What applies to geography applies even more strongly to history, though at a slightly more advanced age, because the sense of time is rudimentary at first. I think history can profitably be begun at about five years old, at first with interesting stories of eminent men, abundantly illustrated. I myself had, at that age, a picture-history of England. Queen Matilda crossing the Thames at Abingdon on the ice made such a profound impression upon me that I still felt thrilled when I did the same thing at the age of eighteen, and quite imagined that King Stephen was after me. I believe hardly any boy of five years old would fail to be interested by the life of Alexander. Columbus perhaps belongs more to geography than to history; I can testify that he becomes interesting before the age of two, at least to children who know the sea. By the time a child is six years old, he ought to be ripe for an outline of world history, treated more or less on Mr. Wells’s or Mr. Van Loon’s lines, with the necessary simplifications, and with pictures, or the cinema if possible. If he lives in London, he can see the strange beasts in the Natural History Museum; but I should not take him to the British Museum before the age of ten or thereabouts. It is necessary to be careful, in teaching history, not to obtrude aspects which are interesting to us until the child is ripe for them. The two aspects which are first interesting are: the general pageant and procession, from geology to man, from savage man to civilized man, and so on; and the dramatic story-telling interest of incidents which have a sympathetic hero. But I think we should keep in our own minds, as a guiding thread, the conception of gradual chequered progress, perpetually hampered by the savagery which we inherit from the brutes, and yet gradually leading on towards mastery of ourselves and our environment through knowledge. The conception is that of the human race as a whole, fighting against chaos without and darkness within, the little tiny lamp of reason growing gradually into a great light by which the night is dispelled. The divisions between races, nations and creeds should be treated as follies, distracting us in the battle against Chaos and Old Night, which is our one truly human activity.