But Sunday's Coming

Backyard barbecue, 1967. (The giant coffeepot was a must.)

by Anne White 

Our aim in Education is to give a Full Life...Thou hast set my feet in a large room; should be the glad cry of every intelligent soul. Life should be all living, and not merely a tedious passing of time; not all doing or all feeling or all thinking––the strain would be too great––but, all living; that is to say, we should be in touch wherever we go, whatever we hear, whatever we see, with some manner of vital interest. (School Education, p. 170)

About two years ago, Malcolm Guite did a video in which he introduced viewers to the philosopher-critic-professor George Steiner, and read a passage from Steiner's 1991 book Real Presences. For the sake of brevity, I'm going to paraphrase it. "People of many beliefs understand something about both Good Friday and  Resurrection Sunday. The horror of the Crucifixion mirrors the deepest pain of their own lives. The hope of the Resurrection, no small thing even for non-believers, is symbolic of their own 'liberation from inhumanity and servitude,' no matter where they might be looking for that liberation. Friday is so terribly dark that 'even the greatest art and poetry are almost helpless.' And Sunday is so blissfully happy that such things will 'no longer have logic or necessity.' However, it is Saturday, stretching between Friday's 'suffering, aloneness, unutterable waste,' and Sunday's 'dream of liberation, of rebirth,' with which we need to concern ourselves here." In Steiner's own words:

The apprehensions and figurations in the play of metaphysical imagining, in the poem and the music, which tell of pain and of hope, of the flesh which is said to taste of Ash and of the spirit which is said to have the savor of fire, are always Sabbatarian. They have risen out of an immensity of waiting which is that of man. Without them, how could we be patient?

Did you get that? Even for Christians, who celebrate the joy of Sunday and feel the grief of Friday, this human life is made up largely of 

one

LOOOONNNNNNNNNG

Saturday.

And that's okay.

It's exactly because of Saturday that human beings need story, poetry, art, and music. These things arise out of our "immensity of waiting." They represent something we're longing for, hoping for, searching for. At their best, they combine the memory of Friday's suffering with the hope of Sunday's happy ending. 

And when Lucy was tired of eating the Faun began to talk. He had wonderful tales to tell of life in the forest...about feasting and treasure-seeking with the wild Red Dwarfs in deep mines and caverns far beneath the forest floor; and then about summer when the woods were green...Then to cheer himself up he took out from its case on the dresser a strange little flute that looked as if it were made of straw and began to play. And the tune he played made Lucy want to cry and laugh and dance and go to sleep all at the same time." (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by C. S. Lewis)

But don't scoff  at our need for this kind of play and poetry, for the wildness of imagining, for our Beethoven's Sixth Symphony ability to enjoy a picnic on the banks of the river but follow it up with a thunderstorm. The life of "born persons" anticipates the full-on light of Sunday (though seen only in glimpses), and includes the half-remembered darkness of Friday (though we must not succumb to it).

"It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, I know that much. But I can't remember and what shall I do?" And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician's Book. (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, by C. S. Lewis) 

As Steiner said, without this sense of longing, how could we learn patience? (And without understanding that same sense in others, how could we learn empathy?) It is that same longing that makes us attempt to recreate the forgotten story, or to reproduce that beauty we have seen in glimpses.

No, we are not decadent on the whole, and our uneasiness is perhaps caused by growing pains. We may be poor things, but we are ready to break forth into singing should the chance open to us of a full life of passionate devotion. (Philosophy of Education, p. 336) 

(Me with my great-grandmother.)

That Sense of Hairbreadth Escape

The "Mariposa Special" steam train, Orillia, Ontario, 1967

by Anne White 

"Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere, to Baker Street or to Bagdad. But man is a magician, and his whole magic is in this, that he does say Victoria, and lo! it is Victoria. No, take your books of mere poetry and prose; let me read a time table, with tears of pride...You say contemptuously that when one has left Sloane Square one must come to Victoria. I say that one might do a thousand things instead, and that whenever I really come there I have the sense of hairbreadth escape. And when I hear the guard shout out the word ‘Victoria,’ it is not an unmeaning word. It is to me the cry of a herald announcing conquest. It is to me indeed ‘Victoria’; it is the victory of Adam.” (G. K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday)

Certainly the question why one thing follows another must still be answered in Eliot as in Donne, though the answer be more implicit in one than in the other. Neither an emotional nor a musical effect, if it is really such, can be founded on incoherence. This study assumes that poetry as meaning is neither plain sense nor nonsense, but a form of imaginative sense.  (George S. Williamson, A Reader's Guide to T.S. Eliot)

Now, one thing following another is necessary and good, as both of the quotes above point out. But by itself, that is not enough. Quite awhile back, my husband and I watched a T.V. miniseries about shipboard adventures in the early 1800's, very colourful and exciting. Still, it seemed to me  that something was a bit off. At the end, the main character searches for some sort of deep meaning in the voyage, but he is told by another character that it "was not an odyssey...It is, or rather it was, what it was. A series of events." Which raised the question of why we had wasted all that time watching it. 

It turned out that the miniseries was based on a trilogy of novels written in the 1980's, which explained a lot. Some critics have said that the author intended an opposite meaning, that of course the story was more than just a "series of events"; but I believe the speech had its intended effect, bursting any romantic balloons we might have held about the meaning of life or the importance of story. 

A lesson which had laid such literature beside the advertisement and really discriminated the good from the bad would have been a lesson worth teaching. There would have been some blood and sap in it — the trees of knowledge and of life growing together. (C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man)

Maybe Chesterton was right, and we should celebrate the fact that timetables and train tracks help keep the world moving smoothly. But also the equally important truth that story, poetry, art and music, in their best forms, are neither inconsequential nor incoherent, and woe to those debunkers who try to make them so, who drain them of their blood and sap. 

Because in their own way, they also cry "Victoria." 

Catchwords Floating In the Air

"Clouds," by Tom Thomson, 1915; also titled "The Zeppelin(s)" or "Zeppelin, Algonquin Park"

In 1915, Canadian artist Tom Thomson took one of his famous canoeing/creating trips to Ontario's Algonquin Park. More than likely he didn't have any of his usual painting cronies with him, as most of those who would become the Group of Seven were caught up one way or another in World War I. It's never been completely explained why Thomson wasn't in the army (there might have been medical reasons), but it does seem clear that his wilderness trips at that time gave him not only a chance to paint, but also provided an escape from people who assumed he should be more actively involved.  Anyway, with whatever reasons Thomson went off to the wilderness, plus the fact that at least three of his art colleagues were serving in the Canadian military forces, plus the general news of battles (Ypres was a major one in the spring of 1915), it is not that surprising that an oil-on-wood sketch of clouds ended up somewhat resembling German zeppelins; so much so, in fact, that in its first public exhibition (about ten years later) it was titled "The Zeppelin." And the only relevant point about all of that, perhaps, is that people walking through the exhibit would have gotten it. "Zeppelin" was a spring-loaded word.

When I was in university (forty years ago, which is rather terrifying), "postmodernism" was something I was only hearing about for the first time, mostly in literature studies. But media theorist and sociologist Dick Hebdige was already publishing a book that talked about how "postmodernism" was creeping into every part of western culture, somewhat like zeppelins masquerading as clouds:

When it becomes possible for a people to describe as 'postmodern' the décor of a room, the design of a building, the diegesis of a film, the construction of a record, or a 'scratch' video, a television commercial, or an arts documentary, or the 'intertextual' relations between them, the layout of a page in a fashion magazine or critical journal, an anti-teleological tendency within epistemology, the attack on the 'metaphysics of presence', a general attenuation of feeling, the collective chagrin and morbid projections of a post-War generation of baby boomers confronting disillusioned middle-age...the collapse of cultural hierarchies, the dread engendered by the threat of nuclear self-destruction, the decline of the university, the functioning and effects of the new miniaturised technologies, broad societal and economic shifts into a 'media', 'consumer' or 'multinational' phase, a sense (depending on who you read) of 'placelessness' or the abandonment of placelessness ('critical regionalism') or (even) a generalised substitution of spatial for temporal coordinates – when it becomes possible to describe all these things as 'Postmodern' (or more simply using a current abbreviation as 'post' or 'very post') then it's clear we are in the presence of a buzzword.(Hiding in the Light, 1988, quoted in Wikipedia article "Criticism of postmodernism")

I've kept most of that intact just to show how long Hebdige's list was. In other words, he thought the Postmodern Zeitgeist was now everywhere and everything, although that in itself implied that it was running out of Geist. You might be innocently looking at clouds and get fired at by a Postmodernism.

And now? You might not be that worried about Postmodernism, but you can apply the same thinking to just about any other current "ism." When you hear it all the time, you can start to find it everywhere you look.

ALFRED: A lot of bad "isms" floating around this world... (Miracle on 34th Street, 1947 film)

Charlotte Mason suggested a tried-and-true antidote both for those who find themselves obsessing over "isms," and those who would rather ignore them: read. Read wisely. Read widely. Read orderly.

Here, again, we have a reason for wide and wisely ordered reading; for there are always catch-words floating in the air, as,––'What's the good?' 'It's all rot,' and the like, which the vacant mind catches up for use as the basis of thought and conduct, as, in fact, paltry principles for the guidance of a life. (Charlotte Mason, Philosophy of Education, p. 62)

 To misquote Michael Pollan, "Read books. Not too much. Mostly classics."  

And let the clouds be clouds.

For Me

by Donna-Jean Breckenridge

When my oldest daughter Bethany was just about six years old and our 'only,' I had begun using the 'Picture Study' that is one of the many hallmarks of a Charlotte Mason education. Simply put, it's to show a child a print of a great work of art (usually doing around six works of the same artist, over several weeks), letting them see it silently for a minute or two, and then having them, without looking at it, tell back what they've seen. That process is called narration - and that's it. No lecture, no added biography or lessons, no big teaching, just that. The painting speaks to the child. Then the print is usually hung nearby for that next week or so. 

We were doing Rembrandt. I had gotten prints from a respected family-company, and there were some interesting notes that went with it that helped me understand a bit more about Rembrandt. So one day at lunch, which was when we always had Picture Study, I showed her the large print I had gotten of Rembrandt's "Raising of the Cross." 

It's not a happy picture - Christ's nearly naked body is lit up on a diagonal, as the cross is being raised upright. There aren't the usual gashes or streaks of blood, but it's intense, nonetheless. Surrounding the cross, in increasing darkness, there are people - most notable is a man helping to lift the wood in place. He's dressed in clothes that don't fit Bible times - he's got a blue beret, and it's easy to understand that it's a self-portrait. Rembrandt put himself at the scene of the cross as one of the very people who crucified Jesus. It's jarring, haunting, even disturbing, and I admit that I wondered if I was introducing something too intense to my little girl.

There's another dominant figure in the painting - though not as significant as Christ and the self-portrait of Rembrandt. It's a man on a horse - like a centurion - looking official and noble. He's looking directly at the viewer - which is very different, even troubling - and his hand is outstretched. He's got something in his hand - and it appears to be a sword. But - the sword is held backwards - he's extending it hilt side out - so that you, the viewer, would grab it as if to use it yourself. Rembrandt seems to be saying, "I was there, I'm the reason Christ died, my sin is what crucified him - and now take the sword because you're a part of it, too."

Several days after this Picture Study moment, Bethany asked if she could paint. I always felt reluctant to get out the paints - it seemed as though I'd set up the easel in the kitchen, find the paints and brushes, spread newspaper on the floor, and her art time would take less than the time it took me to put it up and clean it afterwards. But that day I didn't make an excuse or try to distract her, and instead I found something else to do (no doubt something I thought was so vital at the time, but probably was very insignificant) while she fussed with her own art time. 

After a little while, I saw her painting. On her own, with garish, bold colors and with stick figures, she painted a kind of narration of Rembrandt's Raising of the Cross. There was Christ, hanging on the tree, and beside him was a little girl, her long yellow braids evident, holding her own sword, with a tearful face. 

The 27-year-old Dutch master had spoken across three hundred and fifty years to help my little girl see her part in Christ's death on the cross. There is no junior Holy Spirit. God speaks to children, too - and uses means we often think are too hard, too difficult, too complicated. 

I've never forgotten that - and the power of the truth of Good Friday. I have sometimes struggled with Good Friday services that focus on intense medical analyses of the torture Christ suffered - but I know I need to hear it. So I sit through whatever is presented, whether the details of the crucifixion, a dramatic or choral portrayal (grateful - or wishing - I was in it), or even an afternoon of the seven last words from the cross (like when I was a kid) - to remember that this is what Jesus did for me. I was there, because I was on His mind. It's all for me. 

I know it from the Gospels, from Rembrandt, and I know it from my own child. 

The Value of The Perception of Beauty

Our FB Group has reached 10,000 members.  By way of celebration, we'd like to share another article from  volume 19 (1908) of the Parents' Review, which is not yet online.

The PR says this article is 'notes of a lecture by R. Catterson Smith.'  We are not told who took those notes, and the only author given is RCS himself.

R. Catterson Smith was a Victorian era artist who worked with William Morris and Burne-Jones on the Kelmscott Chaucer.  He also worked with Heywood Sumner and his group, and for a while was headmaster of Birmingham School of Arts and Crafts:

The History and Philosophy of Art Education, By Stuart Macdonald, page 292

You can read more of Sumner and his work here.

 Here is the article, or rather the 'notes' of his talk (where this talk was delivered, I do not know).  Keep in mind, because it is 'notes' of Catterson Smith' talks, the syntax and punctuation are irregular:

I SHALL say nothing new—I but echo what has been said by Ruskin and others. If new, it might be questioned. An ideal for our children—good, useful, beautiful. The Moral alone not sufficient. The Useful alone not sufficient. The Beautiful alone not sufficient. We want a full life. Do these three form an impossible ideal ? What could we substitute for them ?-— Respectable ? Rich ? Fashionable ? Do not fear high ideals—distrust the man who says “ Utopian ! ” Ruskin.

The brain, a highly sensitive receptacl - hundredth of a second photographic plate not so quick. The five senses are our means of contact with the world outside us. Small inlets, for light waves, sound waves, they are all touch in a way. Each of the senses supplies what the other four are deficient in. But by the combination of the five we get a broad idea of what things are. The eye supplies most of our information. Two of these have great arts dependent upon them—The ear art,  Music. The art of the eye—the resemblant arts, painting, sculpture, architecture, and all the lesser arts.

These arts have taken a prodigious time to evolve and are closely interwoven with human ideals, and must not be lightly thought of, as for amusement only. Each has played a great part in life. The art dependent on the eye, the greater part. I think music being a more abstract, less definite art, though, perhaps none the less potent, we must not forget the fable of the Trumpeter, who though he did not himself fight,  roused the fighting spirit in others by his music. We give a goal deal of the educational period of a child’s life to learning something of music. It is but a ghostly expression of the emotions-- a shadow of them. In teaching it we only teach accuracy of ear and vague feeling. We do not take children to the sea and draw their attention to the wave sounds, or into the woods to hear the Wind’s voice, and the chorus of birds in Spring.  Or make them listen to the modulations of the human voice from the musical point of view.

Though we know these are some of the sources of inspiration for the composer. We deal with the teaching of that art as if it were purely abstract. If it be purely abstract why have we Pastoral Symphonies Moonlight Sonatas, and Harmonious Blacksmiths ? Might we not gain if we studied the natural sounds definitely Composers teach us the unity of sounds embodying human emotions.

Music is not my subject however—I only introduce it to help in illustrating my subject. What I am anxious about is the training of the eye to see things truthfully. By learning first to see things truthfully we acquire the language which will help us to understand artists who will teach us to see things beautifully. Mediaeval artists painted with very limited eye vision. Turner with the very fullest.

Think of the abundance of beautiful things which nature has laid before us. I have often stood in the street to look at a fine sky, and felt inclined to cry out “ Look!” Can we see them without training? So far as the organ of sight goes, yes! But we do not see them consciously, so as get full pleasure from them. Compare the average person’s attempt to paint a leaf, with the trained person’s attempt. The average person is easily satisfied. Not so the trained person who sees more than he can give.

Considering not only what nature has given us to look at. but also the energy and money man spends in making things look nice, should we not spend a good deal of time in learning to appreciate them ?

If you take the general subjects in school you will see sight training is given a very poor place—reading, spelling, writing,  arithmetic, history, languages, geography, music, science- most of these are a burden of words to children. At the end may come drawing for one hour a week, and very often taught  by a teacher who does not know the value of it—-or who takes the value commonly set upon it, and who teaches it in quite the wrong way. Of course other subjects may be contributory to sight. Take Botany for instance. Drawing and painting are the best ways of getting the knowledge of a thing into the brain, We have done too much word-teaching, and should do more sight-teaching. Children usually like drawing and painting and it can be made a pleasant aid to teaching many subjects. Memory drawing is the best way of teaching children drawing. And it is the way they draw by nature. Know first, and draw after. The ordinary teacher who shows them how by doing, but instead should lead them on by exciting their observation. Aim at first hand observation. Show them how a little. Of course teachers should be able to do.

Children ought not to be encouraged in cleverness, so as to shine. Children are very fond of conventions, or clever tricks. These should be discouraged, as they hinder accurate observation. If a child is clever in a showy sense, that cleverness will not forsake it, should it later on become commercially valuable. But restraint is better than cleverness. Truth is what should be sought. It is the grownups who divert the child’s vision from the truth to untruth—or prejudiced vision. People like convention as a rule, often because they don’t know what truth is.

I have been speaking up to this of the getting of the knowledge of the appearance of things. While children are learning that, they may also be coming in contact with Art— i.e., learning to see things beautifully. But it should not be too advanced for them. What does learning to see things beautifully mean? The perception of unity and perfect types. The subject or story of a picture may not mean much—the unity or harmony of it is of greater value-Abraham and Isaac may teach unquestioning obedience to a higher power, but the value of such a picture by a great painter will depend on its unity more than upon its moral.

Looking at these unities continually. Unity enters into the habit of our thought, and we have the key to all the arts, and to the greatest of all arts, the art of life, the blending of all the complexities into one great unity. A hatred of muddle, a desire to have beautiful homes, and beautiful cities, a dislike to change and fashion, a liking for modest and beautiful clothing. The beautiful art of embroidery has been almost killed by the changes of fashion.

I SHALL say nothing new—I but echo what has been said by Ruskin and others. If new it might be questioned. An ideal for our children—good, useful, beautiful. The Moral alone not sufficient. The Useful alone not sufficient. The Beautiful alone not sufficient. We want a full life. Do these three form an impossible ideal ? What could we substitute for them ?-— Respectable ? Rich ? Fashionable ? Do not fear high ideals—distrust the man who says “ Utopian ! ” Ruskin.

The brain, a highly sensitive receptaclemhundredth of a second photographic plate not so quick. The five senses are our means of contact with the world outside us. Small inlets. for light waves, sound waves, they are all touch in a way. Each of the senses supplies what the other four are deficient in. But by the combination of the five we get a broad idea of uhaf things are. The eye supplies most of our information. Two of these have great arts dependent upon them—The ear art. Music. The art of the eye—the resemblant arts, painting, sculpture, architecture, and all the lesser arts.

These arts have taken a prodigious time to evolve. and are closely interwoven with human ideals, and must not be lightly thought of, as for amusement only. Each has played a great pait'in' life'.‘ The art dependent on the eye, the greater part. I think : music being a more abstract, less definite art, though, perhaps none the less potent, we must not forget the table of the Trumpeter, who though he did not himself tight. roused

the fighting spirit in others by his music. We give a goal deal of the educational period of a child’s life to learning something of music. It is but a ghostly expression of the emotions-- 3- Shadow of them. In teaching it we only teach accuracy of ear and vague feeling. We do not take children to the sea and

W -.. We- , WM draw their attention to the wave sounds, or into the woods?)

hear the Wind’s voice, and the chorus of birds in Spring, Or make them listen to the modulations of the human voice from the musical point of view. Though we know these are some 0, the sources of inspiration for the composer. We deal with the teaching of that art as if it were purely abstract. [i it be purely abstract why have we Pastoral Symphonies Moonlight Sonatas, and Harmonious Blacksmiths ? Might' We not gain if we studied the natural sounds definitely Composers teach us the unity of‘sounds embodying humgn emotions. A ,

Music is not my subject however—I only introduce it to help in illustrating my subject. What I am anxious aboutis the training of the eye to see things truthfully—~fully. By learning first to see things truthfully we acquire the language which will help us to understand artists who will teach us to see things beautifully. Mediaeval artists painted with very limited eye vision.» Turner with the very fullest.

Think of the abundance of beautiful things which nature has laid before 115,, I have often stood in the street to look at a fine sky, and felt inclined to cry out “ Look l.” Can we see them without training,p So far as the organ 'of sight goes, yes! But we do not see them consciously, so as get full pleasure from them. Compare the average person’s attempt to paint a leaf, with the trained person’s attempt. The average person is easily satisfied. Not so the trained person who sees more than he can give.

Considering not only what nature has given us to look at. but also the energy and money man spends in making things . look nice, should we not spend a good deal of time in learning * to appreciate them ?

If you take the general subjects in school you will see sight training is given a very poor place—reading, spelling, writing- arithmetic, history, languages, geography, music, sciencea most of these are a burden of‘words to children. At the end may come drawing for one hour a week, and very often taught I by a teacher who does not know the value of it—-or who takes the value commonly set upon it, and who teaches it in quite the wrong way. Of course other subjects may be contributory

to sight. Take Botany for instance. Drawing and painting

are the best ways of getting the knowledge of a thing into the brain, We have done too much word-teaching, and should do more sight-teaching. Children usually like drawing and painting and it can be made a pleasant aid to teaching many subjects. Memory drawing is the best way of teaching children drawing. And it is the way they draw by nature. Know first, and draw after. The ordinary teacher who shows them how by doing, but instead should lead them on by exciting their observation. Aim at first hand observation. Show them how a little. Of course teachers should be able to do.

Children ought not to be encouraged in cleverness, so as to shine. Children are very fond of conventions, or clever tricks. These should be discouraged, as they hinder accurate observa- tion. If a child is clever in a showy sense, that cleverness will not forsake it, should it later on become commercially valuable. But restraint is better than cleverness Truth is what should be sought. It is the grown’ups who divert the child’s vision from the truth to untruth—or prejudiced vision. People like convention as a rule, often because they don’t know what truth is.

I have been speaking up to this of the getting of the knowledge of the appearance of things. While children are learning that, they may also be coming in contact with Art— 110., learning to see things beautifully. But it should not be too advanced for them. What does learning to see things beautifully mean P The perception of unity and perfect types. The subject or story of a picture may not mean much—the unity or harmony of it is of_ greater value-Abraham and Isaac may teach unquestioning obedience to a higher power, but the value of such a picture by a great painter will depend on its unity more than upon its moral.

Looking at these unities continually. Unity enters into the habit of our thought, and we have the key to all the arts, and to the greatest of all arts, the art of life, the blending of all the complexities into one great unity. A hatred of muddle, a desire to have beautiful homes, and beautiful cities, 21 dislike to change and fashion, a liking for modest and beautiful clothing. The beautiful art of embroidery has been almost killed by the changes of fashion.

Without a love and understanding of art, ‘we shall never have beautiful life. Much effort as all know is now being made to improve the look of things, but it is not a general effort. Now to get this understanding time must be given, if you don’t insist upon it you will not get it, for science of some sort, or some other subject will be pushed in front of your children, with the idea of making them more practical citizens.

It may be thought science should hold a high place compared with art. But few of us can indulge in science. While every one of us have eyes and cannot help seeing. But we want instructed seeing.

-------------

I find it delightful that Miss Mason included somebody's notes on a lecture, much as we have highlighted various blogs about our recent conference.  But I find it a bit maddening that she does not say whose notes. I'm inclined to think they are hers, but I am not sure that holds water.

I really appreciate his point at the end- not every child, not every human being is cut out for a career in the sciences, or to 'do science' day to day at home.  Art study is far more accessible to everybody, yet strangely, we tend to considerate it somewhat of an elite subject. Few studies could be less 'elite.'

Edited to add: I don't mean science isn't valuable or important for every child.  I just find it ironic that a subject available to every child who can make a mark on a surface, who can see, or can touch a tree, a stone, a carved bit of wood is considered 'elite.'  Likewise, art and music are deeply human practices.  Every human culture known to us from the dawn of time has engaged in them in some form or other. In our day, the fact that so many consider them dispensable is rather a tragedy.

Family Fun and Culture

by Wendi Capehart

A few years ago I participated in an online discussion with a woman who said that she wanted to work outside the home because her family wanted to provide extra cultural experiences for the children, and that could not be done on most single incomes. I'm not really sure what she meant - she was rather vague about it all. It's possible that the kinds of things she had in mind could not be done on one income. For my family, if it can't be done on one income, then we won't be doing it. But it's surprising what can be done on a limited single income.

Here are some ideas for including culture on a modest income.

Instead of eating out, fix a fancy dinner at home. Set the table with the best dishes and candles. Have everybody dress up and pretend to be eating out, practicing table and restaurant manners.

Invite people over often. Make sure to include interesting, fun people; eccentric, odd people; tourists and immigrants, and unusual people. Include old people with stories to tell and young people with dreams to share. Include missionaries, former and current. Include your minister and the elders of your church. Ask for stories of faith, stories of when God blessed them, and stories of dark days.

Art museums often have free days. Check out the one nearest you. We've often taken advantage of this, even when the museum was an hour or two away. We packed a nice picnic lunch and ate at a park when the weather was nice, in the car on the way home if it wasn't. Always keep your eyes open for free or inexpensive attractions.

We buy a year's family pass to a different attraction each year. It may be the zoo, the children's museum, the children's theater, or the symphony. We can't afford to do them all at once, and with a family our size the cost of a yearly pass is seldom more than it would cost us to get in once, so we choose one each year and immerse ourselves in that one, attending at least a dozen times a year.

Study another country/culture in our homeschool once a year, learning the customs, meals, holidays, and so on, and incorporating something of your studies into your daily lives.

We study art and artists using old art calendars. We hang works by a particular artist each month, discussing the paintings and the artists.

Take advantage of NPR and other radio stations. Listen to classical music all the time, studying the lives of composers at the same time.

Call local colleges and ask if there are any international students who would like a home-cooked meal with an American family.

Volunteer at the nursing home. We have met natives of several different European countries in a small Midwestern nursing home (I won't embarrass myself by trying to spell them).

Read, read, read. Spend lots of time at the local library. Once we lived in a home that was not was not very near to any library. Paying the extra fee for a library card was my birthday present from husband and I loved it.

Every once in a while the older children and I get out the Shakespeare and read it aloud together, each taking a few parts.

My husband chooses a different classic to read aloud to the kidlets at bedtime. He's done Pilgrim's Progress, Farmer Boy, Bread and Butter Indian, some of the Childhood of Famous American books, and many, many more.

Vacations? As a military family every time we moved we tried to make part of the move include visiting an interesting spot. We did stay in two locations for five years each so we took lots of short jaunts to places of historical or environmental interest. We prefer camping to staying in motels (family size, again. With a family this large most hotels want us to pay for two rooms.

Have poetry recitations at home.

Plant a garden, perhaps an historical herb garden.

Collect sea shells, stones, or pressed flowers - label them with their Latin names.

Many libraries in larger cities like Chicago and Boston hold passes to museums and other educational attractions, and sign them out to local residents.

If you live near a college, look into their music and drama productions. Sometimes tickets are very inexpensive. Sometimes you can attend rehearsals for free.

Host a hymn singing.

And, as I said, read, read, read. Discuss what you read together. And then read some more.

Contentious Quote for the Day: Lord Haldane on Economics and Art

" I am absolutely convinced that science is vastly more stimulating to the imagination than are the classics, but the products of this stimulus do not normally see the light because scientific men as a class are devoid of any perception of literary form. When they can express themselves we get a Butler or a Norman Douglas. Not until our poets are once more drawn from the educated classes (I speak as a scientist), will they appeal to the average man by showing him the beauty in his own life as Homer and Virgil appealed to the street urchins who scrawled their verses on the walls of Pompeii.

"And if we must educate our poets and artists in science, we must educate our masters, labour and capital, in art. Personally I believe that we may have good hopes of both. The capitalist's idea of art in industry at present tends to limit itself to painting green and white stripes on the front of his factories in certain cases. This is a primitive type of decoration, but it has, I think, the root of the matter in it. Before long someone may discover that frescoes inside a factory increase the average efficiency of the worker 1.03% and art will become a commercial proposition once more. Even now it is being discovered that artistic advertising often pays. Similarly I do not doubt that labour will come to find that it cannot live by bread (or shall we say bread and beer) alone. But it can hardly be expected to make this discovery until it is assured of its supply of bread and beer."

Daedalus, or, Science and the Future, by Lord Haldane.

An Oyster and a Jewel: Charlotte Mason's 10th Principle

By Caravaggio - Self-scanned, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15219497

The glimmer of a white satin gown is most pronounced when arranged against a dark background. Stars and lightning make no impression in daylight, but against the black velvet of night they rivet our gaze toward heaven and take our breath away. Artists, lacking an English word to capture this artistic concept of the play of light against dark, long ago borrowed the Italian "chiaroscuro" (pronounced KEY-aura-SKU-ro, with a slight trill on the r's).
Charlotte Mason, who loved both art and languages, was most likely familiar with the concept of chiaroscuro, and I believe it often shows in the way she presents her "light" to us. She creates on her canvas a sort of philosophical chiaroscuro, first laying out the dark parts so we may fully apprehend the light.
Herbartianism provides the dark underlayment for the picture Charlotte begins to paint in principle 10, upon which she layers the light of principles 11 and 12. This trio of principles flows from one into the next like streams gathering into a river--Charlotte even punctuated them seamlessly. They convey individual ideas which coalesce to inform a larger idea, as we shall see over the next three weeks--but it all pivots on an understanding of Herbartian doctrine. So in this Part One of our study, we will simply meet the mind of Herbart, to get us on track with Charlotte's train of thought. Then in Part Two, we will explore Charlotte's response to Herbart, and in Part Three we'll consider some ways in which Herbartian doctrine affects us--you and me--even today.

From our own Lynn Bruce's excellent study of Miss Mason's 10th principle, which you can read in its entirety on our website. And if you are wondering why on earth you should care about "Herbartian doctrine" and what it could possibly have to do with you, she answers that question, too. You just might be surprised.