XXI. EXPERIENCES OF HUMAN CONDUCT. XXII. EXPERIENCES OF THE NATURAL WORLD XXIII. EXPERIENCES OF MATHEMATICAL TRUTHS XXIV. EXPERIENCES BY MEANS OF DOING. XXV. EXPERIENCES OF THE LIFE OF MAN XXVI. EXPERIENCES RECORDED AND PASSED ON XXVII. THE THINGS THAT REALLY MATTER. BIBLIOGRAPHY INDEX PART I THE CHILD IN THE NURSERY AND KINDERGARTEN CHAPTER I "WHAT'S IN A NAME?" It is an appropriate time to produce a book on English schools for little children, now that Nursery Schools have been specially selected for notice and encouragement by an enlightened Minister for Education. It was Madame Michaelis, who in 1890 originally and most appropriately used the term Nursery School as the English equivalent of a title suggested by Froebel[1] for his new institution, before he invented the word Kindergarten, a title which, literally translated, ran "Institution for the Care of Little Children." [Footnote 1: Froebel's _Letters_, trans. Michaelis and Moore, p. 30.] In England the word Nursery, which implies the idea of nurture, belongs properly to children, though it has been borrowed by the gardener for his young plants. In Germany it was the other way round; Froebel had to invent the term _child garden_ to express his idea of the nurture, as opposed to the repression, of the essential nature of the child. Unfortunately the word Kindergarten while being naturalised in England had two distinct meanings attached to it. Well-to-do people began to send their children to a new institution, a child garden or play school. The children of the people, however, already attended Infant Schools, of which the chief feature was what Mr. Caldwell Cook calls "sit-stillery," and here the word Kindergarten, really equivalent to Nursery School, became identified with certain occupations, childlike in origin it is true, but formalised out of all recognition. How a real Kindergarten strikes a child is illustrated by the recent remark from a little new boy who had been with us for perhaps three mornings. "Shall I go up to the nursery now?" he asked. The first attempt at a Kindergarten was made in 1837, and by 1848 Germany possessed sixteen. In that eventful year came the revolution in Berlin, which created such high hopes, doomed, alas! to disappointment. "Instead of the rosy dawn of freedom," writes Ebers,[2] himself an old Keilhau boy, "in the State the exercise of a boundless arbitrary power, in the Church dark intolerance." It must have been an easy matter to bring charges of revolutionary doctrines against the man who said so innocently, "But I,--I only wanted to train up free-thinking, independent men." [Footnote 2: Author of _An Egyptian Princess_, etc.]