This rudimentary instruction, as has been seen, was not practicable at home. The parents of few had means sufficient to board them at the better class of schools in the large towns. Some, indeed, did make the strain to send their daughters, when arrived at 15 or 16 years, to such schools in Augusta, Charleston, Salem in North Carolina, and even as far as Mrs. Willard's Seminary at Troy in the State of New York; but the majority acquired only what was to be gotten in the old field. It was of a part with the constitution of that rural society, in the case of boys particularly, that they should be in frequent contact with their fellows in age for other purposes besides educational. By the hearty coalescence of men of all degrees in the community, the son of a man of property was taught to regard himself by birth alone not above any honorable poor man's son. Therefore, in the lack of a teacher native born, when the stranger made application, after "sizing him up" to the very moderate demands made upon him and not finding where they could do any better, citizens of all ranks signed his articles that in all conscience ought, in a matter of business, to have been satisfactory and let him make his start. SCHOOLHOUSES. A place was selected on the edge of a wood and a field turned out to fallow, sufficiently central, hard by a spring of purest fresh water, a loghouse was put up, say 30 by 25 feet, with one door and a couple of windows and shelves, with benches along the unceiled walls, and the session began. Most families breakfasted about sunrise, and a brisk walk of three-quarters of an hour brought even remotest dwellers to the early opening. The one who happened to reach the schoolhouse first on winter mornings kindled a fire. This was before the date of lucifer matches. In winter halfburned logs were so disposed beneath ashes on the huge fireplaces as to preserve fire through the night, which was quickly rekindled by the aid of pine knots always on hand. To provide against failure, the master and some of the larger boys carried a small piece of rotten wood-punk-obtained from a decayed oak, which, being held under a flintstone and struck with a steel blade of a pocket knife, produced sparks, igniting the wood. There was seldom any suffering from cold. At noon a recess of two hours was allowed for dinner and sports. On days when the sun shone, the hour was made known by its reaching a mark on the floor by the door or one of the window-sills. In cloudy weather it was guessed at. The idea of a schoolmaster owning a watch did not enter anybody's mind. When the day was done, dismissal was out and out. There were no keepings-in at noon or evening tide. Each day had its own history and no more; whatever was done was done for all henceforth-recitings, good or bad, punishments big or little, became things of the past, though their likes were sure to be enacted on every day thereafter. The meaning is that nothing was put off, no more than a breakfast, for the morrow. The master went silently to the house where he boarded, and the pupils, boys and girls, whipped and unwhipped, turning their backs upon everything, journeyed leisurely along, boys anon rallying one another on the day's misadventures, personal and vicarious, and the girls behind laughing at them, occasionally lingering to gather and weave into nosegays wild flowers, that in all seasons, except the depth of winter, bordered their way along roads and lanes. with his fist and went away. Another schoolmaster, telling him that he had Homer corrected by himself; "How?" said Alcibiades, "and do you employ your time in teaching children to read? You, who are able to amend Homer, may well undertake to instruct men.' Lucian laughed much at the beggarly straits in the lower regions of bad kings, and satraps, and hucksters of dead fish, and rudimentary schoolmasters. (Charicles, by Rev. Frederick Metcalfe, M. A., p. 229.) It seems curious to look back to times so far agone and recall the shifts to which people sometimes resorted and the inconvenience to which they were subjected through lack of foresight in this behalf. On plantations where there were negroes they had such matter in charge, for the race loves the fire and dreads being ever without it; but improvident poor whites the morning sometimes found without even a piece of punk to supplement their lack of foresight touching this essential item of materials for getting breakfast, and one of the household must travel often a mile and more to obtain it from a neighbor. Besides the inconvenience to one fallen into this predicament, he had to endure some ridicule for his negligence when met on the road swinging the brand. This custom gave rise to a saying which to some extent obtains in the State to this day and with many who know not its origin. When one, after a call at a neighbor's and after a stay regarded too brief by the host, rose to go, the latter might say, "Why, it looks like you came for a chunk of fire." The introduction of lucifer matches created much sensation, leading some simple rural minds to speculate as to whether there was any limit to the mind of man. The first of the kind were square blocks of wood, two-thirds of which had been cut with a small saw in both directions across the end surface and slightly covered with sulphur. When one was wanted it was carefully detached with the finger nail. A stick of these, containing about a couple of dozen, lasted quite a time, never being used except when necessary by the going out of fire on the premises. Compared with present prices, the first was enormous. Some old persons yet living are, from long habit, extremely economical in the use of them, sometimes slightly burning their fingers in trying to make one render as much service as possible. ما IN THE SCHOOLROOM. The fashion of studying aloud in schools, now so curious to recall, did not produce the confusion which those not accustomed to it would suppose. Besides the natural desire to avoid punishment, rivalries were often very active, particularly among girls, and during the time devoted wholly to study, there were few who did not make reasonable effort to prepare for recitation. Spellers, readers, geographers, grammarians, getters-by-heart, all except cipherers, each in his or her own tongue and tone, raised to height sufficient to be clearly distinguished from others by individual ears, filled the room and several square rods of circumambient space outside. In this while the master, deaf to the various multitudinous sounds, sat in his chair, sometimes watching for a silent tongue, at others, with lack-luster eyes gazing through the door into the world beyond, perhaps musing when and where, if ever in this life, this toiling, fighting, migratory, isolated, and about friendless career would find respite. Pupils stood while reciting. In spelling and reading, except with beginners, the classes were few, seldom more than two or three in a study, arranged according to age and degree of advancement, boys and girls mingling together. Dread of the ridicule attached to the foot of the class prompted nearly everyone to strive to avoid it. Many a blush painted the cheek and many a tear dimmed the eye of a girl while descending to this position of dishonor. The effect was benign. Good spelling, particularly among the girls, was the rule in nearly every school. Seldom did any among half a dozen in the lead make changes of place. These were mainly below, increasing in frequency toward the end. The head was lost generally by accident or momentary negligence of keeping on the alert, and it required like default to make another change in that quarter. In reading, excellence was on a scale very far lower. It was taught after a fashion solemn and formal, sometimes ludicrously so. With the master the sentiment seemed that after one rose from spelling to reading one must be taught to feel that what was printed in books had acquired beyond spoken words dignity to which readers must pay worshipful respect, pronouncing in measured, solemn flow. Many an older man in after years would rehearse in lengthened, sepulchral monotone his school rendering of those deeply affecting fables in Webster's Elementary Spelling Book, "The partial judge," the "Boy that stole apples," "The country maid and her milk pail," with illustrations taught to be the last, highest, and forever hereafter unsurpassable pinnacle of pictorial art. Indeed, regarding the last-mentioned story particularly, the artist ought to have done his best in representing a scene the preface to the recital of which is replete with such solemn admonition. How awfully, mysteriously severe the following words of warning sounded in the ears of children who had never made acquaintance with the meaning of one single big word: "When men suffer their imaginations to mislead them with the prospect of distant and uncertain improvements of their condition, they frequently sustain real losses by their inattention to those affairs in which they are presently concerned." Perhaps the solemn measured mode of reading then taught, together with the sort of school readers, gave rise to the idea among small children and even some uneducated grown persons, that all printed matter must necessarily be serious. The stately maxims of Webster's Spelling Book, although wholly unintelligible, yet, and for that reason, were believed to have in their profoundest depth words of vast meaning. The two reading books were Popular Lessons and Murray's English Reader. Than the former none could be better. It was made up of extracts from Mrs. Barbauld, Miss Edgeworth, and others. One chapter in particular had great fame among rural school children. It was "The story of little Jack." The hero, after the death of his mother when he was an infant, was nourished by the milk of a she-goat. For the good beast he grew to have fondest attachment. Her maltreatment on one occasion by a rash unfeeling youth provoked her youngling to such a pitch of filial indignation, that, although not at all passionate by nature and too little to make much headway in fight, he uttered some such words as the following: "She has been like a mother to me, and I will not hear her abused as long as breath is in my body." Then straightway he rushed to her defense. Than these words none uttered in the heroic age, than this act of courage none performed in that same, whether slaughter of lion, bull, serpent, or other ravaging beast, whether taking mighty cities or leading conquering armies, were regarded more pathetic, more glorious, more sublime. One day the late Linton Stephens, who as a lawyer was superior to his brother Alexander, becoming one of the judges upon the supreme bench of the State, received a copy of this old book, sent by a friend who had lately purchased it among a lot of others of the sort at an administrator's sale. Message came along with it that the purchaser, although much inclined thereto, had not read the story of Little Jack, fearing that its perusal at that late day might subtract from the fondness with which, since the time of childhood, the two together had been wont to recall it. At the next meeting of these friends Judge Stephens said: "You need not be afraid you won't cry in reading Little Jack. I read it aloud the other day to the children. They cried as if their little hearts would break, and I shed about as many tears as they did." Remembered well are also some of Mrs. Barbauld's Hymns in Prose, whose teachings of duty, devoid of threatening, replete with tenderest persuasion, were a pleasing set-off to the hard, senseless despotism all around. Helped by the teachings of this precious little volume, school children could sometimes lift up their minds and get much of the blessing that comes from the contemplation of better things. Older pupils used Murray's English Reader. Its title was extremely promising, running thus: "Murray's English Reader, or pieces in prose and poetry, selected from the best writers, designed to assist young persons to read with propriety and effect; to improve their language and sentiments, and to inculcate some of the most important principles of piety and virtue, with a few preliminary observations on the principles of good reading, improved by the addition of a concordant and synonymizing vocabulary, consisting of about fifteen hundred of the most important words contained in this work. The words are arranged in columns and placed in columns over the sections, respectively, from which they are selected, and are divided, defined, and pronounced according to the principles of John Walker. The words in the vocabulary and their correspondent words in the sections are numbered with figures of reference. Walker's pronouncing key, which governs this vocabulary, is prefixed to this work." To all which is appended the following from Dr. Johnson: "Words can have no definitive idea attached to them when by themselves. It is the situation and tract in a sentenco which determine their precise meaning." In one of the prefaces to the improved edition, the author's disclaimer of any other than generous, most unselfish purposes in offering his work to the pupils is interesting in this generation, when few in the profession, if any, are so easily made content with such reward as he allows himself to hope for. The concluding paragraph reads thus: "To improve the young mind and afford some assistance to tutors in the arduous and important work of education were the motives which led to the production. If the author should be so successful as to accomplish these ends, even in a small degree, he will think that his time and pains have been well employed and will deem himself amply rewarded." This work enlarged upon the solemnly monitory readings that were interjected into the Spelling Book. The very first one of "Select sentences and paragraphs" seemed to intimate that these same virtues, however neglected by adults, were especially obligatory upon the young: "Diligence, industry, and proper improvement of time are material duties of the young." Yet a little afterwards they are encouraged by another containing the promise, "Virtuous youth gradually brings forward accomplished and flourishing manhood." Notwithstanding too much preponderance of the serious and the monitory, many of the selections are of great excellence, being taken from such writers as Johnson, Addison, Blair, Thomson, Cowper, Merrick, and others. But to a schoolboy, healthy, at home happy, with no special aspirations or apprehensions about his own future, many of the titles could not be notably attractive. Witness the following: "The trials of virtue;" "The vanity of wealth;" "Reflections on a future state from a view of winter;" "Change of external condition often adverse to virtue;" "On the importance of order in the distribution of our time;" "The misfortune of men chargeable to themselves;" "On the immortality of the soul;" "The good man's comfort in affliction," and many other such subjects. A book with such selections could not be expected to be read except in class, as was the case with Popular Lessons. When boys and girls became old enough to take serious interest in the meaning of what they read, they went to the few romances to be found here and there in the neighborhood, such as Children of the Abbey, Mysteries of Udolpho, Thaddeus of Warsaw, and Scottish Chiefs. It was always pleasant to feel and afterwards to remember the impressions made upon young simple minds by these books, then more than half believed to contain veritable chronicles of bravest men and loveliest women. They served purposes most benign. They largely contributed to the production of pure and generous aspirations, to the development of good manhood and good womanhood, each sex endeavoring and hoping, if not to equal, at least to approximate exalted ideals as near as was possible in existing limitations. In after years elderly ladies who had long ceased to read novels of any sort, when hearing young people praise later works of the kind, would never be made believe that they could be compared favorably with those which in their own young day drew so many tears from their eyes, and prompted so fondly to duty. These benign influences did not cease with experience of labor and cares and vicissitudes; they assisted throughout life in imparting strength steadfast in continuance at their work, and to fortitude in the enduring of misfortune. ED 95-54* A-BISSEL-FA. Curious and interesting are some of the researches made by philologists into the earliest languages of several people, among them those relating to the names of the letters of the alphabet. Prof. E. S. Sheldon, of Harvard University, has written a very interesting monograph on the letter a. In it is some information on the subject gotten from Dr. Garland, late president of Vanderbilt University, through Prof. Charles Forster Smith, now professor of Greek in the University of Wisconsin. It was thus: "When I was a boy at a country school in Nelson County, Va., about 1820, we used the word a-bis-sil-fa with accents on the second and last syllables, and were taught that it came from abbreviating the sentence 'A by itself A.' I also heard, but rarely, the vowel e used in a similar way." This practice, including the other three vowels, obtained in middle Georgia, in the early part of the present century, but they were pronounced A-bissel-fa, e-bissel-fe, etc. The system of teaching geography was as empty as possible of results beyond assisting the memory. The book used was Woodbridge's Universal Geography. The master was satisfied with answers in the words of the book which he held in his hands. No pupil ever undertook to draw a map, or imagined that such a thing was possible except to the printer of the book. Indeed such a thing as a blackboard may have been heard of, but never seen by any. Knowledge of a globe was as far away. Children learned that there were two continents, several oceans, quite a number of gulfs, rivers, and bays, a yet larger number of cities and towns somewhere, and were able, during a brief season, to be forgotten as soon as it was passed, to bound each of the States of the Union, and that was about all. The chief among studies was arithmetic, generally called by the master and pupils "rethmetic," and its students "cipherers." A cipherer, if advanced beyond rudiments, had the respect of all, master, as well as pupils. He was allowed to go out of the house when it seemed necessary to carry his ears out of the reach of voices sounding topics of low degree. The master was bound to be familiar with every problem, disgraced, as he knew he must be, if found unable to pull any boy through the most abstruse. The "great, the eventful day" with a boy was when he could say without a hitch the multiplication table. If the blows and imprecations gotten while tackling this sphinx in earliest school times could be known, they could not be counted by one man in a life of three-score and ten. But after victory camo and he was called a cipherer, it was a triumph as sweet as that felt by the most eager office seeker to whom, after long waiting and sighing, and plying his wiles and fingering his wires, the place sought opens to receive him. The text-books used were, by most, The Federal Calculator, by others, one whose title ran thus: "A new and complete system of arithmetic, composed for the use of the citizens of the United States, by Wilder Pike, A. M., A. A. S." It was always rather imposing when a big boy came in from his outdoor elaborations of great problems, sometimes with a smile on his face, oftener with mild solemnity, each indicating victory, and held up to the master his slate covered with details of the hard battle he had been fighting. The respect expressed in the faces of little children and the envy noted on those of some as big as he was he felt to be no greater reward than he deserved for such warfare as he had fought to the destroying of his enemies. There was one sum (as they called them) in particular which, as it had a trifle of humor, and produced a result not only wonderful but incredible also, always attracted attention. Sixty years afterwards old men could recite the story of it word for word. "An ignorant fop wanting to purchase an elegant house, a facetious gentleman told him that he had one which he would sell him on these moderate terms, viz, that he should give him a cent for the first door, 2 cents for the second, 4 cents for the third, and so on, doubling at every door, which were 36 in all. It is a bargain,' cried the simpleton, and here is a guinea to bind it.' Pray what did the house cost him?" Blackboards being none, results after achieved were announced aloud, when the finder looked around with triumph subdued by compassion at the awe and incredibility visible upon the faces of the young beings, as in sonorous, measured tones, he declaimed, "Six hundred and thirty-seven millions, one hundred and ninety-four thousand, seven hundred and sixty-seven dollars, and thirty-five cents!" Some grown-up men, calling back to mind whippings they had received times gone by while vainly pondering this vast problem, used resolutely to declare their belief that such a trade never did happen, and never could have happened; for that no fool, however big, was big enough to ask for one single, lone house by itself more money than every house in the State of Georgia, and the land belonging to it flung in, would fetch, if put up on the block; and that they hadn't a doubt it was put down in a book, like a many another, mostly to make some sort of excuse for beating boys' backs for not being quicker to find out what figures can be made to mount up to when you fix them in a certain way and keep piling them up on top of one another. The average schoolmaster had a reasonably good head for arithmetic, and by long practice became familiar with all the problems of the Federal Calculator. What ho dreaded in this study was a sending to him by one of his patrons, or another citizen, of a problem not contained in the book. An occasion of this sort was long remembered. His failure to render satisfactory solution, and the mortification incurred from it, was avenged, after waiting for a convenient opportunity, by whipping the boy by whom the problem was carried for a dereliction so trifling that all knew the motive for the infliction. But Murray's English Grammar was his favorite. He thought he knew all about it and a great deal more; he knew also that people not well schooled in it themselves were not very much concerned as to whether he did or not. As with geography, so here, the open book in his hand was an advantage used for all it was worth. Parsing was employed only on simplest sentences, over which ado was made often to most laughable degrees. English grammar was his pride, in which most of his harmless little productions were displayed. Upon the sweatband of his hat were inscribed grammar rules and maxims from Webster's Spelling Book, which when away from the schoolroom he fondly quoted in season and out. If a stranger, on meeting one for the first time, hesitated where to locate him, doubt instantly vanished when he took off his hat and opened his mouth. Occasionally one of our masters when rather young essayed poetry, which, in the lack of magazine, he exhibited or let lie about for inspection. A lawyer, friend of the writer, once told him of having stopped for the night at a country house while on his way to attend court in the county adjoining. The neighborhood schoolmaster was a temporary boarder there, it being the custom among the patrons to give boarding and lodging by turns. Noting from his speech and the peculiar wearing of his hair that he had uncommon ambition, the lawyer was not surprised to find on a table in the room where he slept, which the poet had vacated for his accommodation, freshly written in copy-book hand, these verses: We part, we part; but oh, I hope Where there is nothing else to crave. Next morning his evident gratification, when made aware that the effusion had been noticed, drew from this guest, a wag and a wit, some words of commendation which he had not the heart to withhold. "Fact was," he pleaded, "I owed him something for the inconvenience to which he had been subjected on my account, and his manifest pleasure from the lie I uttered made me feel that it was venial. Besides, though that is saying a good deal, I have seen some that was as bad."1 His essays of lofty phrase, of course, were not criticised when put forth before his pupils; but experience had taught that he must use some guard when addressing himself to others, cultured or not. Indeed, the latter often were his most critical auditors. The former only smiled inwardly, while the latter, when detecting the flaw, sometimes indulged a broad grin, and, if of waggish turn, humbly asked that he "explain himself," if he pleased, or that he would "call that word over again and call it slow and distinct." It was, therefore, that such a man led a sort of double existence; bold, commanding in the school, and hesitating, often to timidity, elsewhere. Yet this skittishness could not altogether hinder his continuance among The rustic schoolmaster of olden times seemed, like him of the new, to have been of a type different from the rest of mankind. One was made immortal in Goldsmith's Deserted Village. This, as has always been understood, was Thomas Byrne, a veteran soldier, who had served many years in the Spanish wars. He was called by the name of Quartermaster Thomas Byrne. At Goldsmith's first school, kept by Mistress Elizabeth Delap at the village of Lissoy, whither the family had removed during his infancy, he was considered a dunce. What his dormant understanding needed, perhaps, was a stronger arm for wielding the rod, and so afterwards he was sent to this learned quartermaster, who was noted mostly for his love of lengthened, sonorous words. "Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace |