The Young Lady's Mentor by A Lady

A >> A Lady >> The Young Lady\'s Mentor

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

While your principal personal object and personal gratification in your
studies is to be derived from the gradual improvement of your mind and
tastes, this gradual improvement will be often so imperceptible that you
will need support and cheering during many weeks and months of
apparently profitless mental application. Such support you may provide
for yourself in the daily satisfaction resulting from having fulfilled a
certain task, from having obeyed a law, though only a self-imposed one.
Men, in their studies, have almost always that near and immediate object
which I recommend to you to create for yourself. For them, as well as
for you, the distant future of attained mental eminence and excellence
is indeed the principal object. They, however, have it in their power to
cheat the toil and cheer the way by many intermediate steps, which
serve both as landmarks in their course and objects of interest within
their immediate reach. They can almost always have some special object
in view, as the result and reward of the studies of each month, or
quarter, or year. They read for prizes, scholarships, fellowships, &c.;
and these rewards, tangibly and actually within their reach, excite
their energies and quicken their exertions.

For women there is nothing of the kind; it is therefore a useful
exercise of her ingenuity to invent some substitute, however inferior to
the original. For this purpose, I have never found any thing so
effectual as a self-imposed system of study,--the stricter the better.
It is not desirable, however, that this system should be one of very
constant employment; the strictness of which I spoke only refers to its
regularity. As the great object is that you should break through your
rules as seldom as possible, it would be better to fix the number of
your hours of occupation rather below, certainly not above, your average
habits. The time that may be to spare on days in which you meet with no
interruption from visitors may also be systematically disposed of: you
may always have some book in hand which will be ready to fill up any
unoccupied moments, without, even on these occasions, wasting your time
in deliberating as to what your next employment shall be.

You understand me, therefore, to recommend that those hours of the
system which you are to impose upon yourself to employ in a certain
manner are not to exceed the number you can ordinarily secure without
interruption on _every_ day of the week, exclusive of visitors, &c. &c.
Every advantage pertaining to the system I recommend is much enhanced by
the uniformity of its observance: indeed, it is on rigid attention to
this point that its efficacy principally depends. I will now enter into
the details of the system of study which, however modified by your own
mind and habits, will, I hope, in some form or other, be adopted by you.
The first arrangement of your time ought to be the laying apart of a
certain period every day for the deepest thinking you can compel
yourself to, either on or off book.

Having said so much on this point in my last letter, I should run the
risk of repetition if I dwelt longer upon it here. I only mention it at
all to give it again the most prominent position in your studies, and to
recommend its invariably occupying a daily place in them. For every
other pursuit, two or three times a week might answer as well, perhaps
better, as it would be too great an interruption to devote to each only
so short a period of time as could be allotted to it in a daily
distribution. It may be desirable, before I take leave of the subject of
your deeper studies, to mention here some of the books which will give
you the most effectual aid in the formation of your mind.

Butler's Analogy will be perhaps the very best to begin with: you must
not, however, flatter yourself that you in any degree understand this or
other books of the same nature until you penetrate into their extreme
difficulty,--until, in short, you find out that you can _not_ thoroughly
understand them _yet_. Queen Caroline, George II.'s wife, in the hope of
proving to Bishop Horsley how fully she appreciated the value of the
work I have just mentioned, told him that she had it constantly beside
her at her breakfast-table, to read a page or two in it whenever she had
an idle moment. The Bishop's reply was scarcely intended for a
compliment. He said _he_ could never open the book without a headache;
and really a headache is in general no bad test of our having thought
over a book sufficiently to enter in some degree into its real meaning:
only remember, that when the headache begins the reading or the thinking
must stop. As you value tho long and unimpaired preservation of your
powers of mind, guard carefully against any over-exertion of them.

To return to the "Analogy." It is a book of which you cannot too soon
begin the study,--providing you, as it will do, at once with materials
for the deepest thought, and laying a safe foundation for all future
ethical studies; it is at the same time so clearly expressed, that you
will have no perplexity in puzzling out the mere external form of the
idea, instead of fixing all your attention on solving the difficulties
of the thoughts and arguments themselves. Locke on the Human
Understanding is a work that has probably been often recommended to you.
Perhaps, if you keep steadily in view the danger of his materialistic,
unpoetic, and therefore untrue philosophy, the book may do you more good
than harm; it will furnish you with useful exercise for your thinking
powers; and you will see it so often quoted as authority, on one side as
truth, on the other as falsehood, that it may be as well you should form
your own judgment of it. You should previously, however, become guarded
against any dangers that might result from your study of Locke, by
acquiring a thorough-knowledge of the philosophy of Coleridge. This will
so approve itself to your conscience, your intellect, and your
imagination, that there can be no risk of its being ever supplanted in a
mind like yours by "plebeian"[79] systems of philosophy. Few have now
any difficulty in perceiving the infidel tendencies of that of Locke,
especially with the assistance of his French philosophic followers,
(with whose writings, for the charms of style and thought, you will
probably become acquainted in future years.) They have declared what the
real meaning of his system is by the developments which they have proved
to be its necessary consequences. Let Coleridge, then, be your previous
study, and the philosophic system detailed in his various writings may
serve as a nucleus, round which all other philosophy may safely enfold
itself. The writings of Coleridge form an era in the history of the
mind; and their progress in altering the whole character of thought, not
only in this but in foreign nations, if it has been slow, (which is one
of the necessary conditions of permanence,) has been already
astonishingly extensive. Even those who have never heard of the name of
Coleridge find their habits of thought moulded, and their perceptions of
truth cleared and deepened, by the powerful influence of his
master-mind,--powerful still, though it has probably only reached them
through three or four interposing mediums. The proud boast of one of
his descendants is amply verified: "He has given the power of vision:"
and in ages yet to come, many who may unfortunately be ignorant of the
very name of their benefactor will still be profiting daily, more and
more, by the mental telescopes he has provided. Thus it is that many
have rejoiced in having the distant brought near to them, and the
confused made clear, without knowing that Jansen was the name of him who
had conferred such benefits upon mankind. The immediate artist, the
latest moulder of an original design, is the one whose skill is extolled
and depended upon; and so it is even already in the case of Coleridge.
It is those only who are intimately acquainted with him who can plainly
see, that it is by the power of vision he has conferred that the really
philosophic writers of the present day are enabled to give views so
clear and deep on the many subjects that now interest the human mind.
All those among modern authors who combine deep learning with an
enlarged wisdom, a vivid and poetical imagination with an acute
perception of the practical and the true, have evidently educated
themselves in the school of Coleridge. He well deserves the name of the
Christian Plato, erecting as he does, upon the ancient and long-tried
foundation of that philosopher's beautiful system of intuitive truths,
the various details of minor but still valuable knowledge with which the
accumulated studies of four thousand intervening years have furnished
us, at the same time harmonizing the whole by the all-pervading spirit
of Christianity.

Coleridge is truly a Christian philosopher: at the same time, however,
though it may seem a paradox, I must warn you against taking him for
your guide and instructor in theology. A Socinian during all the years
in which vivid and never-to-be-obliterated impressions are received, he
could not entirely free himself from those rationalistic tendencies
which had insensibly incorporated themselves with all his religious
opinions. He afterwards became the powerful and successful defender of
the saving truths which he had long denied; but it was only in cases
where Arianism was openly displayed, and was to be directly opposed. He
seems to have been entirely unconscious that its subtle evil tendencies,
its exaltation of the understanding above the reason, its questioning,
disobedient spirit, might all in his own case have insinuated themselves
into his judgments on theological and ecclesiastical questions. The
prejudices which are in early youth wrought into the very essence of our
being are likely to be unsuspected in exact proportion to the degree of
intimacy with which they are assimilated with the forms of our mind.
However this may be, you will not fail to observe that, in all branches
of philosophy that do not directly refer to religion, Coleridge's system
of teaching is opposed to the general character of his own theological
views, and that he has himself furnished the opponents of these peculiar
views with the most powerful arms that can be wielded against them.

Every one of Coleridge's writings should be carefully perused more than
once, more than twice; in fact, they cannot be read too often; and the
only danger of such continued study would be, that in the enjoyment of
finding every important subject so beautifully thought out for you,
natural indolence might deter you from the comparatively laborious
exercise of thinking them out for yourself. The three volumes of his
"Friend," his "Church and State," his "Lay Sermons," and "Statesman's
Manual," will each of them furnish you with most important present
information and with inexhaustible materials for future thought.

Reid's "Inquiry into the Human Mind," and Dugald Stewart's "Philosophy
of the Mind," are also books that you must carefully study. Brown's
"Lectures on Philosophy" are feelingly and gracefully written; but
unless you find a peculiar charm and interest in the style, there will
not be sufficient compensation for the sacrifice of time so voluminous a
work would involve. Those early chapters which give an account of the
leading systems of Philosophy, and some very ingenious chapters on
Memory, are perhaps as much of the book as will be necessary for you to
study carefully.

The works of the German philosopher Kant will, some time hence, serve as
a useful exercise of thought; and you will find it interesting as well
as useful to trace the resemblances and differences between the great
English and the great German philosophers, Kant and Coleridge. Locke's
small work on Education contains many valuable suggestions, and Watts on
the Mind is also well worthy your attention. It is quite necessary that
Watts' Logic should form a part of your studies; it is written
professedly for women, and with ingenious simplicity. A knowledge of the
forms of Logic is useful even to women, for the purpose of sharpening
and disciplining the reasoning powers.

Do not be startled when I further recommend to you Blackstone's
"Commentaries" and Burlamaqui's "Treatise on Natural Law." These are
books which, besides affording admirable opportunities for the exercise
of both concentrated and comprehensive thought, will fill your mind with
valuable ideas, and furnish it with very important information. Finally,
I recommend to your unceasing and most respectful study the works of
that "Prince of modern philosophers," Lord Bacon. In his great mind were
united the characteristics of the two ancient, but nevertheless
universal, schools of philosophy, the Aristotelic and the Platonic. It
is, I believe, the only instance known of such a difficult combination.
His "Essays," his "Advancement of Learning," his "Wisdom of the
Ancients," you might understand and profit by, even now. Through all the
course of an education, which I hope will only end with your life, you
cannot do better than to keep him as your constant companion and
intellectual guide.

The foregoing list of works seems almost too voluminous for any woman to
make herself mistress of; but you may trust to one who has had extensive
experience for herself and others, that the principle of "Nulla dies
sine linea" is as useful in the case of reading as in that of painting:
the smallest quantity of work daily performed will accomplish in a
year's time that which at the beginning of the year would have seemed to
the inexperienced a hopeless task.

As yet, I have only spoken of philosophy; there is, however, another
branch of knowledge, viz. science, which also requires great
concentration of thought, and which ought to receive some degree of
attention, or you will appear, and, what would be still worse, feel,
very stupid and ignorant with respect to many of the practical details
of ordinary life. You are continually hearing of the powers of the
lever, the screw, the wedge, of the laws of motion, &c. &c., and they
are often brought forward as illustrations even on simply literary
subjects. An acquaintance with these matters is also necessary to enter
with any degree of interest into the wonderful exhibitions of mechanical
powers which are among the prominent objects of attention in the present
day. You cannot even make intelligent inquiries, and betray a graceful,
because unwilling ignorance, without some degree of general knowledge of
science.

Among the numerous elementary works which make the task of
self-instruction pleasant and easy, none can excel, if any have
equalled, the "Scientific Dialogues" of Joyce. In these six little
volumes, you will find a compendium of all preliminary knowledge; even
these, however, easy as they are, require to be carefully studied. The
comparison of the text with the plates, the testing for yourself the
truth of each experiment, (I do not mean that you should practically
test it, except in a few easy cases, for your mind has not a sufficient
taste for science to compensate for the trouble,) will furnish you with
very important lessons in the art of fixing your attention.

"Conversations on Natural Philosophy," in one volume, by a lady, is
nearly as simple and clear as the "Scientific Dialogues;" it will serve
usefully as a successor to them. It is a great assistance to the memory
to read a different work on the same subject while the first is still
fresh in your mind. The sameness of the facts gives the additional force
of a double impression; and the variation in the mode of stating them,
always more striking when the books are the respective works of a man
and of a woman, adds the force of a trebled impression, stronger than
the two others, because there is in it more of the exercise of the
intellect, that is, on the supposition that, in accordance with the
foregoing rules, you should think over each respective statement until
you have reconciled them together by ascertaining the cause of the
variation.

I shall now proceed to those lighter branches of literature which are
equally necessary with the preceding, and which will supply you with the
current coin of the day,--very necessary for ordinary intercourse,
though, in point of real value, far inferior to the bank-stock of
philosophic and scientific knowledge which it is to be your chief object
to acquire. History is the branch of lighter literature to which your
attention should be specially directed; it provides you with
illustrations for all philosophy, with excitements to heroism and
elevation of character, stronger perhaps than any mere theory can ever
afford. The simplest story, the most objective style of narrative, will
be that best fitted to answer these purposes. Your own philosophic
deductions will be much more beneficial to your intellect than any one
else's, supposing always that you are willing to make, history a really
intellectual study.

Tytler's "Elements of History" is a most valuable book, and not an
unnecessary word throughout the whole. If you do not find getting by
heart an insuperable difficulty, you will do well to commit every line
to memory. Half a page a day of the small edition would soon lay up for
you such an extent of historic learning as would serve for a foundation
to all future attainments in this branch of study. Such outlines of
history are a great assistance in forming the comprehensive views which
are necessary on the subject of contemporaneous history: a glance at a
chart of history, or at La Voisne's invaluable Atlas, may be allowed
from time to time; but the principal arrangement ought to take place
within your own mind, for the sake of both your memory and your
intellect. Such outlines of history will, however, be very deficient in
the interest and excitement this study ought to afford you, unless you
combine with them minute details of particular periods, first, perhaps,
of particular countries.

Thus I would have Rollings Ancient History succeed the cold and dry
outlines of Tytler. Hume's History of England will serve the same
purpose relatively to the modern portion; and for the History of France,
that of Eyre Evans Crowe imparts a brilliancy to perhaps the most
uninteresting of all historic records. If that is not within your reach,
Millet's History of France, in four volumes, though dull enough, is a
safe and useful school-room book, and may be read with profit
afterwards: this, too, would possess the advantage of helping you on at
the same time, or at least keeping up your knowledge of the French
language.

It is desirable that all books from which you only want to acquire
objective information should be read in a foreign language: you thus
insensibly render yourself more permanently, and as it were habitually,
acquainted with the language in question, and carry on two studies at
the same time. If, however, you are not sufficiently acquainted with the
language to prevent any danger of a division of attention by your being
obliged to puzzle over the mere words instead of applying yourself to
the meaning of the author, you must not venture upon the attempt of
deriving a double species of knowledge from the same subject-matter: the
effect of the history as a story or picture impressed on the mind or
memory would be lost by any confusion with another object.

Sir Walter Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather" are the best history of
Scotland you could read: Robertson's may come afterwards, when you have
time.

Of Ireland and Wales you will learn enough from their constant
connection with the affairs of England. Sismondi's History of the
Italian Republics, in the Cabinet Cyclopedia, the History of the Ottoman
Empire, in Constable's Miscellany, the rapid sketches of the histories
of Germany, Austria, and Prussia, in Voltaire's Universal History, will
be perhaps quite sufficient for this second class of histories.

The third must enter into more particular details, and thus confer a
still livelier interest upon bygone days. For instance, with reference
to ancient history, you should read some of the more remarkable of
Plutarch's Lives, those of Alexander, Caesar, Theseus, Themistocles, &c.;
the Travels of Anacharsis, the worthy results of thirty years' hard
labour of an eminent scholar:[80] the Travels of Cyrus, Telemachus,
Belisarius, and Numa Pompilius, are also, though in very different
degrees, useful and interesting. The plays of Corneille and Racine,
Alfieri, and Metastasio, on historical subjects, will make a double
impression on your memory by the excitement of your imagination. All
ought to be read about the same time that you are studying those periods
of history to which they refer. This is of much importance.

The same plan is to be pursued with reference to modern history. The
brilliant detached histories of Voltaire, Louis XIV. and XV., Charles
XII., and Peter the Great, ought to be read while the outlines of the
general history of the same period are freshly impressed on your memory.
The vivid historical pictures of De Barante are to be made the same use
of: he stands perhaps unrivalled as an objective historian.

Shakspeare's historical plays are the best accompaniment to Hume's
History of England. Our modern novels, too, will supply you with rich
and varied information, as to the manners and characters of former
times. They are a very important part of our literature, and ought to be
considered essential to the completion of your circle of study. That
they also may be rendered as useful as possible, they should be read at
the same time with the entirely true history of the period to which they
refer.

From history, I have insensibly glided into the subject of works of
fiction, one which perhaps previously requires a few words of apology;
for the strong recommendations with which I have pressed their study
upon you may sound strangely to the ears of many worthy people. In your
own enlightened and liberal mind, I do not indeed suspect the
indwelling of any such exclusive prejudices as those which forbid
altogether the perusal of works of fiction: such prejudices belong,
perhaps, to more remote periods, to those distant times when title-pages
were seen announcing "Paradise Lost, translated into prose for the
benefit of those pious souls whose consciences would not permit them to
read poetry."[81] This latter prejudice--that against poetry--seems, as
far as my observation extends, to be entirely forgotten. Fiction in this
form is now considered universally allowable; and some conscientious
persons, who would not allow themselves or others the relaxation of a
novel of any kind, will indulge unhesitatingly in the same sort of
love-stories, rendered still more exciting through the medium of poetry.
Most women, unfortunately, are incapable of carrying out the argument
from one course of action into another, or even of clearly
comprehending, when it is suggested to them, that whatever is wrong in
prose cannot be right in poetry. In a general way you will be able to
form your own judgment on this subject, by observing how much safer
prose-fiction is for yourself at times, when your feelings are excited,
and your mind unsettled and exhausted. A novel, even the most trifling
novel of fashionable life, if it has only cleverness sufficient to
engage your thoughts, would be, perhaps, a very desirable manner of
spending your time at the very period that poetry would be decidedly
injurious to you. Indeed, at all times, those who have vivid
imaginations and strong feelings should carefully guard and sparingly
indulge themselves in the perusal of poetic fictions.

If it were possible, as some say, to study poetry artistically alone,
contemplating it as a work of art, and not allowing it to excite the
affections or the passions, there is no kind of poetry that might not be
enjoyed with safety in any state of mind: it is doubtful, however,
whether any work of art ought to be so contemplated. Its excellence can
only be estimated by the degree of emotion it produces; how then can an
unimpassioned examination ever form a true estimate of its merit? When
such an inspection of any work of art can be carried through, there is
generally some fault either in the thing criticized or in the critic;
for the distinctive characteristic of art is, that it is addressed to
our _human_ nature, and excites its emotions. In the words of the great
German poet:--

Science, O man, thou sharest with higher spirits;
But art thou hast alone.

Pure science must be the same to all orders of created beings, but, as
far as our knowledge extends, the physical organization of humanity is
required for a perception of the beauties of art: therefore physical
excitement must be united with mental, in proportion as the work of art
is successful. Do not then hope ever to be able to study poetry without
a quickened pulse and a flushing cheek; you may as well leave it alone
altogether, if it produces no emotion. It must be either rhyme and no
poetry, or to you poetry can be nothing but rhyme.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18