the world’s classics, not
originally written for children, have been appropriated by them: “The
Arabian Nights”; “Pilgrim’s Progress”; “Robinson Crusoe”; “Gulliver’s
Travels”; “Baron Münchausen.”

With the reading democracy created by public libraries, there has
developed the need for this special kind of writing. Excesses have
unfortunately arisen such as made a critic once exclaim in disgust,
“Froissart is cut into spoon-meat, and Josephus put into swaddling
clothes.” While we shall, in the following pages, find many odd
theories and statements regarding simplification of style, it is as
well to be forearmed against this species of writing. Democracy in
literature is falsely associated with mediocrity. When one reads the
vitiating “series” class of story-book, the colourless college record,
the diluted historical narrative, there is cause for despair. But there
is no need for such cheapening. The wrong impression is being created
in the popular mind that literature is synonymous with dulness; that
only current fiction is worth while. And we find children confessing
that they rarely read non-fiction, a term they only dimly comprehend.
It is not right that a middle-class population should have relegated
to it a middle-class literature. Such, however, at the present moment,
seems to be the situation. And as a consequence all departments suffer.
Except for a very few volumes, there is no biography for children
that is worthy of endorsement, for the simple reason that the dignity
of a whole life, its meaning and growth, are subordinated to the
accentuation of a single incident. History becomes a handmaiden to the
slender story. Let those writers who are looking for an unworked vein
ponder this. The fictionising of all things is one of the causes for
this poverty; the text-book habit another.

The poet Blake sings:

    “Thou hast a lap full of seed,
    And this is a fine country.
    Why dost thou not cast thy seed,
    And live in it merrily?”

But, though we are repeatedly casting our seed in the field of juvenile
literature, we are not reaping the full harvest, because we are not
living in the land of childhood merrily.

Start as you will to treat of children’s books as the mere vehicle
for giving joy, and education will pursue you. Acknowledging all the
benefits that the moral tale and the instructive walk have bestowed, we
know not which to pity most--the child in a moral strait-jacket, or the
child observing nature! The terms we use in describing these writers
of a past generation are always the same; they are not prepossessing,
though they may sound quaint. We turn from such critical phrases as
“flabby treatment of the Bible,” “dear, didactic, deadly dull” Mrs.
Barbauld, Miss Edgeworth’s “overplus of sublime purpose,” to definite
terms of protest such as those of the “Professor at the Breakfast
Table,” condemning the little meek sufferers with their spiritual
exercises, and those of Emerson ending in his cry of “What right have
you to _one_ virtue!” The mistaken attitude, which has slipped from
the moral to the educational sphere, seems to be that self-development
is not just as important as prescribed courses. While the latter are
necessary to the school, the librarian must reckon differently; for, to
her, the child is not so much a class as a unit.

Elementary education is marked by the compulsory factor; in reading,
a child’s interest is voluntary. On the other hand, the severity of
a Puritan Sunday, the grimness of a New England Primer, developed in
childhood sound principles of righteousness; they erected a high fence
between heaven and hell. But the moral tale utilised “little meannesses
of conventional life,” suggested sly deceit and trivial pettiness; it
quibbled and its ethics were often doubtful. The reaction that followed
let slip a valuable adjunct in culture; to-day the knowledge of the
Bible in schools and colleges is appallingly shallow; this fact was
revealed in the results of an examination or test held by President
Thwing some years ago. Dr. Felix Adler, pleading from the non-sectarian
platform, asks for the re-establishment of ethics in our schools as a
study of social relations, and for the extended use of Bible stories,
shorn of religious meaning, yet robbed of none of their essential
strength or beauty or truth. The librarian has wisely mapped out for
her story hour such a course, gleaned from the parables, and from the
vast treasure houses of narrative abounding in both Testaments and in
fables.

Turn to your colleges and your schools, and you will find that,
generally speaking, there is dug a deep channel between literature and
life, which has no right to be. We should study our ethics as one of
the inherent elements in poetry and in prose. The moral _habit_ is part
of the structure of the Arthurian legends.

Since the time of Rousseau the emancipation of the child has steadily
advanced; in society, he has taken his place. No longer is it incumbent
upon him to be seen and not heard, no longer are his answers written
out for him to memorise. Mr. E. V. Lucas, in the preface to his
“Forgotten Tales of Long Ago,” calls attention to one story, “Ellen
and George; or, The Game at Cricket,” culled from “Tales for Ellen,”
by Alicia Catherine Mant, and in a characteristically droll manner he
says, “Ellen’s very sensible question (as it really was) on p. 184,
‘Then why don’t you send the cat away?’ is one of the first examples of
independent--almost revolutionary--thought in a child, recorded by a
writer for children in the early days.”

But the chains that have fallen from one door have been threatening to
shackle another. Where once children could scarcely escape the moral,
their imaginations now have no room for flight. Fancy is bestrided by
fact. We must give reasons for everything. When Artemus Ward was asked
why the summer flowers fade, he exclaimed, “Because it’s their biz, let
’em fade.” In nature study for children the general effect leaves a
deeper impression than the technical structure. We do not know whether
it is necessary to have Mr. Seton’s “Story of Wahb” vouched for as to
accuracy in every detail. The scientific naturalists and story-writers
are constantly wrangling, but there is not so much harm done to nature
after all. An author who wilfully perverts fact, who states as true for
the class what he knows to be a variant in the one coming under his
observation, should be called to account. Otherwise a human interest
attached to animals creates a wide appeal. But to use this vehicle for
exploiting the commonplace, and what properly belongs to the text-book,
should be condemned by the librarian. Mr. Tudor Jenks[1] humorously
declares: “We ask our little ones to weep over the tribulations of a
destitute cock-roach or a bankrupt tumble-bug.” And another critic of
an earlier age writes of those same children--“They are delighted, it
is true, with the romantic story of ‘Peter, the wild boy,’ but they
have not the slightest curiosity to know the natural history, or
Linnæan nomenclature of the pig-nuts he ate.”

The following pages have been written after some extensive
investigation. Within the past few years, about fifteen hundred of
the latest books for children have come to my desk; they have not
been without meaning for the present, or without connection with the
past. While it has not been the intention to write a full history of
children’s books, some idea is given of the extent and possibilities
of the field; the historical development is sketched in outline. There
is need for a comprehensive volume. In addition, an attempt is here
made to reconcile system with culture; to discover what the library
is aiming to do with juvenile readers in the community; to show the
relation which the Library, the School, and the Home, bear, one to the
other, and all to the child. Having carefully examined lists of books
recommended by libraries for children of all ages and grades, a limited
number of volumes, marked by an excellence which makes them worthy of
preservation, is recommended as suitable for boys and girls. These
titles are given in an appendix. The fault with most lists of this
character is that they too often represent the choice of one person. To
counteract this one-sidedness, the co-operation of an advisory board
was obtained, marked by wide experience, by an intimate contact with
and knowledge of the books considered, and by a desire to show a human
respect for the tastes of children.

There are certain phases in the consideration of the departments that
have been suggested by young readers themselves. The desire for books
about musicians, and for piano and violin scores, brought to light
the lack of any guaranteed assemblage of songs which, in variety, in
quality, in sentiment and imagination, might be called distinctive. The
interest in a certain type of drawing as shown by the juvenile demand
for Boutet de Monvel, Kate Greenaway, and Caldecott picture-books,
suggested the advisability of including a full list of these
publications.[2] One cannot approach the subject with any ironclad
rules, yet it is always profitable to heed experiments based on common
sense. The results of such experiments are but mileposts in the general
advance; they must not be taken as final. Yet it is well to experiment
in order to avoid crystallisation.

Children are entitled to their full heritage; education is paramount,
culture is the saving grace. Your memory of a child is the healthy glow
of the unfettered spirit. None of us want him with a book in his hand
all the time. We wish him to take the freshness of life as his nature,
to run with hair tossing to the wind. But glance into his eyes and you
will find a craving look that a ball will not satisfy, a far-away
expression that no shout from the roadside will change. It is the
placid gleam of sunset after physical storm, the moment of rest after
the overflow of animal energy. Children have their hero moments when
they are not of the present, but are part of that perennial truth which
is clearer-visioned in the past, since we have to dream of it. Kate
Douglas Wiggin claims that the book is a fact to a child. It should be
an idealising fact.

Not long ago a crazy man died, after having drawn up a will: his
world’s goods consisted of the wide, wide world; his legatees were
every living soul. He said:

“I leave to children, inclusively, but only for the term of their
childhood, all and every, the flowers of the fields, and the blossoms
of the woods, with the right to play among them freely, according to
the customs of children, warning them at the same time against thistles
and thorns. And I devise to children the banks of the brooks, and the
golden sands beneath the waters thereof, and the odors of the willows
that dip therein, and the white clouds that float high over the giant
trees. And I leave the children the long, long days to be merry in, in
a thousand ways, and the night and the moon and the train of the milky
way to wonder at.”

What thinks the teacher of such riches, what the librarian with her
catalogue number? A book is a fact, nay, a friend, a dream. Is there
not a creed for us all in the wisdom of that crazy man? Here was one
with clear vision, to whom fact was as nothing before the essential of
one’s nature--a prophet, a seer, one to whom the tragedy of growing
up had been no tragedy, but whose memory of childhood had produced a
chastening effect upon his manhood. Are we surprised to find him adding:

“I give to good fathers and mothers, in trust for their children, all
good little words of praise and encouragement, and all quaint pet names
and endearments, and I charge said parents to use them justly and
generously, as the needs of their children may require.”

And so, we ask, more especially the parent than the librarian, is there
not excitement in the very drawing out from a child his heart’s desire?
Imperative it is in all cases that book-buying should not be a lottery,
but more persistently apparent does it become that a child’s _one_
individual book upon the Christmas-tree or for a birthday should not
represent a grown-up’s after-thought.


                        =Bibliographical Note=

_The articles referred to in this chapter are:_

BURTON, RICHARD--Literature for Children. _No. Amer._ 167:278 (Sept.,
    1898).

CHILDREN’S BOOKS--[From the _Quarterly Review_.] _Liv. Age_, 2:1–12
    (Aug. 10, 1841).

THWING, CHARLES F.--Significant Ignorance About the Bible as Shown
    Among College Students of Both Sexes. _Century_, 60:123–128 (May,
    1900).


FOOTNOTES:

[1] Mr. Jenks, besides editing for _St. Nicholas Magazine_ during many
years a unique department known as “Books and Reading,” has written
widely on the subject of juvenile literature. See his “The Modern Child
as a Reader.” _The Book-buyer_, August, 1901, p. 17.

[2] An interesting field for research is that of the illustration of
children’s books. Note Thomas Bewick, John Bewick, etc. Of a later
period, Tenniel, Cruikshank, Doré, Herr Richter. _Vide_ “The Child
and His Book,” Mrs. E. M. Field, chap. xiv; “Some Illustrators of
Children’s Books.” Also “Children’s Books and their Illustrators.”
Gleeson White, _The International Studio_. Special Winter No., 1897–98.




                                           THE GROWTH OF JUVENILE LITERATURE

                                           A PARTIAL INDICATION, BY DIAGRAM


                                          FRENCH IMPETUS
                                                |
             +---------------------+------------+----------------------------------------+
             |                     |            |                                        |
             |                     |            |                                        |
    Jean de La Fontaine[6][7]      |     Charles Perrault[6][7]                Comtesse D’Aulnoy[6][7]
         (1621–1695)               |          (1628–1703)                           (1650–1705)
                                   |            |
                                   |            |
       ENGLISH IMPETUS             |            |
             |                     |            |
             |                     |            +--------------------+
        Horn-books                 |      Mother Goose               |
             |                     |                                 |
             |                     |                                 |
     +-------+                     |                          Oliver Goldsmith[3]-------John Newbery[3]
     |       |                     |                          (1728–1774)               (1713–1767)
     |       |                     |                                                          |
     |       |                     |                                                          |
Chap-books   |                     +------------+                                             |
             |                                  |                                             |
       New England Primer                       |                                             |
             |                      Jean Jacques Rousseau[6][7]                        Isaiah Thomas[4]
             |                         (1712–1778)                                        (1749–1831)
             |                                  |                                             |
             +----------------------------------+---------------------------------------------+

                                         DIDACTIC SCHOOL
                                                |
                                     Sarah Kirby Trimmer[3]--------------------------------+
                                         (1741–1810)                                       |
                                                                                           |
        +-------------------------+-----------------------+--------------------+           |
        |                         |                       |                    |           |
Joseph Jacotot[6][7][11]  F. Froebel[8][12]   F. A. W. Diesterweg[8][12]       |  C. G. Salzmann[12]
  (1770–1840)             (1782–1852)               (1790–1866)                |     (1744–1811)


    +---------------------+-------------+----------+----------+--------+-------+-------+--------------+
    |                     |             |          |          |        |       |       |              |
    |                     |             |          |          |        |       |       |              |
 Madame de      Arnaud Berquin[6][7]    |  R. L. Edgeworth[3] |  John Aikin[3] |  Thomas Day[3]      Maria
 Genlis[7]         (1749?-1791)         |     (1744–1817)     |   (1747–1821)  |   (1748–1789)    Edgeworth[3]
 (1746–1830)              |             |                     |                |                  (1767–1849)
    |                     |    Anna L. Barbauld[3][11]        |                |
    |                     |        (1743–1825)                |                |
    +---------------------+---------+-------------------------+                +-------+
                          |         |                         |                        |
                          |    Mme. Le Prince de        Hannah More[3]     tr. Mary Wollstonecraft[3]
                          |    Beaumont[6][10]           (1745–1833)                [Godwin]
                          |    (1711–1780)                    |                   (1759–1797)
                          |         |                    Patty More                    |             Dr. Isaac Watts[3]
                          |         |                         |                        |               (1674–1748)
                          |         |                BOOKS FOR THE POOR                |                    |
                          |         |                         |                        |                    |
--+-----------------------+---------+--+                      |                William Godwin[3]------------+
  |                                    |                      |                  (1756–1836)                |
Aikin                  Mrs. Margaret Scott Gatty[3]           |                 Mrs. Godwin[3]       William Blake[3]
                            (1809–1873)                       |                        |                (1757–1827)
                                                              |                        |                    |
                +---------------------------------------------+-----            +------+--------------------+
                |                                             |                 |                           |
           Peter Parley                                Robert Raikes[3]     Mary Lamb                 Charles Lamb[3]
          S. G. Goodrich[5]                              (1735–1811)       (1765–1847)                  (1775–1834)
           (1793–1860)                                        |                                             |
                |                                             |                      +----------------Jane Taylor[3]
          William Martin[3]                                   |                      |                 (1783–1824)
            (1801–1867)                                       |                 Mrs. Cecil            Ann Taylor[3]
                |                                             |               Frances Alexander        (1782–1866)
         SPURIOUS PARLEYS                                     |               (b. _circa_ 1830)             |
                |                                             |                      |                      |
          Jacob Abbott[5]                                     |                      +---------------R. L. Stevenson[3]
           (1803–1879)                                        |                                        (1850–1894)
               [13]                                     SUNDAY SCHOOLS                                     [14]
                                                              |
                +---------------------------------------------+---------------------------------------------+
                |                                             |                                             |
         Mary M. Sherwood                                 Manzoni[9]                               Catherine Sinclair[3]
           (1775–1851)                                    (1784–1873)                                   (1800–1864)


FOOTNOTES:

[3] Dictionary of National Biography. Gives further bibliography.

[4] Appleton’s Biographical Dictionary.

[5] Lamb’s Biographical Dictionary.

[6] Nouvelle Biographie Générale. Gives further bibl.

[7] La Grande Encyclopédie. Gives further bibl.

[8] Meyers Konversations-Lexikon. Bibl.

[9] Diccionario Enciclopedico Hispano-Americano.

[10] Influence of Perrault.

[11] Sister of John Aikin.

[12] Influence of Rousseau.

[13] American End of the Development.

[14] English End of the Development.




                   II. THE RISE OF CHILDREN’S BOOKS


  _I wish Mrs. Marcet, the Right Honourable T. B. Macaulay, or any
  other person possessing universal knowledge, would take a toy and
  child’s emporium in hand, and explain to us all the geographical
  and historical wonders it contains. That Noah’s ark, with its
  varied contents--its leopards and lions, with glued pump-handled
  tails; its light-blue elephants and ꓕ footed ducks--that ark
  containing the cylindrical family of the patriarch--was fashioned
  in Holland, most likely, by some kind pipe-smoking friends of youth
  by the side of a slimy canal. A peasant in a Danubian pine-wood
  carved that extraordinary nut-cracker, who was painted up at
  Nuremberg afterwards in the costume of a hideous hussar. That
  little fir lion, more like his roaring original than the lion at
  Barnet, or the lion of Northumberland House, was cut by a Swiss
  shepherd boy tending his goats on a mountain-side, where the
  chamois were jumping about in their untanned leather. I have seen
  a little Mahometan on the Etmeidan at Constantinople twiddling
  about just such a whirligig as you may behold any day in the hands
  of a small Parisian in the Tuileries Gardens. And as with the
  toys, so with the toy books. They exist everywhere: there is no
  calculating the distance through which the stories come to us, the
  number of languages through which they have been filtered, or the
  centuries during which they have been told. Many of them have been
  narrated, almost in their present shape, for thousands of years
  since, to little copper-coloured Sanscrit children, listening
  to their mother under the palm-trees by the banks of the yellow
  Jumna--their Brahmin mother, who softly narrated them through the
  ring in her nose. The very same tale has been heard by the Northmen
  Vikings as they lay on their shields on deck; and by Arabs couched
  under the stars on the Syrian plains when the flocks were gathered
  in and the mares were picketed by the tents. With regard to the
  story of Cinderella, I have heard the late Thomas Hill say that he
  remembered to have heard, two years before Richard Cœur de Lion
  came back from Palestine, a Norman jongleur--but, in a word, there
  is no end to the antiquity of these tales...._”--“_Michael Angelo
  Titmarsh on Some Illustrated Children’s Books_,” in _Fraser’s
  Magazine_ for April, 1846.


I. HORN-BOOKS; CHAP-BOOKS; THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER.

Previous to the impetus given to child study by the educational
theories of Rousseau, little was written intentionally for children
that would not at the same time appeal to adults. Yet there are
chapters still to be penned, stretching back into English history as
far as 1430 and earlier, when words of instruction were framed for
youth; when conduct, formality, austere manners, complete submission,
were not only becoming to the child, but were forced upon him.[15]

There are several manuscripts extant of that year, 1430, one whose
authorship is ascribed to John Lydgate and which bears the Latin title,
“Puer ad Mensam.” There is also the “Babees Book” of 1475, intended
for those boys of royal blood who served as pages in the palace. The
American student has to reach an understanding of the purport of most
of these treatises from secondary sources; the manuscripts are not
easily accessible, and have so far been utilised only in a fragmentary
character. For the present purpose, the mention of a few examples will
suffice.

We note “A Booke in Englyssh metre, of the great marchaunt man called
Dyves Pragmaticus, very pretye for chyldren to rede; wherby they may
the better, and more readyer rede and wryte Wares and Implementes in
this worlde contayned.... When thou sellest aught unto thy neighbour,
or byest anything of him, deceave not, nor oppresse him, etc. Imprinted
at London in Aldersgate strete by Alexander Lacy, dwellyng beside the
Wall. The XXV. of April 11, 1563.”[16]

Those boys bound out or apprenticed to members of the Middle Age crafts
and guilds perhaps benefited by the moral of this; no doubt they
bethought themselves of the friendly warning, whenever they cried their
master’s wares outside the stalls; perhaps they were forearmed as well
as forewarned by the friendly rules contained in the “Books of Good
Manners” (1560) which, though they could not own, were repeated to
them by others more fortunate. These same boys, who played the angels
in the miracle plays, and the Innocents in the “Rachel” dramas, who
were held suspended by a rope high up in the nave of the church, to
proclaim the birth of the Lord in the Christmas cycles, were actors
also, around 1563, in “A New Enterlude for Chyldren to Play, named
Jacke Jugeler, both wytte, and very playsent.”

Fundamentally, the boys of the early centuries must have been not
unlike the boys of all ages, although the customs of an age usually
stunt whatever is not in conformity with the times. He who, in 1572,
was warned in “Youth’s Behaviour” (“or, Decency in Conversation Amongst
Men, Composed in French by Grave Persons, for the use and benefit of
their youth, now newly turned into English, by Francis Hawkins, nephew
to Sir Thomas Hawkins. The tenth impression.”), was likewise warned in
the New-England township, and needs to be warned to-day. No necessity
to paint the picture in more definite colours than those emanating from
the mandates direct. “Hearing thy Master, or likewise the Preacher,
wriggle not thyself, as seeming unable to contain thyself within thy
skin.” Uncomfortable in frills or stiff collars, and given no backs to
benches, the child was doomed to a dreary sermon full of brimstone and
fire; he was expected, “in yawning, [to] howl not.” The translation,
it will be remarked, was made by Master Francis when he had scarce
attained the age of eight; this may be considered precocious, but, when
French was more the official language than English, it was necessary
that all persons of any distinction should have a mastery of the polite
tongue, even though they might remain not so well equipped in the
language of learning.[17] Hawkins was therefore carefully exercised and
the translation became a task in a twofold way. His uncle soon followed
the first section of “Youth’s Behaviour” with a second part, intended
for girls.

Poor starved souls of those young gentlewomen of the sixteenth century,
who were recommended, for their entertainment in hours of recreation,
to read “God’s Revenge against Murther; and the Arcadia of Sir Philip
Sydney; Artemidorus, his Interpretation of Dreams. And for the business
of their devotion, there is an excellent book entitled Taylor’s Holy
Living and Dying; The Duty of Man in which the Duty to God and man are
both comprehended.” Such guidance is not peculiar alone to this period.
It was followed, in slightly simplified form, throughout the didactic
school of writing.

Fortunately we are able, by means of our historical imagination, to
fill up the interstices of this grave assemblage with something of
a more entertaining character; we have a right to include the folk
tales, the local legends and hero deeds which have descended to us
through countless telling. Romance and interest still lie buried in
annals which might be gathered together, dealing with the lives of
those nurses who reared ancient kings. As a factor in the early period
of children’s literature, the grandam is of vast meaning.

About the time of which we have just been speaking, as early as
1570, little folks began learning their letters from horn-books and
“battle-dores.” Take an abacus frame and transfer the handle to one of
its sides as a base. Within the frame insert a single leaf of thick
cardboard, on one side of which place the alphabet, large and small,
lettered heavily in black. Then, with the regularity of a regiment,
string out three or four slender columns of monosyllables. Do we not
here detect the faint glimmer of our college song, “b-a, ba; b-e,
be; b-i, bi; babebi”? Should one side not hold all this, use both,
although it is not preferable to do so. However, it _is_ essential
that ample room be left in any case for the inclusion of the Lord’s
Prayer. When this is done, slip over the face of the cardboard a
clear piece of diaphanous horn, in default of which isinglass will
suffice. Through the handle bore a hole, into which run a string.
Finally, attach your handiwork to a girdle or belt, and behold, you
are transformed into a school child of the Middle Ages! Your abacus
has become a horn-book, quite as much by reason of its horn surface,
as because of its essential use. Should you be looking for historical
accuracy, let the “Christ-cross” precede the alphabet, whence it will
become apparent why our letters are often styled the Criss-cross row.
Flourishing until some time during the reign of George II, these
curiosities are now rare indeed. There is little of an attractive
nature in such a “lesson-book,” but childhood had its compensations,
for there is preserved the cheerful news that horn-books were often
made of gingerbread. Were these the forebears of our animal crackers or
our spiced alphabets?

A survey of chap-books[18] presents a picture of literature trying to
be popular; we find all classes of people being catered to, young and
old, rich and poor. The multitude of assorted pamphlets reflects the
manners, the superstitions, the popular customs of rustics; the stories
stretch from the humourous to the strictly religious type. There are
many examples preserved, for not until well on in the nineteenth
century were chap-books supplanted in favour. To-day, the largest
collection that the world possesses, garnered by Professor Child, is to
be found in the Harvard University Library; but the Bodleian and the
British Museum claim to be richer in early examples, extending back to
1598.

Charles Gerring, calling the chap-books “uninviting, poor, starved
things,” yet lays before readers not an unwholesome array of goods. He
writes:

“For the lads, there were tales of action, of adventure, sometimes
truculently sensational; for the girls were stories of a more domestic
character; for the tradesmen, there was the ‘King and the Cobbler,’
or ‘Long Tom the Carrier’; for the soldier and the sailor, ‘Admiral
Blake,’ ‘Johnny Armstrong,’ and ‘Chevy Chase’; for the lovers, ‘Patient
Grissil’ and ‘Delights for Young Men and Maids’; for the serving-lad,
‘Tom Hickathrift’[19] and ‘Sir Richard Whittington’; while the
serving-maid then, as now, would prefer ‘The Egyptian Fortune Teller,’
or ‘The Interpretation of Dreams and Moles.’”

Every phase of human nature was thus served up for a penny. In those
days, people were more apt to want tales with heroes and heroines
of their own rank and station; a certain appropriateness in this way
was satisfied. Such correspondence was common as early as 1415, when
a mystery play was presented by the crafts, and the Plasterers were
given the “Creation of the World” to depict, while the Chandlers were
assigned the “Lighting of the Star” upon the birth of Christ.

There were to be had primers, song-books, and joke-books; histories,
stories, and hero tales. Printed in type to ruin eyes, pictured in
wood-cuts to startle fancy and to shock taste--for they were not always
suited to childhood--these pamphlets, 2½″ × 3½″, sometimes 5½″ × 4¼″
in size, and composed of from four to twenty-four pages, served a
useful purpose. They placed literature within reach of all who could
read. Queer dreams, piety of a pronounced nature, jests with a ribald
meaning, and riddles comprised the content of many of them. A child who
could not buy a horn-book turned to the “battle-dore” with his penny--a
crude sheet of cardboard, bicoloured and folded either once or twice,
with printing on both sides; the reading matter was never-failingly the
same in these horn-books and “battle-dores,” although sometimes the
wood-cuts varied. A horn-book is recorded with a picture of Charles I
upon it.

The sixteenth or seventeenth-century boy could own his “Jack and the
Giants” and “Guy of Warwick,” his “Hector of Troy” and “Hercules of
Greece”; he could even have the latest imported novelty. Some believe
that because Shakespeare based many of his plays upon Continental
legends, a demand was started for such chap-books as “Fortunatus,”
“Titus Andronicus,” or “Valentine and Orson.” The printers of these
crude booklets were on the alert for every form of writing having
a popular appeal; there was rivalry among them as there is rivalry
among publishers to-day. Not long after the appearance of the English
translation of Perrault’s “Tales of Mother Goose,” each one of them,
given a separate and attractive form--“Blue-beard” in awful ferocity,
“Cinderella” in gorgeous apparel, and the others--was made into a
chap-book. In Ashton, we find mention of an early catalogue “of Maps,
Prints, Copy-books, Drawing-books, Histories, Old Ballads, Patters,
Collections, etc., printed and sold by Cluer Dicey and Richard Marshall
at the Printing-Office in Aldermary (4) Church Yard, London. Printed in
the year MDCCLXIV.” These men appear to have been important chap-book
publishers.

The hawkers, who went through the streets and who travelled the
country-side, much as our pioneer traders were accustomed to do, were
termed chapmen. They were eloquent in the manner of describing their
display; they were zealous as to their line of trade. Imagine, if you
will, the scene in some isolated village--the wild excitement when the
good man arrived. He was known to Piers Plowman in 1362, he perhaps
wandered not far away from the Canterbury Pilgrims; each of Chaucer’s
Tales might well be fashioned as a chap-book. Along the dusty highway
this old-time peddler travelled, with packet on his back and a stout
staff in hand--such a character maybe as Dougal Grahame, hunch-backed
and cross-eyed--by professions, a town crier and bellman, as well as a
trader in literature. On his tongue’s tip he carried the latest gossip;
he served as an instrument of cross-fertilisation, bringing London-town
in touch with Edinburgh or Glasgow, and with small hamlets on the way.

“Do you wish to know, my lady,” he would ask, “how fares the weather
on the morrow?” From the depths of his packet he would draw “The
Shepherd’s Prognostication” (1673), wherein is told that “the
blust’ring and noise of leaves and trees and woods, or _other places_
is a token of foul weather.” “And prithee, mistress,” he would add,
“I have a warning herein for you. A mole on the forehead denotes fair
riches, but yonder brown spot on your eyebrow bids me tell you to
refrain from marriage, for if he marry you, he shall have seven wives
in his life-time!”

Many a modern reader would be interested in the detailed directions
given for falling in love and for falling out again; for determining
whom fate had decreed as the husband, or who was to be the wife. It
is more wholesome in these days to name the four corners of a bedroom
than to submit to the charm of a pared onion, wrapped in a kerchief and
placed on the pillow; yet the two methods must be related.

For the little ones, there were picture-books in bright colours, smug
in their anachronisms. The manufacturers of chap-books never hesitated
to use the same wood-cuts over and over again; Queen Anne might figure
in a history, but she served as well in the capacity of Sleeping
Beauty; more appropriate in its historical application seems to have
been the appearance of Henry VIII as Jack the Giant-Killer.

The subject of chap-books is alluring; the few elements here noted
suggest how rich in local colour the material is. Undoubtedly the roots
of juvenile literature are firmly twined about these penny sheets.
Their circulation is a matter that brings the social student in touch
with the middle-class life. Not only the chap-books and the horn-books,
but the so-called Garlands, rudimentary anthologies of popular poems
and spirited ballads, served to relieve the drudgery of commonplace
lives, toned the sluggish mind by quickening the imagination. A curious
part of the history of these Garlands is their sudden disappearance,
brought about by two types of hawkers, known as the “Primers-up” and
“Long-Song Sellers,” who peddled a new kind of ware.

The Primers-up are relatives of our city venders. They clung to
corners, where dead walls gave them opportunity to pin their literature
within sight of the public. Wherever there happened to be an unoccupied
house, one of these fellows would be found with his songs, coarse,
sentimental, and spirited, cut in slips a yard long--three yards for a
penny. Thus displayed, he would next open a gaudy umbrella, upon the
under side of which an art gallery of cheap prints was free to look
upon. Conjure up for yourselves the apprentice peering beneath the
large circumference of such a gingham tent.

Across the way, the Long-Song Sellers marched up and down, holding
aloft stout poles, from which streamed varied ribbons of verse--rhythm
fluttering in the breeze--and yelling, “Three yards a penny, songs,
beautiful songs, nooest songs.”

It is apparent that much of the horn-book is incorporated in the
“New England Primer,” although the development of the latter may be
considered independently. The Primer is an indispensable part of
Puritan history in America, despite the fact that its source extends
as far back as the time of Henry VIII, when it was probably regarded
more in the light of a devotional than of an educational book. The
earliest mention of it in New England was that published in the Boston
_Almanac_ of 1691, when Benjamin Harris, bookseller and printer,
called attention to its second impression.[20] Before that, in 1685,
Samuel Green, a Boston printer, issued a primer which he called “The
Protestant Teacher for Children,” and a copy of which may be seen
in the library of the American Antiquarian Society of Worcester,
Massachusetts. The title would indicate also that in America the primer
for children at first served the same purpose as the morality play for
adults in England; it was a vehicle for religious instruction.

The oldest existent copy of the New England Primer bears the imprint
of Thomas Fleet, son-in-law of the famous Mrs. Goose, of whom we shall
speak later. This was in 1737. Before then, in 1708, Benjamin Eliot of
Boston, probably encouraged by earlier editions of primers, advertised
“The First Book for Children; or, The Compleat School-Mistress”;
and Timothy Green in 1715 announced “A Primer for the Colony of
Connecticut; or, an Introduction to the True Reading of English. To
which is added Milk for Babes.” This latter title suggests the name of
the Reverend John Cotton, and, furthermore, the name of Cotton Mather,
one of the austere writers, as the titles of his books alone bear
witness.

Six copies of the New England Primer lay before me, brown paper covers,
dry with age; blue boards, worn with much handling; others in gray
and green that have faded like the age which gave them birth. The boy
who brought them to me wore a broad smile upon his face; perhaps he
was wondering why I wished such toy books, no larger than 3¼″ × 2½″.
He held them all in one hand so as to show his superior strength. Yet
had he been taken into the dark corridor between the book stacks, and
had he been shown the contents of those crinkly leaves, there might
have crept over him some remnant of the feeling of awe which must
have seized the Colonial boy and girl. What would he have thought
of the dutiful child’s promises, or of the moral precepts, had they
been read to him? Would he have shrunk backward at the description
of the bad boy? Would he have beamed with youthful hope of salvation
upon the picture of the good boy? It is doubtful whether the naughty
girls, called “hussies,” ever reformed; it is doubtful whether they
ever wanted to be the good girl of the verses. That smiling boy of the
present would have turned grave over the cut of Mr. John Rogers in the
flames, despite the placid expression of wonderful patience over the
martyr’s face; his knees would have trembled at the sombre meaning of
the lines:

    “I in the burial place may see
      Graves shorter far than I;
    From death’s arrest no age is free,
      Young children too may die.”

The New England Primers[21] were called pleasant guides; they taught
that the longest life is a lingering death. There was the fear instead
of the love of God in the text, and yet the type of manhood fostered
by such teaching was no wavering type, no half-way spirit. The
Puritan travelled the narrow road, but he faced it, however dark the
consequences.

Sufficient has been said to give some idea of the part occupied by
these early publications--whether horn-book, chap-book, or primer. They
bore an intimate relation to the life of the child; they were, together
with the Almanack, which is typified by that of “Poor Richard,” and
with the Calendar, part of a development which may be traced, with
equal profit, in England, Scotland, France, and Germany. Their full
history is fraught with human significance.


II. LA FONTAINE AND PERRAULT.

Folk-lore stretches into the Valhalla of the past; our heritage
consists of an assemblage of the heroic through all ages. A history
of distinctive books for children must enter into minute traceries
of the golden thread of legend, fable, and belief, of romance and
adventure; it must tell of the wanderings of rhyme and marvel, under
varied disguises, from mouth to mouth, from country to country, naught
of richness being taken away from them, much of new glory being added.
But for our immediate purposes, we imagine all this to be so; we take
it for granted that courtier and peasant have had their fancies. The
tales told to warriors are told to children, and in turn by nurses to
these children’s children. The knight makes his story by his own action
in the dark forest, or in the king’s palace; he appears before the hut
of the serf, and his horse is encircled by a magic light. The immortal
hero is kept immortal by what is heroic in ourselves.

Jean de La Fontaine (1621–1695) was a product of court life; and the
fable was the literary form introduced to amuse the corsaged ladies
of Versailles. La Fontaine was the cynic in an age of hypocrisy and
favouritism, and one cannot estimate his work fully, apart from the
social conditions fostering it. He was steeped in French lore, and in
a knowledge of the popular tales of the Middle Ages. He was licentious
in some of his writing, and wild in his living; he was a friend of
Fouquet, and he knew Molière, Racine, and Boileau. He was a brilliant,
unpractical satirist, who had to be supported by his friends, and who
was elected to the Academy because his monarch announced publicly that
he had promised to behave. Toward the end of his life he atoned for his
misdemeanours by a formal confession.

There was much of the child heart in La Fontaine, and this
characteristic, together with the spleen which develops in every
courtier, aided him in his composition of the Fables. Unclean his
tales may be, likened to Boccaccio, but the true poet in him produced
incomparable verses which have been saved for the present and will live
far into the future because of the universality of their moral. The
wolf and dog, the grasshopper and ant, all moved in silks and satins at
the court of Louis XIV, and bowed for social rank, some trailing their
pride in the dust, others raised to high position through the fortune
of unworthy favour. So successfully did La Fontaine paint his pictures
that the veiled allusions became lost in time beneath the distinct
individuality of the courtiers’ animal prototypes. The universal in La
Fontaine is like the universal in Molière and Shakespeare, but it has a
wider appeal, for children relish it as their own.

Another figure was dominant at the court of Louis XIV--one equally
as immortal as La Fontaine, though not so generally known--Charles
Perrault (1628–1703). He was a brilliant genius, versatile in talent
and genial in temper. He dabbled in law, he dabbled in architecture,
and through it won the favour of Colbert. With an abiding love for
children, he suggested and successfully carried the idea of keeping
open the royal gardens for young Parisians. Through Colbert he became
an Academician in 1671, and, with the energy which usually marked
his actions, he set about influencing the rulings of that body.
He was a man of progress, not an advocate of classical formalism.
He battled long and hard with Boileau, who was foremost among the
Classicists; his appeal was for the future rather than for the past.
He was intellectually alert in all matters; probably, knowing that he
possessed considerable hold upon the Academy, he purposely startled
that august gathering by his statement that had Homer lived in the days
of Louis XIV he would have made a better poet. But the declaration was
like a burning torch set to dry wood; Boileau blazed forth, and the
fight between himself and Perrault, lasting some time, became one of
the most famous literary quarrels that mark the pages of history.

After Perrault retired to his home in the year 1686, and when he could
have his children around him, he began the work which was destined to
last. Lang calls him “a good man, a good father, a good Christian, and
a good fellow.” It is in the capacity of father that we like to view
him--taking an interest in the education of his children, listening
to them tell their tales which they had first heard from their nurse;
his heart became warmed by their frank, free _camaraderie_, and it
is likely that these impromptu story hours awakened in him some dim
memories of the same legends told him in his boyhood.

There is interesting speculation associated with his writing of the
“Contes de ma Mère l’Oye.” They were published in 1697, although
previously they had appeared singly in Moetjen’s Magazine at the
Hague. An early letter from Madame de Sévigné mentions the wide-spread
delight taken by the nobles of the court in all “contes”; this was some
twenty years before Perrault penned his. But despite their popularity
among the worldly wise, the Academician was too much of an Academician
to confess openly that he was the author of the “contes.” Instead,
he ascribed them to his son, Perrault Darmancour. This has raised
considerable doubt among scholars as to whether the boy should really
be held responsible for the authorship of the book. Mr. Lang wisely
infers that there is much evidence throughout the tales of the mature
feeling and art of Perrault; but he also is content to hold to the
theory that will blend the effort of old age and youth, of father and
son.

The fact remains that, were it not for Perrault, the world might have
been less rich by such immortal pieces as “The Three Wishes,” “The
Sleeping Beauty,” “Red Riding Hood,” “Blue Beard,” “Puss in Boots,” and
“Cinderella,” as they are known to us to-day. They might have reached
us from other countries in modified form, but the inimitable pattern
belongs to Perrault.

Another monument preserves his name, the discussion of which requires
a section by itself. But consideration must be paid in passing to the
“fées” of Marie Catherine Jumelle de Berneville, Comtesse D’Anois
(Aulnoy) [1650 or 51–1705], who is responsible for such tales as
“Finetta, the Cinder-Girl.”[22] Fortunately, to the charm of her fairy
stories, which are written in no mean imitation of Perrault, there have
clung none of the qualities which made her one of the most intriguing
women of her period. She herself possessed a magnetic personality and a
bright wit. Her married life began at the age of sixteen, and through
her career lovers flocked to her standard; because of the ardour of
one, she came near losing her head. But despite the fact that only two
out of five of her children could claim legitimacy, they seem to have
developed in the Comtesse d’Aulnoy an unmistakable maternal instinct,
and an unerring judgment in the narration of stories. She is familiar
to-day because of her tales, although recently an attractive edition of
her “Spanish Impressions” was issued--a book which once received the
warm commendation of Taine.


III. MOTHER GOOSE.

There has been a sentimental desire on the part of many students to
trace the origin of Mother Goose to this country; but despite all
effort to the contrary, and a false identification of Thomas Fleet’s
mother-in-law, Mrs. Goose, or Vergoose, with the famous old woman,
the origin is indubitably French. William H. Whitmore[23] sums up his
evidence in the matter as follows:

“According to my present knowledge, I feel sure that the original name
is merely a translation from the French; that the collection was first
made for and by John Newbery of London, about A.D. 1760; and that the
great popularity of the book is due to the Boston editions of Munroe
and Francis, A.D. 1824–1860.”

It appears that, in 1870, William A. Wheeler edited an edition of
“Mother Goose,” wherein he averred that Elizabeth, widow of one Isaac
Vergoose, was the sole originator of the jingles. This statement was
based upon the assurances of a descendant, John Fleet Eliot. But there
is much stronger evidence in Perrault’s favour than mere hearsay; even
the statement that a 1719 volume of the melodies was printed by Fleet
himself has so far failed of verification.

The name, Mother Goose, is first heard of in the seventeenth century.
During 1697, Perrault published his “Histoires ou Contes du Tems Passé
avec des Moralitez,” with a frontispiece of an old woman telling
stories to an interested group. Upon a placard by her side was lettered
the significant title already quoted:

    CONTES
    DE MA
    MERE
    LOYE

There is no doubt, therefore, that the name was not of Boston origin;
some would even go further back and mingle French legend with history;
they would claim that the mother of Charlemagne, with the title of
Queen Goose-foot (Reine Pédance), was the only true source.[24]

Mr. Austin Dobson has called Mr. Lang’s attention to the fact that
in the _Monthly Chronicle_ for March, 1729, an English version of
Perrault’s “Tales” was mentioned, done by Mr. Robert Samber, and
printed by J. Pote; another English edition appeared at The Hague
in 1745. This seems to be the first introduction into England of the
“Mother Goose Fairy Tales.” It was probably their popularity, due not
only to their intrinsic interest, but partly to the speculation as
to Mother Goose’s identification, that made John Newbery, the famous
London publisher, conceive the brilliant plan of gathering together
those little songs familiar to the nursery, and of laying them to
the credit of Mother Goose herself. In so doing, he solicited the
assistance of Oliver Goldsmith (1728–1774). Mr. Whitmore writes:

“If, as seems most probable, the first edition of ‘Mother Goose’s
Melody’ was issued prior to John Newbery’s death in 1767, there is an
interesting question as to who prepared the collection for the press.
The rhymes are avowedly the favourites of the nursery, but the preface
and the foot-notes are an evident burlesque upon more pretentious
works.”

There are two small pieces of evidence indicating clearly Goldsmith’s
editorship. On January 29, 1768, he produced his “Good Natur’d Man,”
and with his friends dined beforehand in gala fashion at an inn.
Subject to extremes of humour, on this occasion he was most noisy,
and he sang his favourite song, we are told, which was nothing more
than “An old woman tossed in a blanket, seventeen times as high as
the moon.” As it happens, this ditty is mentioned in the preface to
Newbery’s collection of rhymes, without any more apparent reason than
that it was a favourite with the editor, who wished to introduce it in
some way, however irrelevant. Again, we are assured that Miss Hawkins
once exclaimed, “I little thought what I should have to boast, when
Goldsmith taught me to play Jack and Jill, by two bits of paper on his
fingers.”

Thus, though the tasks performed by Goldsmith for Newbery are generally
accounted specimens of hack work, which he had to do in order to
eke out a livelihood, there is satisfaction in claiming for him two
immortal strokes, his tale of “Goody Two Shoes,” and his share in the
establishment of the Mother Goose Melodies.[25] Many a time he was
dependent upon the beneficence of his publisher, many a time rescued by
him from the hands of the bailiff. The Newbery accounts are dotted with
entries of various loans; even the proceeds of the first performances
of the “Good Natur’d Man” were handed over to Newbery to satisfy one of
his claims.

The notes accompanying the melodies, and which have no bearing upon
the child-interest in the collection, show a wit that might very well
belong to Goldsmith. He was perhaps amusing himself at the expense of
his lexicographer friend, Johnson. For instance, to the jingle, “See
saw, Margery Daw,” is appended this, taken seemingly from “Grotius”:
“It is a mean and scandalous Practice in Authors to put Notes to
Things that deserve no Notice.” And to the edifying and logical
song, “I wou’d, if I cou’d, If I cou’dn’t, how cou’d I? I cou’dn’t,
without I cou’d, cou’d I?” is attached the evident explanation from
“Sanderson”: “This is a new Way of handling an old Argument, said to be
invented by a famous Senator; but it has something in it of _Gothick_
Construction.” Assuredly the names of those learned authors, “Mope,”
credited with the “Geography of the Mind,” and “Huggleford,” writing on
“Hunger,” were intended for ridicule.

By 1777, “Mother Goose” had passed into its seventh edition, but,
though its success was largely assured, there are still to be noted
rival publications. For instance, John Marshall,[26] who later became
the publisher of Mrs. Trimmer’s works, issued some rhymes, conflicting
with the book of Melodies which Carnan, Newbery’s stepson, had
copyrighted in 1780, and had graced with a subtitle, “Sonnets for the
Cradle.” During 1842, J. O. Halliwell edited for the Percy Society,
“The Nursery Rhymes of England, collected principally from Oral
Tradition,” and he mentioned an octavo volume printed in London, 1797,
and containing some of our well-known verses. These it seems had been
first collected by the scholar, Joseph Ritson,[27] and called “Gammer
Gurton’s Garland.” The 1797 book was called “Infant Institutes,”
semi-satirical in its general plan, and was ascribed to the Reverend
Baptist Noel Turner, M.A.,[28] rector of Denton. If this was intended
to supplant Newbery’s collection, it failed in its object. However, it
is to be noted and emphasised that so varied did the editions become,
that the fate of “Mother Goose” would not have been at all fortunate
in the end, had not Monroe and Francis in Boston insisted upon the
original collection as the authentic version, _circa_ 1824. Its rights
were thus established in America.

The melodies have a circuitous literary history. In roundabout fashion,
the ditties have come out of the obscure past and have been fixed at
various times by editors of zealous nature. For the folk-lore student,
such investigation has its fascination; but the original rhymes are
not all pure food for the nursery. In the course of time, the juvenile
volumes have lost the jingles with a tang of common wit. They come to
us now, gay with coloured print, rippling with merriment, with a rhythm
that must be kept time to by a tap of the foot upon the floor or by
some bodily motion. Claim for them, as you will, an educational value;
they are the child’s first entrance into storyland; they train his ear,
they awaken his mind, they develop his sense of play. It is a joyous
garden of incongruity we are bequeathed in “Mother Goose.”


IV. JOHN NEWBERY, OLIVER GOLDSMITH, AND ISAIAH THOMAS.

Wherever you wander in the land of children’s books, ramifications,
with the vein of hidden gold, invite investigation,--rich gold for the
student and for the critic, but less so for the general reader. Yet
upon the general reader a book’s immortality depends. No librarian, no
historian, need be crowded out; there are points still to be settled,
not in the mere dry discussion of dates, but in the estimates of
individual effect. The development of children’s books is consecutive,
carried forward because of social reasons; each name mentioned has a
story of its own. Two publishers at the outset attract our regard;
except for them, much would have been lost to English and American
children.

As early as Elizabeth’s time, Rafe Newberie, Master of Stationer’s
Company, published Hakluyt’s “Voyages.” From him, John Newbery
(1713–1767) was descended. Given an ordinary schooling, he was
apprenticed to the printer, William Carnan, who, dying in 1737, divided
his worldly goods between his brother Charles, and his assistant John.
The latter, in order to cement his claim still further, married his
employer’s widow, by whom he had three children, Francis, his successor
in the publishing business, being born on July 6, 1743.

Newbery was endowed with much common sense. He travelled somewhat
extensively before settling in London, and, during his wanderings, he
jotted down rough notes, relating especially to his future book trade;
the remarks are worthy of a keen critic. During this time it is hard to
keep Newbery, the publisher, quite free from the picturesque career of
Newbery, the druggist; on the one hand Goldsmith might call him “the
philanthropic publisher of St. Paul’s Churchyard,” as he did in the
“Vicar of Wakefield,” which was first printed by Newbery and Benjamin
Collins, of Salisbury; on the other hand, in 1743, one might just as
well have praised him for the efficacy of the pills and powders he
bartered. Now we find him a shopkeeper, catering to the captains of
ships from his warehouse, and adding every new concoction to his stock
of homeopathic deceptions. Even Goldsmith could not refrain from having
a slap at his friend in “Quacks Ridiculed.”

He made money, however, and he associated with a literary set among
whom gold was much coveted and universally scarce. The portly Dr.
Johnson ofttimes borrowed a much-needed guinea, an unfortunate
privilege, for he had a habit of never working so long as he could
feel money in his pocket. This generosity on the part of Newbery
did not deter Johnson from showing his disapproval over many of the
former’s publications. We can well imagine the implied sarcasm in his
declaration that Newbery was an extraordinary man, “for I know not
whether he has read, or written most books.” Between 1744 and 1802,
records indicate that Newbery and his successors printed some three
hundred volumes, two hundred of which were juvenile; small wonder he
needed the editorial assistance of such persons as Dr. Johnson and
Oliver Goldsmith.

One of the first pieces the latter let Newbery have, was an article
for the _Literary Magazine_ of January, 1758. Then there came into
existence _The Universal Chronicle, or Weekly Gazette_ in April, 1758,
for which Johnson wrote “The Idler.” In 1759, _The British Magazine
or Monthly Repository for Gentlemen and Ladies, by T. Smollett, M.D.,
and others_ was announced, Smollett then taking a rest cure in jail.
As though magazines could be launched in a few hours without sinking,
a daily sheet called the _Public Ledger_ was brought into existence
on January 12, 1760, for which Goldsmith wrote his “Chinese Letters.”
Between this date and 1767, Goldsmith resided in a room on the upper
floor of Newbery’s house at Islington, and the publisher’s son declares
that while there Goldsmith read to him odd parts of “The Traveller” and
the “Vicar of Wakefield.” This has not so much evidence to support
it as the fact that bills presented at the front door for Goldsmith,
usually found their way to Newbery for settlement.

How much actual suggestion Goldsmith gave to his publisher-employer,
how far he influenced the character of the books to be printed, cannot
be determined; he and Griffith and Giles Jones assuredly encouraged
the juvenile picture stories. An advertisement of 1765 calls attention
to the following: “The Renowned History of Giles Gingerbread, a little
boy who lived upon learning” [the combination is very appropriate in
its compensating qualities of knowledge and “sweets”]; “The Whitsuntide
Gift, or the Way to be Happy”; “The Valentine Gift, or how to behave
with honour, integrity and humanity”; and “The History of Little Goody
Two Shoes, otherwise called Margery Two Shoes.”

Though he could not wholly escape the charge of catering to the moral
craze of the time, Newbery at least infused into his little books
something of imagination and something of heroic adventure; not
sufficient however to please Dr. Johnson, who once said: “Babies do not
want to hear about babies; they like to be told of giants and castles,
and of somewhat which can stretch and stimulate their little minds.” A
thrust at the ignorance of grown people, regarding what children like,
is further seen in Johnson’s remark that parents buy, but girls and
boys seldom read what is calculated for them.

There are many to praise Newbery’s prints; they were more or less
oddities, even in their own time. Their usefulness was typified in such
books as the “Circle of Sciences,” a compendium of universal knowledge;
their attractiveness was dependent not only upon the beauty of their
make, but also upon the queerness of their _format_; for example,
such volumes as were called the snuff-box series, or ready references
for waistcoat pockets. Then there was the combination plan, indicated
in the announcement: “A Little Pretty Pocket-Book, intended for the
Instruction and Amusement of Little Master Tommy and Pretty Miss Polly,
with an agreeable letter to read from Jack-the-Giant-Killer, as also a
Ball and Pincushion, the use of which will infallibly make Tommy a Good
Boy, and Polly a Good Girl.... Price of the Book alone, 6d., with a
Ball or Pincushion, 8d.”

The variety of Newbery’s ideas resulted in every species of
book-publishing, from a children’s magazine (_The Lilliputian_), with
Goldsmith as the reputed editor, to a child’s grammar. Interested
one moment in a machine for the colouring of silks and cloths, at
another he would be extolling the fever powders of Dr. James, a whilom
schoolfellow of Johnson. He was untiring in his business activity. His
firm changed name many times, but always Newbery remained the dominant
figure. After his death, the business continued for some while to be
identified with its founder, and for a long period his original policy
was continued. Francis Newbery, the son, left an autobiography of
historic value.

Newbery’s real genius consisted in his trading ability. Modern
advertising is not more clever than that practised by this shrewd man
of the eighteenth century. Not only was he in the habit of soliciting
puffs, and of making some of the characters in his stories proclaim
the excellencies of his books, but the personal note and the friendly
feeling displayed in his newspaper items were uncommonly intimate.
Witness the London _Chronicle_ for December 19–January 1, 1765:

“The Philosophers, Politicians, Necromancers, and the learned in every
faculty are desired to observe that on the first of January, being New
Year’s day (oh, that we all may lead new lives!), Mr. Newbery intends
to publish the following important volumes, bound and gilt, and hereby
invites all his little friends who are good to call for them at the
Bible and Sun, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, but those who are naughty to
have none.”

Thomas in later years adopted the same method of advertising.

The most thorough piece of research work done by Mr. Charles Welsh
is his “A Bookseller of the Last Century.” Had he aimed at nothing
more than preserving the catalogue of Newbery’s books, he would have
rendered a great service to the library student. But he has in
addition written a very complete life of Newbery. When it is noted that
this printer was brought into business relations with Robert Raikes,
and was further connected with him by the union of Newbery’s son with
Raikes’ sister, it is safe to believe that some of the piousness which
crept into the publisher’s wares was encouraged by the zealous spirit
of the founder of Sunday-schools. Raikes will be dealt with in his
proper place.

Newbery was what may be termed an enthusiastic publisher, a careful
manufacturer of books of the flower-and-gilt species. As a friend he
has been pictured nothing loath to help the needy, but always with
generous security and heavy interest attached; he was a business man
above all else, and that betokens keenness for a bargain, a keenness
akin to cleverness rather than to graciousness. In his “Life of
Goldsmith,” Washington Irving is inclined to be severe in his estimate;
he writes:

“The poet [Goldsmith] has celebrated him as the friend of all mankind;
he certainly lost nothing by his friendship. He coined the brains of
authors in the times of their exigency, and made them pay dear for the
plank put out to keep them from drowning. It is not likely his death
caused much lamentation among the scribbling tribe.”

One difficulty Newbery had to contend with was the piracy of his books;
there was no adequate protection afforded by the copyright system, and
we read of Goldsmith and Johnson bewailing the literary thievery of
the day. By some it was regarded as a custom to be accepted; by others
as a deplorable condition beyond control. Early American authorship
suffered from the same evil, and Irving and Cooper were the two
prominent victims.

The book list of Isaiah Thomas (1749–1831), the Worcester,
Massachusetts printer, shows how freely he drew from the London
bookseller. Called by many the Didot of America, founder of the
American Antiquarian Society, author of one of the most authentic
histories of early printing in this country, he is the pioneer of
children’s books for America. He scattered his presses and stores
over a region embracing Worcester and Boston, Mass.; Concord, N.
H.; Baltimore, Md.; and Albany, N. Y. Books were kept by him, so he
vouched, specially for the instruction and amusement of children, to
make them safe and happy. In his “Memoirs” there is found abundant
material to satisfy one as to the nature of reading for young folks in
New England, previous to the Revolution.

Emerson writes in his “Spiritual Laws” regarding “theological
problems”; he calls them “the soul’s mumps and measles and
whooping-cough.” Already the sombre sternness of Colonial literature
for children has been typified in the “New England Primer.” The
benefits of divine songs and praises; the reiteration of the joy
to parents, consequent upon the behaviour of godly children; the
mandates, the terrible finger of retribution, the warning to all
sinners lurking in the throat disease which was prevalent at one
time--all these ogres rise up in the Thomas book to crush juvenile
exuberance. Does it take much description to get at the miserable
heart of the early piety displayed by the heroines of Cotton Mather’s
volumes, those stone images of unthinkable children who passed away
early, who were reclaimed from disobedience, “children in whom the fear
of God was remarkably budding before they died”? Writers never fail to
say, in speaking of Thomas White’s “Little Book for Children” (reprint
of 1702), that its immortality, in the face of all its theology, is
centred in one famous untheological line, “A was an archer who shot at
a frog.”

What Thomas did, when he began taking from Newbery, was to change
colloquial English terms to fit new environment; the coach no longer
belongs to the Lord Mayor, but to the Governor instead.[29] The text
is only slightly altered. We recognise the same little boys who would
become great masters; the same ear-marks stigmatise the heroines of
“The Juvenile Biographer,” insufferable apostles of surname-meaning,
Mistresses Allgood, Careful, and Lovebook, together with Mr. Badenough.
Oh, Betsey and Nancy and Amelia and Billy, did you know what it was to
romp and play?

The evident desire on the part of Miss Hewins, in her discussion of
early juvenile books, to emphasise the playful, in her quotations
from Thomas’ stories, only indicates that there was little levity
to deal with. Those were the days of gilded “Gifts” and “Delights”;
the pleasures of childhood were strangely considered; goodness was
inculcated by making the hair stand on end in fright, by picturing to
the naughty boy what animal he was soon to turn into, and what foul
beast’s disposition was akin to that of the fractious girl. Intentions,
both of an educational and religious nature, were excellent, no doubt;
but, when all is estimated, the residue presents a miserable, lifeless
ash.[30]

So far no distinctive writer for children has arisen. The volumes
issued by Newbery represent a conscious attempt to appeal through
_form_ to the juvenile eye. If the books were addressed intentionally
to children, their amusement consisted in some extraneous novelty; it
was rarely contained in the story. Action rather than motive is the
redeeming feature of “Goody Two Shoes.” As for religious training, it
was administered to the child with no regard for his individual needs.
He represented a theological stage of sin; the world was a long dark
road, through the maze of which, by his birth, he was doomed to fight
his little way. Life was a probationary period.

It is now necessary to leave the New England book, and to return to it
through another channel. The viewpoint shifts slightly; a new element
is to be added: a self-conscious recognition of education for children.
The sternness of the “New England Primer” possessed strength. The
didactic school, retaining the moral factor,--several points removed
from theology--sentimentalised it; for many a day it was to exist in
juvenile literature rampant. And, overflowing its borders, it was to
influence later chap-books, and some of the later publications of
Thomas and Newbery. Through Hannah More, it was to grip Peter Parley,
and finally to die out on American shores. For “Queechy” and “The Wide,
Wide World” represent the final flowering of this style. In order to
retain a clear connection, it is necessary to watch both streams,
educational and moral, one at first blending with the other, and
flourishing in this country through a long list of New England authors,
until, in the end, the educational, increasing in volume, conquered
altogether.


                        =Bibliographical Note=

THE BABEES BOOK--Ed. Frederick J. Furnivall, M.A. Published for the
    Early English Text Society. London, Trübner, 1868.

    In the foreword, note the following:

    Education in early England:

    1. In Nobles’ Houses; 2. At Home and at Private Tutors’; 3. At
    English Universities; 4. At Foreign Universities; 5. At Monastic
    and Cathedral Schools; 6. At Grammar Schools. _Vide_ the several
    other prefaces.

    This collection contains:

    1. The Babees Book, or a ‘Lytyl Reporte’ of How Young People Should
    Behave (_circa_ 1475 A.D.); 2. The A B C of Aristotle (1430 A.D.);
    3. The Book of Curteisie That is Clepid Stans Puer ad Mensam (1430
    A.D.); 4. The boke of Nurture, or Schoole of good maners: For Men,
    Servants, and children (1577); 5. The Schoole of Vertue, and booke
    of good Nourture for chyldren and youth to learne theyr dutie by
    (1557).

    _Vide_ Vol. iv, Percy Society, London, 1841: 1. The Boke of
    Curtasye, ed. J. O. Halliwell. 2. Specimens of Old Christmas
    Carols, ed. T. Wright. 3. The Nursery Rhymes of England, ed. J. O.
    Halliwell, 1842: _a._ Historical; _b._ Tales; _c._ Jingles; _d._
    Riddles; _e._ Proverbs; _f._ Lullabies; _g._ Charms; _h._ Games;
    _i._ Literal; _j._ Paradoxes; _k._ Scholastic; _l._ Customs; _m._
    Songs; _n._ Fragments.

    _Vide_ Vol. xxix, Percy Society, London, 1849. Notices of Fugitive
    Tracts and Chap-books printed at Aldermary Churchyard, Bow
    Churchyard, etc., ed. J. O. Halliwell.

       *       *       *       *       *

ASHTON, JOHN--Chap-books of the 18th Century.

ASHTON, JOHN--Social Life in the Time of Queen Anne.

BERGENGREN, R.--Boswell’s Chap-books and Others. _Lamp_, 28:39–44
    (Feb., 1904).

CHAMBERS, W.--Historical Sketch of Popular Literature and Its Influence
    on Society, 1863.

CUNNINGHAM, R. H.--Amusing Prose Chap-books. Glasgow, 1889.

FAXON, FREDERICK WINTHROP--A Bibliography of the Modern Chap-books and
    their Imitators (Bulletin of Bibl. Pamphl. No. 11), Boston Book
    Co., 1903. [A “freak” movement, beginning with the publication of
    _Chap-book_, at Cambridge, May 15, 1894.]

FERGUSON, CHANCELLOR--On the Chap-books in the Bibliotheca Jacksoniana
    in Tullie House, Carlisle. _Archaeolog. Jour._, 52:292 (1895).

FRASER, JOHN--Scottish Chap-books. (2 pts.) New York, Hinton, 1873.

GERRING, CHARLES--Notes on Printers and Booksellers, with a Chapter on
    Chap-books. London, 1900.

HALLIWELL, JAMES ORCHARD--A Catalogue of Chap-books, Garlands, and
    Popular Histories in the Possession of Halliwell. London, 1849.

HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY--Catalogue of English and American Chap-books
    and Broadside Ballads in 1905 (Bibl. contrib. No. 56).

NISARD, MARIE LÉONARD CHARLES--Histoire des Livres Populaires ou de
    la Littérature du Colportage, depuis l’origine de l’imprimerie
    jusqu’ à l’établissement de la Commission d’examen des livres du
    Colportage (30 Nov., 1852) [2 vols.]. Paris, Dentu, 1864.

PEARSON, EDWIN--Banbury Chap-books and Nursery Toy Book Literature of
    the 18th and Early 19th Centuries. London, 1890.

PYLE, HOWARD--Chap-book Heroes. _Harper’s Monthly Magazine_, 81:123
    (1890).

SIEVEKING, S. GIBERNE--The Mediæval Chap-book as an Educational Factor
    in the Past. _The Reliquary and Illus. Archaeolog._, 9:241 (1903).

       *       *       *       *       *

The student is referred to the following invaluable reference for
    matter relating to New England literature: Catalogue of the
    American Library of the Late Mr. George Brinley of Hartford, Conn.
    (5 pts.) Hartford: Press of the Case, Lockwood, and Brainard Co.,
    1878–97. Not completed. Comprising a list of Books printed at
    Cambridge and Boston, 1640–1709.

    Pt. I.--The Bay Psalm Book, No. 847; Almanacs, 1646–1707; The
    Mathers, Special Chapter of References.

    Pt. III.--Bibles, 146; Catechisms and Primers, New England Primer,
    158; Music and Psalmody, 163; Psalms and Hymns, 172.

    Pt. IV.--Continuation of Psalms and Hymns; Bibl. Ref. to
    Denominational Churches, Law, Government, Political Economy,
    Sciences, etc.; Popular Literature: Jest Books, Anecdotes, 131;
    Chap-books, 135; Books for Children, 139; Mother Goose, 140;
    Primers and Catechisms, 141; Educational, 143; Almanacs, 163;
    Theology, 177.

    Pt. V.--Newspapers and Periodicals, 137.

FORD, PAUL LEICESTER--The New England Primer (ed.). N. Y., Dodd, Mead,
    1897. (Edition limited.) [_Vide_ excellent bibliography.]

    The New England Primer. _Bookman_, 4:122–131 (Oct., 1896).

JOHNSON, CLIFTON--The New England Primer. _New England Mag._,
    n.s. 28:323. (May, 1903.) [Some essential data, but written
    superficially.]

MARBLE, ANNIE RUSSELL--Early New England Almanacs. _New England Mag._,
    n.s. 19:548. (Jan., 1899.) [_Vide_ also Griswold’s Curiosities
    of American Literature; Tyler’s History of American Literature;
    Thomas’s History of Printing. A collection of Almanacs is owned by
    the Am. Antiq. Soc., Worcester, Mass.]

       *       *       *       *       *

COLLIN DE PLANCY--Memories of Perrault.

DILLAYE, FRÉDÉRIC--Les Contes de Perrault (ed.). Paris, 1880.

LANG, ANDREW--Perrault’s Popular Tales; edited from the original
    editions, with an introduction by. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1888.
    [A concise and agreeable introduction to the study of folk-lore in
    general, and of a few noted tales in particular.]

OLD-FASHIONED FAIRY TALES--Madame D’Aulnoy, Charles Perrault, etc.
    Little, Brown, $1.00.

OLD FRENCH FAIRY TALES--C. Perrault, Madame D’Aulnoy. Little, Brown,
    $1.00.

D’ANOIS, COUNTESS--Fairy Tales, Translated from the French of. (2
    vols.) London, 1817.

D’AULNOY, COMTESSE--Mémoires de la. [_Vide_ Collection pour les jeunes
    filles.]

HALE, EDWARD EVERETT--Reprint of the Monroe and Francis Mother Goose.

GREEN, P. B.--History of Nursery Rhymes. London, 1899.

HEADLAND, J. T.--Chinese Mother Goose. Chicago, 1900.

HALLIWELL, J. O.--Nursery Rhymes of England; collected principally from
    oral tradition. London, 1842. [The Percy Society, Early English
    Poetry.]

    Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales. A Sequel to Nursery Rhymes.
    London, 1849.

RITSON, JOSEPH--Gammer Gurton’s Garland; or, The Nursery Parnassus.
    London, 1810; reprint 1866.

WELSH, CHARLES--An Appeal for Nursery Rhymes and Jingles. _Dial_
    (Chicago), 27:230 (1 Oct., 1899).

       *       *       *       *       *

FATHER OF CHILDREN’S BOOKS--_Current Literature_, 27:110.

WELSH, CHARLES--A Bookseller of the Last Century. Griffith, Farren &
    Co. London.

       *       *       *       *       *

BATCHELDER, F. R.--Patriot Printer. _New England Mag._, n.s. 25:284 (N.
    ‘01).

EVANS, CHARLES--American Bibliography. A Chronological Dictionary of
    all Books, Pamphlets, and Periodical Publications Printed in the
    United States of America. From the genesis of Printing in 1639
    Down to and Including the Year 1820. With Bibliographical and
    Biographical Notes. Privately Printed for the Author by the Blakely
    Press, Chicago. Anno Domini MDCCCCIII. Thus far issued: Vol. I.
    1639–1729; Vol. II. 1730–1750; Vol. III. 1751–1764.

       *       *       *       *       *

LIVINGSTON, L. S.--American Publisher of a Hundred Years Ago.
    _Bookman_, 11:530 (Aug., ’00).

NICHOLS, CHARLES L.--Some Notes on Isaiah Thomas and his Worcester
    Imprints. _Am. Antiq. Soc._, 1899–1900, n.s., 13:429.

THOMAS, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN--Memoir of Isaiah Thomas. By his Grandson.
    Boston, 1874.

       *       *       *       *       *

HEWINS, CAROLINE M.--The History of Children’s Books. _Atlantic_,
    61:112 (Jan., 1888).

WELSH, CHARLES.--The Early History of Children’s Books in New England.
    _New England Mag._, n.s. 20:147–60 (April, 1899).

YONGE, CHARLOTTE M.--Children’s Literature of the Last Century. _Liv.
    Age_, 102:373 (Aug. 7, 1869); 612 (Sept. 4, 1869); 103:96 (Oct. 9,
    1869).


FOOTNOTES:

[15] In “The Child and His Book,” by Mrs. E. M. Field (London: Wells
Gardner, Darton & Co., 1892), the reader is referred to chapters:
Before the Norman Conquest; Books from the Conquest to Caxton; The
Child in England, 1066–1640. Her researches form an invaluable
contribution to the history of children’s books, furnishing sources
for considerable speculation. Much is included of interest to the
antiquarian only.

[16] Thomas Newbery was the author. _Vide_ Fugitive Tracts, 1875.
Hazlitt and Huth.

[17] As early as 1262, the _macaronic_ style of delivering sermons
was customary. The gradual substitution of the vernacular for Latin
is dealt with in the introduction to the present author’s edition of
“Everyman,” 1903, xxvii.

[18] CHAP = An abbreviation of Chapman, which seems to have come into
vulgar use in the end of the 16th c.; but it is rare in books, even in
the dramatists, before 1700. It was not recognised by Johnson. 1577
BRETON _Toyes Idle_ Head (Grosart). Those crusty chaps I cannot love.
_a._ A buyer, purchaser, customer.

CHAP-BOOK = f. _chap_ in Chapman + Book. A modern name applied by book
collectors and others to specimens of the popular literature which was
formerly circulated by itinerant dealers or chapmen, consisting chiefly
of small pamphlets of popular tales, etc. 1824 DIBDIN _Libr. Comp._ It
is a chap-book, printed in rather neat black letter. 1882 J. ASHTON
_Chap-books, 18th Century_ in _Athenæum_ 2 Sept. 302/1. A great mass of
chap-books.

CHAPMAN = [OE. Céapmann = OHG. Choufman (OHG., MHG. Koufman), Ger.
Kaufmann.] A man whose business is buying and selling; a merchant,
trader, dealer. _Vide_ 890 K. ÆLFRED _Bæda_. _Vide_ further, A New
English Dictionary. Murray, Oxford.

[19] “The History of Tom Hickathrift” is regarded as distinctively
English; its literary qualities were likened by Thackeray to Fielding.
_Vide_ _Fraser’s Magazine._

[20] The notice ran as follows: “Advertisement: There is now in the
Press, and will suddenly be extant, a Second Impression of _The New
England Primer_, _enlarged_, to which is added, more _Directions for
Spelling_; the _Prayer of K. Edward the 6th_, and _Verses made by
Mr. Rogers, the Martyr, left as a Legacy to his Children_. _Sold by
Benjamin Harris_, at the _London Coffee-House_ in _Boston_.”

[21] Three typical examples of later reprints are: The N. E. Primer,
Walpole, N. H., I. Thomas & Co., 1814; The N. E. Primer Improved for
the More Easy Attaining the True Reading of English. To which is added
The Assembly of Divines and Episcopal Catechisms. N. Y., 1815; The N.
E. Primer, or an Easy and Pleasant Guide to the Art of Reading, Mass.
Sabbath School Soc., 1841.

[22] Another writer of _Contes des fées_ was Mme. Jeanne Marie Le
Prince de Beaumont (1711–1780), author of “Magasins des Enfans, des
Adolescens et des Dames.”

[23] The Original Mother Goose’s Melody, as first issued by John
Newbery, of London, about A.D. 1760. Reproduced in _facsimile_ from the
edition as reprinted by Isaiah Thomas, of Worcester, Mass., about A.D.
1785. With Introductory Notes by William H. Whitmore. Albany, Munsell,
1889. [_Vide_ N. E. Hist. and Geneal. Regist., 1873, pp. 144, 311;
Proceed. Am. Antiq. Soc., Oct., 1888, p. 406.]

[24] Lang says the term _Mother Goose_ appears in Loret’s “La
Muse Historique” (Lettre v., 11 Juin, 1650). _Vide_ also Deulin,
Charles--Les Contes de Ma Mère L’Oye, avant Perrault. Paris, 1878; and
Halliwell, J. O.--Percy Society.

[25] He was the author also of a “History of Animated Nature.”

[26] A list of his publications is owned by the Bodleian Library,
Oxford.

[27] _Vide_ _Notes and Queries_, June, 1875, 5th series, iii, 441.
Prof. Edward F. Rimbault.

[28] _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1826, Pt. ii, 467–69.

[29] Nurse Truelove’s New Year’s Gift; or, the Book of Books for
Children. Adorned with Cuts; and designed for a Present to every little
Boy who would become a great Man, and ride upon a fine Horse; and
to every little Girl, who would become a great Woman, and ride in a
Governour’s Gilt Coach.

[30] An interesting field of investigation: Early New England Printers.
Mr. Welsh mentions a few in article referred to, p.60. A full list of
Printers and Publishers (North and South) given in Evans’s American
Bibliography.




                    III. THE OLD-FASHIONED LIBRARY

  _A child should not need to choose between right and wrong. It
  should not be capable of wrong; it should not conceive of wrong.
  Obedient, as bark to helm, not by sudden strain or effort, but
  in the freedom of its bright course of constant life; true, with
  an undistinguished, painless, unboastful truth, in a crystalline
  household world of truth; gentle, through daily entreatings
  of gentleness, and honourable trusts, and pretty prides of
  child-fellowship in offices of good; strong, not in bitter and
  doubtful contest with temptation, but in peace of heart, and
  armour of habitual right, from which temptation falls like thawing
  hail; self-commanding, not in sick restraint of mean appetites
  and covetous thoughts, but in vital joy of unluxurious life, and
  contentment in narrow possession, wisely esteemed.--John Ruskin, in
  an introduction to Grimm’s_ “German Popular Tales,” _illustrated by
  Cruikshank_.


I. THE ROUSSEAU IMPETUS.

Mr. E. V. Lucas has compiled two volumes of old-fashioned tales
for modern readers. In his introductions he analyses the qualities
of his selected stories, and it is generally the case that, except
for incidental detail, what is said of one of a kind might just as
appropriately be meant for the other. If, at moments, the editor is
prone to confuse quaintness with interest, he makes full amends by the
quick humour with which he deals with the moral purpose. Perhaps it
was part of the game for our great-grandfathers to expect didacticism,
but simply because children were then considered “the immature young of
men” is no excuse, although it may be a reason, for the artificiality
which subserved play to contemplation. Wherever he can escape the bonds
of primness, Mr. Lucas never fails to take advantage; the character of
his selections indicates this as well as such critical remarks as the
following:

“The way toward a nice appreciation of the child’s own peculiar
characteristics was, however, being sought by at least two writers of
the eighteenth century, each of whom was before his time: Henry Brooke,
who in ‘The Fool of Quality’ first drew a small boy with a sense of
fun, and William Blake, who was the first to see how exquisitely worth
study a child’s mind may be.”

Mr. Lucas brings together a number of stories by different persons,
treating them as a group. Should you read them you will have a fairly
distinct conception of early nineteenth century writing for children.
But there is yet another way of approaching the subject, and that is
by tracing influence from writer to writer, from group to group; by
seeking for the _impetus_ without which the story becomes even more of
a husk than ever.

Let us conjure up the long row of theoretical children of a bygone age,
painfully pathetic in their staidness, closely imprisoned. They began
with Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), the iconoclast, who attacked
civil society, the family, the state, the church, and from whose pen
the school did not escape chastisement. His universal cry of “back to
nature” frightened the conservative; even Voltaire could not refrain,
on reading the essay dealing with the origin of inequality among men,
to write him: “Never has any one employed so much genius to make us
into beasts. When one reads your book he is seized at once with a
desire to go down on all-fours.”

Rousseau’s “Émile, or Treatise on Education” (1762) was wholly
revolutionary; it tore down ancient theories, such as those practised
by Dr. Isaac Watts upon his “ideal” boy and girl; all existent
educational strictures were ignored. Rousseau applied to childhood his
belief in the free unfolding of man’s nature; however impracticable his
methods, he loosed the chains that held fast the claims of childhood,
and recognised their existence. He set the pendulum swinging in the
human direction; he turned men’s minds upon the study of the child as
a child, and, because of this, takes his place at the head of modern
education. He opened the way for a self-conscious striving on the part
of authors to meet the demands of a child’s nature, by furnishing the
best literary diet--according to educational theories--for juvenile
minds. Revolutionary in religious as well as in political and social
ideals, Rousseau’s educational machinery was destined to be infused,
by some of his zealous followers, with a piousness which he never would
have sanctioned.

Training should be natural, says Rousseau; the child should discover
beauty, not be told about it; should recognise spontaneously what he
is now taught. Education should be progressive; at the same time it
should be negative. This sounds contradictory, but Rousseau would keep
his child a child until the age of twelve; he would prevent him from
knowing through any mental effort; he would have him grow like “Topsy”
in animal spirits, his mind unbridled and imbibing facts as his lungs
breathe in air. Yet inconsistency is evident from the outset: the child
must observe, at the same time he must not remember. Is it possible, as
Professor Payne challenges, to form the mind before furnishing it?

Rousseau’s precepts are wise and brilliant. We hear him exclaiming:
“It is less consequence to prevent him [the child] from dying than to
teach him how to live;” “The man who has lived most is not he who has
numbered the most years, but he who has had the keenest sense of life;”
“The best bed is that which brings us the best sleep.” These aphorisms
are as apt as those of Franklin; but in their exercise it is necessary
to consider the concomitants brought into play.

Émile is made an orphan; thus Rousseau gives himself full sway; thus
does he free himself from the necessity of constant consultation with
parents. He is determined to love the boy, to encourage him in his
sports, to develop his amiable instincts, his natural self. Émile must
not cry for the sweets of life; he must have a need for all things
rather than a joyful desire for some. Instead of teaching virtue to
him, Rousseau will try to shield him from a knowledge of all vice.
Where Plato recommends certain pastimes, he will train Émile to delight
in himself--thus making of him something of a youthful egoist. This
amœba state, endowed with all physical liberty, deprived of all dignity
of childish memory, is to be the boyhood of Émile. He “shall never
learn anything by heart, not even fables and not even those of La
Fontaine, artless and charming as they are.” Though he does not possess
the judgment to discriminate, he must be told the bare facts, and he
must discover for himself the relations which these facts bear to each
other. At the age of twelve, he shall hardly know a book when he sees
it. Rousseau calls books “cheerless furniture.”

So much for the boy; the girl Sophie fares as ill. Being of the woman
kind as well as of the child brand, she is to develop in even a more
colourless fashion. Fortunately all theory is not human actuality, and
Émile must have peopled his world in a way Rousseau could not prevent.
We are given natural rights and hereditary endowments; even the savage
has his standards and his dreams. Rousseau’s plan of existence ignored
the social evolution of history. Yet Émile might by such training have
been saved many wearisome explanations of the Mr. Barlow type, and it
is ofttimes true, as Mr. G. K. Chesterton claims, that the mysteries of
God are frequently more understandable than the solutions of man.

There was much in Rousseau’s book to rouse opposition; there was
equally as much to appeal to those whose instinctive love of childhood
was simply awaiting the flood gates to be opened. Like the Grimm
fairy tales of suspended animation, on the instant, the paternal
instinct began to be active, the maternal instinct to be motherly.
Rousseau--emended, modified, accentuated--overran England, France, and
Germany. Children were now recognised as children; it remained to be
seen whether they _were_ to be children.

The didactic era is in no way more fitly introduced than with the
names of Madame de Genlis and Arnaud Berquin in France, together with
the Edgeworth and Aikin families and Thomas Day in England. To each,
small space may be allotted, but they are worthy of full and separate
consideration.

Stéphanie Félicité [Ducrest de St. Aubin], Comtesse de Genlis
(1746–1830), is represented upon the library shelves by nearly a
hundred volumes. They were written during the course of a varied
existence, at the court of Louis XV and at home. Her _Mémoires_
are told in a facile and delightful style, and indicate how she so
thoroughly balanced the many conflicting elements in her duties that
she remains for those days a rare example of wife, mother, society
woman, and student. Her discernment of people, as revealed in these
pages, was penetrating and on the whole just; and, though a typical
product of her time, her nature was chastened by a refined and noble
spirit.

The first glimpse she affords of herself is as a child of six, when
she was taken to Paris. There, her brother was placed at a seat of
learning, where the master guaranteed within six weeks’ time to teach
him reading and spelling by means of a system of counters. The little
girl’s teeth were shedding--not a prepossessing phase of growth at
best. But, in addition, she was encased in whalebone stays, her feet
were squeezed into tight shoes, her curls done up in corkscrew papers,
and she was forced to wear goggles. The height of cruelty now followed.
Country-bred as she had been, her manner was not in accord with the
best ideas; her awkwardness was a matter of some concern. In order to
give better poise to her head, a thick iron collar was clapped upon
her supple throat. Here she was then, ready for regular lessons in
walking. To run was to court disfavour, for little girls, especially
city ones, were not allowed to do such an improper thing; to leap was
an unspeakable crime; and to ask questions was an unwarranted license.
It is small wonder that later on she should utilise the memory of such
abject slavery in “The Dove,” one of the numerous plays included in her
“Theatre of Education.”

Her early years thus prepared Madame de Genlis for the willing
acceptance of any new educational system, especially one which would
advocate a constant companionship between parents and child. For she
had been reared with but exceptional glimpses of her father and mother;
during one of these times she relates how the former, in his desire
to make her brave, forced her to catch spiders in her hands. Such a
picture is worthy a place by the side of Little Miss Muffet.

Like all children, Madame de Genlis was superior to her limited
pleasures; she possessed an imagination which expanded and placed her
in a heroic world of her own making. There is peculiar pleasure in
discovering under narrow circumstances the good, healthy spirit of
youth. Madame de Genlis seemed proud to record a certain dare-devil
rebellion in herself during this period. The pendulum that is made to
swing to its unnatural bent brings with the downward stroke unexpected
consequences. And so, when she married De Genlis, it is no surprise to
read that she did so secretly--a union which is most charmingly traced
in the Memoirs.

She developed into a woman with deep religious sensibility; with
forceful personality; with artistic talent, well exemplified by a
masterly execution on the harp. Living in an atmosphere of court
fêtes, the drama occupied no small part in her daily life. Whether at
her Château Genlis or elsewhere, she was ever ready for her rôle in
theatricals, as dramatist or as actress. She played in Molière, and was
accounted excellent in her characters; naught pleased her better than a
disguise; beneath it her vivacity always disported itself.

Her interest in teaching began early; no sooner was she a mother than
she hastened to fix her opinions as to the duties that lay before her,
in a written treatise called “Reflections of a Mother Twenty Years
of Age,” views which in their first form were lost, but which were
rehabilitated in the later “Adèle et Théodore,” consisting of a series
of letters on education.

After her mind had been drawn to the style of Buffon--for Madame de
Genlis was a widely read woman--she determined upon improving her own
manner of literary expression. She burned her bridges behind her, and
fed the flames with all of her early manuscripts. Then she started
over again to reconstruct her views, and in her study she made careful
notes of what she fancied of importance for her future use. She was on
intimate terms with Rousseau, took him to the theatre, and conversed
with him on education chiefly, and about diverse matters generally. If
she did not agree with him, Madame de Genlis was told that she had
not as yet reached the years of discretion when she would find his
writings suited to her. But Rousseau enjoyed the vivacious lady, who
was kind-hearted and worth while talking to, notwithstanding the fact
that she had the courtier’s love of banter. She writes:

“Not to appear better than I am, I must admit that I have often been
given to ridicule others, but I have never ridiculed anything but
arrogance, folly, and pedantry.”

Madame de Genlis was not a hero-worshipper; on first meeting Rousseau,
his coat, his maroon-coloured stockings, his round wig suggested comedy
to her, rather than gravity. We wonder whether she asked his advice
regarding the use of pictures in teaching history, a theory which she
originated and which Mrs. Trimmer was to follow in her Bible lessons.
Full as the days were, Madame de Genlis, nevertheless, seems to have
been able to give to her children every care and attention. This must
have won the unstinted commendation of Rousseau, who preached that a
boy’s tutor should be his father, and not a hired person.

Madame de Genlis created her own theatre; she wrote little comedies
of all kinds, which met with great success. Often these would be
presented in the open air, upon platforms erected beneath the shade of
forest trees; by means of the drama she sought to teach her daughters
elementary lessons of life; the stage to her was an educational
force. Through the plays her popularity and reputation increased to
such an extent, that the Electress of Saxony demanded her friendship.
She became instructress to the children of the Duke and Duchess of
Chartres, and she prided herself upon being the first in France to
adopt the foreign method of teaching language by conversation.[31]
The rooms for her royal pupils were fitted according to her special
indications. Rough sketches were made upon a wall of blue, representing
medals, busts of kings and emperors of Rome. Dates and names were
frescoed within easy view. Every object was utilised, even to the fire
screens, which were made to represent the kings of France; and over the
balustrades were flung maps, like banners upon the outer walls.

Up and down such staircases, and through such rooms wandered the
cultivated flowers of royalty. They did not suffer, because their
teacher was luckily human as well as theoretical; because she had a
vein of humour as well as a large seriousness. Her whole educational
scheme is described in her “Lessons of a Governess” and “Adèle et
Théodore.” When she engaged a tutor to attend to the special studies of
the young prince in her charge, she suggested the keeping of an hourly
journal which would record the little fellow’s doings--each night she,
herself, to write critical comments upon the margins of every page.
In addition, she kept a faithful record of everything coming within
her own observation; and this she read aloud each day to her pupils,
who had to sign their names to the entries. But much to the chagrin of
Madame de Genlis, the Duke and Duchess refused to take the time to read
the voluminous manuscripts; they trusted to the wisdom and discretion
of the teacher.

Not a moment was lost during these busy periods; history was played
in the garden, and civic processions were given with ponies gaily
caparisoned. Even a real theatre was built for them. Royalty was
taught to weave, and was taken on instructive walks and on visits to
instructive places. But, through all this artificiality, the woman in
Madame de Genlis saved the teacher.

The latter part of her eventful life was filled with vexations, for
the thunders of the French Revolution rolled about her. A short while
before the storm broke, she went on a visit to England, where she came
in contact with Fox and Sheridan, with Walpole and Reynolds; and where
she paid a special visit to the House of Commons and was a guest at
Windsor.

All told, here was a writer for children, self-conscious and yet
ofttimes spontaneous in her style. She is interesting because of
herself, and in spite of many of her literary attempts. She is little
read to-day, in fact rarely mentioned among juvenile book lists;
education killed a keen perception and vivacity by forcing them along
prescribed lines. One glimpse of Madame de Genlis in old age is
recorded by Maria Edgeworth, who called on her in 1803.

“She came forward, and we made our way towards her as well as we
could, through a confusion of tables, chairs, and work-baskets, china,
writing-desks and inkstands, and bird-cages and a harp.... She looked
like the full-length picture of my great-great-grandmother Edgeworth
you may have seen in the garret, very thin and melancholy, but her
face not so handsome as my great-grandmother’s; dark eyes, long sallow
cheeks, compressed, thin lips, two or three black ringlets on a high
forehead, a cap that Mrs. Grier might wear,--altogether an appearance
of fallen fortunes, worn-out health, and excessive but guarded
irritability. To me there was nothing of that engaging, captivating
manner which I had been taught to expect by many even of her enemies;
she seemed to me to be alive only to literary quarrels and jealousies;
the muscles of her face as she spoke, or as my father spoke to her,
quickly and too easily expressed hatred and anger whenever any not of
her own party were mentioned.”

A frontispiece to the 1802 edition of Arnaud Berquin’s (1749–1791)
works represents his bust being garlanded and crowned, and his “L’Ami
des Enfans” being regarded by a group of admirers, both young
and old. But though this very volume was received with honours by
the French Academy, and though by it Berquin claims his right to
immortality, French children of the present refrain from reading him
as systematically as we refrain from reading “Sandford and Merton,”
which, as it happens, Berquin translated into French. There are popular
editions of “L’Ami des Enfans,” but children do not relish the tameness
of such moral literature. The editor detailed to write Berquin’s short
life, which was spent in the study of letters, and in following up one
“Ami” by another, sacrifices incident and fact for encomium. It is easy
to claim for Berquin modesty and goodness during his residence in his
native town near Bordeaux and after his arrival in Paris during 1772;
it is interesting to know that he was encouraged to use his talents
by the praise of his friends, but far more valuable would it have
been to tell just in what manner he reached that ethical state which
overflowed in his “L’Ami des Enfans,” published during the years 1782
and 1783. The full purport of the volume is summed up exuberantly in
the following paragraph:

“Quelle aimable simplicité! quel naturel! quel sentiment naïf
respirent dans cette ingénieuse production! Au lieu de ces fictions
extravagantes, et de ce merveilleux bizarre dans lesquels on a si
longtemps égaré l’imagination des enfans, Berquin ne leur présente
que des aventures dont ils peuvent être témoins chaque jour dans leur
famille.”

The tales and playlets written by Berquin are almost immoral in their
morality. It is a question whether the interest of children will
become absorbed by the constant iteration of virtue; whether goodness
is best developed through the exploitation of deceit, of lying, of
disobedience, and of wilful perverseness. To be kind means to be
rewarded, to be bad is synonymous with punishment. Berquin and his
followers might have drawn up a moral code book in pocket form, so
stereotyped was their habit of exacting an eye for an eye and a tooth
for a tooth. What are the punishments of vanity, what the outcome of
playing when the afternoon task is to watch the sheep? The pictures
made to illustrate the stories depict boys and girls kneeling in
supplication, while the grown persons almost invariably stand in
disdainful attitude. The children who would be their own masters
and go out in a boat, despite parental warning, are upset: there is
the algebraic formula. “Plainness the Dress of Use” is probably a
worthy subject for a tale, and “A Good Heart Compensates for Many
Indiscretions” a pathetic title for a play. But young people as a
general rule are not maudlin in their feelings; even granting that
there are some given that way, they should not be encouraged in holding
a flabby standard of human, as well as of divine, justice. “L’Ami des
Enfans” is filled with such sentimental mawkishness.


II. THE EDGEWORTHS; THOMAS DAY; MRS. BARBAULD; AND DR. AIKIN.

At the early age of twenty-three, Richard Lovell Edgeworth (1744–1817)
decided to educate his son, Richard, according to the principles
set down by Rousseau. He thrust the little fellow back into a state
of nature by taking his shoes and stockings off and by cutting the
arms from all his jackets. But, try as he did in every way to make a
living Émile out of young Richard, the father found that the theories
did not work. When he took the luckless boy to Paris and called upon
Rousseau, there ensued an examination of results, and the sum-total was
pronounced a failure. Hon. Emily Lawless writes in some glee:

“It is impossible to read without a smile of the eminently
unphilosophic wrath expressed by the sage, because each time that a
handsome horse or vehicle passed them on their walk, his temporary
charge--a child of seven--invariably cried out, ‘That’s an English
horse!’ ... a view which he solemnly pronounced to be due to a sadly
early ‘propensity to party prejudice’!...”

Edgeworth lost entire faith in the practical application of the
Rousseau scheme in after years; but the lasting effect it seems to have
produced upon the unfortunate victim was to place him in the ranks of
mediocrity, for he was hardly ever spoken of thereafter by his family;
and in order to remove himself from further disturbance, as soon as he
reached years of discretion, he hastened to place miles between himself
and the scenes of his youth; Richard came to America.

Edgeworth’s love affairs--for four times he was married--are involved,
and do not concern us, save as they effect Thomas Day. But, personally,
he enters our plan as influencing his daughter, Maria Edgeworth
(1767–1849), with whom he wrote “Practical Education.” There are some
men--and Edgeworth was bordering on the type--who assume an almost
dreadful position in a household; who torture the mind of boy or girl
by prying, and by wishing to emphasise hidden meaning in everything;
who make children fear to ask questions lest a lecture, dry and
unoriginal, be the penalty. Such men have a way of fixing youth with
intense, severe gaze--of smiling with a fiendish self-complacency over
their own superiority--of raising their eyebrows and reprimanding
should the child be watching the flight of a sparrow instead of being
ever alert for an unexpected question or bit of information which a
grown person might put to him on earth. Such men are the kind who make
presents of Cobbet’s “Advice to Young Men,” and who write mistaken
sentiments of nobility on the fly-leaf of Samuel Smiles’s “Self-Help.”

Edgeworth’s redeeming trait was his earnest desire to bring the best
within reach of his children, and he considered his severity the
proper kind of guidance for them. Whatever sin of commission is to be
laid to his charge, it is nevertheless true that it was not so great
as to destroy the love Maria had for him. The literary critic has to
reckon with the total amount of effect his teaching, his personal
views had upon the writings of his daughter. That he did influence her
is certain, and nowhere more thoroughly shown than in her work for
children. In theory this work traces its origin to Rousseau, while in
its modelling it bears a close relationship to Madame de Genlis and to
Berquin.

Banish dolls is the cry in “Practical Education,” and if you have
toys in the nursery at all, let them be of a useful character--not
mechanical novelties, but cubes, cylinders, and the like. Place before
children only those pictures which deal with familiar objects, and
see to it that the pose of every figure, where there are figures,
is natural; a boy once went with Sir Joshua Reynolds through an art
gallery, and invariably he turned with displeasure away from any form
represented in a constrained attitude. This is the general tone of the
Edgeworths as teachers.

The set notions that fill the pages of “Practical Education” often
border on the verge of bathos. They leave no room for the exercise of
spontaneous inclination; by their limitations, they recognise no great
amount of common sense in others. They create in one a desire at times
to laugh, and again a desire to shake the authors who were in the frame
of mind to hold such views. There are certain instincts which are
active by reason of their own natures,--and one is the love of parent
for offspring. We even accredit the wild animal with this quality. When
the Edgeworths declare that “My dear, have you nothing to do?” should
be spoken in sorrow, rather than in anger, the advice irritates; it is
platitudinous; it must have irritated many naturally good mothers, even
in those days when such a tone in writers was more the rule than the
exception.

On the subject of books Miss Edgeworth and her father become more
interesting, though none the less startling in their suggestions.
One of Maria’s early tasks in 1782 had been to translate “Adèle et
Théodore”; to her this book was worthy of every consideration. In the
choice of reading for young folks, the two do not reach very much
beyond their own contemporaries: Mrs. Barbauld’s “Lessons,” the Aikin’s
“Evenings at Home,” Berquin’s “L’Ami des Enfans,” Day’s “Sandford and
Merton” were recommended. And in addition there were mentioned Madame
de Silleri’s stories, known as the “Theatre of Education,” Madame de
la Fite’s “Tales” and “Conversations,” and Mrs. Smith’s “Rural Walks.”
Despite the fact that fairy tales are at this period frowned upon as
useless frivolities, “Robinson Crusoe,” “Gulliver’s Travels,” “The
Three Russian Sailors,” and the “Arabian Nights’ Entertainment” are
suggested because of the interest and profit to be had in voyages and
travels of all kinds. Fancy was thus held at a discount.

Two books of nature are mentioned, and curiously one is emphasised as
of special value for children provided it is beforehand judiciously
cut or blotted out here and there. The Edgeworths obtained this idea
from an over-careful mother who was in the habit of acting as censor
and editor of all juvenile books that found their way into her house.
In Russia, the authorities take an ink pad and stamp out the condemned
passages of any book officially examined. In the same summary manner,
English parents were advised to treat their children’s stories. The
Edgeworths went even further, suggesting that, besides striking out
separate words with a pen, it would be well to cut the undesirable
paragraphs from the page, provided by so doing the sense of the text on
the reverse side was not materially interfered with. To mark the best
thoughts for young readers was also strongly recommended.

The authors are never wanting in advice. If children are good, what
need is there to introduce them to evil in their stories? Evil is here
meant in its mildest sense. They should be kept from all contagion. But
bad boys and girls should be told to read, in “The Children’s Friend,”
tales like “The Little Gamblers” and “Honesty is the Best Policy,”
which will teach them, by examples of wickedness, to correct their
ways. Such strange classification suggests that literature was to be
used as a species of moral reformatory. Two significant facts are to
be noted in this chapter on books: there is an attempt to grade the
literature by some age standard, bringing to light a gap between four
and seven years which may be offset by a similar gap to-day; so, too,
does there seem to have been, then as now, a great lack of history and
biography.

The idea upon which the “Parent’s Assistant” was founded began to shape
itself in Miss Edgeworth’s mind early in life. Left alone for a short
period with her younger brothers and sisters, she manufactured tales
for their edification, many of which, in after years, she utilised.
In 1796 she gathered together and published some of her best stories,
among them “The Purple Jar” and “Lazy Laurence.” “Simple Susan” would
probably not be so widely emphasised were it not for the fact that Sir
Walter Scott recorded “that when the boy brings back the lamb to the
little girl, there is nothing for it but to put down the book and cry.”

Miss Edgeworth and her father had much preferred that the book be
called “The Parent’s Friend,” for lodged in the former’s memory were
disagreeable thoughts of an old-time arithmetic which had plagued her
early years, and was named “The Tutor’s Assistant.”

The theatricals performed in the Edgeworth household afforded much
pleasure. It is very likely that the custom was gleaned from Madame de
Genlis. Plays were written for every festive season. The publication
of the “Parent’s Assistant” suggested the acting of some of the
playlets contained in the book. There seem to have been two theatres,
one fitted up just over Richard Lovell’s study, and another temporary
stage erected in the dining-room. Here, one evening, was enacted the
exemplary dialogue of “Old Poz,” where a poor man is suspected, by a
Justice, of stealing what a magpie has in reality secreted. Lucy, the
good little daughter, clears the innocent fellow, upon whom her father
sits in very stern, very unreasonable, and most unnatural judgment.
Irritable to a degree, the Justice, who is positive about everything,
shuts up any one who gainsays a word contrary to his obstinacy, but
“Oh, darling,” he remarks to his daughter, after her excellent deed,
“_you_ shall contradict me as often as you please.” This method is
neither more nor less than poisonous; it is polluted with a certain
license which no good action ever sanctions. There is small doubt that
children see the absurdity of it, for it cheapens right-doing in their
eyes.

The compensating balance of good and bad is exercised to a monotonous
degree in Miss Edgeworth’s tales. There are the meek, innocent girl,
and the proud, overbearing girl in “The Bracelet”; the heedless,
extravagant boy, and the thoughtful, thrifty boy in “Waste Not, Want
Not.” Disaster follows disaster; reward courts reward. Not content with
using these extremes of human nature in one story, Miss Edgeworth rings
the changes, slightly altered in form, in others of her tales.

“The Purple Jar” in substance is the same as “Waste Not, Want
Not”; the moral applications are identical. One has but to glance
through the pages of the latter story to note its didactic pattern.
Yet Miss Edgeworth possessed her literary excellencies in human
characterisation, in that power of narrative which gained effect, not
through ornamentation, but through deep knowledge of the real qualities
of common existence. The dominant fault is that she allowed her
ultimate object to become crystallised into an overshadowing bulwark, a
danger which always besets the “moral” writer, and produces the ethical
teacher in a most obtruding form. When Miss Edgeworth’s little girl
sprains her ankle and her father picks her up, she consciously covers
her leg with her gown. Fate seems never to have worked so swiftly,
so determinedly, as in those tales where thoughtless boys on their
walks had the consequences of their bad acts visited upon them during
the homeward journey. The hungry, the lame, the halt, the blind turn
unexpected corners, either to wince beneath the jeers of one type of
mortal child, or to smile thanks to the other kind for a gentle word or
a much-needed penny.

No one can wholly condemn the tale, typified by Miss Edgeworth’s
“Parent’s Assistant.” Childhood is painted in quaint, old-fashioned
colours, even though the staid little heroes and heroines have no
interests. They take information into their minds as they would
take physic into their bodies. They are all normal types, subjected
to abnormal and unnaturally successive temptations, and given very
exacting consciences. A writer in _Blackwood’s_ becomes indignant over
such literary treatment:

“They [the girls] have good reason to expect from these pictures of
life, that if they are very good and very pious, and very busy in
doing grown-up work, when they reach the mature age of sixteen or so,
some young gentleman, who has been in love with them all along, will
declare himself at the very nick of time; and they may then look to
find themselves, all the struggles of life over, reposing a weary
head on his stalwart shoulder.... Mothers, never in great favour with
novelists, are sinking deeper and deeper in their black books,--there
is a positive jealousy of their influence; while the father in the
religious tale, as opposed to the moral and sentimental, is commonly
either a scamp or nowhere. The heroine has, so to say, to do her work
single-handed.”

What is true of these young people is therefore likewise true of their
grown-up associates. They have definite personalities, and they are
either monstrosities of excellence or demons of vice and temper. But
here also a careful distinction was preserved. Mr. Lucas says in his
“Old-Fashioned Tales”:

“The parents who can do no wrong are very numerous; but they are, it
should be pointed out, usually the parents of the central child. There
are very often parents and relations of other and subsidiary children
whose undesirable habits are exceedingly valuable by way of contrast.”

Despite the fact that there is so much to condemn in this _genre_
of writing, Miss Edgeworth was endowed with that sober sense and
inexhaustible power of invention claimed for her by critics of the
period. Her care for detail, her exhibition of small actions that
mark the manners of all people in different walks of life, were
distinguishing features of her skill.

With her father Miss Edgeworth laboured on other things besides the
“Practical Education”; while the two were preparing the essay on “Irish
Bulls,” published in 1802, she plainly states that the first design was
due to him, and that in her own share she was sedulously following
the ideas suggested by him. Throughout her autobiographical data she
offers us many glimpses of that family unity which existed--whether
from voluntary desire or because of the domineering grip of Edgeworth,
is not stated. She was continuously solicitous for his welfare, not
through any forced sense of duty, but because of her desire to give
pleasure in small ways; she found it agreeable to sit of an evening
doing needle work, while Edgeworth “read out” Pope’s Homer. In the
course of such hours she first became acquainted with Scott’s “Lady of
the Lake” and “Waverley.”

The friendship between Miss Edgeworth and Scott was deep and cordial;
one was not without abiding influence on the other. She describes
with graphic pen the first sound of his voice at Abbotsford; and
the biographer has no more agreeable material to work upon than her
fortnight spent as a guest of the novelist, and his return visit to
Edgeworthtown in 1825.

For a man whose avowed detestation of women was well known to every
one, Thomas Day (1748–1789) succeeded in leading a life of romantic
variety. Yet he was not a person of strong passion; in fact, was more
inclined to brooding melancholy. His intimacy with the Edgeworth family
began when he met Richard Lovell at Oxford; and it was when he saw
the training of Émile applied to his friend’s son that his mind was
seized with the idea of carrying out a similar scheme himself. He held
a great contempt for dress; and his numerous vagaries regarding the
conduct and duties of a wife were so pronounced that it is most likely
they came between himself and Maria Edgeworth, with whom it is thought
there was some romantic understanding.

Unlike Edgeworth, Day had no child to experiment upon. So he set
about “breeding up” two girls, away from conflicting influences, and
according to nature. One was obtained from an orphan asylum, and was
known as Sabrina Sidney; the other, called Lucretia, was taken from a
Foundling Hospital. In order to give a moral tone to the situation,
these girls were bound out to Edgeworth, who was a married man. Not
many knew that Day had hastened with both of the damsels to Avignon.
Here he began to educate them with the intention of training one for
his future wife.

Events did not progress smoothly, however; the girls quarrelled as
saints would have quarrelled under the circumstances, and they occupied
their time by falling out of boats and having smallpox. What their
schooling consisted of may be imagined from the fragment of a letter
written by Sabrina to Mr. Edgeworth:

“I hope I shall have more sense against I come to England--I know how
to make a circle and an equilateral triangle--I know the cause of day
and night, winter and summer.”

At the advanced age of twenty-two--even younger than Edgeworth when
he first became imbued with the Rousseau doctrines--Day returned to
Lichfield--the home of Johnson and of Dr. Charles Darwin--bringing with
him his charges: Lucretia, who was hopelessly dull, and Sabrina, who
proved the favourite and was by far the more attractive of the two,
with her fetching auburn ringlets, her long amorous eyelashes, and her
very melodious voice. The young ladies had failed to become thoroughly
steeled against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. In most
respects they persisted in remaining like the average woman with
sensibility. When hot sealing-wax was dropped upon the shapely arm of
Sabrina, to harden her against the fear of pain, she refused to behave
heroically; when a pistol was fired at her petticoats--a volley of lead
for all she knew--her screams and frantic jumps indicated that her
nerves were not impervious to the unexpected.

Day did not fail to show his disgust and disappointment. While Sabrina
was at boarding-school, he hastened to forget all about her, and fell
in love with Honora Sneyd, whose fame chiefly rests upon the fact
that she was once courted by Major André. To make the situation more
awkward, Edgeworth, despite his married state, likewise possessed
strong affection for the same lady. She refused Day, and what followed
contains the zest of a wicked little comedy. He fell ill, and had to
be bled; then he summoned up sufficient strength to escape to France
with Edgeworth, who felt it best to remove himself from temptation. It
was during this trip that he visited Rousseau with poor little Richard.
But before crossing the Channel, Day had succeeded in transferring his
affections to Honora’s sister, Elizabeth.

“Go,” she said to him in substance, “try to assume some of the graces
that you sorely lack. Learn to dress stylishly, and be taught the
proper curl for a wig. Train yourself into a fashionable-looking
husband, and come back to me.”

Thus commanded, Day spent many weary hours wielding the foil, and
being carried through the intricacies of the dance. And those legs of
his--how he put them into exercise, hoping against hope to straighten
them ere he returned to England!

But there was evidently no improvement in the end, for when the lady
saw him, she unhesitatingly refused him. It is sufficient to say that,
in time, Edgeworth married both sisters, Death regarding kindly his
love of novelty.

With affections thus left high and dry, Day turned once more to
Sabrina. He had long ago discarded Lucretia, who apprenticed herself to
a milliner, and later became the wife of an honest draper. But Sabrina
was fair to look upon and Day saw no reason why she should not satisfy
his ideas of wifehood, provided she would dress according to his
tastes. We applaud the shake of those auburn ringlets as she refused
his wishes, and thus escaped matrimony with him.[32] There was another
lady upon whom this honour was to descend.

When Miss Milnes, of Wakefield, was approached by Day, she was informed
of all his requirements, and was deceived as to none of his vagaries.
It must have been somewhat of a surprise to him when she accepted him,
outlandish attire and all; and it is a pleasant disappointment to know
that the marriage was a happy one, despite the fact that Mrs. Day
insisted upon holding opinions of her own.

Day was most content when he was theorising; at the same time, it
must not be lost sight of that he had timely interests. His feelings
were strongly aroused against the state of negro slavery in America,
and he was earnest in his advocacy of parliamentary reform. His great
fault was that he was always carried to extremes whenever good motives
prompted him. His earnest concern for the poor, during 1781, was
accompanied by stern denials of pleasures for himself,--well-nigh of
the necessities of life.

Day realised the failures of his theories as applied to grown people;
had he not done so, we most likely would not have had “Sandford
and Merton.” His attention was soon attracted to the infant mind as
an unworked field; the Edgeworths were meeting success with their
children’s books; he would attempt the same thing, and so, during
1783, 1787, and 1789, the three successive volumes of his famous story
appeared--an elongated “Waste Not, Want Not.”

Day had heretofore suggested a certain effeminate bearing in his
character; he recognised it, and was now suddenly beset with a
consuming desire to supplant this manner by an overtowering manliness,
by the exercise of firmness and strength. But the new policy was to
prove his undoing. On the afternoon of September 28, 1789, he went to
ride on an unbroken horse, believing to curb him by the discipline of
command rather than of the stock. The animal took fright and threw
him; he received injuries from which he almost immediately died. On
the evidence of Miss Seward, it is recorded that Mrs. Day thereafter
“lay in bed, into the curtains of which no light was admitted, ... and
only rose to stray alone through her garden when night gave her sorrows
congenial gloom.”

The estimate of such a work as “Sandford and Merton” cannot be
based upon modern standards; all of the factors characteristic of
the didactic writers for children, such as persistent questioning,
the encyclopædic grown person in the shape of Mr. Barlow, and the
monotonous interchange of narrative and dialogue, are employed as
vehicles for knowledge. The book is unique, inasmuch as it sought to
supply a variety of stories suitable in style and content for the
beginner.

“The only method I could invent,” writes Day, “was to select such
passages of different books as were most adapted to their experience
and understanding. The least exceptionable that I could find for
this purpose were Plutarch’s Lives, and Zenophon’s History of the
Institution of Cyrus, in English translations; with some part of
Robinson Crusoe, and a few passages in the first volume of Mr. Brook’s
Fool of Quality.”

In those days, if authors are to be believed, birds were in the habit
of alighting on the hands of good children; they are more timid now,
though children are not less good. The poor boy was made to feel how
kind the good rich boy was to him throughout his shocking adversity; we
are more considerate to-day. And so, Tommy Merton and Harry Sandford,
products of a stilted age, are clad in uniforms similar to those worn
by Miss Edgeworth’s children. They are endowed with no exceptional
qualities, with no defined will power; they stand in a long row of
similarly subjected slaves of theory.

Miss Agnes Repplier calls this story one of her early moral pitfalls.
She read it at a period when information was being forced down her,
and “which,” so she writes, “I received as responsively as does a
Strassburg goose its daily share of provender.”

Among the writers of this period, none are more important than Anna
Letitia Aikin Barbauld (1743–1825). Her position is a unique one,
for, being acquainted with all of her literary contemporaries and
subject to their influence, she stands in a transition stage. Through
her mental independence, she succeeded partially in breaking from
the introspective method of motive-hunting, and foreshadowed the
possibilities of Mrs. Hemans, the Brontés, and Mrs. Browning. She was
reared in an atmosphere of intellectuality by her father, John Aikin, a
professor and a man of advanced opinions regarding female instruction,
two points which argued for her less conventional mind and for her less
stilted manner.

When she married Rochemont Barbauld, who had been a student under her
father, and who was a non-conformist, she was well versed in Greek and
Latin, and in every way was equipped to do literary work. She was more
or less influenced by her husband’s religious independence; he changed
his congregation from English Presbyterianism to Unitarianism, and it
is not surprising to find the English public looking somewhat askance
at Mrs. Barbauld’s fitness to write for children. Madame de Genlis was
in like fashion criticised for the religious views she held, and we
shall find Miss More subject to the same scrutiny. The Aikins were the
first to introduce the material lines in children’s literature, “but
the more anxiously religious mothers felt a certain distrust of the
absence of direct lessons in Christian doctrines; and Mrs. Trimmer was
incited to begin a course of writing for young people that might give
the one thing in which, with all their far superior brilliancy, the
Aikins were felt to be deficient.”

We are not concerned with all of Mrs. Barbauld’s work; she used to
write poetry, some of it in repartee vein which struck the acute
fancy of Charles Lamb; her essays were of an exceptional order, in a
few instances expressed in imitation of Johnson; he himself had to
acknowledge that of all who tried to ape him, she was most successful.
Her educational opinions, sent from time to time in letters to Mrs.
Montague, marked her ability as a teacher; but the method that she
believed in was well nigh Socratic and ofttimes wearisome in its
persistency; history and geography were given to infant minds in the
form of lectures. Around 1802 William Godwin, of whom we shall have
something to say later in his connection with the Lambs, wrote:

“I think Mrs. Barbauld’s little books admirably adapted, upon the
whole, to the capacity and amusement of young children.... As far as
Mrs. Barbauld’s books are concerned, I have no difficulty. But here my
judgment and the ruling passion of my contemporaries divide. They aim
at cultivating one faculty; I should aim at cultivating another....
Without imagination, there can be no genuine ardour in any pursuit or
for any acquisition, and without imagination there can be no genuine
morality, in profound feeling of other men’s sorrow, no ardent and
persevering anxiety for their interests. This is the faculty which
makes the man, and not the miserable minuteness of detail about which
the present age is so uneasy.”

Childless herself, Charles Aikin was adopted by Mrs. Barbauld, the
little Charles of “Early Lessons for Children,” composed especially for
him. The latter work was followed by “Hymns in Prose for Children,”
consisting of translations from all tongues, put into simple language,
and not into verse, for fear they might fail to reach the comprehension
otherwise. These hymns are probably most representative of Mrs.
Barbauld’s individual writings, for the work by which she is best
known, the “Evenings at Home,” was written in collaboration with her
brother, Dr. Aikin.

In the “Evenings” a new tone is detected; despite a stilted style, the
two authors aroused an interest in external objects, and, by their
descriptions and suggestions, attempted to infuse meaning into the
world surrounding the child. This small departure from the sectarian
tendency prevailing in so much of the literature of that period,
imperceptible though it may be, was due to a shifting of attitude
toward women which was taking place in England. Mrs. Barbauld might
be considered a “bold” example of feminine intellect reaching out for
a larger sphere. We read that Fox was surprised that a woman could
exhibit such clearness and consistency of viewpoint as were to be
discovered in such of her essays as “Monastic Institutions”; and there
were others who wondered at the alertness and interest she manifested
in all matters pertaining to public affairs. Her force of intellect
pleased some, her manner others. Scott confessed that her public
reading of poetry inspired him to court the muse; Wordsworth unfolded
so far as to envy the beauty of her stanzas on “Life,” which toward the
end contain these attractive, hopeful, and faith-abiding lines:

    “Life! we’ve been long together,
    Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
    ’Tis hard to part when friends are dear;
    Perhaps ’twill cost a sigh, a tear;
      Then steal away, give little warning,
    Choose thine own time;
    Say not good-night, but in some brighter clime,
      Bid me good-morning.”

Mrs. Barbauld was one of a group of women writers, seeking through
the force of their opinions to destroy the conventional barriers
which kept the exercise of feminine minds within prescribed bounds.
Harriet Martineau has outlined the tyrannical limitations which beset a
young girl of the early nineteenth century; decorum stood for mental
annihilation. When genteel persons came to call at the home of Jane
Austen, the latter, out of regard for family feeling, and for fear of
being thought forward and unmaidenly, was constrained to cover her
manuscript with a muslin scarf.

Mrs. Barbauld did not make any revolutionary declaration, nor attempt
any public defiance of custom; however, she did, by her reaching toward
the manifest facts of life, secularise our concern for the common
things about us. She encouraged, through her plea for the freedom of
thought, the movement which resulted in the emancipation of her sex,
and which found vent, on the one hand, in Mary Wollstonecraft’s[33]
“The Right of Woman” (1792) and, on the other, with more determined
force, in John Stuart Mill’s “On the Subjection of Women” (1869). As
this freedom became more and more assured, there underwent a change
in the educational attitude; a girl’s mind had something more to
work on than the motto of a sampler; her occupations became somewhat
altered. And the women writers began to emphasise, in their stories for
children, the individual inclinations of hero and heroine.

Wherever Charles Lamb discourses upon books, he assumes the critical
attitude that deals with literature as a living force, as something
built for human appeal. He met Mrs. Barbauld and Mrs. Trimmer on
several occasions, and we can imagine the delight he took in shocking
their ladylike senses by his witty and sudden remarks. At one period
some dispute and ill-feeling existed between himself and Mrs. Barbauld,
due to a false report that she had lampooned his drama, “John Woodvil.”

Elia was not the sort of literary devotee to sanction anemic literature
for children; his plea was for the vitalising of the nursery book. On
October 23, 1802, he wrote to Coleridge:

“Mrs. Barbauld’s stuff has banished all the old classics, ... and the
shopman at Newbery’s hardly deign’d to reach them off an exploded
corner of a shelf, when Mary ask’d for them. Mrs. B’s and Mrs.
Trimmer’s nonsense lay in piles about. Knowledge insignificant and
vapid as Mrs. B’s books convey, it seems, must come to a child in the
shape of knowledge, and his empty noddle must be turned with conceit
of his own powers, when he has learnt that a horse is an animal, and
Billy is better than a horse, and such like; instead of that beautiful
interest in wild tales which made the child a man while all the time he
suspected himself to be no bigger than a child.”

He saw the penalty that lay in cramming the child with natural
history instead of furnishing him with some creative appeal. We can
forgive Elia all his pranks when he thus pleads the genial claim of
imagination; if, in a witty vein, he called Mrs. Barbauld and Mrs.
Inchbald the “bald” old women, we must understand that Lamb had
his petulant hours, and that children’s literature of the day was
sufficient to increase them!

The purport of “Evenings at Home” is instruction. Within the compass of
a few pages, objects crowd one upon the other as thick and as fast as
virtues do in Miss Edgeworth. Such keenness and alertness in observing
common things, as are cultivated in “Eyes and No Eyes,” stagger the
intellect. It is well to teach your young companions to feel the
hidden possibilities of nature and to cultivate within them a careful
observation; but there is a vacation time for the mind, and the world,
though it may be a school-room, is also a very healthy place to play
in. Mr. Andrews, the immaculate teacher, is represented by the artist,
in my copy of the book, as seated in a chair, with a compass in one
hand resting upon a book, while behind him stretches the outline of a
map; the two boys stand in front of him like prisoners before the bar.
Here then is a new algebraic formula in the literature for the young.

Mrs. Barbauld thus represents a transition stage in juvenile writing;
education and narrative walk side by side. She made it possible, in
the future, for Peter Parley and for Rollo to thrive. Thomas Day
foreshadowed the method of retelling incidents from the classics and
from standard history and travel,--a form which is practised to a
great extent by our present writers, who thread diverse materials on a
slender wire of subsidiary story, and who, like Butterworth and Knox,
invent untiring families of travellers who go to foreign parts, who see
things, and then who talk out loud about them.

But before this secularisation gained marked hold, a new tributary is
to be noted, which flowed into the moral stream,--a tributary which
afforded the moral impulse a definite field to work in, which centred
its purpose upon a distinct class. For heretofore the writers of
juvenile literature had aimed for a general appeal. The struggle was
now to be between the Sunday-school and the text-book.


III. THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL; RAIKES; HANNAH MORE; MRS. TRIMMER.

If the Sunday-school movement had not assumed some proportions about
this time, it would have been necessary to create a practical outlet
for the moral energy which dominated the authors of whom we have been
writing. Had Robert Raikes not conceived his plan when he did, the
ethical impulse would have run riot in a much wilder fashion, and
would have done no good at all. For, whatever may be said against the
old-time Sunday-school in a critical vein, one cannot ignore that its
establishment brought immediate benefit. As it was, the new institution
furnished the objective point for which the didactic school was blindly
groping, and developed the idea of personal service. The social ideal
was beginning to germinate.

Robert Raikes (1735 or 6–1811) was by profession a printer. He was of
benevolent disposition and met with much to arouse his sympathy for the
lower classes, whom he found indifferent to religion and hopelessly
uncouth in their daily living. With the religious revival which
swept through England around 1770, caused by the preaching of George
Whitefield, Raikes began his work in earnest, first among the city
prisons, where he was brought in contact with surprising conditions
which had long lain in obscurity because of a wide-spread public
indifference.

His observation thus trained to follow along this particular social
line, he soon became attracted toward the children apprenticed to
a certain pin factory. He saw that the discipline of work, however
exacting, however it denied them the care and attention due to all
young persons, was the only restrictive guidance they had. When Sunday
came, they ran wild, relieved of duty, and not imbued with any idea
of personal control. Their elders were living immoral lives; they had
no opportunity or incentive to improve; and their natural inclination
was to follow animal impulse and blind desire. To such a religious man
as Raikes, the mandate, “Suffer little children to come unto me,” was
most naturally suggested by such circumstances. Some means of occupying
these children on the Sabbath day must be devised.

So it was that on January 26, 1781, the first Sunday-school was opened.
Raikes poured his whole energy into organization, and, through the
medium of his own paper, the Gloucester _Journal_, spread broadcast his
written suggestions about the work to be done, and his descriptions
of the particular localities which most needed attention. He was in a
position to gain publicity, and his own personal earnestness counted
for a great deal. Already we have noted his relationship to Newbery,
whose literary connections probably afforded Raikes some assistance.

The movement had been of five years’ growth, when, in 1786, Raikes
was summoned before King George III. Their Majesties, both the King
and Queen, were interested by what they had heard, and wished to know
something more. The Queen was being almost daily enthused through the
intensity of Mrs. Trimmer’s pleadings. This good lady, already known
for her children’s books, had put into operation a Sunday-school of her
own at Brentwood, and it was to this that the King had paid a memorable
visit, leaving behind him a reputation for “kind and condescending
behaviour,” which won the hearts of all the children. In this way was
the official sanction placed upon Christianity as a practical force;
there was even every prospect of starting a Sunday-school at Windsor.
“A general joy reigns among the conductors,” cried the enthusiastic
Mrs. Trimmer, when she realised what interest was being shown in every
quarter.

The programme framed for Raikes’s little protégés was indeed
sufficiently full to keep them from the highways. He writes:

“The children were to come after ten in the morning, and stay till
twelve; they were then to go home and return at one; and after reading
a lesson, they were to be conducted to Church. After Church, they were
to be employed in repeating the catechism till after five, and then
dismissed, with an injunction to go home without making a noise.”

Lamb and Leigh Hunt, when together at Christ Hospital, were regarded
as veritable monks in their knowledge of the Bible; but these little
waifs were slaves of a rigorous order; there was nothing voluntary in
their desire for spiritual light. The time was to arrive when more
sunshine was to be mixed with the teaching, but in the beginning it
was necessary for Raikes to keep the Sabbath forcibly observed rather
than to devise a less exacting routine. He went about, untiring in his
efforts; he plead personally with parents, besides hoping that, through
the moral instruction being given to their children, they might be made
to see the outlet for their own salvation.

Years after, testimony was obtained from the survivors of Raikes’s
discipline. One William Brick had been a scholar of his, and the memory
of those days was vivid--perhaps a little too much so, but none the
less picturesque:

“I can remember Mr. Raikes well enough,” he said. “I remember his
caning me. I don’t suppose I minded it much. He used to cane boys on
the back of a chair. Some terrible bad chaps went to school when I
first went.... I know the parents of one or two of them used to walk
them to school with 14-lb. weights tied to their legs, to keep them
from running away.... When a boy was very bad, he would take him out
of the school, and march him home and get his parents to ‘wallop’ him.
_He’d stop and see it done_, and then bring the young urchin back,
rubbing his eyes and other places.... Every one in the city loved and
feared him.”

Such a scene is not prepossessing; nor does moral suasion appear to
have been as efficacious as the rod. Besides which, Raikes had a way of
looking at a trembling victim through his reading-glass, and exclaiming
in thunderous voice: “Ah, I can see you did not say your prayers this
morning.” An old man of eighty spoke of this circumstance with deep
feeling; and, in awe-stricken tones, he ended by saying: “The boys
believed he could see through stone walls with that glass; _and it
magnified his eye_, so that they were sometimes frightened, and told
wonderful stories about what Mr. Raikes could do with his wonderful
glass.”

The immediate influence this movement had upon children’s books was
to create a demand for tracts. Later on, after Thomas Carlyle, in
1839, had plead the cause of London public libraries, it suggested a
special class of library as a part of the Sunday-school machinery. A
general call was raised for juvenile books of a strictly religious
nature, with an appeal intended for a poorer class of readers. Miss
Hannah More represents the chief exponent of this grade of writing.
“All service ranks alike with God,” says Browning. But these ladies,
who were untiring in their devotion to the cause, who were, in their
parochial character, forerunners of the social worker of to-day, each
was known through her special interest. We speak of Miss Catherine
Sinclair, author of “Holiday House,” as the first to introduce benches
in the parks of Edinburgh, as the originator of drinking-fountains, as
the founder of cooking-depots; of Priscilla Wakefield as the originator
of savings-banks for the poor; of Miss More as the author of tracts;
and of Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith, one of the forgotten New-England
writers, as the first to draw attention to the condition of the
newsboys. Mrs. Trimmer, therefore, is justly connected with the history
of the development of Sunday-schools.

In a tabular indication of the trend of juvenile literature, Sarah
Kirby Trimmer (1741–1810) may be said to have been a disciple of
Madame de Genlis and of Mrs. Barbauld, quite as much as a follower of
Rousseau and of Raikes; she inherited from her father an overweening
religious inclination, and several glimpses of her in the society of
the day reveal how deeply seated her serious nature was. In London
she talked with Dr. Johnson, Mr. Gainsborough, and Mr. Hogarth, and,
through recognised powers of reading aloud, she charmed many of her
friends. But it was a hopeless situation to cope with in a young girl,
when, a dispute having arisen between Sir Joshua Reynolds and one of
his friends, Sarah, being called upon to settle the point--a doubtful
passage in “Paradise Lost”--drew the volume from the pocket of her
skirt! At twenty-one she was married, destined to be the mother of six
sons and six daughters, and no sooner was the first child born than
she directed all of her attention, as Madame de Genlis did, to the
subject of education.

Wearisome it is to come in contact with a person of one idea. Mrs.
Trimmer naïvely confesses in her journal that she must have worn out
the patience of many a visitor with her views upon education. As the
years advanced, her opinions became more narrowed and more sectarian.

Mrs. Trimmer exhibited piety which was of the emotional, almost of the
hysterical kind, yet sincere in its whole-souled acceptance of Bible
truths. She questioned nothing; she believed with a simple faith that
lacked proportion. One has to view her entirely from the standpoint
of this single interest which had her under complete control. In her
“Guardian of Education” she dwelt much upon the dangerous matter
contained in children’s books; in her “New Plan of Education” she
condemned any attempt to extend the scope of education for the poor.
Her chief motive in both cases was to keep away from faith any cause
of its possible undoing. The earnestness put into her charity work,
her untiring devotion to the Sunday-school, a certain gentle charm
of conversation won for Mrs. Trimmer wide-spread attention. Her life
was guided by the belief in a divine mission; her days were well
ordered, from the hours before breakfast, which she reserved for the
learning of poetry, to the evenings, when she would give herself up
to meditation and prayer. In fact, during twenty-five years, she kept
a diary, penned in secret moments of retreat, a curious display of
over-welling feeling--pietistical neurasthenia. These pages are hardly
to be considered interpretative--they are outpourings, giving one an
awful sense of unworthiness, if life consists simply in submitting to
biblical strictures and in uttering biblical paraphrases.

But Mrs. Trimmer was withal an active little woman, whose three hours,
spent every Sunday over her journal, represented meditation only: in
her practise of Christianity she was zealous; and her pen was employed
in preparing the kind of food to foster a proper feeling among children
and cottagers and _servants_. In this latter respect there was a
change indeed from Miss Edgeworth, who considered the advisability
of separating young people entirely from any possible contact with
servants.

Among her children and her grandchildren, Mrs. Trimmer exerted profound
influence; the Sabbath day was observed with great strictness; toys
set aside while Stackhouse’s “Commentary on the Bible”[34] was brought
forth to look at; stories were told, and the progress of Bible heroes
traced upon maps of the Holy Land. The spirit of rest and peace
followed Mrs. Trimmer, who was averse to reading books of controversy.
We are given a picture of her in her venerable old age, walking with
her grandson among the plants and flowers, while she explained, with
a certain lyric simplicity, the truths, as she saw them with her meek
spirit, underlying the growth of the grass; and described the flight of
a sparrow which escaped not the notice of God. There was thus unfolded
to this little boy the holiness of all things in nature, permeated with
a divine grace; he was made to consider the lilies of the field, and
not a bush but might become to him a burning flame, not a stone but
might be rent asunder by the resurrection of a dried-up seed.

Mrs. Trimmer’s “Easy Lessons for Children,” her “Easy Introduction
to the Knowledge of Nature,” her “Sacred History for Young Persons,”
and her works explaining the catechism, were among the rare books
available for the purposes of Raikes’s followers. They were easily
understood; they explained satisfactorily for children, according to
grown-up standards, certain religious teachings. In the Catholic church
to-day, Mother Loyola is said to possess that same ability to unfold
the meaning of the most difficult doctrine so that Catholic children
can understand. Priests turn to her books rather than trust to their
own interpretations. The general interest aroused for the poor, for the
lower classes, appealed to Mrs. Trimmer; she became wholly absorbed;
she wrote “The Servant’s Friend” and edited a “Family Magazine,”
intended for their special instruction and amusement. Adopting Madame
de Genlis’s idea of using prints as a factor in nursery education, she
prepared a series of illustrations from ancient history and from the
Old Testament; and was further engaged in the simplification of Roman
and English history for young readers.

The book that has come down to us as representing Mrs. Trimmer’s work,
“The History of the Robins,” is a nature story of no mean value,
easy in narrative and full of appeal for very young persons who are
interested in simple incident. To American readers it is now available
in a cut-up state, for Dr. Edward Everett Hale, in editing it, called
the style “stilted” and diffuse, and thought that its unity could
better be preserved by dealing only with the robins, and not at all
with the extraneous doings of the Benson family.

When the Lambs removed to Enfield in 1827, Thomas Westwood, a boy of
thirteen, lived near them. It was not long before he and Elia were on
intimate terms, and he must have had exceptional merit for Lamb to give
him free entrée to his books. “Lamb,” so he has recorded, “initiated
me into a school of literature which Mrs. Trimmer might not have
considered the most salutary under the circumstances. Beaumont and
Fletcher, Webster, Farquhar, Defoe, Fielding,--these were the pastures
in which I delighted to graze in those early years; and which, in
spite of Trimmer, I believe did me less evil than good.”

An alteration in attitude appears to have been going on in several
directions; the social strata were readjusting themselves. For Hannah
More (1745–1833), it is claimed, stood at the parting of the roadways,
where clergymen and schoolmasters, once frowned upon as quite inferior
beings, now took positions of a higher nature. Had Miss More not thrown
herself so heartily into the moral movement, she might have occupied
a much more important position in English letters than she does. One
cannot help feeling that, by the part she took in the Sunday-school
development, she sacrificed her genius to a cause. In the biographies
of these well-intentioned writers for children and for poor people,
it is always satisfactory to linger, wherever opportunity presents,
on the genial aspects of their lives; they are estimated in criticism
so greatly by the weight, or by the lack of weight, of their ideas,
that the human value which existed at the time is often lost sight
of. However dry their preachments, their social lives were warmed by
human intercourse and human service. It is hard to forget such a group
as Scott, Maria and Patty Edgeworth, and others, listening to Patty
while she sang Irish melodies. A similar scene is associated with Sally
and Hannah More when they went to call on Dr. Johnson. He was not at
home, and the two, left together in the autocrat’s sanctum, disported
themselves in mock humour. Hannah approached his great chair, and sat
pompously in it, hoping to catch some of his genius. Can you not hear
Johnson’s laughter as he bluntly told her, when he was informed of the
incident, that he rarely sat in that particular chair?

Mrs. Barbauld was no less clever than Hannah More in the handling of
witty verse; in fact, the latter was ever ready with her gifts in the
drawing-room, and added generously her share to the circle gathered
around the actor, David Garrick. He it was who had sufficient faith in
Miss More’s dramatic ability to present two of her plays. Even at that
time she had a reputation among her associates for being very strict
in her religious observances; for one evening, it being Sunday, and
Garrick not averse to piano-playing, he turned to “Nine,” as he called
her, thus indicating that she was a favoured one among the muses, and
told her to leave the room, promising to call her back when the music
was over.

Hannah More’s social work is to be considered from the year (1789) that
Mr. Wilberforce, one of her close friends, discovered the deplorable
conditions existing in the districts around Cheddarcliff. Her long
intercourse with the Garricks, and her various literary endeavours
which took form during 1782 in her “Sacred Dramas” for the young, have
no direct bearing upon her connection with the religious movement
which places her in the general scheme with Robert Raikes and Mrs.
Trimmer. Patty More had had, at an earlier period, large experience in
school-teaching, and this was to prove of inestimable service, for it
was with her assistance that Hannah carried on the work in the Mendip
mining districts. The two met with some opposition, not only from the
classes for whom they were specially striving, but from those who, less
broad than themselves, held views regarding the Sunday-school that
placed spirituality above the actual needs of the poverty-stricken
communities. But, throughout, the Mores never swerved from their set
purpose, even though illness overtook them and made the situation still
harder than it was. For they were forced to ride many miles from their
home, at first unknown in the region they had elected to benefit, a
region cursed by ignorance, plagued by license, and wherein assault was
a common incident.

“Miss Wilberforce would have been shocked,” writes Hannah More, “could
she have seen the petty tyrants whose insolence we stroked, the ugly
children we fondled, the pointers and spaniels we caressed, the cider
we commended, and the wine we swallowed.”

A study of the centres established by these sisters, and which
gradually exerted an influence over twenty-eight miles of territory,
a distance traversed in a manner not unlike the journey of the
circuit-riders who are to be met with throughout the mountain
districts of the South, would throw considerable light on English
labour conditions as they then existed. The setting is an isolated wild
land, thus described by Miss More:

“Several of the grown-up youths had been tried at the last assizes;
three were the children of a person lately condemned to be hanged; many
thieves,--all ignorant, profane, and vicious beyond belief. Of this
banditti, we have enlisted 170; and when the clergyman, a hard man, who
is also the magistrate, saw these creatures kneeling around us, whom
he had seldom seen but to commit, or punish in some way, he burst into
tears.”

The work grew with the months, and mention is soon made of nine hundred
children flocking to a Mendip feast--little ones whose brightest
moments were centred in the regular visits of these ministering ladies.

Miss More’s powers were exerted toward counteracting the ideas being
spread by the French Revolution; both high and low were struggling
against them; they nearly swamped the genius of Wordsworth. Though she
rejoiced in the fall of the Bastille, she deplored the deification
of Nature and the reign of Reason, and vented her sarcasm on the
philosophy of Paine. Her chief alarm was felt for the effect such
opinions might have upon the middle class of England. But, despite
her conservatism, Miss More was regarded as too strong-minded
for religious work; the High Church accused her of too marked an
independence. She was advised, much to her own amusement, to publish a
confession of her faith. The discussion which ensued need not occupy
us; it may, perhaps, have infused into her juvenile tracts a more
determined tone, but it did not originally encourage her in their
composition.

This was brought about through a desire to give the children of the
poor districts religious literature as soon as they were able to
read. Mrs. Trimmer was the only author then available, and her books
were too expensive for the masses. The More sisters, therefore,
soliciting the interest of the Duke of Gloucester, brother of George
III, began the publication of the tracts, three a month, containing
short talks, ballads, and moral tales. These were scattered broadcast
over the country. The scheme lasted from 1794 to 1797, when they were
forced to discontinue it, for lack of pecuniary backing. But, during
the time, collections of “Repository Tracts” had been brought into
existence, which, for at least a quarter of a century, were to stand
representative of the best kind of reading for the poor.

A long list of books comprises the literary activity of Hannah
More,[35] but it is by such volumes as her “Christian Morals,” “Hints
toward Forming the Character of a Young Princess [Charlotte, Princess
of Wales],” “Practical Piety,” “The Spirit of Prayer,” “Strictures
on the Modern System of Female Education,” and “Thoughts on the
Importance of Manners” that her genuine art is overclouded. In her
“Repository Tracts,” she was content to approach the poor as a class,
nor was she willing to allow herself to forget for an instant that,
because of their poverty, they were a type of inferior being. Her
object was to make them content with their lot in life, and to have
them feel comfortable and worthy within their particular sphere. They
were potential with the strength that might place them at the head of
their class, but could not carry them outside of it. An insurmountable
barrier was thought to stretch between the high and low.

“The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain” is considered the most famous of Miss
More’s tracts. They all are redolent with the common moral ideal, but
the local colour in them is real and the glimpses of the poor people,
their homes, customs, beliefs, hopes, and despairs are described
with minute vividness and with much feeling. Whatever brightness they
contain is the sort that is gained by way of contrast,--an ethical
resolve to show that things are not so bad that they may not still be
worse. “Father,” says the little girl, “I wish I was big enough to say
grace. I am sure I would say it heartily to-day; for I was thinking
what _poor_ people do who have no salt to their potatoes.”

The standard is a narrow one; the child who does not go to church
is the bad child; the lack of a new gown fades before the delights
over owning a new Bible. Instead of marking books, as the Edgeworths
advised, Miss More italicised the passages worthy of memorising. Honest
toil is the subject-matter of these stories; the village is the scene
of many a vexation. The gaining of knowledge is only a means toward a
better understanding of the catechism; one’s duty is to learn to read,
else the Holy Writ is a closed subject. There is no aim to carry the
children outside of themselves by means of the highest imagination;
they are told how they are to cope with their own environment, how to
remain satisfied with their own station. They must be rich Christians,
but still remain poor people.

Although Walpole retracted some of the harsh censure which he at first
heaped upon Hannah More, he was not far wrong in his condemnation
of her “ill-natured strictures.” The person who does not recognise
a tendency, in all this literature, “to protract the imbecility of
childhood,” “to arrest the understanding instead of advancing it,” “to
give forwardness without strength” has failed to understand the true
function of a child’s book--to afford the nursery a good time, is the
way Mr. Lucas expresses it.

Was there not something in this religious one-sidedness to belittle the
true dignity of the spirit?[36] Heaven lies about us in our infancy,
and we find ourselves in a beautiful land of promise; we are placed
therein to face the years; by experience, by training, by guidance
along the lines of our own natures, we are prepared to understand
something of the character of the way we shall have to tread alone. We
should be made to face the future, but not to discount the present.
We find ourselves defined by circumstances, but we need not remain
slaves to them. To stigmatise a class in literature is to stigmatise
a reader. Miss More and her contemporaries never questioned their
social attitude--whether it was just or broad or transitory. Full of
the pioneer work which they were doing, they did not recognise the
right for the poor which was already the right for the rich. Juvenile
literature was not for the heart of all youth, but for the benefaction
of this one and of that. And while the educational idea broadened
and was to advance with the scientific spirit on the one hand, on the
other, it had narrowed and was destined for a long, monotonous struggle
with the conscious Sunday-school tale. This character of story was
flat and void, and, because removed from the reality of nature, it was
robbed of the inherent spirit of truth. It identified religion with
literary meekness.


IV. THE POETS: WATTS; JANE AND ANN TAYLOR; WILLIAM BLAKE.

  _Everything depends on the reality of a poet’s classic character.
  If he is a dubious classic, let us sift him; if he is a false
  classic, let us explode him. But if he is a real classic, if his
  work belongs to the class of the very best (for this is the true
  and right meaning of the word_ classic, classical), _then the great
  thing for us is to feel and enjoy his work as deeply as ever we
  can, and to appreciate the wide difference between it and all work
  which has not the same high character. This is what is salutary,
  this is what is formative; this is the great benefit to be got from
  the study of poetry. Everything which interferes with it, which
  hinders it, is injurious._--_Matthew Arnold_, in “The Study of
  Poetry.”

We have progressed sufficiently in our outline to begin showing the
links that bind the past with the present. To dwell upon more writers
of the generation just treated is simply to repeat the same essential
characteristics of the type. These authors all used the medium of
prose in their desire to give young people books suitable to their
comprehension. But there were a few poets who braved the intricacies
of verse, and who wrote some very simple and pleasing lyrics, which
have survived the change in spirit, and form some of the most agreeable
pages in our children’s anthologies. It will be recollected that Mrs.
Barbauld feared poetry would not be understood, and so she wrote her
volume of prose pieces which acted as a substitute.

Wordsworth himself could not have demanded a more careful attention
to the simplicity of word selection than that paid by Dr. Isaac Watts
(1674–1748), who, though not first in the field of hymn-writers, for
his immediate predecessor was Bishop Thomas Ken[37] (1637–1711), author
of “Morning and Daily Hymns,” was nevertheless one of the very first
consciously to pen a book of verse for a juvenile public.

Not only was he actively engaged in the interests of education, but,
during his famous thirty-six years’ spent as visitor in the household
of Sir Thomas Abney, of Newington, he crystallised his ideas on
education, and incorporated them in his “The Improvement of the Mind:
To which is added A Discourse on the Education of Children and Youth.”

This treatise may be regarded as a fair example of the pre-Rousseau
style of pedagogy. The child was measured in terms of sectarian
standards, it being assumed that the first step was to impress him
with the truth that his very nature was sinful, and that it could be
shrived only by having the mind centred always upon holy thoughts.
The religion of the closet must be held above every pleasure. Yet Dr.
Watts notices that such pleasures are increasing to an alarming state;
that children are rebelling against Puritan principles. His sternness
relents, in so far as he would allow children to play draughts and
chess, and to amuse themselves with games which might instruct them in
the rudiments of grammar and geometry.

Though there are not many who would discountenance his diatribe against
the gaming table, the dangers besetting midnight revellers, and the
freedom which results in immorality, one cannot but view with distrust
the strictures which would turn girls into dowdy creatures and boys
into prigs. The theoretical predecessors of Rousseau’s Émile were the
two creations of Dr. Watts,--Eugenio and Phronissa--his ideal children,
combining those qualities which rob youth of all charm. Theirs must
have been wearisome lives. The boy, we are told, “is an entertaining
companion to the gay young gentlemen, his equals; and yet divines and
philosophers take pleasure to have Eugenio amongst them.” Dr. Watts
never deigned to tell us what requirements Eugenio set for the staid
divines, or whether he tried to get away from them. And Phronissa: she
stands before us now, in attitude betokening detestation of the stage,
and we hear her proclaiming the song and the dance as her meanest
pleasures--talents not to be proud of!

Two points are worthy of note in Dr. Watts’s book. Despite his many
limitations which argued for piousness and for the composure of the
youthful spirit; despite his disapproval of all exercise which might
turn one’s thoughts away from the prescribed paths, he was nevertheless
a pleader in the cause of advance. For what he lays down as educational
theory he would have parents hearken to; in his eyes the bringing up of
youth is a sacred duty, involving obligations of a delicate nature. He
would emphasise the responsibility of the Home; he would have parents
eager to see the moral laws obeyed by their children. He would have
education applied equally as well to girls as to boys; in fact, so Dr.
Watts confesses, in tones as though he were making a great concession,
the habit of reading is quite as important to the former as to the
latter.

Dark as the days may seem in the lives of those children educated
according to theories and tracts, the lighter recreations must have
brightened moments unrecorded. Even John Locke (1632–1704), in his
“Thoughts on Education” (1693), recommends besides the Psalter and the
New Testament, Æsop and Reynard the Fox, as good food for infant minds.
This was an excellent basis to start upon.

The two small volumes of “Divine Songs, Attempted in Easy Language
for the Use of Children” [editions, New York: Mahlon Day; Cambridge:
1803] which I have examined, bear upon the fly-leaves tales recorded
in uncertain handwriting. The one has, “To ----, a present from his
Mamma”; the other, “---- his Book: If this should be lost and you
should _fine_, Return to me, for it is _mine_.”

“You will find here nothing that savours of party,” says the poet in
his foreword. “... As I have endeavoured to sink the language to the
level of a child’s understanding, and yet to keep it, if possible,
above contempt, so I have designed to profit all, if possible, and to
offend none.”

Yet the usual theological doctrines reek from every page; there is much
of the tenor of the “New England Primer” in the verses. The wonder is
that with all their atmosphere of brimstone and sulphur, with all their
effort to present _to_ the child grown-up beliefs in simple doses,
the poems still retain a spontaneity, a sweet, quaint simplicity that
strike the sympathy, if they do not entirely appeal to the fancy.
“His dreadful Majesty” is more suited to Milton than to a song; “How
doth the little busy bee,” though not yet in accord with the lyrist’s
pure, unfeigned delight in nature, is overtopping in childish appeal,
“The eternal God will not disdain, To hear an infant cry.” We pit an
understanding of childhood’s graces against that old-time theory of
inherited ruin. There has been a revulsion of feeling which tends to
bring the heart much nearer the soul, and to give to the nursery the
sanctified love of good rather than the abiding fear of evil.

There is a picture in Lamb’s “Books for Children” [ed. E. V. Lucas],
showing the ark with the animals in their symmetrically built stalls.
The clouds are rolling over the waters with as much substantial outline
as though they were balls of cotton; there is interest for a child in
the close examination of this graphic art, which is done with that
surety as though the artist had been on the spot. The reproduction was
made from Stackhouse’s Bible, with which Mrs. Trimmer used to amuse
her young folks on Sundays. Your wooden Noah’s Ark, with the sticky
animals, was built along the same lines. Dr. Watts’s poems have been
illustrated many times in similar conventional fashion. One cut in
particular represented creation by a dreadful lion and a marvellous
tiger, anatomically wonderful.

Though parts of the Bible have been paraphrased by Dr. Watts as well
as such can ever be done; though ducks and lambs and doves, symbols of
simplicity, take one to the open, there is no breath of clover sweeping
across the page. It is by such a beautiful cradle hymn as “Holy angels
guard thy bed,” which is to be treasured with Martin Luther’s exquisite
“Hymn to the Christ Child,” that this poet deserves to be remembered.

Always the truest verse, the truest sentiment, the truest regard for
children are detected in that retrospective tone--the eternal note of
sadness, as Matthew Arnold phrases it--in which grown people speak of
the realm of youth lost to them; not the sentimental stooping, not the
condescending superiority,--but a yearning note brought about by the
tragedy of growing up,--a yearning that passeth understanding, and that
returns with every flash of the remembered child you were.

The Taylors of Ongar, the two sisters, Ann (1782–1866) and Jane
(1783–1824), are the poets of the didactic era; they apply to verse
the same characteristics Miss More introduced in her tracts--a
sympathetic feeling, but a false tenderness. They are not doctrinal
in their “Original Poems for Infant Minds,” but are generally and
genuinely ethical. Their attitude is different from that of Watts;
they attempt to interpret feelings and impressions in terms of the
child’s own comprehension. But so far were they ruled by the customary
requirements of their time, that they falsely endowed the juvenile mind
with the power of correlating external beauty with its own virtuous
possibilities. The simplicity of Jane’s “The Violet” and “Thank you,
Pretty Cow” is marked by an unnatural discrimination on the part of the
children from whom such sentiments are supposed to flow; these defects
detract from many a delicate verse deserving of better acquaintance
than “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

The Taylors wrote together for a number of years; they opened a
field of interest in and kindness to animals; their verse abounds
in the beginnings of a spontaneous love of nature. Their children
troop past us, the industrious boy and the idle boy, the rich and the
poor. They are not active children; their positions are fixed ones
of contemplation, of inward communing, not of participation. Yet the
sweet spirit predominates, and the simple words are not robbed of
their purity and strength. However, their desire “to abridge every
poetic freedom and figure” dragged them often into absurdities. This
is the great danger in writing simple verse; unless its excellence
is dominant, it shows its weakness; the outline of lyric beauty must
have perfect symmetry; the slightest falsity in imagery, the slightest
departure from consistency and truth, destroys the whole.[38]

Jane, when she was very small, used to edify her neighbours by
preaching to them; this impulse found expression later in a series of
hymns. Ann also composed religious songs which in quality are superior
to those of her sister. The literary association of the two lasted
until 1812, when Ann was sought in marriage by a Mr. Gilbert; this
negotiation was consummated by letter before they had even met.

A further advance in the art of children’s verse was made when William
Blake (1757–1827) wrote his “Songs of Innocence,” and infused into
them a light spirit of grace and of joy. Strangely, he had difficulty
in disposing of his poems; on this account, he determined to prepare
the plates for them himself. The drawings which resulted proved to
be some of his very best art work. Through his acquaintance with
Godwin, he was employed to illustrate many of the books issuing from
Mrs. Godwin’s publishing house, and it has not yet been fully settled
whether or not he made the original illustrations for the Lambs’ “Tales
from Shakespeare.” He was employed to engrave the plates for Mary
Wollstonecraft’s translation of Salzmann’s “Elements of Morality.”

We detect in Blake’s verses the apt blending of grown-up regard for
childhood, with the ready response of childhood to grown-up love. By
his exuberance, by his fancy, by his simple treatment he set a standard
which is the same that dominates the best of Wordsworth and Christina
Rossetti. Stevenson later carried forward the art, by adding thereto
a touch as though youth, fearful of growing up, knew something of the
heavy burden of man’s estate. Thus does Blake express infant joy:

    “I have no name:
    I am but two days old.”
    What shall I call thee?
    “I happy am,
    Joy is my name.”
    Sweet joy befall thee.

The crystal clearness in such sentiment is born of our adult reverence.
Again he makes the nurse in one of his poems sing:

    “Then come home, my children, the sun is going down,
    And the dews of night arise;
    Come, come, leave off play, and let us away
    Till the morning appears in the skies.”

A child appreciates such mellow tones; there is no reaching down; the
picture is distinct, reduced to its truest sentiment. It contains
traceries of action, and fairest hints of beneficent nature. It gives a
promise of to-morrow. There is no herding into the land of sleep. Let
_us_ away! Do you not feel the distinction of dignity in it, rather
than “get _you_ to bed”?

In Stevenson’s verse the dominant note is retrospective; he returns
to childhood with his quota of world experience; he slips into the
youthful state, glad of being there once more, yet knowing what it all
means to have to leave it again. Night fears and day joys flow through
his lines:

    Away down the river,
      A hundred miles or more,
    Other little children
      Shall bring my boats ashore.

There is the preternatural strain of sadness in the make-up of youth;
they like to discover in their elders those same characteristics they
possess; they will creep to the strong arm of him who marvels as they
do at the mystery of silent things. Such a one, even though grown-up,
is worth while; he knows what it is to be in bed in summer with “the
birds still hopping on the grass”; he knows what it is to be a child.
Stevenson, the man, becomes the remembered boy.

The poetry for children that has lived is of that quality which appeals
to the pristine sense of all that is fair and good and beautiful.
Tender love, unfettered joy, protecting gentleness recognise no age;
we, who are no longer young, look through the barred gates and up the
gravel road, flanked by the dense freshness of green. Somewhere we
hear the splash of water, far off we see the intense white of marble.
Clinging to the iron bars outside, we watch the girl and boy, we
count their footprints in the sand. They stoop to pick the violets as
we stooped years ago; they look into the basin of clear water as we
looked years ago. And then the path curves out of view. Here is where
our appreciative contemplation of childhood becomes self-conscious;
we cannot _see_ the little ones doing what we did in years gone by.
Perhaps this, perhaps that; we have our first _moral_ doubt. Through
the bars we call to the childhood of our memory; we call it to come
back. The poet has but to sing of what he found beyond that bend when
he was young, of the child he was, who once looked up at him from the
clear depths; the boy and girl will creep down the gravel path again,
they will marvel at what is told them of revolving suns, of the lost
childhood, of the flight of birds, and of the shiver of grass. Let the
poet but sing in true notes, making appeal to their imagery, giving
them vigour in exchange for their responsiveness, and understanding
in exchange for their trust; they will return, even to the iron gate,
and take him by the hand. This is what it means to be the laureate of
childhood.


V. CHARLES AND MARY LAMB; THE GODWINS.

A story is told of Charles Lamb which, in view of actual facts, one
must necessarily disbelieve. It is to the effect that, dining out one
evening, he heard in an adjoining room the noise of many children. With
his glass filled, he rose from his chair and drank the toast, “Here’s
to the health of good King Herod.” Instinctively, those familiar with
Elia will recollect his “Dream Children,” and wonder how any critic
could reconcile the two attitudes. Lamb had an abiding love for young
people and a keen understanding of their natures.

As writers of juvenile literature, Charles (1775–1834) and Mary
(1765–1847) Lamb might never have been known, had it not been for
William Godwin (1756–1836) and his second wife. The two began a
publishing business, in 1805, under the firm name of M. J. Godwin
and Company. The only details that concern us are those which began
and ended with the Lambs and their work. Godwin, himself, under the
pseudonym of Baldwin, turned out literary productions of various kinds.
But though, during one period, there was every sign of a flourishing
trade, by 1822 the business was bankrupt.

The Lambs regarded their writings for children as pot-boilers; letters
from them abound with such confessions. But it was in their natures to
treat their work lovingly; their own personalities entered the text;
they drew generously upon themselves; and so their children’s books
are filled with their own experiences, and are, in many respects,
as autobiographical as the “Essays of Elia.” Mary undertook by far
the larger number of the volumes which are usually accredited to her
brother; in fact, wherever the two collaborated, Lamb occupied a
secondary place.

The following list indicates the division of labour:

THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS, 1805. Lamb’s first juvenile work.

TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE, 1807. Lamb wrote to Manning, May 10, 1806:
    “I have done ‘Othello’ and ‘Macbeth,’ and mean to do all the
    tragedies. I think it will be popular among the little people,
    besides money.”

ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES, 1808. “Intended,” as Lamb told Manning, “to
    be an introduction to the reading of Telemachus; it is done out
    of the ‘Odyssey,’ not from the Greek. I would not mislead you;
    nor yet from Pope’s ‘Odyssey,’ but from an older translation of
    one Chapman. The ‘Shakespeare Tales’ suggested doing it.” Lamb’s
    delight in Chapman was as unalloyed as that of Keats.

MRS. LEICESTER’S SCHOOL, 1809. Issued anonymously, hence commonly
    ascribed to Lamb. The greater part of the work belongs to Mary; it
    seems to have been her idea originally. Lamb to Barton, January 23,
    1824: “My Sister’s part in the Leicester School (about two-thirds)
    was purely her own; as it was (to the same quantity) in the
    Shakespeare Tales which bear my name. I wrote only the Witch Aunt,
    the First Going to Church, and the final story about a little
    Indian Girl in a Ship.”

POETRY FOR CHILDREN, 1809. Lamb claimed about one-third of the book as
    his own. Mr. Lucas believes that Mrs. Godwin issued these verses to
    compete with the Taylors and Adelaide O’Keeffe.

PRINCE DORUS OR FLATTERY PUT OUT OF COUNTENANCE, 1811. Robinson wrote:
    “I this year tried to persuade him [Lamb] to make a new version of
    the old Tale of Reynard the Fox. He said he was sure it would not
    succeed--sense for humour, said L., is extinct.” “Prince Dorus” was
    done instead.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, 1811. Authorship doubtful.


There is something keenly pathetic in noting the brother and sister
at work in the interests of children, hoping to add to their yearly
income--sitting down together and thinking out conceptions for their
juvenile poems and stories. Mary Lamb reveals, by those smaller
elements in her prose, a keener discernment of what a child’s book
should be; she is far more successful than her brother in entering into
the spirit of the little lives she writes about, while Lamb himself is
happiest in his touches where he is handling the literary subjects.[39]
But on the whole, Lamb’s style was not suited to the making of
children’s books. We see them, while writing the Shakespeare Tales,
seated at one table, “an old literary Darby and Joan,” Mary tells Sarah
Stoddart, “I taking snuff and he groaning all the while, and saying he
can make nothing of it, which he always says till he has finished, and
then he finds out he has made something of it....”

Mrs. Godwin doubtless conceived her system of advertising direct from
Newbery; in the story of “Emily Barton,” which forms part of “Mrs.
Leicester’s School,” Mary Lamb tells how Emily’s papa ordered the
coachman to drive to the Juvenile Library in Skinner street [No. 41],
where seven books were bought, “and the lady in the shop persuaded him
to take more, but mamma said that was quite enough at present.”

By this, the Lambs indicated a willingness to accord with any
business suggestions which might further the interests of the
Godwins; nevertheless, they were not so bound that they could not act
independently. And, in view of the fact that Lamb disliked Mrs. Godwin,
there was a certain graciousness revealed in the concessions they did
make from time to time. Elia was to discover that Godwin had his eye
alert for any unnecessary element of cruelty which might creep into
their books for children. When the publishers were given the manuscript
of “Ulysses,” Godwin wrote a letter to Lamb, on March 10, 1808, which,
with the answer, is worth quoting, since the attitude is one to be
considered by all writers and by all library custodians.

  DEAR LAMB:

  I address you with all humility, because I know you to be _tenax
  propositi_. Hear me, I entreat you, with patience.

  It is strange with what different feelings an author and a
  bookseller look at the same manuscript. I know this by experience:
  I was an author, I am a bookseller. The author thinks what will
  conduce to his honour; the bookseller, what will cause his
  commodities to sell.

  You, or some other wise man, I have heard to say [it was Johnson]:
  It is children that read children’s books, when they are read,
  but it is parents that choose them. The critical thought of the
  tradesman puts itself therefore into the place of the parent, and
  what the parent will condemn.

  We live in squeamish days. Amid the beauties of your manuscript,
  of which no man can think more highly than I do, what will the
  squeamish say to such expressions as these, ‘devoured their limbs,
  yet warm and trembling, lapping the blood,’ page 10. Or to the
  giant’s vomit, page 14, or to the minute and shocking description
  of the extinguishing the giant’s eye in the page following. You,
  I dare say, have no formed plan of excluding the female sex from
  among your readers, and I, as a bookseller, must consider that, if
  you have, you exclude one half of the human species.

  Nothing is more easy than to modify these things if you please, and
  nothing, I think, is more indispensable....

The main argument here stated daily confronts the librarian and the
author; it is one so often over-considered, that in its wake it leaves
a diluted literature, mild in expression, faint in impression, weak in
situation, and lacking in colour. There is a certain literary style
that, through zealous regard for refinement, misses the rugged vitality
which marks the old-time story, and which constitutes its chief hold
upon life. On the other hand, children need very little stimulation,
provided it is virile, to set them in active accord; and it is wise
for publishers to consider the omissions of those unnecessary details,
situations, or actions, without which the story is in no way harmed.
But to curtail or to dilute the full meaning, to give a part for the
whole, has resulted in producing so many versions of the same tale or
legend as to make the young reader doubt which is the correct one; and
in most cases leave in him no desire to turn to the original source.
On your library shelves, are you to have five or six versions of the
same story, issued by as many rival publishing houses, or are you to
discard them all and take only that one which is _nearest_ the original
in spirit and in general excellence?

Lamb here brushed against the problem of writing for the popular taste.
This is how he met it:

                                                     MARCH 11, 1808.
  DEAR GODWIN:

  The giant’s vomit was perfectly nauseous, and I am glad you pointed
  it out. I have removed the objection. To the other passages I can
  find no objection but what you may bring to numberless passages
  besides, such as of Scylla snatching up the six men, etc.,--that is
  to say, they are lively images of _shocking_ things. If you want
  a book which is not occasionally to _shock_, you should not have
  thought of a tale which is so full of anthropophagi and wonders. I
  cannot alter these things without enervating the Book, and I will
  not alter them if the penalty should be that you and all the London
  booksellers should refuse it. But speaking as author to author, I
  must say that I think _the terrible_ in those two passages seems
  to me so much to preponderate over the nauseous as to make them
  rather fine than disgusting. [Remember, this is spoken by one who
  in youth was sensitive and whose feelings are graphically set forth
  in “Witches, and Other Night Fears.”]... I only say that I will not
  consent to alter such passages, which I know to be some of the best
  in the book. As an author, I say to you, an author, Touch not my
  work. As to a bookseller I say, Take the work, such as it is, or
  refuse it. You are free to refuse it as when we first talked of it.
  As to a friend I say, Don’t plague yourself and me with nonsensical
  objections. I assure you I will not alter one more word.

Lamb’s critical genius often showed remarkable subtlety in the fine
distinctions drawn between shades of effect which are produced by art.
He established, through his careful analyses, an almost new critical
attitude toward Shakespeare; and, in days when psychology as a study
was unknown, when people witnessed the different phases of emotional
life and judged them before formulæ were invented by which to test
them scientifically, he saw, with rare discrimination, the part that
the spiritual value of literature was to play in the development of
culture. He here weighs in the balance a fine terror with a nauseous
scene; such a difference presupposes a clear insight into the story and
a power to arrive at the full meaning at once; it infers an instinctive
knowledge of the whole gamut of possible effects. Lamb’s plea to Godwin
is the plea of the man who would rather keep a child in the green
fields than have him spend his time on wishy-washy matter.

The whole discussion resolves itself into the question: How much of
the brute element, in which early literature abounds, is to be given
to children? Shall they be made to fear unnecessarily, shall the
ugly phases of life be allowed, simply because they come through the
ages stamped as classic? All due consideration must be paid to the
sensitiveness of childhood; but in what manner? Not by catering to it,
not by eliminating the cause from the story without at the same time
seeking to strengthen the inherent weakness of the child. Dr. Felix
Adler[40] would remove from our folk-lore all the excrescences that
denote a false superstition and that create prejudice of any kind;
he would have bad stepmothers taken from the fairy tales, because an
unjust hatred for a class is encouraged; he would prune away whatever
is of no ornamental or ethical value. Assuredly it is best, as Dr.
Adler points out, “to eliminate ... whatever is merely a relic of
ancient animism.” Mr. Howells believes that it is our pedant pride
which perpetuates the beast man in our classics, and it is true that
some of our literature has lived in spite of that characteristic, and
not because of it. But who is to point this beast man out for us, who
is to judge whether this or that corrupts, who to eliminate and who to
recreate? The classics would have to be rewritten whenever there was a
shift in moral viewpoint.

A mushroom growth of story-writers, those who “tame” our fairy tales,
who dilute fancy with sentimentalism, and who retell badly what has
been told surpassing well, threatens to choke the flower. It is not
the beast man in classic literature we have to fear so much as the
small man of letters, enthused by the educational idea, who rewrites
to order, and does not put into his text any of the invigorating
spirit which marks all truly great literature. We have always to return
to the ultimate goal, to the final court of appeal. If there is too
much brutal strength in a story intended for children, it had best be
read or told to them, rather than place in their hands what is not
literature but the mere husk.

Such a letter as Lamb wrote to Godwin leads us to feel that at times
misgivings seized him as to his own mutilation of Homer and of his
much-beloved Chapman. But such hesitancy is the exception and not the
rule to-day.

As poets for children the Lambs strike their most artificial note; the
verses are forced and written according to prescribed formulæ. There
is a mechanical effort in them to appear youthful, as though before
setting to the task--for so the two called it--a memorandum of childish
deeds and thoughts and expressions had been drawn up, from which each
was to extract inspiration. But inspiration is sorely lacking; to
most of the poems you can apply the stigma of “old maids” children;
there is little that is naturally playful or spontaneously appealing
in sentiment. Such lines as “Crumbs to the Birds” are unaffected and
simple, and the paraphrase “On the Lord’s Prayer” aptly interpretative.
But on the whole, the verses are stilted; the feeling in them comes not
from the authors so much as it indicates how carefully it was thought
out by them. We find Lamb making excuses to Coleridge in June, 1809:
“Our little poems are ... humble, but they have no name. You must read
them, remembering they were task-work; and perhaps you will admire the
number of subjects, all of children, picked out by an old bachelor and
an old maid. Many parents would not have found so many.”

It is this utmost sincerity and such a naïve confession which make
Charles Lamb one of the most lovable figures in English literature.


                        =Bibliographical Note=

LUCAS, E. V.--Old-Fashioned Tales. Selected by. London, Wells, Gardner,
    Darton & Co.; New York, Stokes.

LUCAS, E. V.--Forgotten Tales of Long Ago. Selected by. London, Wells,
    Gardner, Darton & Co.; New York, Stokes, 1906.

MORLEY, JOHN--Jean Jacques Rousseau. Macmillan.

ROUSSEAU, JEAN JACQUES--Émile; or, Treatise on Education. Abridged and
    Translated by W. H. Payne. (International Educational Series.) New
    York, Appleton, 1893.

       *       *       *       *       *

DE GENLIS, COMTESSE, As an Educator. _Nation_, 73: 183 (Sept. 5, ’01).

DE GENLIS, COUNTESS, Memoirs of the. Illustrative of the History of
    the 18th and 19th Century. Written by herself. (2 vols.) [English
    translation.] New York, Wilder & Campbell, 1825.

DE GENLIS, COMTESSE--Théâtre d’Éducation. (5 vols.) Paris, 1825.

DE GENLIS, COMTESSE--Adelaide and Theodore. Letters on
    Education,--containing all the principles relative to three
    different plans of education; to that of princes, and to those of
    young persons of both sexes. Translated from the French. (3 vols.)
    London, 1788.

BERQUIN, ARNAUD--The Children’s Friend, Being a Selection from the
    Works of. Montrose, 1798.

BERQUIN, ARNAUD--L’Ami des Enfants. Paris, 1792.

       *       *       *       *       *

EDGEWORTH, MARIA--The Parent’s Assistant; or, Stories for Children. (3
    vols.)

EDGEWORTH, MARIA, AND RICHARD LOVELL--Practical Education. (1st
    American ed., 2 vols.) New York, 1801.

EDGEWORTH, RICHARD LOVELL, Memoirs of. Begun by himself and concluded
    by his daughter, Maria Edgeworth. (2 vols.) London, Hunter, 1820.

HARE, AUGUSTUS J. C.--Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth. (2 vols.)
    London, Arnold, 1894.

EDGEWORTH, MARIA--Tales from. With an Introduction by Austin Dobson.
    New York, Stokes, $1.50.

PANCOAST, H. S.--Forgotten Patriot. _Atlantic_, 91: 758 (June, ’03).

RAY, A. C.--Philosopher’s Wooing. _Book-buyer_, 24: 287 (May, ’02).

FYVIE, JOHN--Literary Eccentricities. London, Constable, 1906. [_Vide_
    p. 35: The author of “Sandford and Merton.”]

DAY, THOMAS--Life of. (In the British Poets, Vol. lviii.) [By R. A.
    Davenport, Esq.]

DAY, THOMAS--Sandford and Merton. London, George Routledge & Sons, 3s.
    6d.

       *       *       *       *       *

BARBAULD, ANNA LETITIA--A Legacy for Young Ladies.... By the late Mrs.
    B. London, 1826. [Morality leaps from every page, but the book is
    agreeably written.]

BARBAULD AND AIKIN--Evenings at Home. London, Routledge, 2s. 6d.

MURCH, JEROM--Mrs. Barbauld and Her Contemporaries: Sketches of Some
    Eminent Literary and Scientific English Women. London, Longmans,
    1877. [_Vide_ also Memoir and Letters, ed. Grace A. Ellis; also
    Memoir by Anna Letitia LeBreton.]

BARBAULD, MRS.--Hymns in Prose. London, Routledge, 2s.

RAIKES, ROBERT--The Man and His Work. Biographical Notes Collected
    by Josiah Harris. Unpublished Letters by Robert Raikes. Letters
    from the Raikes family. Opinions on Influence of Sunday Schools.
    (Specially Contributed.) Ed. J. Henry Harris. Introduction by Dean
    Farrar, D.D. Bristol, London. [Illustrated; frontispiece of Raikes.]

RAIKES, ROBERT--Memoir of the Founder of Sunday Schools. [Pamphlet.] G.
    Webster. Nottingham, 1873.

TRIMMER, MRS.--Some Account of the Life and Writings of, with original
    letters, and meditations and prayers, selected from her Journal.
    London, 1825.

TRIMMER, MRS. SARAH--The History of the Robins. (Ed. Edward Everett
    Hale.) Heath, 1903. [In its day, this book was illustrated by many
    well-known artists.]

MORE, HANNAH, Life of. [Famous Women Series.] Charlotte M. Yonge.
    Boston, Roberts, 1890.

MORE, HANNAH, Life of, with Notices of her Sisters. Henry Thompson,
    M.A. (2 vols.) Philadelphia, Carey and Hart, 1838.

MORE, HANNAH, The Works of. (1st Complete American ed.) Harper, 1852.
    [_Vide_ also Memoirs by W. Roberts and Mrs. H. C. Knight; Mrs.
    Elwood’s Memoirs of Literary Ladies; _Monthly Review_, Feb., 1809;
    April, 1813, Feb., 1820. _Vide_ London: Nurimo, for publication of
    many of Miss More’s, Mrs. Sherwood’s and Jane Taylor’s stories.]

       *       *       *       *       *

BLAKE, WILLIAM, The Lyric Poems of. Ed. John Sampson. Oxford, Clarendon
    Press, 1905.

BLAKE, WILLIAM, The Works of. Ed. E. J. Ellis and William Butler Yeats.
    (3 vols.) London, 1893.

LAMB, CHARLES AND MARY--Works. Ed. E. V. Lucas. (Putnam.) Works. Ed.
    Canon Ainger. (Macmillan.)

TAYLOR, ANN AND JANE--The “Original Poems” and Others. Ed. E. V. Lucas.
    New York, Stokes, $1.50.

TAYLOR, JANE AND ANN--Greedy Dick, and Other Stories in Verse. Stokes,
    $0.50.

WATTS, DR. ISAAC--London, Houlston. The same publishing house prints
    volumes by Mrs. Sherwood, Mrs. Cameron, Miss Edgeworth, H.
    Martineau, the Taylors, etc.

WATTS, DR. ISAAC--Divine and Moral Songs. London, Elkin Mathews, 1s.
    6d. net.


FOOTNOTES:

[31] She is the author of a remarkably bold “Manuel du Voyageur” en
Six Langues. Paris, Barrois, 1810. Framed to meet every conceivable
occasion.

[32] Day was honest in his intentions, however mistaken his policy
may have been. Sabrina finally married a Mr. Bicknell, who willingly
allowed her to accept support, meagre as it was, from Day.

[33] Mrs. Godwin [Mary Wollstonecraft] (1759–1797) began, as an
exercise, to translate “The Elements of Morality, for the Use of
Children,” written by the Reverend Christian Gotthilf Salzmann
(1744–1811), who won no small renown for the excellence of his school,
founded upon the principles set down by Rousseau. “The design of this
book,” says the worthy master, “is to give birth to what we call a
good disposition in children.” The chief delight of the 1782 edition,
published in three volumes, are the copperplates which represent in the
most graphic way, by pose, gesture, expression, and caption, all the
ills that juvenile flesh is heir to. No one, after having once viewed
the poor little figure seated on a most forbidding-looking sofa, can
quite resist the pangs of sympathy over his exclamation: “How sad is
life without a friend!” Life is indeed a direful wilderness of trials
and vexations. The prismatic colors of one’s years shrivel up before
such wickedness as is expressed by the picture “I hate you!” And yet
how simple is the remedy for a boy’s bad disposition, according to
the Reverend Mr. Salzmann! “Teach him,” so the philosopher argues
in his preface, “that envy is the vexation which is felt at seeing
the happiness of others: you will have given him a just idea of
it; but shew him its dreadful effects, in the example of Hannah in
chap. 29, vol. II, who was so tormented by this corroding passion,
at her sister’s wedding, that she could neither eat, drink, nor
sleep, and was so far carried away by it as to embitter her innocent
sister’s pleasure; this representation has determined the child’s
disposition--he will hate envy.” Elements of Morality ... Translated
from the German.... 3d ed. (3 vols.) London, 1782.

[34] Charles Lamb has recorded his vivid impressions of this book in
“Witches and Other Night Fears.”

[35] It is interesting to note the longevity of many of the women
writers of this period. Both Miss Edgeworth and Mrs. Barbauld died
in their eighty-second year, while Miss More reached the ripe age of
eighty-eight. Mrs. Trimmer, nearing seventy, was thus comparatively
young at the time of her death. A glimpse of Miss More at seventy-nine
is left in the reminiscences of the original Peter Parley, who visited
her, _circa_ 1823, much as a devout pilgrim would make a special
journey. He wrote: “She was small and wasted away. Her attire was of
dark-red bombazine, made loose like a dressing-gown. Her eyes were
black and penetrating, her face glowing with cheerfulness, through
a lace-work of wrinkles. Her head-dress was a modification of the
coiffure of her earlier days--the hair being slightly frizzled, and
lightly powdered, yet the whole group of moderate dimensions.”

[36] _Vide_ the lay sermon by Samuel McCord Crothers, “The Colonel in
the Theological Seminary.”--_Atlantic_, June, 1907. Also Emerson’s
essay on “Spiritual Laws.”

[37] _Vide_ Miss Strickland’s “Lives of the Seven Bishops.”

[38] For Jane Taylor, _vide_ “Contributions of Q Q;” “Essays in Rhymes
on Morals and Planners.” For Ann Taylor, _vide_ “Hymns for Infant
Schools.”

[39] Frederic Harrison, in his “The Choice of Books,” (Macmillan, 1886)
writes:

“Poor Lamb has not a little to answer for, in the revived relish
for garbage unearthed from old theatrical dung-heaps. Be it just or
earnest, I have little patience with the Elia-tic philosophy of the
frivolous. Why do we still suffer the traditional hypocrisy about the
dignity of literature,--literature I mean, in the gross, which includes
about equal parts of what is useful and what is useless? Why are books
as books, writers as writers, readers as readers, meritorious, apart
from any good in them, or anything that we can get from them?”

[40] The reader is referred to “The Moral Instruction of Children,” by
Felix Adler, New York: Appleton, 1892. Besides considering the use to
be made of fairy tales, fables, and Bible stories, the author discusses
fully the elements in the Odyssey and the Iliad which are valuable
adjuncts in moral training.




                      IV. CONCERNING NOW AND THEN

  _Ce que je vois alors dans ce jardin, c’est un petit bonhomme
  qui, les mains dans les poches et sa gibecière au dos, s’en va au
  collège en sautillant comme un moineau. Ma pensée seule le voit;
  car ce petit bonhomme est une ombre; c’est l’ombre du_ moi _que
  j’étais il y a vingt-cinq ans. Vraiment, il m’intéresse, ce petit:
  quand il existait, je ne me souciais guère de lui; mais, maintenant
  qu’il n’est plus, je l’aime bien. Il valait mieux, en somme, que
  les autres_ moi _que j’ai eus après avoir perdu celui-là. Il était
  bien étourdi; mais il n’était pas méchant et je dois lui; rendre
  cette justice qu’il ne m’a pas laissé un seul mauvais souvenir;
  c’est un innocent que j’ai perdu: il est bien naturel que je le
  regrette; il est bien naturel que je le voie en pensée et que mon
  esprit s’amuse à ranimer son souvenir.... Tout ce qu’il voyait
  alors, je le vois aujourd’hui. C’est le même ciel et la méme terre;
  les choses ont leur âme d’autrefois, leur âme qui m’égaye et
  m’attriste, et me trouble; lui seul n’est plus._--_Anatole France_,
  in “Le Livre de mon Ami.”

  “_I prefer the little girls and boys ... that come as you call
  them, fair or dark, in green ribbons or blue. I like making cowslip
  fields grow and apple-trees bloom at a moment’s notice. That is
  what it is, you see, to have gone through life with an enchanted
  land ever beside you...._”--_Kate Greenaway to Ruskin._


I. THE ENGLISH SIDE.

Whatever change in children’s literature was now to take place was
due entirely to the increasing importance of elementary education. A
long while was to elapse before the author was wholly freed from the
idea that situations could be dealt with, apart from any overbearing
_morale_, and even then he found himself constrained to meet the
problem of giving information--of teaching instead of preaching.

The interest in external nature, the desire to explain phenomena
according to the dictates of belief, infused a new element into
authorship for young people. But those writers brought to meet
this latent stirring of the scientific spirit all the harness of
the old régime. First they thought that they could explain the
evident by parables, but they found that fact was too particular for
generalisations, and the child mind too immature for such symbol. Then
they attempted to define natural objects from a childish plane, making
silly statements take the place of truth. They soon became aware that
their simple style had to deal with a set of details that could not be
sentimentalised.

The truth of the matter is that a new impulse was started; the national
spirit began to move toward a more democratic goal; the rank and file
began to look beyond the narrow hill and dale; women sought wider
spheres; the poor demanded constitutional rights; energy began to stir
from underneath. The word _modern_ was in every one’s mind. The old
order changeth, giving place to new. The child’s intellect must be
furnished with food for its growth; Rousseau’s doctrine of “back to
nature” was found not to have worked; it was realised that special
training must begin early for all the walks of life. Carlyle was
pleading for a _public_ library, education was widening its sphere.

In the preceding pages, we have tried to establish a continuous line of
development in children’s books through several centuries; upon such
a foundation the English story and the American story of to-day are
based. The table of English writers on page 147 contains names of minor
importance, but still forming a part of the past history--foreshadowers
of the new era. For therein you will discover that juvenile literature
first begins to show signs of differing from adult literature only in
its power; that where Macaulay tells the story of England in terms of
maturity, Miss Strickland, Lady Callcott, Miss Tytler, and Miss Yonge
adopt a descending scale. Where children were wont to act in accord
with the catechism, they are now made to feel an interest in their
surroundings. Mrs. Marcet writes for them “talks” on chemistry and
political economy, Mrs. Wakefield on botany and insects. The extension
of schools meant that literature must be supplied those schools;
writers were encouraged in the same way that Miss More was prompted
to produce her “Repository Tracts.” Grammars and histories began to
flood the market, and in the wake of Scott’s novels, taking into
consideration the fact that books were being written for the purpose of
information, the child’s historical story was a natural consequence.
Thus we discover the connection between “Waverley” and Henty. The
death-blow to fairy tales in England, brought about by the didactic
writers, resulted in a deplorable lack of imaginative literature for
children, until a German influence, around 1840–1850, began to take
effect, and the Grimms’ Household Tales afforded a new impulse.[41]
Mrs. Gatty, author of the famous “Parables of Nature,” deigned to
rejoice over the classic nonsense of Lewis Carroll. The line of descent
can be drawn from Perrault to Grimm, from Grimm to Andrew Lang’s
rainbow series of folk-lore.

The table is intended to do no more than indicate the gradual manner
in which this break took effect. The student who would treat the
evolution fully will find it necessary to place side by side with his
discussion of individual books for young people, a full explanation of
those social changes in English history which are the chief causes of
the changes in English literature. Children’s books are subject to just
those modifications which take place in the beliefs, the knowledge,
and the aspirations of the adult person. The difference between the
two is one of intensity and not of kind. The student will discover,
after a study of the development of the common school, how and why the
educational impulse dominated over all elements of pure imagination;
how the retelling craze, given a large literary sanction by such a
writer as Lamb, and so excellently upheld by Charles Kingsley, lost
caste when brought within compass of the text-book. He will finally see
how this educational pest has overrun America to a far greater extent
than England, to the detriment of much that is worthy and of much which
should by rights be made to constitute a children’s reading heritage.


                             ENGLISH TABLE

MRS. PRISCILLA WAKEFIELD. 1751–1832. Member of Society of Friends;
    philanthropic work among the poor. Author: Juvenile Anecdotes;
    Juvenile Travellers; Conversations; Introduction to Botany;
    Introduction to Insects; Present Condition of Female Sex, with
    Suggestions for Its Improvement; Life of William Penn. Reference:
    D. N. B.[42]

FRANCES BURNEY (MADAME D’ARBLAY). 1752–1840. Reference: D. N. B.

WILLIAM FORDYCE MAVOR. 1758–1837. Ed. 1799, juvenile periodical for
    Walker, Newbery. Reference: D. N. B.

JOANNA BAILLIE. 1762–1851. Work among the poor made her known as Lady
    Bountiful. Reference: D. N. B.

JEREMIAH JOYCE. 1763–1816. Author: Lectures on the Microscope.

MRS. JANE MARCET. 1769–1858. Macaulay wrote: “Every girl who has
    read Mrs. Marcet’s little dialogues on political economy could
    teach Montague or Walpole many fine lessons in finance.” Author:
    Scientific text-books; Conversations on Chemistry intended for the
    Female Sex; Conversations on Political Economy, imitated by Harriet
    Martineau in her Illustrations of Political Economy. Reference: D.
    N. B.

MRS. BARBARA HOFLAND. 1770–1844. Imitated the Edgeworth style. Author:
    Emily; The Son of a Genius; Tales of a Manor; Young Crusoe.
    Reference: D. N. B.

MRS. MARY MARTHA SHERWOOD. 1775–1851. Stories and tracts evangelical
    in tone. With her sister, Mrs. Cameron, invented a type of story
    for rich and for poor. Author: The Fairchild Family (intended for
    the middle classes); Little Henry and His Bearer. Reference: _New
    Review_ (May 18, 1843); Life of Mrs. Sherwood by her daughter; D.
    N. B. An edition of The Fairchild Family, New York, Stokes, $1.50.

JANE PORTER. 1776–1850. Reference: D. N. B.

MARIA HACK. 1778–1844. Quaker parentage. A believer in the “walk”
    species of literature. Author: Winter Evenings, or Tales of
    Travellers; First Lessons in English Grammar; Harry Beaufoy, or the
    Pupil of Nature. Reference: D. N. B.

MRS. ELIZABETH PENROSE. 1780–1837. Pseud. Mrs. Markham. Daughter of
    a rector. One critic wrote: “Mrs. Penrose adapted her history to
    what she considered the needs of the young, and omitted scenes of
    cruelty and fraud, as hurtful to children, and party politics after
    the Revolution as too complicated for them to learn.” Author: Began
    school histories in 1823; these were brought up to date afterward
    by Mary Howitt. Moral Tales and Sermons for Children. Reference: D.
    N. B.

JOHN WILSON CROKER. 1780–1857. One of the founders of the _Quarterly
    Review_; reviewed abusively Keats’s Endymion. Author: Stories from
    the History of England, 1817, which supplied Scott with the idea
    for his Tales of a Grandfather; Irish Tales. Reference: Jenning’s
    Diaries and Correspondence of Croker (London, 1884); Internat.
    Encyclo.

LADY MARIA CALLCOTT. 1785–1842. Author: Little Arthur’s History of
    England. Reference: D. N. B.

MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. 1787–1855. Careful detail of description, akin
    to Dutch style of painting. Author: Tragedies; Village Stories;
    Juvenile Spectator. She was among the first women to adopt writing
    as a profession. Miss Yonge speaks of her “writing so deliciously
    of children,” but she “could not write for them.” Reference: D. N.
    B.; Recollections; Letters.

AGNES STRICKLAND. 1796–1874. “With the exception of Jane Porter, whom
    she visited at Bristol, and with whom she carried on a frequent
    correspondence, and a casual meeting with Macaulay, whom she found
    congenial, she came little in contact with the authors of the day.”
    Author: Lives of the Queens of England; Two Rival Crusoes. [Note
    the hybrid type of story that sprung up around the real Robinson
    Crusoe.] Edited Fisher’s Juvenile Scrap Book, 1837–1839. Reference:
    D. N. B.

MRS. MAY SEWELL. 1797–1884. Left Society of Friends for the Church
    of England. Wrote homely ballads. _Vide_ daughter, Anna Sewell.
    Author: Her ballad, Mother’s Last Words, circulated about 1,088,000
    copies when it first appeared. Reference: Mod. Biog.

MARY HOWITT. 1799–1888. Authorship linked with that of her husband. In
    1837 began writing children’s stories and poems. Her daughter, Anna
    Mary, also was a writer of children’s books. Author: Translator of
    Fredrika Bremer’s novels; editor, Fisher’s Drawingroom Scrap Book.
    Reference: Reminiscences of My Later Life (_Good Words_, 1886); D.
    N. B.

CATHERINE SINCLAIR. 1800–1864. Fourth daughter of Sir John Sinclair.
    Her work considered the beginning of the modern spirit. A friend
    of Scott. Author: Holiday House; Modern Accomplishment; Modern
    Society; Modern Flirtations. Reference: A Brief Tribute to C. S.
    (Pamphlet); D. N. B.

G. P. R. JAMES. 1801–1860. Influenced by Scott and encouraged by
    Irving. Thackeray parodied him in Barbazure, by G. P. R. Jeames,
    Esq., in Novels by Eminent Hands; also in Book of Snobs (chaps. ii
    and xvi). Author of a long list of novels.

HARRIET MARTINEAU. 1802–1876. Reference: D. N. B.

MRS. MARGARET SCOTT GATTY. 1809–1873. She was forty-two before she
    began to publish. _Vide_ Ewing. Author: Aunt Judy Tales; Parables
    of Nature; 1866--_Aunt Judy Magazine_ (monthly), continued after
    her death, with her daughter as editor; stopped in 1885. Reference:
    Life in ed. Parables (Everyman’s Library); _Illustrated London
    News_, Oct. 18, 1873; _Athenæum_, Oct. 11, 1873, p. 464; D. N. B.

ANNA SEWELL. 1820–1878. Author: Black Beauty (1877). Reference: D. N. B.

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 1823-. Author: Heir of Redclyffe; The Kings of
    England; The Chaplet of Pearls.

MRS. MARY LOUISA WHATELEY. 1824–1889. Went to Cairo and lived from
    1861–1889, where she had a Moslem school. Wrote chiefly about
    Egypt. Fairy tale influence. Author: Reverses; or, the Fairfax
    Family. Reference: Hays’ Women of To-day; London _Times_ (March 12,
    1889).

MRS. DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK. 1826–1887. Pseudo-fairy tale writer.
    Author: Adventures of a Brownie, etc.

JULIANA HORATIO EWING. 1841–1885. Reference: J. H. Ewing and Her Books,
    by Horatia K. T. Gatty; D. N. B.

ANN FRASER TYTLER. Daughter of Alexander Fraser Tytler, Lord
    Woodhouselel. Author: Leila on the Island; Leila in England; Leila
    at Home.


II. THE AMERICAN SIDE.

As for the American phase of the subject, we have already indicated
three stages by which the Colonial or Revolutionary reader was given
his “New England Primer,” his “Mother Goose,” and his Thomas books
obtained directly from Newbery of England. The whole intellectual
activity was in the hands of the clergy; even the governing body
pretended to be God-fearing men, and were prone to listen to the
dictates of the ministry. The austere demands of the Puritan Sunday,
more than anything else, caused the writing of religious books, and so
firm a hold did the Sabbath _genre_ of literature take, that, in 1870,
it was still in full sway, and even now exists to a limited extent.
The history of education in America for a long while has to do with
denominational schools, and teaching was largely left in the hands
of the clergy. So that we shall find our early writer of “juveniles”
either a man of the church, or his wife; prompted solely by the desire
to supply that character of story which would fitly harmonise with the
sanctity of Sunday, rather than with the true excellence of all days.
If, in the school, a book was needed, it was far better to write one
than to trust to others for what might turn out to be heretical.[43]
The Rev. Jedidiah Morse began his literary career in the capacity of
teacher; Noah Webster’s idea was at first to prepare a treatise on
grammar which could be used in the schools. These two were the most
scientific thinkers of their period. The list on page 158, indicating
but a few of the forgotten and only faintly remembered authors of early
days, fairly well represents the general trend; in the writing done,
there were the same morals, the similar luckless children, subject to
the same thin sentiment of piety and rectitude as we discovered holding
sway in England for nearly two centuries. The name of Peter Parley is
no longer familiar to children, and a crusade is fast being formed
against the Jacob Abbott class of book. The type of writer was the kind
that debated for or against slavery in terms of the Bible. The Puritan
soil was rich for the rapid growth of the Hannah More seed, and no
one assisted in sowing it to greater extent than Samuel G. Goodrich
(1793–1860). He may symbolise for us the reading child in New England
at the beginning of the nineteenth century; his training, his daily
pursuits, as told in his autobiography, supply pages of invaluable
social colour.[44]

“It is difficult,” so he says, “... in this era of literary affluence,
almost amounting to surfeit, to conceive of the poverty of books suited
to children in the days of which I write. Except the New England
Primer--the main contents of which were the Westminster Catechism--and
some rhymes, embellished with hideous cuts of Adam’s Fall, in which ‘we
sinned all’; the apostle and a cock crowing at his side, to show that
‘Peter denies his Lord and cries’; Nebuchadnezzar crawling about like
a hog, the bristles sticking out of his back, and the like--I remember
none that were in general use among my companions. When I was about
ten years old, my father brought from Hartford ‘Gaffer Ginger,’ ‘Goody
Two Shoes,’ and some of the rhymes and jingles now collected under the
name of ‘Mother Goose,’ with perhaps a few other toy books of that day.
These were a revelation. Of course I read them, but I must add, with no
relish.”

The confession follows that when he was given “Red Riding Hood,” he was
filled with contempt; and in this spirit he condemns such nonsense as
“hie diddle diddle,” which is not fit for Christian parents to use. He
found some considerable pleasure in “Robinson Crusoe,” but it was not
until he met with Miss Hannah More’s tracts that he might be said to
have enjoyed with relish any book at all.

Thus his reading tastes foreshadowed his literary activity. When he
turned writer, he aimed for the style which distinguishes Mary Howitt,
Mrs. Hofland, and Miss Strickland; he disclaimed any interest in the
nursery book that was unreasonable and untruthful, for so he considered
most of the stories of fancy. In his books, his desire was chiefly “to
feed the young mind upon things wholesome and pure, instead of things
monstrous, false, and pestilent.... In short, that the element of
nursery books should consist of beauty instead of deformity, goodness
instead of wickedness, decency instead of vulgarity.” In this manner,
the mould of the Peter Parley tales was shaped. Goodrich at first
adopted no philosophy of construction, so he says; he aimed to tell
his story as he would have spoken it to a group of boys. But after a
while, a strong sense of the child’s gradual growth took hold of him;
he recognised psychological stages, and he saw that, as in teaching,
his books must consider that children’s “first ideas are simple and
single, and formed of images of things palpable to the senses.”

While on a visit to England in 1823--the memorable time he met Miss
More--he turned his attention to what was being accomplished there in
popular education for children. After investigation, he thus wrote:

“Did not children love truth? If so, was it necessary to feed them
on fiction? Could not history, natural history, geography, biography
become the elements of juvenile works, in place of fairies and giants,
and mere monsters of the imagination? These were the inquiries that
from this time filled my mind.”

Under such conditions Peter Parley was born, and reborn, and overborn;
battles were waged for and against him, just as they have only recently
been waged for and against the Elsie books. But no sooner was Peter
Parley identified with a definite person than Mr. Goodrich’s trials
began. He became a victim of the imperfect copyright system; he found
his tales being pirated in England. And as fast as he would settle
one difficulty, another would arise; spurious Parleys came to light,
conflicting with his sales. It was the case of Goodrich _alias_
Kettell, _alias_ Mogridge, _alias_ Martin, and many more beside. In
fact, a writer, considering the life of William Martin (1801–1867),
quotes a statement to the effect that “Messrs. Darton, Martin’s
publishers, in especial used to prefix the name [Peter Parley] to
all sorts of children’s books, without reference to their actual
authorship.”

Isaiah Thomas may be taken as representative of our Revolutionary
period, even as the “New England Primer” may typify the chief literary
product of our Colonial life. Peter Parley marks for us the war of
1812. It was after this that our country began to expand, that the
South and the Southwest unfolded their possibilities, that the East
began the Westward move that led to the craze of ’49. The Indian,
the scout, the cowboy, the Yankee trader have been the original
contributions of America to juvenile literature. A close study will
indicate that Cooper was the creator of this _genre_ of story,--more
painstaking, more effulgent, more detailed than the Indian story-writer
of to-day, but none the less a permanent model. So, too, he will be
found, in his accounts of the navy, in his records of common seamen,
in his lives of naval officers, to be no mean, no inaccurate, no dry
historian; in fact, Cooper, as one of our first naval critics, has yet
to be accorded his proper estimate.

American history, American development being of a melodramatic
character, it is natural that the opposite to Sunday-school literature
should rapidly take root as soon as begun. A period of the ten-cent
novel flourished about 1860, when the Beadle Brothers, who were finally
to be merged into the publishing house of George Munro, began the
publication of their series of cheap volumes--the sensationalism of
Cooper raised to the _n_th power. To-day there are men who glow with
remembered enthusiasm over Colonel Prentiss Ingraham and the detective
stories of A. W. Aiken--whose record was often one a week--as they do
over the name of Hemyng _alias_ Jack Harkaway, or Mayne Reid, with his
traditional profanity. Edward S. Ellis (b. 1840) was one of the young
members of this group of writers. He became inoculated, but was forced,
when the milder process came into vogue, to soften his high lights, and
to accord with the times. What such early “wild cat” literature did,
however, for present upholders of the “series” books, was to exemplify
that, by a given pattern, a tale could be made to “go” to order. There
was then, as there is now, a certain type of book, neither moral nor
immoral, and not at all educational, but only momentarily diverting;
written without motive, without definite object, but whose ground plan
and mechanism were workable.

The increase of the public-school system was the chief opponent of the
Sunday-school book, as it likewise, by its educational emphasis, fought
against the dime-novel vogue. And with the inception of the public
school on its present large scale we reach the immediate stage, the era
of over-productivity, with its enormous average taste, with its public
regard for readers in the libraries, for scholars in the class-rooms,
for the poor in settlements, and for the emigrant on the high seas.

After an experience of five years in reviewing juvenile books of the
past and in estimating the varied stories of the present, I do not
think it sweeping to assert that while education has snatched the
child’s book from the moralist and taken away from writing a false
standard of right doing, it has not, as yet, added any worthy attribute
of itself. It has not taught the child to judge good literature from
the bad; it has supplied, in a prescribed course, certain isolated
books or stereotyped poems, with which the child is wearied in the
class-room, and from which, once outside, the child turns with natural
dread. I am judging solely from the standpoint of juvenile taste.
And so, with the entrance of a new consideration--the children’s
reading-rooms--it may well be queried at the outset: What will this
institution add to the creative force? How far will it seek to improve
conditions? Will there be an increased demand for the good and for
the best books? Will there be a more careful art manifested in the
writing of stories? Will the gaps in the field be filled up? For an
examination of the past and of the present tells me that children’s
literature, generally speaking, has yet to be conquered.

With these remarks in view, the table that follows may, on examination,
bear some significance.


                            AMERICAN TABLE

NOAH WEBSTER. Ct. 1758–1843. Cf. Mavor in England. Author: New England
    Spelling Book; American Dictionary. Reference: Memoir by Goodrich
    (in Dictionary); Life by H. E. Scudder; Appleton.[45]

JEDIDIAH MORSE. Ct. 1761–1826. Congregational minister; wrote first
    school text-books of any importance in America. His son was S.
    F. B. Morse. Author: Geography Made Easy, etc. He is called the
    “Father of American Geography.” Reference: Life by Sprague;
    Appleton.

THOMAS HOPKINS GALLAUDET. Ct. 1787–1851. Minister. Educator of deaf
    mutes; in this work assisted by wife, Sophia Fowler (1798–1877),
    and two sons. Author: The Child’s Book of the Soul; The Youth’s
    Book of Natural Theology; Bible Stories for the Young. Reference:
    Life by Humphrey; Tribute to T. H. G. by Henry Barnard (Hartford,
    Conn., 1852); Appleton.

ELIZA LESLIE. Pa. 1787–1857. Wrote cook books, girls’ books, and
    juvenile tales for _The Pearl and The Violet_, which she edited
    annually. She also edited _The Gift_. One of her brothers, a
    well-known artist. Author: The Young Americans; Stories for
    Adelaide; Stories for Helen; The Behaviour Book. The Wonderful
    Traveller consisted of altered versions of tales from Münchausen,
    Gulliver, etc. Reference: Appleton.

MRS. SARAH JOSEPHA (BUELL) HALE. N. H. 1788–1879. It was through her
    efforts that Thanksgiving became an American national observance.
    Her son, Horatio, was an author. Author: The famous “Mary had a
    little lamb.” Edited _Lady’s Book_ for forty years from 1837.
    Reference: Appleton.

CATHERINE MARIA SEDGWICK. Mass. 1789–1867. Author: The Boy of Mount
    Rhigi, a tale of inspired goodness; Beatitudes and Pleasant
    Sundays; The Poor Rich Man and the Rich Poor Man; A Love Token for
    Children; Morality of Manners; Lessons without Books. Reference:
    Hart’s Female Prose Writers of America; Life and Letters, ed. Mary
    E. Dewey; Appleton.

MRS. SUSAN (RIDLEY) SEDGWICK. Mass. 1789–1867. Author: Walter Thornley;
    Morals of Pleasure; The Young Emigrants. Reference: Appleton.

MRS. LYDIA HOWARD (HUNTLEY) SIGOURNEY. Ct. 1791–1865. Author: Letters
    to Young Ladies; Poetry for Children; Tales and Essays for
    Children. Reference: Griswold’s Female Poets; Hart’s Female Prose
    Writers; Life and Letters; Parton’s Eminent Women; Appleton.

MRS. CAROLINE (HOWARD) GILMAN. Mass. 1794–1888. Took great pride in her
    children’s books. Began writing in _Southern Rosebud_ (Charleston),
    afterward called _Southern Rose_ (1832–1839). This magazine has
    been credited as the first juvenile weekly in the United States.
    Her daughter, Caroline H. (b. S. C. 1823), also wrote for the
    young. Author: Oracles for Youth; Mrs. Gilman’s Gift Book.
    Reference: Autobiographical sketch in Hart’s Female Prose Writers;
    Recollections; Appleton.

MRS. LOUISA C. (HUGGINS) TUTHILL. Ct. 1798–1897. Wrote moral tales;
    with others prepared Juvenile Library for Boys and Girls; her
    daughter, Cornelia (T.) Pierson (1820–1870), wrote Our Little
    Comfort; When Are We Happiest? Author: I will be a Gentleman; I
    will be a Lady; I will be a Sailor; Onward, Right Onward. Edited
    the Young Ladies Reader (New Haven, 1840). Reference: Hart;
    Appleton.

JOHN TODD. Vt. 1800–1873. Invented Index Rerum. Author: Religious
    works, mainly for young people; also educational works. Reference:
    Life; _Harper’s Magazine_, Feb., 1876.

LYDIA MARIA CHILD. Mass. 1802–1880. Foremost in the ranks of
    anti-slavery; influenced by Garrison. In 1826, founded the
    _Juvenile Miscellany_, forerunner of Harper’s _Young People_.
    Author: Flowers for Children (graded). Reference: Hart; Nat. Cyclo.
    Am. Biog.

MARIA J. MCINTOSH. Ga. 1803–1878. Quiet and domestic tone to her books.
    Author: Series known as the Aunt Kitty Tales, the first one being
    Blind Alice, published in 1841. Reference: Hart.

DR. HARVEY NEWCOMB. Mass. 1803–1866. Congregational clergyman. Wrote
    moral and religious books for young. Author: How to be a Man; How
    to be a Lady; Young Ladies’ Guide. Reference: Appleton.

REV. JACOB ABBOTT. Me. 1803–1879. Divinity school; Professor at
    Amherst; Congregationalist. Travelled extensively. Author: Rollo
    books (28 vols.); Lucy books (6 vols.); Jonas books (6 vols.);
    Franconia books (10 vols.); histories with brother (_vide_ p. 160).
    Reference: A Neglected N. E. Author (_N. E. Mag._, n. s. 30:471);
    Writings (_Lit. and Theol. R._, 3:83); (_Chr. Exam._, 18:133;
    21:306); Appleton.

REV. ABIJAH RICHARDSON BAKER. Mass. 1805–1876. Congregationalist.
    Graduate of Amherst; a teacher. With his wife, Mrs. H. N. W.
    Baker, edited _The Mother’s Assistant_ and _The Happy Home_.
    Author: School History of the U. S.; Westminster Shorter
    Catechism--Graduated Question Book. Reference: Appleton.

J. S. C. ABBOTT. Me. 1805–1877. Brother of Jacob Abbott.
    Congregational minister. Author: The Mother at Home; histories with
    brother. Reference: _Cong. Q._, 20:1; Appleton.

SARAH TOWNE (SMITH) MARTYN. 1805–1879. Wife of a minister. Wrote
    Sunday-school books and semi-historical stories. Published through
    American Tract Society. Established _Ladies’ Wreath_, and edited
    it, 1846–1851. Author: Huguenots of France; Lady Alice Lisle.
    Reference: Appleton.

MRS. ELIZABETH OAKES (PRINCE) SMITH. Me. 1806–1893. One of the first
    women lecturers in America. Moved later to South Carolina. By her
    book, The Newsboy, public attention was drawn to that class of
    child. Supervised, _circa_ 1840, annual issuance of the _Mayflower_
    (Boston). Author: The Sinless Child; Stories for Children; Hints on
    Dress and Beauty. Reference: Hart; Nat. Cyclo. Am. Biog.

MARY STANLEY BUNCE (PALMER) (DANA) SHINDLER. S. C. 1810–1883. Wife
    of a clergyman, Episcopal. Author: Charles Morton; or, The Young
    Patriot; The Young Sailor. Reference: Appleton.

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. Ct. 1811–1896. Author: Dred; Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
    Reference: Life work of,--McCray; E. F. Parker in Parton’s Eminent
    Women; Life compiled from letters and journals by C. E. Stowe; Life
    and Letters, ed. Annie Fields.

ELIJAH KELLOGG. Me. 1813-. Congregational minister. Famed for “The
    Address of Spartacus to the Gladiators.” Author: Elm Island series;
    Forest Glen series; Good Old Times series; Pleasant Cove series.
    Reference: Bibliog. Me.; Appleton.

MARY ELIZABETH LEE. S. C. 1813–1849. Not a distinctive juvenile writer,
    but contributed many juvenile tales to _The Rosebud_. (_Vide_
    Gilman.) Reference: Hart.

REV. ZACHARIAH ATWELL MUDGE. Mass. 1813–1888. Methodist-Episcopal
    minister; teacher. Fiction for Sunday-schools. Author: Arctic
    Heroes; Fur Clad Adventurers. Reference: Appleton.

MRS. HARRIET V. CHENEY. Mass. _Circa_ 1815. Daughter of Hannah Foster,
    an early American novelist. Her sister, Mrs. Cushing, wrote Esther,
    a dramatic poem, and “works” for the young. Author: A Peep at the
    Pilgrims; The Sunday-school; or, Village Sketches. Reference:
    Appleton.

MRS. HARRIETTE NEWELL (WOODS) BAKER. Mass. 1815–1893. Pseud. Madeline
    Leslie. Wife of Rev. A. R. B. Author: About two hundred moral
    tales, among them Tim, the Scissors Grinder. Reference: Appleton.

LYDIA ANN EMERSON (PORTER). Mass. 1816-. Second cousin of Ralph Waldo
    Emerson. Contributed mostly to the Sunday-school type of book.
    Author: Uncle Jerry’s Letters to Young Mothers; The Lost Will.
    Reference: Appleton.

CATHERINE MARIA TROWBRIDGE. Ct. 1818-. Author: Christian Heroism;
    Victory at Last; Will and Will Not; Snares and Safeguards.

SUSAN WARNER. N. Y. 1818–1885. Pseud. Elizabeth Wetherell. Books noted
    for strained religious sentimentality. With her, the school of
    Hannah More came to an end. Author: The Wide, Wide World (1851);
    Queechy (1852); Say and Seal (in collaboration with her sister).
    Reference: Appleton.

REV. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THAYER. Mass. 1820–1898. Congregational
    minister; member of legislature. Author: Youth’s History of the
    Rebellion; The Bobbin Boy; The Pioneer Boy; The Printer Boy; Men
    Who Win; Women Who Win. Edited _The Home Monthly_ and _The Mother’s
    Assistant_. Reference: Appleton.

WILLIAM TAYLOR ADAMS. Mass. 1822–1897. Pseud. Oliver Optic. In early
    life ed. _Student and School-Mate_. In 1881, ed. _Our Little Ones_.
    Then ed. _Oliver Optic’s Magazine_. Author: About one hundred
    volumes; first one published 1853, Hatchie, the Guardian Slave.
    Reference: Appleton.

CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN. N. H. 1823–1896. Self-educated. Varied career
    as a war correspondent during the Civil War. Author: The Boys of
    ’76. Reference: Life by Griffis; Appleton.

WILLIAM HENRY THOMAS. 1824–1895. Belonged to the school of dime
    novelists. Boys in the 60’s eagerly devoured the Beadle and (later)
    Munro books. Author: The Belle of Australia; Ocean Rover; A
    Whaleman’s Adventure. Reference: Appleton.

MRS. ALICE (BRADLEY) (NEAL) HAVEN. N. Y. 1828–1863. Pseud. Alice G.
    Lee. Wrote for Sunday-schools. Author: No such Word as Fail;
    Contentment Better Than Wealth. Reference: Memoir in _Harper’s
    Magazine_, Oct., 1863; Appleton.

JANE ANDREWS. Mass. 1833–1887. Author: Seven Little Sisters who live on
    the Round Ball that Floats in the Air; The Stories Mother Nature
    Told.

CHARLES A. FOSDICK. N. Y. 1842-. Pseud. Harry Castlemon. Went through
    the Civil War. Author: Gunboat series; Rocky Mountains series;
    Roughing It series; Frank series; Archie series.

MRS. ANNIE M. MITCHELL. Mass. 1847-. Religious books for children.
    Author: Martha’s Gift; Freed Boy in Alabama.

MRS. MARY L. CLARK. Fairford, Me. 1831-. Religious juveniles. Author:
    The Mayflower series; Daisy’s Mission.

MRS. CAROLINE E. DAVIS. Northwood, N. H. 1831-. Sunday-school tales,
    about fifty or more. Author: No Cross, No Crown; Little Conqueror
    Series; Miss Wealthy’s Hope; That Boy; Child’s Bible Stories.
    Reference: Appleton.

SARA H. BROWNE. Author: Book for the Eldest Daughter (1849).

MARIA J. BROWNE. Author: The Youth’s Sketch Book (1850). Reference for
    both: Hart (Bibl.).


III. THE PRESENT SITUATION.

The essential difference between the past and the present is not so
much a difference, after all; in both instances the same mistaken
emphasis is placed upon two separate phases of the child’s make-up.
The moral tale took no cognisance of those spiritual laws which are
above teaching, which act of themselves; it did not recognise the
existence of the child’s personality. But when the impetus toward the
study, scientific and intensive, of adolescence was begun, the teacher
lost sight of the free will by which that growth advanced; anxious to
prove the child’s development to be but a series of stages marked by
educational gradings, he reserved no place for the self-development
through which the personality finds expression. In both cases an
unconscious injustice was done juvenile nature. The moral questioning
warped the spirit, the educational questioning chokes the imagination
and fancy, starving the spirit altogether. How many will agree with
Emerson’s assertion that “what we do not call education is more
precious than that which we call so”? The pessimist who challenges
children’s books for children has reasons to doubt, after all.

Time changes not, ’tis we who change in time. Emerson speaks in terms
of evolution; by this very change from generation to generation, the
vitality of a book is tested. Again, in terms of our mentality, Emerson
says that when a thought of Plato becomes a thought to us, Time is
no more. Truth is thus an annihilator of the fleeting moment. The
survival of the fittest means the falling away of the mediocre. The
Sunday-school book was no permanent type; its content was no classic
expression. It filled a timely demand--that was its excuse for being.
Once this demand became modified, the book’s service was at an end;
hence Mr. Welsh’s indication of the decline of the Sunday-school
story through secularisation,--from sectarianism to broad religious
principles, thence to “example rather than direct teaching.”[46]

We still have the religious tract and the church story-paper; yet the
books of advice deal with the social and ethical spirit, rather than
with the denominational stricture. “The less a man thinks or knows
about his virtues, the better we like him,” wrote Emerson, while
Stevenson, in his “Lay Sermons,” placed the stress thus: “It is the
business of life to make excuses for others but not for ourselves.”

To-morrow new topics may be introduced into our juvenile literature,
but change takes longer than a day to become apparent. The student who
attempts to reach any scientific estimate of the present trend will
be disappointed; the mass is too conglomerate, and there are too many
authors writing children’s books for money rather than for children.
I have followed the course as carefully as I could, noting the slight
alterations in concepts to accord with the varying conditions. But
there is no principle that can be deduced, other than the educational
one. The changes are confined to points of external interest, not
of spiritual or mental significance. For instance, there was a time
when girls’ literature and boys’ literature were more clearly
differentiated, one from the other; their near approach has been due to
a common interest in outdoor exercises. Again, things practical, things
literal have crowded out the benignant figure of Santa Claus; and in
the stead, the comic supplement of the Sunday newspaper furnishes
pictures that well-nigh stifle the true domain once occupied by “Mother
Goose.”

What would a parent do, asked suddenly to deal with a promiscuous
collection of juvenile books? Would she unerringly reach forth for
the volume most likely to please her son’s or her daughter’s taste?
If she were to claim little difference between the one college story
she had read, and the several hundred she had not read, she would
not be far from wrong. But we cannot tell how deep an impression the
present activity among writers for children will have on the future.
Our temptation is to make the general statement that the energy is a
surface one, that no great writing is being done for children because
it has become an accessory rather than an end in itself. Education
saved us from the moral pose; it must not deny us the realm of
imagination and fancy.


FOOTNOTES:

[41] In education, the influence of Froebel, in direct descent from
Rousseau, is to be considered.

[42] D. N. B.--Dictionary of National Biography.

[43] The student who desires to investigate the history of American
school-books will find much valuable material in the Watkinson Library
of Hartford, Conn., to which institution Dr. Henry Barnard’s entire
collection of school-books was left. _Vide_ Bibliotheca Americana,
Catalogue of American Publications, including reprints and original
works, from 1820 to 1852, inclusive, together with a list of
periodicals published in the United States, compiled and arranged by
Orville A. Roorbach, N. Y., Oct., 1852. Includes Supplement to 1849
ed., published in 1850.

_Vide_ also Early English School-books. Educational Library, South
Kensington Museum.

[44] _Vide_ Recollections of a Life-time; or, Men and Things I have
Seen: in a series of familiar Letters to a Friend. Historical,
Biographical, Anecdotal, and Descriptive. S. G. Goodrich. (2 vols.)
New York, 1857. [Contains a valuable list of the real Parley books;
also the names of the spurious Parleys. The volumes describe many
small characteristics of American life during the early years of the
nineteenth century.]

[45] Cyclopædia.

[46] Mr. Welsh states that between 1706–1718, 550 books were published
in America, of which 84 were _not_ religious, and of these 84, 49 were
almanacs!




                      V. THE LIBRARY AND THE BOOK


                 _THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS_

              _At evening when the lamp is lit,
              Around the fire my parents sit;
              They sit at home and talk and sing,
              And do not play at anything._

              _Now, with my little gun, I crawl
              All in the dark along the wall,
              And follow round the forest track
              Away behind the sofa back._

              _There, in the night, where none can spy,
              All in my hunter’s camp I lie,
              And play at books that I have read
              Till it is time to go to bed._

              _These are the hills, these are the woods,
              These are my starry solitudes;
              And there the river by whose brink
              The roaring lions come to drink._

              _I see the others far away
              As if in firelit camp they lay,
              And I, like to an Indian scout,
              Around their party prowled about._

              _So, when my nurse comes in for me,
              Home I return across the sea,
              And go to bed with backward looks
              At my dear land of Story-books._
                      --_Robert Louis Stevenson, in_
                            “A Child’s Garden of Verses.”


I. CHILDREN’S BOOKS: THEIR CLASSIFICATION; THEIR CHARACTERISTICS.

There is nothing more variegated in its colour than a large assemblage
of children’s books; the cover-designers revel in their rainbow
conceits, sprinkling gold across the cloth as generously as fairies
scatter star-dust; the artists fill their brushes with delicate
tints of red and blue and orange, and sketch the progress of a
story in spiral traceries of imagination. The mechanical perfection
of book-making is genuinely pleasing; the form, like that of the
glass-blown vase with its slender outlines, is fitted for the worthiest
content. The excellence of binding, the distinctness of type, the
spirit of the drawing--these points strike our senses, these are the
subterfuges of the publishing trade, these the artistic features that
hide the shallowness beneath. You may arrange your blue books together,
and your red, your brown, your white or green in rows; you may mix
them all up again, and marshal them in regiments of equal sizes;
the persistent query stares you in the face,--the stinging fact of
ignorance--what of the story you are about to buy?

In the public library, the shelves are empty; you are told, as the
librarian, to fill them. Not for yourself alone is the choice to be
made, or even for your own children, whom you are supposed to know;
but for every one who wishes to read. You have little right to assume
much homogeneity of taste or desire among young folks; you must balance
your dreams with facts, your ideals with human accomplishment. We are
all as grains of sand in the general scheme of the universe; we are all
supposed to have equal chances before the law; but what we are is the
measure of what we read. You are the custodian of a public trust, not
of your private book-case. A row of children--the poor by the side of
the rich, the newsboy by the side of the patrician--you are to supply
them every one. Have you then the privilege of assuming an autocratic
policy of exclusion? Can you say to yourself, The newsboy must read
Homer!--and refrain from buying him his penny-dreadful?

Each man’s standard of excellence differs from his neighbour’s. Matthew
Arnold’s idea of the best ignored your opinion and mine. The world has
put a face value on certain books; they live because the universal in
them and the universal in us is constant and persistent. And though we
each stand upon a different pivot of existence, though the wind blows
with less fury around you than around me, on calm nights we may each
see the same star, however different the angle of vision.

So, are you not here furnished a starting-point in your purchases?
Where you are concerned with children, your opportunity is richer by
far than you first imagined. They have no preconceived notions; they
stand in a general mystery of dawning experience; they know not how or
why; all truth is a fable before them. Common things are apparelled in
celestial light; nature is governed by omnipotence; creation is the
first meeting with Aladdin’s lamp. The common law of growth tells us
this; our knowledge of men is carved from such general mystery; our
method of gaining this experience is higher than we wot of; the father
is judged in terms of King Arthur before he is reckoned with as a man.

Therefore, it is your bounden duty to satisfy these several stages. You
must have pictures for the little ones that will cater to a familiarity
with common things, and will satisfy a tendency in them to make all
nature animate.[47] You must find an artist capable of seeing the
significance, the humour of the dish running after the spoon. There
must be picture-books that will treat of these things with all the
purity they deserve; high-mindedness is an essential part of elemental
fun. The nursery claims a part in your plan. Place, then, first upon
your list, the best picture-books and jingles. Let true art supplant
the comic supplement sheet.

We will banish the use of baffling terms in speaking of the classes
of juvenile books. Our Fiction will become Stories; our Myths and
Folk-lore and Fables simply Fairy Tales and Legends. Our arrangement
now assumes a definite perspective, from the limitless past to
ourselves as the fixed point. Our standard is one of interest; we
will apply the test of excellence, not to books generally, but to
each channel in which individual interest has a right to seek its own
development. By a psychological consideration, we are able to hitch our
wagon to a star, to span the distance separating the Present and the
Past, the Real and the Ideal. Myth flows imperceptibly into legend;
and, with all the massive proportions of the heroic, legend enters and
becomes part of history. And history is vitalised only when we present
it to children in the form of biography. Is it not Carlyle who defines
history as the biography of great men?

Thus, we add still more to the positive factors in our book selecting.
We will not disguise for the child the true character of a volume
by a nomenclature which is indefinite. Better the terms “How We
Are Governed” than “Civics”; and “How to Make Things” than “Manual
Training.” We will satisfy all tastes by the best to be had, and that
rule shall be proverbial. The boy, deprived of his dime novel,[48]
must be given something just as daring, just as redolent with
sensationalism; but we will transfer his den of thieves from the
areaway to the broad green forest, and his profession of robbery shall
grow into outlawry; his Jesse James become Robin Hood. Some of the best
literature contains the quality of sensationalism; it is the form that
the dime novel has taken, and the cheap exploitation of filthy detail,
that have obscured many of the most beneficial elements in melodrama.
The Adventures of Ulysses, the Twelve Labours of Hercules, Daniel in
the Lion’s Den, Jonathan and David--the green lights are not far away.

Have you ever watched the breathlessness of a messenger boy with his
“Ragged Dick Series”; the intent, eager faces in the gallery of the
theatre during a melodrama? Nine times out of ten, morals are not
being perverted; crime is not being glorified, but severely punished;
chivalry is acting in shirt-sleeves; the good is winning its just
deserts in a large way, and the boy glows. Not that I would have our
libraries circulate “Ragged Dick,” but there is more to remember in
such stimulation, there is more _effect_ than will ever be drawn from
the conventional tale with its customary noble and ignoble heroes. The
amount of inane fiction concocted for children is pernicious.

Literature has been made cold to the child, yet there is nothing warmer
than a classic, when properly handled. Each man lives in his own age;
we are creatures of timeliness, but we see the clearer for being at
times on the mountain peak. The traveller from an antique land is part
of our experience quite as much as the man around the corner. What I
contend is that the attraction, the appeal of a story depends largely
on the telling. With a broad sweep of right emotion, we must be taught
to soar, and there must be no penalty of arrest for wishing to o’erleap
the false horizon of a city skyline. The tenement boy is a dreamer,
even though he perforce must lay his cheek against the rough brick of
an air-shaft and squint up at the stars. The democracy of a public
library system affords him equal opportunities with Keats--even though
he may not have the same capacity for enjoyment--to look into Chapman’s
Homer; he is entitled to all that vast experience, that same “hoard of
goodly states and kingdoms.” But if his author is not deep-browed, if
he, too, is not given the same pure serenity of view, if his Chapman
does not speak out loud and bold, he will feel himself defrauded of the
vitalising meaning of literature, he will have missed being

    ... like some watcher of the skies
    When a new planet swims into his ken.

This, therefore, should make you determine to cry against mediocrity;
to purchase for those empty shelves the best of a class, the best of an
edition, and the most authentic of texts.

Lady Eastlake once wrote: “The real secret of a child’s book consists
not merely in its being less dry and less difficult, but more rich in
interest, more true to nature, more exquisite in art, more abundant
in every quality that replies to childhood’s keener and fresher
perceptions. Such being the case, the best of juvenile reading will be
found in libraries belonging to their elders, while the best juvenile
writing will not fail to delight those who are no longer children.
‘Robinson Crusoe,’ the standing favourite of above a century, was not
originally written for children; and Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Tales of a
Grandfather,’ addressed solely to them, are the pleasure and profit
of every age, from childhood upward. Our little friends tear Pope’s
‘Odyssey’ from mamma’s hands, while she takes up their ‘Agathos’[49]
with an admiration which no child’s can exceed.”

The opinion here quoted somewhat overstates the real case. The
experienced librarian of to-day could tell a different tale from the
loan desk; it is the average young person she must have in mind, and
the average understanding. But this understanding is not commensurate
with the reading ability of the child; it is much above it, and this
fact also should be considered an asset for the librarian to work
with. Despite the theories regarding how a story should be told to a
seven-year-old reader, and to one twelve years old, the volumes do not
very consistently adapt themselves to such a classification. The buyer
must say: Is it to be read _by_ the child? Consider his schooling. Is
it to be read _to_ the child? Consider his understanding.

Let us not subject ourselves to the criticism that our ideals will not
work. If they are unpractical, they are useless and must be amended. It
is recognised that something more is wanted than the “masterpiece,” so
guardedly extolled by Mr. Everett T. Tomlinson,[50] a popular author
of boys’ books. He separates the boy and the classic by a wide gulf of
adolescent requirements; he pleads for something in addition to bone
and tendon; he believes the boy demands material to fit his mental
estate, which is not equipped for “ready response” to adult literature.
In other words, the juvenile book of to-day, which is well typified by
his own stories, is to supplement and not to supplant the “masterpiece.”

The situation is a rather delicate and uncertain one; it would be well,
as Mr. Tomlinson suggests, if the results, as he thinks, were actually
the case. But does the girl, who reads her “series” trilogy, slip from
Dinsmore into Dickens; or does the boy, with his Henty books filling
shelf after shelf, graduate therefrom into Scott? The theory does not
work, and, even if it did, an immense amount of energy is going to
waste somewhere. Miss Hewins, from her extensive experience as a worker
in the Hartford Public Library, has outlined what you can get from a
Henty book [Wisconsin Library Bulletin. Madison, Sept.-Oct., 1906.
Vol. 2, No. 5.]; her plan is most interesting, and, were there readers
possessing the zeal necessary to make such literature permanently
serviceable, we could actually view knowledge growing from more to
more. The summary is as follows:

“If a boy reads nothing but Henty for a year or so, he is not likely to
care for the great historical novels of the world later, but if he uses
him under guidance, reading after each one of his books a better story
of the same period, if he look up places on a map, unfamiliar words and
references in a dictionary or cyclopædia, and if he reads a life of
one of the real characters in every book, he is well on his way to an
intelligent interest in general history.”

But would it not be just as well to centre this concentration directly
on Scott? The librarian will doubtless claim that the boy turns more
readily to the one than to the other, and I believe that this is
largely due to the over-emphasis of Scott as a standard author, and of
Henty as a popular writer for boys. Scott has never been issued in form
to catch the young reader’s eye. Given as many illustrations as Henty,
relegating the preface to the appendix, or omitting it altogether, and
the author of “Waverley” would be found to have lost none of his grip.
You will receive from any librarian the unfailing statement that one of
the most constant ambitions is to reduce the proportion of fiction in
circulation, and, in that proportion, to preserve what is of true worth
in place of the mediocre average of the modern story-books.

Mr. Tomlinson’s analysis of the qualities in a child’s book may be
indicated by seven divisions:

  _a._ There must be a story.

  _b._ There must be vigorous action with little contemplation.
       “Analysis and introspection are words outside of his [the
       child’s] vocabulary,” says Mr. Tomlinson.

  _c._ Fancy is more to be sought for than pure imagination.

  _d._ The writer must regard the moral character of boys: a lack
       of mercy, a strict sense of justice; he must regard their
       faith which is credulity; their sentiment of reverence;
       their power of being convinced.

  _e._ The writer must likewise consider the differences between
       the sexes in the point of moral faculties, even though in
       many respects they are the same. For girls have tender
       consciences, though not so tenacious; they are quick to
       promise, and as quick to forget; they are easily stirred to
       pity, their sympathy easily appealed to. Bringing it down to
       an animalistic basis, Mr. Tomlinson believes that though
       the ancestral cruelty in girls is not so evident as in boys,
       when it does flash forth it is sharper in every way. “To
       both, right and wrong are absolute, not relative terms,
       and a youthful misanthrope is as much of an anomaly as a
       youthful grandfather.”

  _f._ The sentiments must be directed in channels of usefulness
       and power, hence the story of patriotism, the situation of
       courage, the incident of tenderness.

  _g._ Since the faculties in action are receptive, rather than
       perceptive, since the memory is keen to hold, the writer
       must bear this psychological status in mind.


In fine, recognising that even in his play the boy takes things
seriously, and believing that the juvenile intellect “seeks the
reasonable more than the process of reasoning,” Mr. Tomlinson shapes
a dicta of criticism, a standard by which the child’s book may be
recognised in terms of vital characteristics. Apply them to recent
juvenile books, if you will, and you will find the majority wanting.
But will not the classics meet these requirements? Are we to relegate
the best we have to the back shelves, and buy nothing that smacks of
good style? Instead of putting tight bands of expectancy about our
minds, and of making us bow down before a throne of iced classics, let
the librarian treat the “Iliad” genially, let her represent “Siegfried”
with the broad heavens above him. The classics have _yielding_ power.

It is characteristic of every age that a discontent is always manifest
with the conditions as they exist at the time. As early as 1844,
the child’s book, _per se_, was brought under rigourous scrutiny by
an unnamed critic in the _Quarterly Review_, and what was said then
applies equally as well to the state of affairs to-day. But this very
entertaining writer, talking in terms of judgment founded upon a
keen understanding of what such a book should be, attempts a list of
juvenile books which bears all the ear-marks of his age; he finds it
necessary to select from the immediate supply; he knows that there is
the author of his own era whom he cannot discard. We have a lurking
suspicion that, with his canons of criticism, he would have altered his
list, could he have looked in perspective. But there was very little
range in children’s books of that day; the species was just becoming
accentuated, and his element of _timeliness_ had to be regarded.
Therefore, while we are pleading with the librarian for a high choice
in the selection of books, we know that were the _timely_ volume
omitted, simply on the basis that it did not conform with one’s idea
of the best, the library would become fixed, like a dead language. The
_Quarterly_ article was written at a time when the secularisation of
juvenile literature was just beginning to take place; the moral and the
educational factors were looking askance, the one at the other, both
claiming the boy and girl for instruction, but each from a different
basis. Our author pleads for the healthy, normal reader, in whom
“still-born” knowledge--mere lifeless acquisition--were a curse indeed!
He cries out against the educational catechism, as he does against the
moral one. His discriminating thesis advances in threefold manner, for
he writes:

“Those who insist on keeping the sense of enjoyment rigidly back, till
that of comprehension has been forcibly urged forward--who stipulate
that the one shall not be indulged till the other be appeased--are in
reality but retarding what they most affect to promote.”

And again:

“Children have no sooner begun to enjoy than they are called upon to
reflect; they have no sooner begun to forget that there exists in the
world such a little being as themselves than they are pulled back to
remember, not only what they are, but what they will one day infallibly
become.”

And still again:

“Children seem to possess an inherent conviction that when the hole is
big enough for the cat, no smaller one at the side is needed for the
kitten. They do not really care for ‘Glimpses’ of this, or ‘Gleanings’
of that, or ‘Footsteps’ to the other--they would rather stretch and
pull....”

From a desert of dust-covered magazines, this comes to us like a
hidden spring bubbling with energy which no outer crust of years can
quell.[51] Then as now, they had the pernicious school-book--instance
Peter Parley;[52] then as now, they had the flippant tale. Our unknown
author recommended “Puss in Boots,” with designs by Otto Specker, as
the beau ideal of nursery books, and the Grimm Tales with Cruikshank’s
illustrations; he recognised the admirable qualities in the verses by
the Taylor sisters. Miss Edgeworth, Miss Tytler, Mrs. Barbauld, Mrs.
Hofland, Mary Howitt (although some of her books are questioned),
Catherine Sinclair, Mrs. Marcet, and a host of others, now dead to the
circulating shelves, received their quota of commendation. The list
is a curious example of existing circumstances; it illustrates the
futility of crystallising the library system; it demonstrates that
the library, as an institution, must reflect the aspirations of its
age, not overreaching its full capacity of usefulness and of average
excellence.


II. THE LIBRARY, THE SCHOOL, THE HOME: A PLEA FOR CULTURE.

“Criticism,” says Matthew Arnold, “must maintain its independence of
the practical spirit and its aims. Even with well-meant efforts of the
practical spirit it must express dissatisfaction, if in the sphere
of the ideal they seem impoverishing and limiting.” Still, not for a
moment are we able to lose sight of the active working conditions of
the library. Speculation as to the functions of such an institution in
a community may lead to the formulation of certain ideals which are to
guide the practical machinery in the future. But, on the instant, there
is the urgent necessity of supply and demand; the theorist must cope
with the actual reader calling for a book.

It is, however, only proper to expect that human activity be directed,
not along the lines of least resistance, but along the lines of best
results. This infers that the library, as an institution, fully
recognises that it has a function to perform in society, and that it
will strive, in its several capacities, so to unify its activities that
it will become a force as well as a convenience.

Through pleasure, we would train the child to future usefulness;
physically we would let him find expression for all his surplus energy;
but as a reader, we would so far guide him that none of his mental
energy will go to waste. Intellectually, a boy or a girl should not be
given what one library called “leisure hour reading”; a book should not
mean, for either, a vehicle for frittering the time away, but their
training should lead to the finding of “tongues in trees, books in the
running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.”

An essential purpose is a most important element in the future history
of children’s rooms, and at the present initial stage it were unwise
to criticise the methods by which the library is trying to state this
purpose in definite terms. But whether we regard its activity in the
direction of the home, the school, the settlement, or the city at
large, we may safely claim that its main duty in all directions is
to supply the best books to be had on any stated line. And herein we
discover the connection that ought to exist between our schools as
educational, and our libraries as cultural centres. In Buffalo, Mr.
Melvil Dewey, during an address given to teachers, said:

“By law, the children are put under your influence in their earlier
years, when, if ever, they can be taught to love good books so well
that in all their lives thereafter they will seize on every opportunity
to read them. If the librarians, with their wing of the educational
army, can select and catalogue and provide free of cost the best on
every subject, the schoolmen, with their wing and with their immensely
larger resources both of money and men--and still better, of devoted
women--must send out from the schools, year by year, boys and girls
who will be lifelong patrons of the public library, and will, in due
time, help to send their own children along the paths which have proved
for them so profitable and pleasant; ... but its great work should be
the partial recognition that education is no longer for youth and for
a limited course, in a school to which they give most of their time,
but that it is really a matter for adults as well as youth, for life
and not for the course, to be carried on at home as well as in the
schools, and to be taken up in the hours or minutes of leisure, as the
proper accompaniment of their regular business or labour. This means
that education must be carried on by means of reading, and that, if
the librarians are to furnish the books and give all necessary help in
their proper field, the schools must furnish the readers.”

It is, therefore, the supreme function of a supervisor of school
libraries to reconcile culture with knowledge-getting--taste and desire
with mental training--quite as much as it is his official duty to
furnish supplementary books for the class-rooms. In fact, the former
should become his chief business, for in the other capacity he slightly
encroaches upon, rather than aids--duplicates in expense, rather than
enforces by supplying a need--the work being done by the neighbourhood
library.

Between the school and the library there should thus be a reciprocal
interchange of courtesies, the sum total of which tends toward
culture.[53] For the child is the potential man, and in our reading,
despite the opportunities for education, we are not made to understand,
at the early age when habits are most readily formed, the real import
of the sustaining power of art.

The reading of novels is a delightful recreation; it is not the reading
which should be questioned; it is the power to stop. Periods of rest
are a psychological necessity, but it is the power of returning from
the side issue to the life issue, which, in so many cases, is the
missing element. The literature that does nothing more than amuse is
not the literature which, in future days, one is to fall back on as a
maintaining force. Browning cries out:

      I count life just a stuff
    To try the soul’s strength on, educe the man.

The man of culture is something more than an upstart; his is a slow but
a steady growth; the smallest star that burns into the night is one
whose rays have taken years to reach the earth. Out of the varied but
unified elements, the personality evolves its view of life; it may not
necessarily be a life among books; Shakespeare the man and Shakespeare
the poet are contradictions. The sustaining force in literature is no
protector in the sense that it shields us from some impending danger.
It settles behind us, pushes us, heart and soul, with a burning
resolution, through the darkest night. The cultured man finds himself
clinging to the sunnier side of doubt, not because Tennyson advises it,
but because it has become part of his philosophy; he falls back upon a
part of himself developed by literature.

Our neighbour is but a composite picture of numberless developments,
all working toward a definite goal. We call him the cultured man. Our
neighbour is one who tries to show us as many pictures of himself,
working in different directions, as he thinks will clothe him in a
mist of thought. We call him the dilettante. Dilettanteism does not
sustain; we either have to be perfectly honest with ourselves, or else
be discovered by others in the end.

The habit of association with good books is, therefore, one which
our school systems need to inculcate. The supervisor of class-room
libraries should strive to supplement the text-book with something that
is not a text-book; the outlines of history should be strengthened
by _bona fide_ biography instead of by the hybrid type of fiction. A
committee in Germany, after working some years over the recommendations
of books for children, finally printed a list of 637 volumes--calling
attention to a weakness in travel, popular science, and biography. This
condition is as true in England and America; and one of the causes
for the deficiency may be accounted for by the substitution of the
text-book style for the dignified narrative. The writer of juvenile
books, other than fiction, has not realised, up to the present time,
that the direct treatment is capable of being understood by young
people.

Conscious of this weakness, the librarian in time will banish from
the circulating shelves the text-book, _per se_; and the school child
should be prepared to meet the change. If he is given instruction in
the uses of a dictionary,[54] and of a card catalogue; if he is trained
by degrees to hunt up references--he should as well be familiarized
with the transition from text-book to authority, from selection to
source, from part to whole. From the mere usefulness of books he should
be taught the attractive power of books. This, it would seem, is one of
the fundamental relations existing between the library and the school.

With the increase of facilities, with the specialised consideration
paid to children’s reading by librarian and by teacher, there arises
the factor of the parent in connection with the two. What part, in
the general plan, does the home occupy? It furnishes the scholar;
it furnishes the reader. In private instruction, it may dictate
what shall be taught to the boy or girl; in public instruction, the
individual becomes part of the system. The home may purchase books
for the particular taste of this child or of that, but the public
library must attend to _all_ demands. Because of its democratic
mission, it partially discourages the private ownership of books by
the average person. Therefore, in most essentials, the State furnishes
the means of instruction and indicates what that instruction shall be
in its elementary stages; the State likewise supports the library, a
repository where the regulation and censorship are minimised as far as
the reader is concerned.

Let us acknowledge the peculiar social and economic conditions that
conduce to deprive the home of the means or of the time to give to
the proper training of children: the crowded tenement, the isolated
mountain cabin are alike in this denial. But the school and the library
are counteracting the deficiency. The mental condition in the tenement
is more in a state of ferment than in the mountains; the second
generation of the ignorant emigrant in New York or Chicago or Cleveland
or Pittsburg is far more fortunate than the new generation peopling our
Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. Yet the school and the library are
penetrating the dense maze--they are defying isolation, and we will
doubtless discover, before long, that the stagnation throughout the
Tennessee ranges, and bordering the northern line of the Shenandoah
Valley, has beneath it a great potential future of intellectual
development. Until the social settlement passes through its
experimental stage,--perhaps its very existence is dependent upon its
experimental character--it were not safe to speculate on how largely it
will aid in making the home so far independent of consuming necessity
that it will respect the refinements of life, and will recognise that,
in so doing, each individual raises his own self-respect. Should
the settlement accomplish this, however little, it will justify its
existence.

The home, none the less, remains a factor, and its responsibility is
none the less urgent. The story hour is one of its legacies from the
past, and through it, the parent should cater wisely to a child’s
desire for a tale. If the library is also adopting the same means,
this in no way should relieve the parent of the prerogative; it should
only afford her an opportunity of improving upon her own idea as to
how a story should be told. Home influence should direct this juvenile
desire, this individual taste; for no one has the close knowledge of a
boy or girl possessed by the father or mother.

The habit of good reading, mentioned before, should be the joint
product of the library, the school, and the home. Yet, in many
instances, the library card of the child is of small consideration to
the parent. This is more likely due to indifference than to an absolute
confidence in the library’s effort to bring juvenile readers in contact
with the best books. The woman’s club that will study the problem
of children’s reading, as sedulously as it analyses the pathologic
significance of Ibsen’s heroines, will be rendering a service to the
library, as well as fitting its members to pass some judgment on the
publisher’s yearly output of juvenile books.


III. BOOK-LISTS AND BOOK-SELECTING.

“Shall we permit our children,” wrote Plato in the “Republic,” “without
scruple to hear any fables composed by any authors indifferently, and
so to receive into their minds opinions generally the reverse of those
which, when they are grown to manhood, we shall think they ought to
entertain?” To a negative reply from Adeimantus, Glaucon’s brother,
Plato continued: “Then apparently our first duty will be to exercise
a superintendence over the authors of fables, selecting their good
productions, and rejecting the bad. And the selected fables we shall
advise our nurses and mothers to repeat to their children, that they
may thus mould their minds with the fables, even more than they shape
their bodies with the hand.”

Upon the broad principles here formulated the value of the children’s
rooms depends. For it will be conceded that the two requisites of a
library are to place good books upon the shelves and to see that they
are read.

In the first section of this chapter, the individual promptings of a
conscientious person were suggested; but a more systematic method of
book-selection should be adopted, whereby a book is chosen because it
has passed scrutiny of a committee elected for the special purpose. In
order to protect the average demand, such a board should, of necessity,
be a body catholic in taste, and not wholly academic in tone. It should
bear in mind that a consulting library is different in function and
in appeal from the general circulating branches; that the specialised
critic must pass, not always upon whether there is sufficient fact
in the book, but upon whether what fact there is has been dealt with
truly, rather than fully.

As early as 1893, Paul Ziegler established a German monthly, the
_Jugendschriftenwarte_, in which he purposed to teach the German
people how to examine children’s books, classical and modern. He
believed firmly that he would be able to reach some scientific basis,
some consistent standard, which would be founded upon psychological,
pedagogical, and æsthetic experience. This ambitious beginning by
Ziegler led to the organisation of committees for the same purpose.
In 1900, there were twenty-six centres throughout the Empire engaged
in the study, and they were soon gathered together by Heinrich
Wolgast,[55] a specialist on the subject of children’s reading, into
a “union” called “Die vereinigten deutschen Prüfungsausschüsse für
Jugendschriften.”

By 1906, the movement had so grown that seventy-eight local committees,
with a common interest and a strong organisation, were working in
twenty-six German States, their energy being felt and their example
being followed in Austria, Switzerland, and France.

These committees have been weeding out, according to their æsthetic,
educational, and national ideals, all undesirable literature for
children, leaving nothing but the best. It would appear that in the
course of their examination they called into account the opinions of
parent, teacher, librarian, author, illustrator, and publisher. The
local committees, working in hearty sympathy with the local libraries,
had but one watchword, _excellent_; the book was read three times by
a number of committees--sometimes as many as six, when the book would
pass through eighteen hands. If a committee’s decision was unanimous,
the result was sent to the central office of the confederation; if
there was a difference of opinion, an arbitrator was called in.

Miss Isabel Chadburn, in a suggestive article,[56] quotes fully some of
the final reports which are always sent to the _Jugendschriftenwarte_
for publication. Here is one dealing summarily with a book:

“‘The Lifeboat,’ Ballantyne (From the English of). Four pictures in
colour, black-and-white illustrations in the text; second edition; 8vo,
122 pages. Leipzig: Otto Spamer, 1892. Price 1 m.

“Tested by: Berlin (no); Breslau (no); Halle (no); Königsberg (yes);
Posen (no); Stettin (yes).

“A story of adventure in which the interest of the reader is directly
excited through the keeping up of a succession of extraordinary events.
The characterisation is utterly superficial and contradictory. The
style, hard to understand on account of the numerous technical nautical
terms, is full of indistinct and distorted metaphors and expressions.
The pictures are crude and badly drawn. Upon these grounds the book is
rejected.”

By the German method, a poor book would find small chances of
surviving. Already this test has met with opposition from the German
“Union of Booksellers, Selling on a Commission.” But the crusade is
steadily gaining ground and the influence having effect.

The academic tone detected in this plan is its one objection. Were
the same policy adopted in America, it would only add to an already
over-conscious education-getting process. As we seem to be obsessed
by the idea, far better it would be simply to trust to a general
impression of a book, than to have it squeezed and analysed out of
existence. A teacher who served on such a board would be obliged to
cut herself completely adrift from the school-room atmosphere, and
to criticise from a cultural standpoint, tempered by her educational
experience.

We have our own children to consider; European States are sending us
theirs. It is no small matter to decide what they should read. In the
library, the juvenile member is to find a full and free development.
Russian and Polish, French, German and Italian, Yiddish and
English--all these must be satisfied. But there is one thing positive;
however conglomerate the membership, a library for children must assume
as a fundamental maxim that the best books alone will create the best
taste.

We shall be obliged to come to it sooner or later,--a guillotine
method--the wholesale eviction of all literature which is an outgrowth
of this attempt to drag our classics down, in order to appeal
condescendingly to youthful intellects, and to foreshorten our fiction
so as to satisfy a trivial mood. Wisely, the librarian is moving by
degrees; a sudden adoption of a rigorous standard would find an army
of readers wholly unprepared; the ideal must be made to suit the needs
of different environments. Whatever rules are formulated to hasten
the improvement, they must be pliable and not fixed; for, though all
localities may be improving, this betterment will be found to vary in
degree with each section.

Having stacked the shelves, the next step is to appeal to the child
through suggestion; to find out, as well as opportunity will permit,
wherein his tastes lie, and what class of book dominates his card, as
seen by the catalogue notation stamped upon it. The librarian must seek
to divert any miscarriage of energy; to lead away from undesirable
tendencies by gradual substitution of something a little higher
in motive and much stronger in style. She must resort to exciting
subterfuges: the bulletin accessory, the book-lists, the story hour--in
fact, whatever her inventive mind can shape to awaken interest, to
foster a desire for something above the average taste.

There are some who approve of closing the shelves to children, and in
this way of directing the distribution of books to the individual. Not
only is this impracticable, but it deprives a child of that personal
contact with all kinds of books by means of which he is to learn his
own inclination. We must infer that all books upon the juvenile shelves
are placed there because they are thought suitable for children.
The librarian may reserve that prerogative of concealing a book and
regarding it out, should a demand for it come from one who should
not, for any apparent reason, have it. But the jurisdiction of the
librarian over the child-taste, just as the jurisdiction of the teacher
over the child-mind, ends where the home is expected to proclaim its
effectiveness and its right.


IV. THE EXPERIMENTAL TEMPTATION.

Many attempts have been made to treat statistically the reading tastes
of children, but the results are significant only in a few details, and
even these vary from locality to locality, as they differ from child to
child. The psychology of sex becomes apparent by the manner in which
boys and girls respond to the same stimulus. But we ought not to place
much value upon a canvass of this kind, for the answers that are sent
to any class of questions are more or less artificial, in many cases
reflecting some grown person’s estimate of a book. It is important for
the librarian to know the proportions in which fiction and non-fiction
are circulated, and what books are in greatest demand. The temperature
changes of taste need thus to be followed. But history deals with
crucial moments.

Every one interested in the subject of juvenile reading has tried
to experiment and has received quaint answers to stereotyped
questions--answers filled with humour, now and then with a spontaneous
exclamation of appreciation. In my own case, some four hundred
letters were sent to me from children, North and South. They showed
me local variations in reading tastes; they showed me educational
weaknesses, such as a general mechanical study of a few hackneyed
poems; they showed me an indiscriminate reading, by the fourteen-
or fifteen-year-old girl, of fiction such as Besant’s “Children of
Gideon” and Mrs. Humphry Ward’s “Fenwick’s Career.” Furthermore, they
pointed in some instances to individual tastes; and most of them
indicated a dire confusion as to the meaning of the terms _fiction_ and
_non-fiction_.

By such an experiment, however, one begins to realise how rich the
field of juvenile energy is--a stream of voluntary desire seeking some
course to the sea. From a multitude of such letters one may comprehend
why the librarian insists on proceeding slowly in order to counteract
deficiencies. The newsboy, without his five-cent weekly, still must
have his penny-dreadful classic; the girl, too old for the juvenile
book, must be furnished with a transitional book on the way to the
grown-up shelves; our foreign children must be encouraged to read,
according to the librarian’s idea, something different from themselves,
something not of their own environment.[57]

We were warned by the writer in the _Quarterly Review_ not to regard
the extremes of genius or of dulness, in estimating children. And yet,
biography is filled with that appealing detail of juvenile taste,
which the grown person delights in recording. Lamb’s remembrance of
the Stackhouse Bible, Coleridge’s dreamy dread of the Arabian Nights,
Scott’s lusty shouting of the ballad of Hardy Knute, Tennyson’s
spreading his arms to the sky and chanting, “I hear a voice that’s
speaking in the wind,” Stevenson’s crooning to himself in the dark his
“songstries”[58]--these touches do not betoken the genius of men, but
the genius of childhood. Whenever we find such young people brought in
contact with children’s literature, they do not relish the experience;
they recognise as of value only that which they can but partially
comprehend, yet which is told out of the depths of a writer’s heart and
understanding. They respond to the spirit of great literature from
their earliest moments; for its sake, they overcome the sensitiveness
of temperament which nowadays must be in so far reckoned with that all
causes for fear are rejected from a story. To them, there is a certain
educative value in fear. Coleridge, timourous as he was when not more
than six, devoured the gilt-covered books of Jack-the-Giant-Killer and
of Tom Hickathrift, whom Thackeray delighted in, not because he was so
tall, but because he was so _thick_; and though it is said that his
father burnt many of these nerve-exacting tales, we hear Coleridge
exclaiming during the course of a lecture delivered in 1811:

“Give me the works which delighted my youth! Give me the History of St.
George and the Seven Champions of Christendom, which at every leisure
moment I used to hide myself in a corner to read! Give me the Arabian
Nights’ Entertainments, which I used to watch, till the sun shining
on the book-case approached, and, glowing full upon it, gave me the
courage to take it from the shelf.”[59]

We interpret these remarks in terms of genius, without giving the
average mind credit for such opinions, just because they are left
unrecorded. Every child has his night fears and his day dreams,
however regulated they may be by his social environment. These vary in
degree according to the intellectual energy and spiritual refinement
fostered in each one of us. The librarian’s problem is based upon an
acknowledgment of this potential energy and refinement; she reckons
with the child’s voluntary interest. For all childhood is seeking to
find expression in numberless ways; its eye for the first time sees the
outline of life, its voice expresses for the first time the rhythm of
its nature in song. Its compass in all things is small, but its timbre
is pure.


FOOTNOTES:

[47] The general complaint among librarians is that these picture-books
of the best type are too rare and too expensive to purchase in large
quantities for general circulation.

[48] Read Stevenson’s “A Penny Plain” in Memories and Portraits; also
“The Dime Novel in American Life,” by Charles M. Harvey, _Atlantic_,
100:37 (July, 1907).

[49] By Archdeacon Wilberforce, Hannah More’s friend.

[50] _Vide_ “Reading for Boys and Girls,” by Everett T. Tomlinson.
_Atlantic_, 86:693 (Nov., 1900).

[51] Article on Children’s Books. Reprinted in _Living Age_, Aug. 10,
1844, 2:1.

[52] There was the Elliptical Questioning--a form of “drawing out” and
“injecting” knowledge and information.

[53] In a letter to the author, Mr. C. G. Leland, Superintendent of the
Bureau of Libraries, New York Board of Education, plainly states the
province and the mission of the school library. He writes: “Nearly all
of our educational institutions nowadays are very busily engaged in
supplying _useful information_. The practical is crowding everything
else out of their courses of study. The kind of knowledge that will
help in the future struggle for existence and material betterment is
being demanded more and more and is being taught to the exclusion of
much that is only ethical or cultural.

“As a continual protest against this materialistic tendency the school
library takes its position and marshals its books. Its first purpose is
to create a love for good literature and beautiful pictures as soon as
the child has mastered the mechanics of reading; its ultimate aim is
culture.

“In the elementary school the library should reach to every class-room
and offer there a few very attractive and very carefully selected
books, so attractive and so well graded that the most indifferent boy
or girl will be led by easy stages into the green fields of literature.

“The class-room is still the strategic point, for even homes of
refinement are wont to delegate the work of directing the children’s
reading to the school, and the teacher with her case of well-known
books has every day opportunities denied to public librarian and to the
majority of parents.

“The school library naturally points the way to the public library; its
relation to that institution is that of the preparatory school to the
university.

“In supplying reference-books, and in correlating a certain amount of
recreative reading with the school course, the library has another
important field, but one which should be subordinated to the larger and
broader function.”

[54] This involves a careful consideration of a juvenile reference
library.

[55] Heinrich Wolgast, the German authority, has written: “Vom
Kinderbuch,” Leipzig, Teubner, 1906.

[56] _Vide_ London _Library Association Record_, Feb. 15, 1907.

[57] This last statement, however, may be refuted by the répertoire of
a Yiddish theatre. I have witnessed the theme of “King Lear” applied to
Jewish life, and followed with bated breath by the boy in the gallery.

[58] Stevenson’s father once stood outside the door and recorded one of
these impromptu poems. The Rev. Charles Kingsley, when a boy, is said
to have done the same thing.

[59] _Vide_ W. M. Rossetti’s Memoirs of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Chap.
VI, Childish Book Reading and Scribbling.




VI. APPENDIX


I. BOOK-LISTS PUBLISHED BY LIBRARIES.

What principle of selection shall one adopt in making a book-list? No
hard and fast rules can be framed, for what I may consider best may be
rejected as second best by you. There is not a book-list issued that
does not differ from the others in many essentials; in classification,
in titles, and in purpose. Most of these lists are marked by a sincere
effort on the part of librarians to direct a child’s reading along the
best lines. But even though they may be suggestive and helpful, at
the most they are passive and need to be supplemented by a personal
knowledge of the books recommended. For, in the lists of history and
biography, a compiler finds it necessary to adopt many volumes that
are far from literary in the style of writing or in the manner of
treatment. To-morrow these books may give place to others far superior
and far more permanent in value.

The agreement between the lists, however, does show that there are
numberless stories, legends, and the like, which are generally acceded
to be desirable, as much because of their inherent freshness as
because of the fact that they have stood the test of time. Rarely do
the lists fail to mention them.

Notwithstanding, the recommendations issued by the libraries usually
are sent forth, hedged around by exceptions and by indirect warnings.
This is a healthful sign; it indicates that, however intent the maker
of book-lists may be to offer the best, human nature is not all of the
same calibre, and excellence is of an illusive character.

It is with some peculiar pleasure that I offer the list of books in
this Appendix, protecting myself, and the committee that aided me,
with excuses, and forestalling criticism by claiming that while the
recommendations have been made to the best of several abilities, and in
accord with no mean standards of selection--at the same time much has
been included of necessity which will pass away in the years to come.
This is not an exclusive list; the attempt has been made to have it a
practical, workable list, for parents and teachers and librarians to
consult, bringing to it their own personal judgment as to individual
taste and development of the child under consideration. Such a term as
“the child” has been used reluctantly, since there is no other term,
more human, less mechanical, to take its place. Because of this dislike
for a stereotyped grading of childhood, the reader will here find no
indication as to age demands. The books have been mentioned with a
generous range of from six to fifteen years.

Other lists will be found to include a fuller division of subjects.
Notably in the historical sections, they will contain many more
references than are here given. Our histories smack largely of the
school-room; they do not differ so very much from each other as to
excellence; they are very apt to agree in the zealousness with which
they follow fact. If we decide to seek for general literary merit, we
should avoid, as far as possible, the inclusion of what we know is not
the case; of what we know is intended for the class-room.

And so, in order to supplement our method, which may be considered too
narrow or too broad, the following table of available lists, which have
been brought to my notice, is included:


BOOK-LISTS

A. L. A. ANNOTATED LISTS--Books for Boys and Girls. A Selected List
    Compiled by Caroline M. Hewins, Librarian of the Hartford Public
    Library. 1904. $0.15. A most judicious and literary standard.

A LIST OF BOOKS RECOMMENDED FOR A CHILDREN’S LIBRARY--Compiled for
    the Iowa Library Commission by Annie Carroll Moore, Supervisor
    of Children’s Rooms in the New York City Public Library. Another
    excellent and practical guide.

BOOKS FOR BOYS--Special Bulletin No. 6. January, 1906. The Chicago
    Public Library. A generous selection for boys from twelve to
    eighteen; an inclusive list, marked more by vigour than by
    refinement of a fastidious nature.

FINGERPOSTS TO CHILDREN’S READING--Walter Taylor Field. McClurg, $1.00.
    The book contains some practical suggestions about children and
    their reading. The lists in the Appendix are open to criticism.

THE RIGHT READING FOR CHILDREN--Compiled by Charles Welsh. Heath.
    Referring chiefly to Heath’s Home and School Classics.

STORY TELLING TO CHILDREN FROM NORSE MYTHOLOGY AND THE
    NIBELUNGENLIED--References to Material on Selected Stories,
    Together with an Annotated Reading List. Carnegie Library,
    Pittsburgh. $0.20. Excellent.

STORY HOUR COURSES FOR CHILDREN FROM GREEK MYTHS, THE ILIAD, AND THE
    ODYSSEY, as Conducted by the Children’s Department of the Carnegie
    Library of Pittsburgh. $0.05. An excellent guide.

A LIST OF GOOD STORIES TO TELL TO CHILDREN UNDER TWELVE YEARS OF AGE,
    with a Brief Account of the Story Hour Conducted by the Children’s
    Department, Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh. $0.05. The same Library
    has issued:

ANNOTATED CATALOGUE OF BOOKS USED IN THE HOME LIBRARIES AND READING
    CLUBS, conducted by the Children’s Department. $0.25.

BOOKS FOR CHILDREN--A List Compiled by Gertrude Wild Arnold. The Marion
    Press, New York. 1905.

READING FOR THE YOUNG--Sargent. Houghton.

A CHILDREN’S LIBRARY--Selected by May H. Prentice and Effie L. Power,
    in behalf of the Cleveland Normal School.

CATALOGUE OF BOOKS FOR PUBLIC SCHOOL LIBRARIES IN NEW YORK--Compiled by
    Claude G. Leland. Marked by educational requirements, and graded.

A LIST OF BOOKS ON BIRDS for the General Reader and Students. Audubon
    Society of the State of New York. Recommended by Mr. Frank M.
    Chapman, of the New York Museum of Natural History. _Vide_
    “Bird-Lore,” a magazine which Mr. Chapman edits.

CHILDREN’S REFERENCE LISTS--Cleveland Public Library. English History
    for the Sixth Grade. The system here adopted is excellent, and
    might be followed with advantage in other lines.

CHILDREN, SCHOOLS, AND LIBRARIES--A list, with abstracts, of some of
    the more important contributions to the subject. Compiled by Marion
    Dickinson in 1897; revised by Mary Medlicott in 1899. Springfield
    Public Library. Springfield, Massachusetts. A very serviceable
    pamphlet.

FIVE HUNDRED BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG--George E. Hardy. Scribner.

SOME ENGLISH CATALOGUES recommended by Miss Isabel Chadburn:

    _a._ Catalogue of Books for Secondary Schools.

    _b._ Prize List, Education Committee, London County Council. Graded.

    _c._ Buckingham Palace Road Library. Mr. Pacy.

    _d._ Cable Street, Stepney, E., Library. Mr. Roebuck.

    _e._ Descriptive Handbook to Juvenile Literature. Finsbury Public
         Libraries, Mr. Cannons.

    _f._ Group of Books for Schools. Librarian of the Cardiff Library.
         Mr. Ballinger.


As far as nature books are concerned, it will be found that local
differences have to be observed; yet, though the British and American
writers are bound to these limitations, they are none the less alike
in their scope--to furnish the juvenile readers with a ready reference
guide to objects around them. In the present instance, the list which
has been compiled, voted upon, and arranged, may suit the English
child as well as the American child, although certain local inclusions
need to be balanced by the substitution of English counterparts. The
American school story, _per se_, will never supplant its English
predecessor in “Tom Brown at Rugby,” or even “The Crofton Boys.”
The American library shelves are stacked with the English make of
book. And it must be acknowledged that, in point of scholarship, the
English classics, given a library and literary _format_, surpass the
school-book shape in every way. In this connection, it is well to heed
the warning of Miss Moore:

“The choice of editions is not based upon extended comparative work.
[What is said of her list applies as well to the present one.] It
represents merely the editions which have come to my notice, some
of them being quite unsatisfactory. This is an era of educational
publications and, while many of these are admirably adapted to their
purpose, we have need to be constantly on our guard not to overstock
children’s libraries with books which have no artistic merit as to
cover or general make-up, and which therefore fail to make a definite
individual impression on the mind of the child and give to a children’s
library the general appearance of book-shelves devoted to supplementary
reading.”

Were this intended to be an exclusive list, many very rigourous
omissions would have been the result; but it is better to err upon the
generous side than to appeal to an exceptional taste. “A man’s reach
should exceed his grasp” is the Browning philosophy, but in the climb
upward the intermediate tendrils are necessary for holding on; nor must
they be removed until something is assured to take their place. The
removal of inferior books from the shelves will not remedy the matter,
unless existing circumstances are such as to meet the case.

Where it is possible, the least expensive edition has been adopted;
although it is often a fact that no choice has been given. A good
edition for a library is the most desirable, and those committees are
unwise which sacrifice quality for quantity. On the other hand, it is
unfortunate that a more suitable arrangement cannot exist, whereby the
artistic books, which, by reason of their decorative character, are
perforce expensive, could be offered at less exorbitant rates to an
institution of such social importance as a library.


II. A LIST OF SELECTED BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.


PICTURE-BOOKS AND PICTURES

(The NISTER PICTURE-BOOKS are sold in this country by DUTTON.)

BEDFORD, FRANCES D.--Book of Shops. (Verses by E. V. Lucas.) Dutton,
    $2.50.

BRADLEY, WILL--Peter Poodle, Toy Maker to the King. Dodd, $1.50 net.

CALDECOTT, RANDOLPH--Toy Books. Warne, (4 vols.) $1.25 each. The
    separate stories are sold at $0.25 each, and comprise, among a
    large number, the following: The Farmer’s Boy; A Frog He Would
    A-Wooing Go; Hey Diddle Diddle and Baby Bunting; The House That
    Jack Built; The Milk Maid; The Queen of Hearts; Ride a Cock Horse;
    Sing a Song of Sixpence; John Gilpin.

COX, PALMER--The Brownie Books. Century, $1.50 each.

CRANE, WALTER--Mother Hubbard’s Picture Book. Lane, $1.25.

    This Little Pig’s Picture Book. Lane, $1.25. [There are other
    volumes. Crane also ill. Lamb’s fanciful essay, “The Masque of
    Days.” Cassell, $2.50.]

    Mother Hubbard; This Little Pig; Aladdin; Beauty and the Beast;
    Bluebeard; The Forty Thieves; The Frog Prince; Goody Two Shoes;
    Sleeping Beauty; The Fairy Ship; Baby’s A B C. Lane, $0.25 each.

DE MONVEL, BOUTET--Filles et Garçons. (Stories by Anatole France.)
    Hachette; Brentano, $2.35.

    Chansons de France pour les petits Français. Hachette; Plon, $2.50.

    La Civilité puérile et honnête. Plon; Brentano, $2.35.

    Nos Enfants. (Text by Anatole France.) Hachette; Brentano, $1.25.

    Fables de La Fontaine, choisies pour les enfants. S. P. C. K.;
    Brentano, $2.35.

GERSON, VIRGINIA--Happy Heart Family. Duffield, $1.00. (There is a
    second volume.)

GREENAWAY, KATE--A Day in a Child’s Life. (Music, verse, pictures.)
    Warne, $1.50.

    Marigold Garden. Routledge (Warne, $1.50), $2.00.

    Under the Window. (Pictures and Rhymes.) Warne, $1.50.

    A Apple Pie, etc. Warne, $0.75.

    Mother Goose. Warne, $0.75.

    Mavor’s Spelling Book. Warne, $0.40.

GUIGOU, P. ET VIMAR, A.--L’illustre Dompteur. (The French Circus Book.)
    Plon; Brentano, $2.35.

HOFFMANN, HEINRICH--Slovenly Peter. Coates, $1.50. [German editions are
    preferable.]

PERKINS, LUCY FITCH--Adventures of Robin Hood. Stokes, $1.50.

WHITCOMB, IDA P.--Young People’s Story of Art. Dodd, $2.00. [Sarah
    Tytler is the author of “The Old Masters and their Pictures”;
    “Modern Painters and Their Paintings.” Little, Brown, $1.50 each.
    _Vide_ Poetry; also German section, Richter, etc. The French are
    here included since they are so familiar to English readers.]


MYTHS, FOLK-LORE, LEGENDS, FAIRY TALES, AND HERO TALES

ÆSOP--Fables. (Tr., Joseph Jacobs.) Macmillan, $1.50.

    A Hundred Fables of Æsop. (Tr., Sir Roger L’Estrange; intro.,
    Kenneth Grahame.) Lane, $1.50 net.

    The Babies’ Own. (Ill., Walter Crane.) Warne, $1.50.

ANDERSEN, H. C.--Fairy Tales. (Tr., H. L. Braekstad; ill., Tegner;
    2 vols.) Century, $5.00. Fairy Tales. (Tr., Mrs. Edgar Lucas.)
    Macmillan, $0.50; Dent, $2.50. [Ill., the Robinsons. _Vide_ also
    Contes Choisis, Bibliothèque Rose.]

ARABIAN NIGHTS’ ENTERTAINMENTS--(Ed., Andrew Lang.) Longmans, $2.00.

    Fairy Tales From. (Ed., E. Dixon.) Dent, 2 vols., 7s. 6d. net each.

ASBJÖRNSEN, P. C.--Fairy Tales From the Far North. Armstrong, $2.00;
    Burt, $1.00. [Folk and Fairy Tales. Tr., H. L. Braekstad; intro.,
    E. W. Gosse.]

BALDWIN, JAMES--The Story of Siegfried. (Ill., Pyle.) Scribner, $1.50.

    The Story of Roland. (Ill., Birch.) Scribner, $1.50.

BROWN, ABBIE FARWELL--The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts. Houghton,
    $1.25.

    In the Days of Giants. Houghton, $1.10 net.

BULFINCH, THOMAS--The Age of Fable. Lothrop, Lee, $1.50. [Cheaper
    editions, Altemus, Crowell, etc.]

CANTOR, WILLIAM--True Annals of Fairyland. Reign of King Herla. (Ill.,
    Charles Robinson.) Dent, 4s. 6d. net.

CARROLL, LEWIS--Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. (Ill., Sir John
    Tenniel.) Macmillan, $1.00. [There is also an edition, Harper,
    ill., by Peter Newell, $3.00 net. The reader is advised to consult
    Mr. Dodgson’s Life and Letters.]

    Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. (Ill., Sir
    John Tenniel. Sequel to the above.) Macmillan, $1.00.

CHAPIN, A. A.--Story of the Rhinegold. Harper, $1.25. [_Vide_ also
    “Wonder Tales from Wagner.” She is the author of “Masters of
    Music.” Dodd, $1.50.]

CHURCH, A. J.--Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers of France. Macmillan,
    $1.75.

CRUIKSHANK, GEORGE--The Cruikshank Fairy Book. Putnam, $1.25; $2.00.

FRANCILLON, R. E.--Gods and Heroes. Ginn, $0.40.

GIBBON, J. M. (ED.)--True Annals of Fairyland. Reign of King Cole.
    (Ill., Charles Robinson.) Macmillan, $2.00.

GRIMM, J. L. AND W. K.--Fairy Tales of the Brothers. (Tr., Mrs. Edgar
    Lucas; ill., Arthur Rackham.) Lippincott, $2.50; $1.50. [Editions
    also ill., Cruikshank; intro., Ruskin,--Chatto and Windus, 6s.;
    Macmillan, ill., Walter Crane, $1.50; Contes Choisis; Bibliothèque
    Rose; _vide_ German section.]

HARRIS, JOEL CHANDLER--Uncle Remus and His Friends. (Ill., Frost.)
    Houghton, $1.50.

    Nights with Uncle Remus. (Ill., Church.) Houghton, $1.50.

    Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings. (Ill., Frost.) Appleton,
    $2.00.

HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL--A Wonderbook for Girls and Boys. (Ill., Walter
    Crane.) Houghton, $3.00.

    Tanglewood Tales. (Ill., G. W. Edwards.) Houghton, $1.00; $2.50.

HORNE, RICHARD HENGIST--The Good-Natured Bear. [Out of print, but
    re-publication is strongly recommended by librarians.]

INGELOW, JEAN--Mopsa, the Fairy. Little, Brown, $1.25.

IRVING, WASHINGTON--Rip Van Winkle and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
    Macmillan, $1.50. [Expensive illustrated editions issued by Putnam
    and Doubleday.]

JACOBS, JOSEPH--English Fairy Tales. Putnam, $1.25.

The Most Delectable History of Reynard the Fox. Macmillan, $1.50.

    Book of Wonder Voyages. Macmillan, $1.50.

    Celtic Fairy Tales. Putnam, $1.25.

KINGSLEY, CHARLES--The Heroes; or, Greek Fairy Tales for My Children.
    (Ill., T. H. Robinson.) Dutton, $2.50. [_Vide_ also editions
    Crowell; Harper, $2.50.]

    The Water Babies. Macmillan, $1.25. [Cheaper Editions.]

KIPLING, RUDYARD--Just-So Stories. Doubleday, $1.20 net. [There is also
    a “Just-So Song Book,” $1.20 net.]

    Jungle Book. (First and second series.) Century, $1.50 each.

    Puck of Pook’s Hill. (Ill., Arthur Rackham.) Doubleday, $1.50.

LABOULAYE, E. R. L. DE--Fairy Tales. Routledge, $1.25; Harper, $2.00.

    The Last Fairy Tales. Harper, $2.00.

LA FONTAINE--Selected Fables. (Ill., Boutet de Monvel.) Young, $2.50.

LANG, ANDREW (ED.)--The Red Fairy Book. Longmans, $2.00.

    The Blue Fairy Book. Longmans, $2.00.

    The Book of Romance. Longmans, $1.60 net.

LANIER, SIDNEY--The Boy’s King Arthur. Scribner, $2.00. [Lanier bases
    his narrative on Mallory. _Vide_ Howard Pyle’s “Story of King
    Arthur and His Knights.” Scribner, $2.50.]

    The Boy’s Froissart. Scribner, $2.00.

    Knightly Tales of Wales; or, The Boy’s Mabinogion. Scribner, $2.00.

    The Boy’s Percy. [Full introduction and the ballads based on
    original.] Scribner, $2.00.

MABIE, H. W.--Norse Stories. Dodd, $1.80 net.

MACDONALD, GEORGE--At the Back of the North Wind. Routledge, $1.25;
    Burt, $1.00.

MULOCK-CRAIK, DINAH M.--The Fairy Book. Macmillan, $1.00.

    The Adventures of a Brownie. Harper, $0.60; Page, $0.50.

    The Little Lame Prince. Harper, $0.60.

MUSSET, PAUL DE--Mr. Wind and Madam Rain. Putnam, $2.00. [_Vide_ Petite
    Bibliothèque Blanche.]

PERRAULT, CHARLES--Fairy Tales. Macmillan, $0.40 net. [_Vide_ p. 36.]

PYLE, HOWARD--Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Scribner, $3.00. [An
    excellent version of the ballad has been issued by Stokes, ill.,
    Lucy Fitch Perkins.]

RUSKIN, JOHN--King of the Golden River. Ginn, $0.25; Page, $0.50.

SCUDDER, HORACE E. (COMPILER.)--Book of Legends. Houghton, $0.50.

STOCKTON, FRANK R.--The Queen’s Museum and Other Fanciful Tales.
    Scribner, $2.50. [_Vide_ former edition, “Clocks of Rondaine and
    other stories.” Scribner, $1.50.]

THACKERAY, W. M.--The Rose and the Ring. Putnam, $0.50, $1.00. [_Vide_
    other editions.]


POETRY AND VERSE

ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM--The Ballad Book. Macmillan, $1.00.

BLAKE, WILLIAM--Songs of Innocence. (Ill., Geraldine Morris.) Lane,
    $0.50 net.

BROWNING, ROBERT--The Pied Piper of Hamelin. (Ill., Kate Greenaway.)
    Warne, $1.50.

BURGESS, GELETT--Goops and How to be Them. (Several volumes.) Stokes,
    $1.50.

CARY, ALICE AND PHŒBE--Ballads for Little Folks. Houghton, $1.50.

CHILD, LYDIA MARIA--Flowers for Children; New Flowers for Children.
    [Out of print, but re-publication is strongly recommended by
    librarians.]

DODGE, MARY MAPES (ED.)--Baby Days. Century, $1.50.

ENGLISH AND SCOTTISH POPULAR BALLADS. (Ed., Sargent-Kittredge, from
    Francis James Child’s collection, Cambridge edition.) Houghton,
    $3.00.

FIELD, EUGENE--Poems of Childhood. (Ill., Maxfield Parrish.) Scribner,
    $2.50.

GOLDSMITH, OLIVER--The Deserted Village. (Ill., E. A. Abbey.) Harper,
    $3.00. [Abbey also illustrated “She Stoops to Conquer,” $5.00.]

HENLEY, W. E. (COMPILER)--Lyra Heroica: A Book of Verses for Boys.
    Scribner, $1.25.

HOLMES, OLIVER W.--Poems. (Complete ed., Cambridge.) Houghton, $2.00,
    $1.50. [_Vide_ “The One Hoss Shay,” ill., Howard Pyle, $1.50.]

JERROLD, WALTER (ED.)--The Big Book of Nursery Rhymes. Dutton, $3.00.

LAMB, CHARLES AND MARY--Poetry for Children. (Ill., Winifred Green;
    pref., I. Gollancz.) Dent, 2s. 6d. net. [_Vide_ in same edition
    “Mrs. Leicester’s School,” 5s. net.]

LANG, ANDREW (ED.)--The Blue Poetry Book. Longmans, $2.00.

LEAR, EDWARD--Nonsense Books. Little, Brown, $2.00. [_Vide_ also Warne
    edition.]

LONGFELLOW, HENRY W.--Poems. (Complete ed., Cambridge.) Houghton,
    $2.00. [_Vide_ also “Hiawatha,” ill., Remington, $4.00.]

LOWELL, JAMES R.--The Vision of Sir Launfal. Houghton, $1.50.

LUCAS, E. V. (ED.)--A Book of Verses for Children. Holt, $2.00. [There
    is a school edition.]

MACAULAY, T. B.--Lays of Ancient Rome. Longmans, $1.25. [_Vide_
    editions Houghton, Putnam.]

MATTHEWS, BRANDER--Poems of American Patriotism. Scribner, $1.50.
    [_Vide_ “English History Told by English Poets.” Ed., Bates and
    Coman. Macmillan, $0.60 net.]

MOTHER GOOSE NURSERY RHYMES (Ill., Tenniel, Crane, etc.)--Dutton,
    $1.50. [_Vide_ Nister ed., Routledge, etc.]

MOTHER GOOSE’S MELODIES--Houghton, $1.50.

NORTON, C. E. (ED.)--Heart of Oak Books. Heath, 7 vols., from $0.25 to
    $0.60. [Collection of Rhymes, Poems, Stories, etc.]

PALGRAVE, F. T.--The Children’s Treasury of English Song. Macmillan,
    $1.00.

PATMORE, COVENTRY (ED.)--Children’s Garland from the Best Poets.
    Macmillan, $1.00.

REPPLIER, AGNES (ED.)--Book of Famous Verse. Houghton, $0.75 and $1.25.

RILEY, JAMES WHITCOMB--Rhymes of Childhood. Bobbs-Merrill, $1.25.

ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA G.--Sing-Song. Macmillan, $1.50.

SCOTT, SIR WALTER--Marmion; The Lay of the Last Minstrel. (Ed., W. J.
    Rolfe.) Houghton, $0.75 each.

SHUTE, KATHARINE H. AND DUNTON, LARKIN (COMPILERS)--The Land of Song.
    Silver, 3 vols., $0.36 to $0.54.

STEVENSON, ROBERT L.--A Child’s Garden of Verses. Scribner. (Ill.,
    Robinson, $1.50; ill., Jessie W. Smith, $2.50.) [An excellent,
    inexpensive edition, Rand, McNally, $0.75.]

TAYLOR, JANE AND ANN--Little Ann and Other Poems. (Ill., Kate
    Greenaway). Warne, $1.00. [_Vide_ also edition, ed., E. V. Lucas.
    Stokes, $1.50. Including verses of Adelaide O’Keeffe; ill., F. D.
    Bedford. _Vide_ “Greedy Dick and Other Stories in Verse,” by the
    Taylors, $0.50.]

TENNYSON, ALFRED, LORD--Selected Poems for Young People. (Ed., W. J.
    Rolfe.) Houghton, $0.75. [Children should be made acquainted with
    parts of the “Idylls of the King.”]

WATTS, ISAAC--Childhood Songs of Long Ago. Wessels, $0.75. [_Vide_
    English editions.]

WELSH, CHARLES--Book of Nursery Rhymes. (Edited and graded.) Heath,
    $0.30. [In Home and School Classics.]

WIGGIN, K. D., AND SMITH, N. A. (EDS.)--Golden Numbers: A Book of
    Verse for Youth. McClure, $2.00 net.

    Posy Ring: A Book of Verse for Children. McClure, $1.25 net. [The
    same editors have gathered together a book of nursery rhymes.]


CLASSICS

CERVANTES, MIGUEL DE--Don Quixote of the Mancha. (Retold by Judge E. A.
    Parry; ill., Walter Crane.) Lane, $1.50.

CHAUCER, GEOFFREY--Canterbury Tales. (Retold by Percy MacKaye; ill., W.
    Appleton Clark.) Duffield, $2.50.

    Canterbury Chimes; or, Chaucer Tales Retold to Children. Storr,
    Frances and Turner, Hawes. Kegan, Paul, 3s. 6d.

    Chaucer for Children. Mrs. H. R. Haweis. Scribner, $1.25.

CHURCH, A. H.--Lords of the World. (Pictures from Roman Life and
    Story). Appleton, $1.50.

HERODOTUS--Wonder Stories from. Told by Boden, G. H., and D’Almeida, W.
    B. Harper, $2.50.

HOMER--Iliad. (Tr., W. C. Bryant.) Houghton, $1.00 to $9.00. [_Vide_
    also tr., Lang, Leaf, Myers.]

LAMB, CHARLES--The Adventures of Ulysses. Harper, $2.50. [_Vide_ also
    ed., E. V. Lucas, Putnam.]

ODYSSEUS, ADVENTURES OF--(Retold by Marvin, F. S., and others; ill.,
    Charles Robinson.) Dutton, $1.50. [_Vide_ also ed., G. H. Palmer
    and W. C. Perry.]

PLUTARCH--Lives. [Full ed.; also J. S. White’s “Boys’ and Girls’
    Plutarch.” Putnam, $1.75.]

SHAKESPEARE--Girlhood of Shakespeare’s Heroines. Mary Cowden Clarke.
    (Ill., Sir John Gilbert.) Scribner, $3.00.

    Tales from. Charles and Mary Lamb. Macmillan, $1.00. (Ed., Ainger.)
    [_Vide_ also ed., E. V. Lucas, Putnam; ed. ill., Norman M. Price,
    Scribner; ed. Nister. Quiller Couch has treated the historical
    tales in the same manner. Scribner.]

SWIFT, JONATHAN--Gulliver’s Travels. Macmillan, $1.25 net.

TOWRY, M. H.--Spenser for Children. Scribner, $1.25.


“HOW TO DO THINGS”--AMUSEMENTS

ALCOTT, L. M.--Little Women Play. (Adapted from the story by E. L.
    Gould.) Little, Brown, $0.50.

BEARD, DAN--The Field and Forest Handy Book. Scribner, $2.00.

    The Jack of All Trades. Scribner, $2.00.

    The American Boy’s Handy Book. Scribner, $2.00.

BEARD, L. AND A.--Things Worth Doing and How to Do Them. Scribner,
    $2.00.

    Handicraft and Recreation for Girls. Scribner. $2.00.

BLACK, ALEXANDER--Photography Indoors and Out. Houghton, $1.25.

BOYS, C. V.--Soap Bubbles and the Forces Which Made Them. Gorham, $0.75.

CUTTER, MRS. S. J. (COMPILER.)--Conundrums, Riddles, Puzzles, and
    Games. Hansauer.

GAMES BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. Dutton, $2.50. (_Vide_ Nister.)

KELLEY, L. E.--Three Hundred Things a Bright Girl Can Do. Estes, $1.75.

KING, G. G.--Comedies and Legends for Marionettes. Macmillan, $1.50.

LEWIS, A. J. (Prof. Hoffman.)--Magic at Home. Cassell, $1.25. [_Vide_
    also “Modern Magic.” Routledge, $1.50.]

LUCAS, E. V. AND ELIZABETH--What Shall We Do Now? Stokes, $2.00.

NEWELL, PETER--Topsys and Turvys. Century, $1.00 net.

SETON, ERNEST THOMPSON--The Wild Animal Play. Doubleday, $0.50.

SYRETT, NETTA--Six Fairy Plays for Children. Lane, $1.00 net.

WHITE, MARY--How to Make Baskets. Doubleday, $1.00 net. [The same
    author has written a second volume. Many workers prefer “Cane
    Basket Work.” Annie Firth. London: Gill; New York: Milton Bradley.]


MUSIC

In the preparation of this music bibliography, it is a rare privilege
to be able to include a list which was compiled by the late Miss Mary
L. Avery, of the music department of the Lenox Library, New York;
and which was used in a lecture delivered by her before the Pratt
Institute Library School on January 12, 1900. To this, the following
supplementary list, based upon recommendation, may be added. Prices
vary.

BRAINARD, H. L. (music), AND SAGE, BETTY (words)--Four Childhood
    Rhymes. Schirmer; The Boston Music Co.

COOLIDGE, ELIZABETH--Fifteen Mother Goose Melodies. Schirmer. (Music
    somewhat difficult.)

FISHER, WILLIAM ARMES--Posies from A Child’s Garden of Verses. Ditson.

GAYNOR, JESSIE L. (music), AND RILEY, C. (words)--Songs of the Child
    World. Nos. 1, 2. The John Church Co.

JENKS, HARRIET S., AND RUST, MABEL--Song Echoes from Child Land. Ditson.

JORDAN, JULES--A Life Lesson. (Words by Riley.) Schmidt.

MCLAUGHLIN, JAMES M., AND GILCHRIST, W. W.--Educational Music Course.
    Teachers’ Edition for Elementary Grades. Ginn.

MOTHER GOOSE SET TO MUSIC. (Elliott, J. W.) Novello. [An edition is
    published by Houghton, $1.50.]

RILEY, GAYNOR, BEALE--Songs for Children. John Church Co.

TAUBERT, WILHELM--Klänge aus der Kinderwelt. Schirmer.


In addition, such names as Eleanor Smith and Harvey Worthington
Loomis should not be omitted, as composers who recognise successfully
the requirements of children’s voices. These requirements cannot be
too often reiterated. In a letter to the author, the following was
underscored: “A child’s song must be written almost entirely in the
middle register of the voice--neither too high nor too low. Then
there must be a distinct melody for the child’s ear to catch readily.
And the words must interest the child’s mind.” In this last respect
music-teachers are most emphatic. They appeal for verses that stimulate
the imagination, they wish words carefully chosen; in the teaching,
they seek for purity of diction, for proper valuation of vowels,
consonants, and word-endings.


_Miss Avery’s Music List. Music in Children’s Libraries_

BREITKOPF EDITION CATALOGUE--Breitkopf and Hartel. New York.

MUSICAL, THE, INTERESTS [tastes] OF CHILDREN--Fanny B. Gates. West.
    Springfield, Mass., 1898. [Reprinted from the _Journal of
    Pedagogy_, October, 1898.]

NOVELLO’S SCHOOL MUSIC CATALOGUE (OPERETTAS, ETC.)--[Descriptive.]
    London.

SCRIBNER’S MUSICAL LITERATURE LIST--New York.


_Literature of Music_

LETTERS FROM GREAT MUSICIANS TO YOUNG PEOPLE--Alathea E. Crawford and
    Alice Chapin. New York, 1897.

MUSICIANS IN RHYME FOR CHILDHOOD’S TIME--Crawford and Sill. New York,
    Schirmer.

STORY OF MAJOR C AND HIS RELATIVES: LESSONS IN HARMONY--Grace S. Duff.
    New York, 1894.

STORY OF MUSIC AND MUSICIANS--Lucy C. Lillie. New York.

STORY OF THE RHINEGOLD--Chapin.

WAGNER STORY-BOOK--William Henry Frost. New York.


_Vocal Music_

BABY’S BOUQUET--(Old songs.) Ill., Walter Crane. Routledge.

BABY’S OPERA--(Old songs.) Ill., Walter Crane. Routledge; Warne.

BOOK OF RHYMES AND TUNES--Compiled by Margaret P. Osgood [from German
    and English]. Boston, 1880.

BOOK OF OLD RHYMES SET TO MUSIC--Walter Crane. Warne, $1.20.

CHILD’S GARDEN OF SONG--Arranged by Wm. L. Tomlins. Chicago, 1895.

CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES--12 Songs by Stevenson. Music by Mary
    Carmichael. London.

CHILD’S GARLAND OF SONGS [From a Child’s Garden of Verses.]--R. L.
    Stevenson. Music by C. Villiers Stanford. London, 1892.

CHILDREN’S SINGING GAMES--Eleanor Withey Willard. Grand Rapids, 1895.

CHILDREN’S SOUVENIR SONG BOOK--Arranged by Wm. L. Tomlins. New York,
    1893.

CHRISTMAS (A) DREAM--School Operetta--Moffat. London, Novello.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS ANCIENT AND MODERN--Wm. L. Tomlins. New York, 1897.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS NEW AND OLD--Bramley and Sir John Stainer. Novello;
    Routledge.

GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG--(English folk songs.) Arranged by S. Baring
    Gould and H. F. Sheppard. London, 1895.

KINDERGARTEN CHIMES--Kate Douglas Wiggin. Boston (cop.), 1887.

KINDERLIEDER--Von Carl Reinecke. Leipzig; New York, Schirmer.

KINDER- UND JUGEND-LIEDER (50)--Von Hoffman, V. Stuttgart.

KINDERLIEDER (24)--Gustav Fischer. New York.

KINDERLIEDER-ALBUM--Amalie Felsenthal. Leipzig.

MAY-DAY REVELS (Operetta, Old English style.)--Hawkins and West. London.

MUSIK-BEILAGE ZU KINDERFEST--J. Fischer. Berlin, Bloch.

NATIONAL, PATRIOTIC, AND TYPICAL AIRS OF ALL LANDS, with Copious
    Notes--John Philip Sousa. Philadelphia, 1890.

OLD MAY DAY (Operetta.)--Shapcott Wensley and F. C. Wood. London.

OLDE ENGLYSHE PASTIMES--F. W. Galpin. (Dances and sports, old music.)
    London.

SINGING (A) QUADRILLE, SET TO NURSERY RHYMES, for Pianoforte and
    Voices--Cotsford Dick.

SINGING VERSES FOR CHILDREN--Lydia Coonley and others. New York, 1897.

SMALL SONGS FOR SMALL SINGERS--W. H. Neidlinger. (Coloured ill.,
    Bobbett.) New York, Schirmer.

ST. NICHOLAS OPERETTAS. Century.

ST. NICHOLAS SONGS. Century.

SONGS OF CHILDHOOD--Eugene Field. Music by Reginald de Koven and
    others. New York, 1896.

STEVENSON SONG BOOK--Music by various composers. New York, 1897.

THREE OPERETTAS (THREE LITTLE KITTENS; SEVEN OLD LADIES OF LAVENDER
    TOWN; BOBBY SHAFTOE)--H. C. Bunner and Oscar Weil. New York, 1897.


_Instrumental Music_

HAYDN’S KINDER-SYMPHONIE--For Piano and Violin and Toy Instruments.

OUR FAVORITES (UNSERE LIEBLINGE). [Piano gems arranged by Carl
    Reinecke.] New York, Breitkopf and Hartel.

SCHUMANN, ROBERT--Album for Young Pianists. Op. 68.

    Kinderball. (Dances, four hands, for Piano.) Op. 130.

    Kinderscenen. (Piano.) Op. 15.


SCIENCE AND INVENTION

BAKER, RAY STANNARD--Boy’s Book of Inventions. McClure, $2.00. [There
    is a second volume, $1.60.]

BALL, SIR ROBERT STAWELL--Starland. Ginn, $1.00.

DARWIN, CHARLES R.--What Mr. Darwin Saw in His Voyage Round the World
    in the Ship “Beagle.” Harper, $3.00.

ILES, GEORGE--Flame, Electricity, and the Camera. Doubleday, $2.00 net.

MEADOWCROFT, W. H.--A B C of Electricity. Empire Publishing Co., $0.50.

NEWCOMB, SIMON--Astronomy for Everybody. McClure, $2.00 net.

SANTOS-DUMONT, ALBERTO--My Air-Ships. Century, $1.40 net.

SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY: OR, THE CAMP AT WILLOW CLUMP ISLAND--A.
    Russell Bond. Munn and Co., $2.00.

SERVISS, GARRETT P.--Astronomy with an Opera-Glass. Appleton, $1.50.
    [This book has been challenged.]

SLOANE, T. O’C.--Electric Toy-making.--Henley, $1.00. (_Vide_ also St.
    John, T. M.--Three books on electricity. Scribner.)


TRAVEL

BOYESEN, H. H.--Boyhood in Norway. Scribner, $1.25.

    The Modern Vikings. Scribner, $1.25.

BRASSEY, LADY A. (A.)--Around the World in the Yacht “Sunbeam.” Holt,
    $2.00; Longmans (condensed), $0.75; Burt.

DU CHAILLU, P. B.--The Land of the Long Night. Scribner, $2.00.

    Land of the Midnight Sun. Harper, 2 vols., $5.00.

JANVIER, THOMAS A.--The Aztec Treasure House. (Narrative.) Harper,
    $1.50.

JENKS, TUDOR--Boys’ Book of Explorations. Doubleday, $2.00.

KENNAN, GEORGE--Tent Life in Siberia. Putnam, $0.50 to $1.25.

KNOX, THOMAS W.--Boy Travellers in Russia. Harper, $2.00.

    Boy Travellers in South America. Harper. $2.00. [In these volumes
    there is a large amount of information which would have been more
    graphic, relieved of the artificial conversational style.]

LUMMIS, CHARLES F.--Some Strange Corners of Our Country. Century, $1.50.

NANSEN, FRIDTJOF--Farthest North: Record of a Voyage of the Ship
    “Fram.” Harper, 2 vols., $4.00.

PEARY, MRS. J. D. AND M. A.--Children of the Arctic. Stokes, $1.20 net.

    Snow Baby. Stokes, $1.20 net.

SLOCUM, JOSHUA--Sailing Alone Around the World in the Sloop “Spray.”
    Whole edition, Century, $2.00; school edition, Scribner, $0.50.

STANLEY, HENRY M.--In Darkest Africa. Scribner, 2 vols., $7.50. [_Vide_
    also “My Dark Companions, and Their Strange Stories.” Scribner,
    $2.00.]

TAYLOR, BAYARD--Boys of Other Countries. Putnam, $1.25.


FRENCH

“The collection of books which we call ‘Bibliothèque Rose’ (the paper
bound edition has a pink cover; perhaps that is the reason why we call
it Bibliothèque Rose) includes the most charming stories a child can
wish for, especially those of Mme. de Ségur’s and Zénaïde Fleuriot’s.
In this collection as well as in the Bibliothèque des Petits Enfants,
and in the large illustrated albums, much will be found of interest to
children of from six to ten years.

“For older boys and girls (10–15), I would recommend Bibliothèque des
Mères de Famille. At the present time the only thing I remember about
this collection is that there were in it a number of books translated
from the German by Emmeline Raymond, and which used to give me much
pleasure.

“As far as I can judge, girls and boys of this age enjoy Jules Verne,*
Charles Wagner, H. Gréville, H. Malot, E. About, Erckmann-Chatrian,*
Anatole France, Daudet, and La Fontaine, the two I have starred being
special favourites with boys. Of course, I would not recommend for
children everything by these authors. I have suggested many books in
the Bibliothèque Rose; there are other writers in that collection,
such, for example, as Mme. Cazin, Mlle. J. Gouraud, Maistre,
Mayne-Reid, Mme. Pape-Carpantier, Mme. de Stolz, and Mme. de Witt,--all
of whom have done some excellent juvenile work. But a parent should not
be satisfied with a recommendation; personal judgment is the surest
test.

“Regarding poetry, there are many short pieces by Mme. Tastu, well
adapted for very young children. In the anthologies which are published
you are most likely to find such pieces as Victor Hugo’s ‘L’enfant,’
‘Pour les pauvres,’ ‘Après la bataille’; Lamartine’s ‘L’automne,’
‘Milly’; extracts from Corneille and Racine; and Chateaubriand’s
well-known ‘Combien j’ai douce souvenance.’ Then there are a number
of Coppée’s poems; Bérenger’s ‘Les souvenirs du peuple,’ and ‘A mon
habit’; André Chénier’s ‘La jeune Captive’; Hégésippe Moreau’s ‘La
Voulzie’; Brizeux’s ‘La pauvre fille’; Theuriet’s ‘La Chanson du
Vannier’; and poems of Mme. Desborde-Valmore. This will give some idea
of how rich the field of poetry is, which, with La Fontaine alone,
would supply children with untold enjoyment.

“The educational value in most of the books which I have suggested
consists chiefly in the attractive manner in which they are written;
there is no ‘leçon de morale’ in disguise in the style, yet such books
are more than well-written stories. Children read Mme. de Ségur’s books
with much more pleasure than they do the old-fashioned Berquin’s,
which are ‘ennuyeux.’ Such stories as Mme. de Ségur writes make a deep
impression, since they teach agreeably to love the qualities which we
grown-ups wish to see in children, and to dislike those faults which we
would blame in them, even if, sometimes, the naughty child in the story
_is_ made attractive.

“You will see, we have no special books of animal stories, such as you
publish in England and in America--unless you consider, of course,
La Fontaine’s fables, which do not give any practical knowledge of
animal life. Books which appeal to the heart, or to the imagination,
are very popular with French children, who are naturally sensitive and
imaginative; but, after all, is it not so with every child, French or
English or American?

“It has been my experience that American children (the very young
ones), if they were able to read the French books French children
of the same age read, enjoyed them quite as much. The difference in
national temperament develops later on. The American boy or girl grows
up more rapidly than the French boy or girl; acquires the practical
sense sooner; has a more real view of life. Perhaps this is due
largely to the fact that the French child has little independence, and
hence is unpractical. But there is a compensation somewhere, for the
French child’s mind is subtler, and his imagination more vivid. I do
not think we have any library system at present where children’s work
is a specialty; in fact, our public libraries are mostly frequented by
grown-up people. I have never seen children, as far as I can recollect,
in any of our libraries.”--MLLE. EMILIE MICHEL, in a letter to the
author.

Both Brentano and Dryrsen & Pfeiffer (successors to Christern), as
well as W. R. Jenkins Co., New York, issue complete catalogues, French
and German, in which illustrated books, magazines, and series of
special volumes are suggested. They differ so markedly in prices, that
no uniformity can be reached. But except in the case of illustrated
albums, it may be claimed, generally, that the prices are reasonable.

ABOUT, EDMOND--Le Roi des Montagnes.

    L’Homme à l’oreille Cassée.

CARRAUD, MME.--La petite Jeanne. Bibliothèque Rose.

DAUDET, ALPHONSE--Tartarin de Tarascon.

    Tartarin sur les Alpes.

    Lettres de Mon Moulin. (Contes.)

    Le Petit Chose.

DEFOE--La Vie et les Aventures de Robinson Crusoé. Bibliothèque
    Rose. [_Vide_ also in Bibl. des petits enfants, with “Gulliver’s
    Travels.”]

DOMBRE, ROGER--Tante Rabat Joie.

ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN--Le conscrit de 1813.

    L’Ami Fritz.

FLEURIOT, MLLE. Z.--Le petit chef de famille. Bibliothèque Rose.

FLORIAN--Fables Illustrées par Vimar. Brentano, $2.70.

FRANCE, ANATOLE--Le Crime de Sylvestre Bonnard. [Crowned by the French
    Academy.]

    Le Livre de Mon Ami. [For adults.]

GENLIS, MADAME DE--Bibliothèque Rose. Contes Moraux. _Vide_ p. 66.

GRÉVILLE, HENRY (pseud. of Mme. Alice Durant)--Perdue. [_Vide_ entire
    list.]

GRIMM--Contes Choisis. Bibliothèque Rose.

JOB--Le grand Napoléon des Petits Enfants. (Ill. coloured.) Brentano,
    $3.00.

LA FONTAINE--_Vide_ Boutet de Monvel. Picture-Book section.

LA MOTTE-FOUQUE, BARON DE.--Undine and Sintram. [_Vide_ English
    version. Houghton.]

MALOT, HECTOR--En famille.

    Sans famille.

PERRAULT, CHARLES; MMES. D’AULNOY ET LE PRINCE DE BEAUMONT--Contes de
    Fées. Bibliothèque Rose. [_Vide_ also Petite Bibliothèque Blanche,
    et ed. Perrault, ill. by many artists. Brentano, $2.70. _Vide_ p.
    36.]

PRESSENSÉ, MME. E. DE--La Maison Blanche et Histoire pour les écoliers.
    Bibliothèque Rose. [_Vide_ also Bibl. des Petits Enfants.]

SANDEAU, JULES--La Maison de Penarvan.

SÉGUR, MME. DE--L’Auberge de l’Ange-Gardien. Bibliothèque Rose.

    Un Bon Petit Diable.

    Le Général Dourakine.

    Mémoires d’un Ane.

    Les Bons Enfants.

VERNE, JULES--Les Enfants du Capitaine Grant.

    Cinq Semaines en Ballon.

    Vingt Mille Lieues sous les Mers.

    Le Tour du Monde en 80 Jours.

    [All in the Bibliothèque Rose.]

WAGNER, CHARLES--Jeunesse.

    Vaillance.


GERMAN

In the preparation of the following German list, the author begs
to acknowledge in a general way his indebtedness to many sources.
An authority on the subject is Wolgast, who is the author of “Vom
Kinderbuch” (Leipzig, Teubner). One of the committee recommends the
inclusion of all the stories by Johanna Spyri; another emphasises the
importance of the work done by Ottilie Wildermuth, and appends the
following interesting account in a letter: “‘She was the wife of a
professor in Tübingen, Swabia, and was born in 1817. She died in 1877.
Long before she thought of writing for publication, she charmed a wide
circle of friends and acquaintances with her talent for narrating the
simple events, memories, and experiences of Swabian life. Most of her
works must be considered, not as mere fiction, but as true pictures
of the culture of that time, and as such will be of permanent value.’
The same may be said of her children’s books, although these are more
fanciful and varied in their subject-matter, and appeal strongly to the
imagination.”

The Germans illustrate their A-B-C Bücher, their Nursery Rhymes, their
Bilderbücher, and their Erzählungen in the most attractive fashion.
Reference is particularly made to Herr Richter. Fairy Tales are read
extensively by German children--and also by adults. Grimm, Hauff,
Musäus, are about the best. Schmitt’s Geschichten u. Erzählungen (of
which there are perhaps from one to two hundred volumes) are excellent
for boys and girls between ten and fifteen years. The Germans have
paid such special attention to the selection and grading of juvenile
literature, that their library lists are recommended to readers. The
volumes here mentioned are not presented with any intention of making
them definitive. Brentano will send, on application, “Verzeichnis einer
Auswahl Vorzüglicher Bücher--Miniatur-Katalog.--Stilke, Berlin.”

The reader is further referred to “Verzeichnis empfehlenswerter
Jugendlektüre. Herausgegeben vom Wiener Volksbildungs-Verein, 1904.”

ÄSOP--Fabeln. Mit 6 Buntbildern. Löwe.

AUS DEM LEBEN DER ZWERGE--Humorist. Bilderbuch.

BILDERBÜCHER. (Löwensohn.)

    Der D-Zug Kommt. Eisenbahnbilderb. auf Papyrolin; auf Papier.

    Für unsere A B C-Schützen.

    Grimms Märchen.

    Hänsel und Gretel.

    Heerschau üb. d. Kriegsvölker Europas.

    Hertwig, R., Eduard und Ferdinand. [_Vide_ Catalogues.]

BILDERBÜCHER. (Scholz.)

  LIEBE MÄRCHEN.

    Dornröschen; Marienkind.

    Aschenputtel; Rotkäppchen.

    Hänsel und Gretel; Schneewittchen.

HEY-SPECKTER, W.--Fünfzig Fabeln f. Kinder. Jub.-Ausg.

    Noch fünfzig Fabeln für Kinder. Jub.-Ausg.

    Fabeln. 2 Bde. Schul-Ausgabe; 2 Bde. Feine Ausgabe.

THUMANN, P.--Für Mutter und Kind. Alte Reime mit neuen Bildern.

WIEDEMANN, F.--Hundert Geschichten für eine Mutter und ihre Kinder.

WILDERMUTH, O.--Aus der Kinderwelt.

       *       *       *       *       *

ANDERS, H.--Gesammelte Märchen von Rübezahl.

ANDERSEN, H. C.--Sämtl. Märchen. Pr.-A. (Abel & Müller); V.-Ausg. (Abel
    & Müller); Pr.-Ausg. (Wartig).

    Märchen. (Hendel); Löwe; Billige Ausgabe. (Weise.)

    Ausgewählte Märchen. (Abel & Müller); Hrsg. v. Hamb.
    Jugendschr.-Ausschuss.

ARNDT, P.--Es war einmal. Märchen, Sagen u. Schwänke.

    Im Märchenwalde.

    Für brave Knaben.

    Rübezahl. (Löwe); V.-Aug, (Löwe).

BECHSTEIN, L.--Märchenbuch. (Hendel).

BEEG, M.--Schulmädelgeschichten.

BEETZ, K. O.--Urd.; Deutsche Volksmärchen.

BLÜTHGEN, V.--Hesperiden. Märchen für jung und alt. Vollst. Ausg.

    Lebensfrühling. Vier Erzählungen für Mädchen.

    Der Märchenquell.

    Der Weg zum Glück. Fünf Erzähl. f. Knaben.

CAMPE, J. H.--Robinson Krusoe von J. Hoffmann.

EMMY, TANTE--Märchen für grosse und kleine Kinder.

GRIMM, J. U. W.--Sämtl. Kinder-u. Hausmärchen. Mit Bildern v. L.
    Richter usw.

GUMPERT, TH. V.--Herzblättchens Zeitvertreib.

HAUFF, W.--Märchen. Ausw. f. d. Jugend. (Löwe).

HOFFMANN, FRZ.--Ausgew. Erzählungen. Bd. 1, 2, 3.

    Das bunte Buch. Neue 150 moral. Erzählungen.

    150 moralische Erzählungen.

    Die Grossmutter.

    Neuer deutscher Jugendfreund.

    Märchen und Fabeln.

MÜLLER, K. A.--Rübezahl, der Herr des Riesengebirges.

MUSÄUS, J. K. A.--Märchen. Von K. A. Müller.

NIBELUNGENLIED--Für die Jugend, von A. Bacmeister.

OTTO, H.--Ilias, für die Jugend.

    Nibelunge, für die Jugend. 2 Bdchn.

    Sagen und Märchen für Achtjährige.

REICHENBACH--Buch der Tierwelt. Erzähl. u. Schildergn. a. d. Leben der
    Tiere. 2 Bde.

ROSEGGER, P.--Als ich noch der Waldbauernbub war. 3 Teile.

    Waldferien.

SCHANZ, FR.--Heidefriedel.

    Das Komtesschen und andere Erzählungen.

    Rottraut u. Ilse.

    Schulkindergeschichten.

    Bunter Strauss. Märchen u. Erzählungen.

    Unter der Tanne.

SCHANZ, P.--In der Pension u. anderes.

SCHOTT, CL.--Im Feenreich. Mit Bildern.

STEIN, A.--Mariens Tagebuch.

    52 Sonntage.

    Tagebuch dreier Kinder.

VILLAMARIA.--Elfenreigen. Nordische Märchen.

WILDERMUTH, O.--Aus Nord und Süd.

    Aus Schloss und Hütte.

    Jugendschriften. V.-A.; Inhalt s. Abt. Schriften für die reifere
    weibl. Jugend.

    Kindergruss.

       *       *       *       *       *

CERVANTES--Don Quichote. Für d. Jugend v. Frz. Hoffmann; für Schule und
    Haus bearbeitet von Höller. (Schaffstein). Illustriert; Für die
    Jugend von P. Moritz. V.-Ausg.; (Weise).

COOPER, J. F.--Conanchet. Von Frz. Hoffmann.

    Der rote Freibeuter. Von P. O. Höcker. (Löwe).

    Lederstrumpf-Erzählgn. F. d. Jugend v. Kl. Bernhard; Für die Jugend
    v. O. Höcker. (Löwe); v. Frz. Hoffmann; v. Fr. Meister. Pr.-A.;
    Einzeln: Der Wildtöter; Der letzte der Mohikaner; Der Pfadfinder;
    Lederstrumpf; Der alte Trapper; v. P. Moritz. Gesamt-Ausg.;
    Einzeln: Der letzte Mohikaner; Der Pfadfinder; Lederstrumpf od. die
    Ansiedler; Der Wildsteller od. die Prärie; Der Wildtöter.

    Die Prärie. Für die Jugend. (Weise.)

    Der Spion. Für die Jugend von E. Benseler.

DAHN, F. U. TH.--Walhall. Germanische Götter-u. Heldensagen. Ausgabe
    mit Bildern.

HAUFF, W.--Lichtenstein. Für die Jugend. (Weise.)

LILIENCRON, D. V.--Gedichte. Auswahl für die Jugend.

       *       *       *       *       *

EBNER-ESCHENBACH, M. V.--Die arme Kleine.

GUMPERT, TH. V.--Töchter-Album.

HARTNER, E. (E. E. H. v. Twardowska.)--Pension und Elternhaus.

HEINZ, T. V. (Henny von Tempelhoff.)--Goldköpfchen.

Pension Velden.

Tante Sybille.

  HELDERN, T. (Toni Lindner.)--Die Backfischpension.

  RHODEN, E. V. (Emma Friedrich-Friedrich.)--Der Trotzkopf. Mit
  Bildern; Billige Ausgabe.

    Trotzkopfs Brautzeit. Mit Bildern; Billige Ausgabe.

    (Wildhagen), Aus Trotzkopfs Ehe. Mit Bildern; Billige Ausgabe.

    (S. la Chapelle-Roobol), Trotzkopf als Grossmutter.

    Der Trotzkopf. 3 Bde. Feine Ausg. in hell. Damastlnw. geb., in
    eleg. Hülse.

ROSEGGER, P.--Ernst u. heiter. Volksausg. f. Österreich.

SCHMIDT, H.--In Backfischchens Kaffeekränzchen.

WILDERMUTH, O.--Jugendschriften. Volks-Ausg. 22 Bde.

    1. Ein einsam Kind. Die Wasser im Jahre 1824; 2. Drei
    Schulkameraden. Der Spiegel der Zwerglein; 3. Eine seltsame Schule.
    Bärbeles Weihnachten; 4. Eine Königin. Der Kinder Gebet; 5. Spätes
    Glück. Die drei Schwestern vom Walde; 6. Die Ferien auf Schloss
    Bärensprung. Der Sandbub oder Wer hat’s am besten?; 7. Cherubino
    u. Zephirine. Kann sein, ’s ist auch so recht; 8. Brüderchen
    und Schwesterchen. Der Einsiedler im Walde; 9. Der Peterli von
    Emmenthal. Zwei Märchen für die Kleinsten; 10. Krieg und Frieden.
    Emmas Pilgerfahrt; 11. Das braune Lenchen. Des Königs Patenkind;
    12. Nach Regen Sonnenschein. Frau Luna. Das Bäumlein im Walde; 13.
    Die Nachbarskinder. Kordulas erste Reise. Balthasars Apfelbäume;
    14. Die wunderbare Höhle. Das Steinkreuz. Unsere alte Marie; 15.
    Der kluge Bruno. Eine alte Schuld. Heb’ auf, was Gott dir vor
    die Türe legt; 16. Elisabeth. Die drei Christbäume. Klärchens
    Genesung. Das Feental; 17. Vom armen Unstern; 18. Es ging ein Engel
    durch das Haus. Des Herrn Pfarrers Kuh. Die erste Seefahrt; 19.
    Schwarze Treue; 20. Das Osterlied. Die Kinder der Heide; 21. Hinauf
    und Hinab; 22. Der rote Hof.


NATURE

ARNOLD, A. F.--The Sea-Beach at Ebb-Tide. Century, $2.40 net.

BOSTOCK, F. C.--The Training of Wild Animals. Century, $1.00 net.

BURROUGHS, JOHN--Squirrels and Other Fur-Bearers. (Ill. after Audubon.)
    Houghton, $1.00.

    Wake Robin. Houghton, $1.00 net.

CHAPMAN, FRANK R.--Bird-Life: A Guide to the Study of Our Common Birds.
    (Ill., Seton.) Appleton, $2.00.

DOUBLEDAY, MRS. F. N. (pseud., Neltje Blanchan)--Bird Neighbors.
    Doubleday, $2.00. [American and local. _Vide_ same author’s “Birds
    that Hunt and Are Hunted,” $2.00.]

    Nature’s Garden. Doubleday, $3.00 net.

DUGMORE, A. RADCLYFFE--Nature and the Camera. Doubleday, $1.35 net.

GIBSON, W. H.--Blossom Hosts and Insect Guests. Newson, $0.80.

    Eye Spy. Harper, $2.50.

    Sharp Eyes. Harper, $2.50.

HOLLAND, W. J.--Butterfly Book. Doubleday, $3.00 net. [_Vide_ same
    author’s “Moth Book,” $4.00 net.]

HORNADAY, WILLIAM T.--American Natural History. Scribner, $3.50 net.
    [_Vide_ same author’s “Two Years in a Jungle,” $2.50.]

KEELER, HARRIET L.--Our Native Trees and How to Identify Them.
    Scribner, $2.00 net. [_Vide_ also the “Tree Book.” Julia E. Rogers.
    Doubleday, $4.00 net.]

MILLER, OLIVE THORNE--The First Book of Birds. Houghton, $1.00. [There
    is a second book.]

MORLEY, MARGARET W.--The Bee People. McClurg, $1.25.

PARSONS, FRANCES THEODORA (formerly Mrs. Dana)--How to Know Wild
    Flowers. Scribner, $2.00 net. [_Vide_ also same author’s “According
    to the Seasons.” Scribner, $1.75 net.]

SETON, ERNEST THOMPSON--Biography of a Grizzly. Century, $1.50.

    Wild Animals I have Known. Scribner, $2.00. [_Vide_ also same
    author’s “Lives of the Hunted.”]

SHALER, NATHANIEL S.--Story of the Continent. Ginn, $0.75.

    First Book in Geology. Heath, $0.60.

SHARP, DALLAS L.--Wild Life Near Home. Century, $2.00. [_Vide_ also
    same author’s “A Watcher in the Woods.” Century, $0.84.]

THOREAU, HENRY D.--Walden. Houghton, $1.50 to $3.00.

TORREY, BRADFORD--Every-day Birds. (Ill. after Thoreau.) Houghton,
    $1.00.

WRIGHT, MABEL OSGOOD--Citizen Bird. Macmillan, $1.50 net.


BIOGRAPHY

ABBOTT, J. S. C.--Daniel Boone, and the Early Settlement of Kentucky.
    Dodd, $0.75.

    David Crockett and Early Texan History. Dodd, $0.75.

    Kit Carson, the Pioneer of the Far West. Dodd, $0.75.

ALCOTT, LOUISA MAY--Life, Letters, and Journals. (Ed., E. D. Cheney.)
    Little, Brown, $1.50.

BARNES, JAMES--Midshipman Farragut. Appleton, $1.00.

BOLTON, MRS. S. K.--Poor Boys Who Became Famous. Crowell, $1.50. [This
    author has written many books of a similar character for boys and
    girls.]

BROOKS, E. S.--Historic Boys. Putnam, $1.25.

    Historic Girls. Putnam, $1.25. [Same author wrote “Historic Dwarfs”
    for _St. Nicholas Magazine_. His facts have been challenged.]

    Chivalric Days. Putnam, $1.25.

BUTTERWORTH, HEZEKIAH--The Boys of Greenway Court. [The Early Days of
    Washington. Many librarians would challenge this.] Appleton, $1.50.

FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN--Autobiography. Houghton, $0.75.

GARLAND, HAMLIN--Ulysses S. Grant. McClure, $2.50.

JOAN OF ARC--_Vide_ Boutet de Monvel. [Picture-book section.]

KELLER, HELEN--The Story of My Life. Doubleday, $1.50 net.

LEE, ROBERT E.--_Vide_ Beacon Biographies. Trent, W. P. [The Lives of
    Lee, J. E. B. Stuart, and Stonewall Jackson have yet to be treated
    satisfactorily for young people.]

NICOLAY, HELEN--Boys’ Life of Lincoln. Century, $1.50.

OBER, FREDERICK A.--Columbus; Pizarro; DeSoto. Harper, $1.00 net each.
    [This author’s style is picturesque.]

RIIS, JACOB A.--The Making of an American: An Autobiography. Macmillan,
    $1.50 net.

SCUDDER, HORACE E.--George Washington. Houghton, $0.75. [_Vide_ also E.
    E. Hale’s “Life of Washington.” Putnam, $1.75.]

SEAWELL, M. E.--Decatur and Somers. Appleton, $1.00.

    Twelve Naval Captains. Scribner, $1.25.

    Paul Jones. Appleton, $1.00.

SEELYE, ELIZABETH E.--The Story of Columbus. Appleton, $1.75.

SOUTHEY, ROBERT--Life of Nelson. [_Vide_ ed., Macmillan, Warne,
    Crowell, Dutton, Lothrop, etc.]

WISTER, OWEN--U. S. Grant. (Beacon Biography.) Small, $0.75 net. [This
    is the same series as referred to under Lee, in which Norman
    Hapgood has written on Daniel Webster.]


HISTORY

ALTON, E. (pseud, of Edmund Bailey)--Among the Law Makers. Scribner,
    $1.50.

BARNES, JAMES--Yankee Ships and Yankee Sailors. Macmillan, $1.50.

CALLCOTT, M. (D.)--Little Arthur’s History of England. Crowell, $0.60.

    Little Arthur’s History of France. Crowell, $0.60. [Both volumes
    have a certain value in the history of children’s books.]

COFFIN, C. C.--Boys of ’76. Harper, $2.00. [Same author wrote “Boys of
    ’61.” Estes, $2.00.]

CREASY, E. S.--Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World. Harper, $1.00.

DICKENS, CHARLES--Child’s History of England. Houghton, $1.00 to $2.50.

DOLE, C. F.--The Young Citizen. Heath, $0.45.

EGGLESTON, E. and SEELYE (MRS.), E. E.--Brant and Red Jacket. Dodd,
    $0.75.

FISKE, JOHN--He has written a United States History. (Houghton.) His
    larger contributions on periods are so excellent in their narrative
    style as to recommend themselves for young readers of high-school
    age. [_Vide_ also Edward Eggleston’s “Household History of the
    United States.” Appleton, $2.50.]

GRIFFIS, W. E.--Brave Little Holland and What She Taught Us. Houghton,
    $1.25.

GREENWOOD, GRACE--Merrie England; Bonnie Scotland. [Out of print,
    but re-publication strongly advised by librarians. Miss Burnite,
    of the Cleveland Public Library, recently edited the “Ballads
    Retold.” Ginn, $0.50.]

    Stories and Legends; Stories and Sights of France and Italy. [Also
    out of print.]

HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL--Grandfather’s Chair. Containing also Biographical
    Stories. Houghton, $1.25.

JENKS, TUDOR--Our Army for Our Boys. (Ill. Ogden.) Moffat, Yard, $2.00
    net. [Mr. Jenks is also the author of the lives of John Smith and
    Miles Standish (Century); of a series of historical and social
    studies for children, the first volume called “When America Was
    New” (Crowell.); and of another series, Lives of Great Writers
    (Barnes.).]

KIEFFER, H. M.--Recollections of a Drummer Boy. (A Civil War
    biographical story.) Houghton, $1.50.

MARSHALL, HELEN--An Island Story. [A history of England, written by an
    Australian. The book is in sumptuous _format_.] Stokes, $2.50 net.

MCDOUGALL, ISABEL--Little Royalties. Revell, $1.25.

PARKMAN, FRANCIS--The Oregon Trail. (Ill., Remington.) Little, Brown,
    $4.00; $2.00.

    The Conspiracy of Pontiac. (2 vols.) Little, Brown, $3.00.

ROOSEVELT, THEODORE, AND LODGE, HENRY CABOT--Hero Tales from American
    History. Century, $1.50.

SCOTT, SIR WALTER--Tales of a Grandfather. Macmillan, $2.00.

STOCKTON, FRANK R.--Buccaneers and Pirates of our Coast. Macmillan,
    $1.50.

TARBELL, IDA M.--He Knew Lincoln. McClure, $0.50 net.

YONGE, CHARLOTTE M.--Young Folk’s History of England. Lothrop, $1.50.
    [_Vide_ Miss Yonge’s “Book of Golden Deeds.” Macmillan, $1.00.]


HISTORICAL STORIES

AGUILAR, GRACE--The Days of Bruce. Appleton, $1.00. [She also wrote “A
    Mother’s Recompense” and “Home Influence.”]

ANDREWS, MARY RAYMOND SHIPMAN--The Perfect Tribute. (A Story of
    Lincoln.) Scribner, $0.50.

BARNES, JAMES--For King or Country. Harper, $1.50.

BENNETT, JOHN--Master Skylark. (A Story of Shakespeare’s Time.)
    Century, $1.50.

    Barnaby Lee. Century, $1.50.

BULWER-LYTTON, EDWARD--Harold, the Last of the Saxons. (2 vols.)
    Little, Brown, $1.25 each.

    Last Days of Pompeii. Little, Brown, $1.25.

    Last of the Barons. (A Story of the Earl of Warwick.) [2 vols.]
    Little, Brown, $1.25 each.

DAVIS, M. E. M.--In War Times at La Rose Blanche. Lothrop, $1.25.

DOYLE, A. CONAN--White Company. (A 14th-century story.) Harper, $1.75.

    Micah Clarke. (A 17th-century story.) Harper, $1.75.

EGGLESTON, GEORGE CARY--Signal Boys. Putnam, $1.25.

    Southern Soldier Stories. Macmillan, $1.50.

    Strange Stories from History. Harper, $0.60.

HALE, EDWARD E.--A Man Without a Country. Little, Brown, $0.50 to $1.25.

HENTY, G. A.--Lion of the North. (A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus.)
    Scribner, $1.50.

    St. George for England. (A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers.) Scribner,
    $1.50.

    With Clive in India. Scribner, $1 .50.

    With Wolfe in Canada. Scribner, $1.50. [When one is read, the
    formula for all is discovered.]

KEARY, ANNIE--A York and Lancaster Rose. Macmillan, $1.00.

KINGSLEY, CHARLES--Westward Ho! Macmillan, $0.50 to $2.00. [This book,
    a tale of the 16th century, was recently debarred from one of the
    library centres in England.]

KNAPP, ADELINE--The Boy and the Baron. (Germany of feudal times.)
    Century, $1.00.

MARSHALL, BEATRICE--The Siege of York. (In the days of Thomas, Lord
    Fairfax.) Dutton, $1.50. [For older girls.]

MATTHEWS, BRANDER--Tom Paulding. (A story of New York and a treasure.)
    Century, $1.50.

PAGE, THOMAS NELSON--Two Little Confederates. Scribner, $1.50.

    Among the Camps. Scribner, $1.50.

PORTER, JANE--The Scottish Chiefs. Dutton, $2.50. (Ill., T. H.
    Robinson. A Story of William Wallace. Miss Aguilar’s book, “In the
    Days of Bruce,” is considered a sequel.)

    Thaddeus of Warsaw. [Various editions: Coates, Burt, Routledge,
    Warne.]

PYLE, HOWARD--Men of Iron. (A 14th-century story.) Harper, $2.00.

SCOTT, SIR WALTER--Ivanhoe. Macmillan, $1.25.

    The Talisman. Macmillan, $1.25.

    Quentin Durward. Macmillan, $1.25.

    Rob Roy. Macmillan, $1.25. [As an introduction, these should lead
    the way to others.]

SEAWELL, M. E.--Little Jarvis. Appleton, $1.00.

STOWE, HARRIET B.--Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Houghton, $1.00. (Ill., Kemble,
    $4.00.) [This is reluctantly included; many are strongly in favor
    of keeping from children such partisan writing; the cause for
    sectional feeling has been removed to an extent.]

TOMLINSON, E. T.--Boy Officers of 1812. Lothrop, Lee, $1.25.

    Search for Andrew Field. Lothrop, Lee, $1.25.

TWAIN, MARK (pseud, of Samuel L. Clemens)--The Prince and the Pauper.
    (16th century.) Harper, $1.75.

WALLACE, LEW--Ben Hur. (A Tale of the Christ.) Harper, $1.50 to $10.00.

YONGE, CHARLOTTE M.--The Lances of Lynwood, Lothrop, Lee, $1.00. [Miss
    Yonge on children’s reading is seen to great advantage.]


INDIAN STORIES

BAYLOR, FRANCES C. (Mrs. F. C. [B.] Belger.)--Juan and Juanita.
    Houghton, $1.50.

BROOKS, NOAH--The Boy Emigrants. Scribner, $1.25.

    The Boy Settlers. (Early times in Kansas.) Scribner, $1.25.

CATHERWOOD, MARY HARTWELL--Heroes of the Middle West. Ginn, $0.50.

COOPER, JAMES FENIMORE--Deerslayer. Houghton, $1.00.

    The Spy. Houghton, $1.00; Appleton, $1.50. [The entire
    Leatherstocking series should be read.]

    The Last of the Mohicans. Houghton, $1.00.

CUSTER, MRS. E. B.--Boots and Saddles. Harper, $1.50. [An account of
    life in camp out West, and of her husband’s career. Campaigns
    against the Indians are described. A second book is called “Tenting
    on the Plains.” Harper, $1.50.]

DEMING, E. W.--Little Indian-Folk. Stokes, $1.25.

    Little Red People. Stokes, $1.25. [_Vide_ the same author’s “Indian
    Child Life.” Stokes, $2.00.]

DRAKE, F. S.--Indian History for Young Folks. Harper, $3.00.

EASTMAN, CHARLES A.--Indian Boyhood. McClure, $1.60 net.

MUNROE, KIRK--The Flamingo Feather. (A tale of Huguenots and
    Spaniards.) Harper, $0.60.

STODDARD, W. O.--Little Smoke. (A tale of the Sioux.) Appleton, $1.50.

    Red Mustang. Harper, $0.60.

    Two Arrows. Harper, $0.60.


STORIES

ABBOT, ALICE BALCH--A Frigate’s Namesake. Century, $1.00.

ALCOTT, LOUISA MAY--Eight Cousins. Little, Brown, $1.50.

    Little Women. _Ibid._

    Little Men. _Ibid._

    Old Fashioned Girl. _Ibid._

ALDEN, W. L.--Cruise of the Canoe Club. Harper, $0.60.

ANDREWS, JANE--The Seven Little Sisters who Lived on the Round Ball
    That Floats in the Air. Lothrop, Lee, $1.00.

    Ten Boys who Lived on the Road from Long Ago to Now. Lothrop, Lee,
    $1.00.

BARBOUR, RALPH--The Crimson Sweater. Century, $1.50. [The same author
    wrote “Captain of the Crew”; “For the Honor of the School.”]

BARRIE, JAMES M.--Peter Pan. (Ill., Arthur Rackham.) Scribner, $5.00.

BLACKMORE, R. D.--Lorna Doone. [For older readers.] Harper, $2.00.

BURNETT, F. H.--Little Lord Fauntleroy. Scribner, $1.25.

    The Little Princess. [An enlarged “Sara Crew.”] Scribner, $2.00.

CHAMPNEY, E. W.--Howling Wolf. Lothrop, $1.25. Pierre and his Poodle.
    Dodd, $1.00.

    Paddy O’Leary and his Learned Pig. Dodd, $1.00.

COOLIDGE, SUSAN (pseud., S. C. Woolsey.)--Eyebright. Little, Brown,
    $1.25.

DANA, RICHARD H., JR.--Two Years Before the Mast. Houghton, $1.00.

DE AMICIS, EDMONDO--Cuore: an Italian Schoolboy’s Journal. Crowell,
    $1.00.

DEFOE, DANIEL--Robinson Crusoe. (Ill., Rheid Brothers.) Russell,
    Harper, $1.50.

DICKENS, CHARLES--David Copperfield. Houghton, 2 vols., $3.00.

    Tale of Two Cities. Houghton, $1.50. [_Vide_ also “Christmas
    Carol.” These should encourage the children to follow up one work
    with another.]

DODGE, MARY MAPES--Donald and Dorothy. Century, $1.50. [_Vide_ her
    “Baby-Days.”]

    Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates. (New Amsterdam edition.)
    Scribner, $1.50.

DUNCAN, NORMAN--Adventures of Billy Topsail. Revell, $1.50. [This is a
    good example of an adventurous story, well told.]

EDGEWORTH, MARIA--Waste Not, Want Not. Heath, $0.20.

    Popular Tales. Macmillan, $1.50.

    Tales. (Ed., Austin Dobson.) Stokes, $1.50.

    Early Lessons. Routledge, $1.00. [The Macmillans also publish
    “Moral Tales,” $1.00; Routledge, “Parent’s Assistant,” $1.00.]

EGGLESTON, GEORGE CARY--Big Brother. Putnam, $1.25.

    Captain Sam. Putnam, $1.25.

EWING, MRS. J. H.--Jackanapes. Little, Brown, $0.50; Crowell, $0.60.

    Story of a Short Life. Dutton, $1.00; Crowell, $0.75.

    Timothy Shoes. [Short story.]

    The Brownies. Young, $1.00; Burt, $0.75.

FAIRSTAR, MRS. (pseud. of Richard Hengist Horne).--Memoirs of a London
    Doll. Brentano, $1.25.

FLETCHER, R. H.--Marjory and Her Papa. Century, $1.00.

FRENCH, ALLEN--The Junior Cup. Century, $1.50. [_Vide_ the same
    author’s excellent legendary-historical tale, “Sir Marrok.”
    Century, $1.00.]

GASKELL, E. C. (S.)--Cranford. (For older readers.) Macmillan, $1.50.

GATES, ELEANOR (Mrs. Richard Walton Tully.)--Biography of a Prairie
    Girl. Century, $1.50.

GILSON, ROY ROLFE--Katrina. (For older readers.) Baker and Taylor,
    $1.50.

GOLDSMITH, OLIVER--The Vicar of Wakefield. [Ill., Hugh Thomson. _Vide_
    also Caldecott.] Macmillan, $1.50.

    Goody Two Shoes. (Ed., Welsh.) Heath, $0.20. [_Vide_ also edition,
    Macmillan.]

GOULDING, FRANK--The Young Marooners. Dodd. No price stated. [There is
    a companion volume, “Marooner’s Island.” This Southern writer is
    little known.]

HALE, LUCRETIA P.--The Peterkin Papers. Houghton, $1.50. [There is
    another volume, “The Last of the Peterkins, with Others of Their
    Kin.”]

HARKER, L. ALLEN--Concerning Paul and Fiametta. Scribner, $1.25. [This
    book is delightfully human; some would consider it more a story
    _about_ children than _for_ children.]

HIGGINSON, THOMAS W.--Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic.
    Macmillan, $1.50.

HILL, C. T.--Fighting a Fire. [Stories of real life.] Century, $1.50.

HUGHES, RUPERT--The Lakerim Athletic Club. Century, $1.50.

    The Dozen from Lakerim. Century, $1.50.

HUGHES, THOMAS--Tom Brown’s School Days at Rugby. Macmillan, $1.50;
    Houghton, $1.00. [For older readers, there is “Tom Brown at
    Oxford.”]

IRVING, WASHINGTON--Bracebridge Hall. (Ill., Caldecott.) Macmillan,
    $1.50.

    Old Christmas. (Ill., Caldecott.) Macmillan, $1.50.

JACKSON, HELEN HUNT--Ramona. Little, Brown, $1.50.

    Nelly’s Silver Mine. (A Story of Colorado life.) Little, Brown,
    $1.50.

    Cat Stories. Little, Brown, $2.00.

JAMISON, MRS. C. V.--Lady Jane. Century, $1 .50.

    Toinette’s Philip. Century, $1.50. [Descriptions of early
    New-Orleans life.]

JEWETT, SARAH ORNE--Betty Leicester. Houghton, $1.25.

JOHNSON, ROSSITER--Phaeton Rogers. Scribner, $1.50.

KING, CAPT. CHARLES--Cadet Days. Harper, $1.25.

KIPLING, RUDYARD--“Captains Courageous.” (A tale of the Gloucester
    fishermen.) Century, $1.50.

LAMB, CHARLES AND MARY--Mrs. Leicester’s School. Dent (ill., Winifred
    Green, in Kate Greenaway style). Macmillan, $2.25.

LA RAMÉE, LOUISE DE (Ouida)--Dog of Flanders. Lippincott, $1.50.

LUCAS, E. V. (ED.)--Old-Fashioned Tales. Stokes, $1.50.

    (ED.) Forgotten Tales of Long Ago. Stokes, $1.50.

MARRYATT, FREDERICK--Masterman Ready. Macmillan, $1.50; Routledge,
    $1.25. [Some librarians would reject Marryatt as they would
    Ballentyne; others would include him as they would Ballentyne.]

MARTINEAU, HARRIET--The Crofton Boys. Routledge, $0.75; Heath, $0.30.

MATHEWS, MARGARET H.--Dr. Gilbert’s Daughters. Coates, $0.75.

MOFFETT, CLEVELAND--Careers of Danger and Daring. [Stories of real
    life.] Century, $1.50.

MOLESWORTH, MRS.--Two Little Waifs. Macmillan, $1.00.

    Carrots. Macmillan, $1.50; Crowell, $0.75.

MUNROE, KIRK--Cab and Caboose. Tale published in _St. Nicholas_.

    Derrick Sterling. Harper, $0.60.

MYRTLE, HARRIET--Country Scenes.

    Man of Snow. [Out of print, but re-publication strongly advised by
    librarians.]

OLLIVANT, ALFRED--Bob, Son of Battle. Doubleday, $1.50. [Strongly
    recommended for its vigour and its vividness.]

OTIS, JAMES (pseud, of J. O. Kaler)--Toby Tyler; or, Ten Weeks with a
    Circus. Harper, $0.60.

    Mr. Stubbs’s Brother. Harper, $0.60.

PAULL, MRS. H. B.--Only a Cat. Whitaker, $1.25. [An excellent story.]

PIER, ARTHUR S.--Boys of St. Timothy’s. Houghton, $1.50.

PYLE, HOWARD--Jack Ballister’s Fortunes. Century, $2.00.

RICHARDS, LAURA E.--Captain January. Estes, $0.50.

SANDFORD, MRS. D. P.--The Little Brown House and the Children who Lived
    in It. Dutton, $2.00.

SAUNDERS, MARSHALL--Beautiful Joe. Am. Bap., $0.25.

SCUDDER, HORACE E.--Bodley Books. Houghton, 8 vols., $12.00 set; $1.50
    each.

    The Children’s Book. (Edited.) Houghton, $2.50.

SÉGUR, MME. S. (R.) DE--The Story of a Donkey. Heath, $0.20.

SEWELL, ANNA--Black Beauty. Page, $1.25.

SHARP, EVELYN--The Youngest Girl in School. Macmillan, $1.50.

SHERWOOD, M. M. (B.)--The Fairchild Family. Stokes, $1.50. [Recommended
    for historic value.]

SHAW, F. L.--Castle Blair. Little, Brown, $1.00.

SPYRI, J.--Story of Heidi. DeWolfe Fiske, $1.50; Ginn, $0.40.

STEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS--Treasure Island. Scribner, $1.00. [“Kidnapped”
    is a sequel.]

    Black Arrow. Scribner, $1.00. [A good “penny-dreadful.”]

STOCKTON, FRANK R.--A Jolly Fellowship. Scribner, $1.50.

STUART, RUTH MCENERY--The Story of Babette. Harper, $1.50. [_Vide_ the
    same author’s “Solomon Crow’s Christmas Pocket.” Harper, $1.25.]

TAGGART, MARION AMES--The Little Gray House. McClure, $1.25. [The
    author has unfortunately been persuaded to continue her story in a
    second volume.]

TRIMMER, SARAH K.--History of the Robins. Heath, $0.25. [Historic
    interest.]

TROWBRIDGE, JOHN T.--The Tinkham Brothers’ Tide-Mill. Lothrop, Lee,
    $1.25.

    His Own Master. Lothrop, Lee, $1.25.

    Jack Hazard and His Fortunes. Coates, $1.25. (In a series.)

TWAIN, MARK (pseud. of Samuel L. Clemens.)--Huckleberry Finn. Harper,
    $1.75.

    Tom Sawyer. Harper, $1.75.

VAN DYKE, HENRY--The First Christmas Tree. (Ill., Pyle.) Scribner,
    $1.50.

    The Story of the Other Wise Man. Harper, $1.00.

VERNE, JULES--A Tour of the World in Eighty Days. [_Vide_ various
    editions.]

    Twenty Thousand leagues under the Sea. Coates, $0.75. [_Vide_
    various editions.]

WIGGIN, KATE DOUGLAS--Half a Dozen House Keepers. Altemus, $0.75.

    Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Houghton, $1.25.

    The Bird’s Christmas Carol. Houghton, $0.50.

    Timothy’s Quest. (Ill., Oliver Herford.) Houghton, $1.50.

    Polly Oliver’s Problem. Houghton, $1.00.

WYSS, J. R. V. AND MONTOLIEU, BARONNE DE--Swiss Family Robinson.
    Warne, $2.50; Dutton, $2.50. [Cheaper editions.]


BOOKS ABOUT CHILDREN

ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY--Story of a Bad Boy. (Ill., Frost.) Houghton,
    $2.00; $1.25.

EGGLESTON, EDWARD--The Hoosier School-Boy. Scribner, $1.00.

EWALD, CARL (Tr., DeMattos.)--My Little Boy. Scribner, $1.00.

GILSON, ROY ROLFE--Mother and Father. Harper, $1.25.

HOWELLS, WILLIAM DEAN--A Boy’s Town. (Told for _Harper’s Young
    People_.) Harper, $1.25.

HUTTON, LAURENCE--A Boy I knew and Four Dogs. Harper, $1.25.

LARCOM, LUCY--New England Girlhood. Houghton, $0.75. [_Vide_ various
    editions.]

MARTIN, EDWARD S.--The Luxury of Children. Harper, $1.75 net.

RICHARDS, LAURA E.--When I Was Your Age. Estes, $1.25.

WARNER, CHARLES DUDLEY--Being a Boy. Houghton, $1.25.

WHITTIER, JOHN G. (ED.)--Child-Life in Prose. Houghton, $2.00.


ETHICS AND RELIGION

BIBLE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE (Ed., Mrs. Joseph Gilder; Bishop
    Potter.)--Century, $1.50; ed. de luxe, $3.00.

BUNYAN, JOHN--Pilgrim’s Progress. Century (Ill., Brothers Rhead.),
    $1.50; Scribner (Ill., Byam Shaw), $2.50 net.

FIELD, EUGENE--A Little Book of Profitable Tales. Scribner, $1.25.

GATTY, MRS.--Parables from Nature. Bell (2 vols.); Macmillan, $1.50;
    Dutton (Everyman’s Library.).

HOUGHTON, LOUISE SEYMOUR--Telling Bible Stories. Scribner, $1.25. [R.
    G. Moulton has edited for Macmillan a Children’s Scries of Bible
    Stories.]

PSALMS OF DAVID (Ill., Brothers Rhead.)--Revell, $2.50.

RUSKIN, JOHN--Sesame and Lilies. [_Vide_ editions, McClurg, Mosher,
    Crowell, etc.]


III. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

A few references of a miscellaneous character are here given:

BIBLE in Elementary Schools (J. G. Fitch)--_Nineteenth Century_, 36:817.

BOOK, The Child and His (Mrs. E. M. Field)--London, Wells, Gardner,
    Darton & Co., 1891.

BOOK, The Child and the (Gerald Stanley Lee)--Putnam, 1907.

BOOK-PLATES, Modern, and their Designers (Gleeson White)--_The Studio_,
    1898–99, Supplement 1.

BOOKS, Better, Some Means by Which Children May Be Led to Read (Clara
    W. Hunt)--_Library Journal_, 24:147.

BOOKS, Children’s (Caroline M. Hewins)--_Public Library_, 1:190.

BOOKS, Children’s, and Children (H. A. Page)--_Contemporary_, 11:7.

BOOKS for Boys and Girls, On Some (From _Blackwood_)--_Liv. Age_, 209:3.

BOOKS for Children, Illustrated (W. M. Thackeray)--_Fraser_, 33:495
    (1846).

BOOKS for Children That Have Lived (C. Welsh)--_Library_ [London],
    n.s., 1:314.

BOOKS, The Best Hundred, for Children--_Liv. Age_, 225:132.

CARNEGIE Libraries, Giving (I. F. Marcosson)--_World’s Work_, 9:6092.

CULTURE, On a Possible Popular (T. Wright)--_Contemporary_, 40:25.

ENGLISH, On the Teaching of (Percival Chubb)--Macmillan, 1902.

GIRL, The Reading of the Modern (Florence B. Low)--_Nineteenth
    Century_, 59:278.

GIRLS Read, What (E. G. Salmon)--_Nineteenth Century_, 20:515.

HENTY Book, What You Can Get Out of a (Caroline M. Hewins)--_Wisconsin
    Library Bulletin_, Sept.-Oct., 1906.

LESSON-BOOKS, Our Ancestor’s (S. E. Braine)--_Liv. Age_, 222:522.

LIBRARIANA: An Outline of the Literature of Libraries (F. J.
    Teggart)--_Library Journal_, 25:223, 577, 625.

LIBRARIES, Home, for Poor Children (Frances J. Olcott)--_Chautauquan_,
    39:374.

LIBRARIES, Public, in the United States: Their History, Condition, and
    Management. Bureau of Education, 1876.

LIBRARIES, Small, Hints to (M. W. Plummer)--Pratt Institute, 1902.

LIBRARIES, The Free Travelling, in Wisconsin. The Story of Their
    Growth, etc. _Wisconsin Free Library Commission_, Madison, 1897.
    [Interesting monograph.]

LIBRARIES, What Free, are doing for Children (Mary W.
    Plummer.)--_Library Journal_, _Vide_ vol. 22.

LIBRARY, The Free: Its History, etc. (John J. Ogle)--London, Allen,
    1897.

LIBRARY Literature in England and in the United States During the
    Nineteenth Century (F. J. Teggart)--_Library Journal_, 26:257.

LIBRARY Movement in the South Since 1899 (Anne Wallace)--_Library
    Journal_, 32:253.

LIBRARY Work with Children (Arabella H. Jackson)--Carnegie Library,
    Pittsburgh, Pa. [Statistical.]

LIBRARY Work, Rational, With Children, and the Preparation For It
    (Frances J. Olcott)--Carnegie Library, Pittsburgh. Boston: A. L. A.
    Pub. Board. Reprint Series, No. 9, $0.05.

LISTS, Reading, Fallacies of--_Liv. Age_, 170:218.

LITERATURE, Cheap (Helen Bosanquet)--_Contemporary_, 79:671.

LITERATURE, Cheap, for Village Children--_Liv. Age_, 138:296.

LITERATURE, Children’s (Ellen M. Henrotin)--_National Magazine_
    (Boston), 7:373.

LITERATURE for the Little Ones (E. G. Salmon)--_Nineteenth Century_,
    22:563.

LITERATURE, Modern, Children and (H. Sutton)--_Liv. Age_, 192:287.

MUSIC, Public School (S. W. Cole)--_New Eng. Mag._, n.s., 13:328.

MUSIC in Schools, Teaching of (J. C. Hadden)--_Nineteenth Century_,
    42:142.

MUSIC, The Introduction of the Study of, into the Public Schools of
    Boston and of America (J. C. Johnson)--_Boston_, 1:622.

NOVELS, Some, to Read (Caroline M. Hewins)--_Traveller’s Record_,
    Feb.-Mar., 1889.

PERIODICALS, Children’s Books and (Abby L. Sargent)--_Library Journal_,
    25:64 [Conference, June 7–12, 1900.]

PICTURES in Library Work for Children, The Place of (Annie C.
    Moore)--_Library Journal_, 25:159.

READ, Some Things a Boy of Seventeen Should Have Had an Opportunity to
    (H. L. Elmendorf)--_R. of Rs._ (N. Y.), 28:713.

READER, The Modern Child as a (Tudor Jenks)--_Book-Buyer_, 23:17.

READING for Boys and Girls (E. T. Tomlinson)--_Atlantic_, 86:693.

READING for Children (H. V. Weisse)--_Contemporary_, 79:829.

READING, On (Georg Brandes)--_Internal. Quar._, 12:273.

READING, On the Pleasure of (Sir John Lubbock)--_Contemporary_, Feb.,
    1886.

SCHOOL, The Novel and the Common (Charles Dudley Warner)--_Atlantic_,
    65:721.

SCHOOLS, School-books, and School-masters. A Contribution to the
    History of Educational Development in Great Britain (W. Carew
    Hazlitt)--London, 1888.

SCHOOLDAYS of Eminent Men (John Timbs)--London, 1870.

SHAKESPEARE for Children (Charles Welsh)--_Dial_ (Chicago), May 16,
    1907, in answer to SHAKESPEARE, Reading, to Children (Walter Taylor
    Field)--_Dial_ (Chicago), May 1, 1907.

STORIES to Children, How to Tell (Sara Cone Bryant)--Houghton, $1.00
    net.

STORY-BOOKS, Children’s (F. Maccuun)--_Liv. Age_, 241:746.

STORY-TELLERS, About Old (Donald G. Mitchell)--Scribner.

WOMEN’S CLUBS, How, May Help the Library Movement (E. G.
    Browning)--_Library Journal_, 24:--suppl. C. 18. [Conference, May
    9–13, 1899.]




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

 - Italic text shown with surrounding _underscores_.

 - Bold text shown with surrounding =equal signs=.

 - Text in small caps have been converted to all caps.

 - Typographic inconsistencies in the bibliographic references silently
   corrected.

 - All footnotes have been renumbered sequentially and moved to the ends
   of their respective chapters.


Corrections

 Page|      Original        |      Correction      |          Notes
 ----+----------------------+----------------------+----------------------
   v | wth                  | with                 | typo
  41 | verification,        | verification.        | typo
  73 | irrritability        | irritability         | typo
 122 | Dr. Watts’           | Dr. Watts’s          | match usage on p. 124
 128 | “Away down the river | Away down the river, | original has no “
 129 | beautitul            | beautiful            | typo
 136 | graphcally           | graphically          | typo
 140 | DeGenlis             | De Genlis            | typo
 143 | laisse               | laissé               | typo
 143 | m’egaye              | m’égaye              | typo
 143 | I prefer             | “I prefer            | missing open quote
 171 | area way             | areaway              | typo
 181 | improverishing       | impoverishing        | typo
 182 | betweeen             | between              | typo
 186 | text book            | text-book            | typo
 191 | Prufungsausschüsse   | Prüfungsausschüsse   | typo
 196 | fourteen             | fourteen-            | typo
 219 | O’Keefe              | O’Keeffe             | typo
 221 | Swift, Dean          | Swift, Jonathan      | incorrect attribution
 223 | How o Make Baskets   | How to Make Baskets  | typo
 230 | Electrcitiy          | Electricity          | typo