While each textbook series became
progressively less pious, received ideas were regularly promoted over critical
thinking. As textbooks are specifically
designed to transmit ideas to a new generation, this is only natural. Thus McGuffey included such patriotic
selections as Joseph Rodman Drake’s “The American Flag” (“Majestic monarch of
the cloud!”) [4] and Washington Irving’s encomium on Columbus which describes
him as a great and pious “genius” possessing “magnanimity of spirit” who took a
benevolent view of America’s indigenous people [5]. “The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers” by F. W.
P. Greenwood finds “not a single community of men to be compared with them, in
the respect of deep religious impressions and an exact performance of moral
duty” [6]. These words were doubtless
studied in classrooms displaying American flags and portraits of a founding
father or two.
On the topic of Native Americans, the
reader includes an excerpt from a speech by Charles Sprague which declares that
America’s aborigines have all “passed away,” Europeans having arrived “bearing
the seeds of life and death.” According
to Sprague time has “blotted forever from [the American continent] a whole,
peculiar people.” “As a race, they have
withered from the land,” he says, and “read their doom in the setting
sun,” With a sentimental tear, he
reflects on a future when they will “be remembered “only in the songs and
chronicles of their exterminators” [7].
Though the role of religion in education
was already beginning its steady decline, McGuffey included a number of religious
readings such as “God is Everywhere” by Joseph Hutton, an early nineteenth
century poet [8] now obscure, and the Thirty-Seventh Psalm [9]. There are in addition a good many more
vaguely spiritual readings, meant for students’ moral improvement. Many selections required considerable
historical background, such as Charles James Fox’s “A Political Pause,” an
impassioned fragment from a polemic
about the war with France [10] or the exchange between Walpole and Pitt [11],
included more as show-pieces of oratory than for the specific issues involved.
The verbal sophistication of many literary
selections, though, must be for a modern reader the most striking aspect of
McGuffey’s book. Eleven-year-olds were
given great chunks of Shakespeare, Bacon, Milton, Dryden, Thomson, and Cowper
as well as American authors like Longfellow, Bryant, and Emerson without
simplification or even the explanatory notes an undergraduate textbook would
include today. Children (and even
teachers) may not have wholly understood everything they read, but they would
certainly improve their reading skills with such challenging selections. At any rate, all the texts in McGuffey’s are
adult literature while in contrast, a survey of novels recommended for sixth
graders by teachers’ groups and publishers today reveals that virtually all readings
are now written specifically for children.
There are only a very few exceptions.
A Jack London story made one list, and many have highly regarded young
adult titles, such as Anne Frank’s diary and works by Judy Blume and Scott
O’Dell, but the editors seem to think that writers like Poe, Mark Twain, and de
Maupassant would be too difficult or perhaps too irrelevant for today’s
students.
Declamation, both speech-making and
reading literary selections aloud, though virtually absent from today’s
curricula, is a significant concern of McGuffey’s. As a preparation for the readings, the first
sixty pages of the book cover viva voce articulation, inflection, accent
and emphasis. Indeed the introductory
notes mention “elocutionary value” as one of the standards by which readings
were selected. This is all but the last
gasp of the ancient rhetorical rhetorician’s education set forth in Cicero,
Quintilian, and the Rhetorica ad Herennium. As late as the middle twentieth century, many
college-bound students enhanced their resumés with Debate Club and Moot
Court. In my high school’s talent show
during the early ‘sixties, one boy, a talented actor, thought it appropriate to
recite Oliver Wendell Holmes’ comic “One-Hoss Shay,” for his schoolmates. I doubt that many would consider such a
performance today.
In the nineteenth century the general
population read poems aloud in their parlors as a form of home
entertainment. They also relished fine
oratory from clergymen and politicians.
In addition they often purchased subscriptions to courses of evening
lectures on a variety of topics. The
thrill our ancestors felt at hearing soaring rhetoric is today a specialized
taste; more Americans are excited today by watching cars crash through windows
in action movies than by verbal pyrotechnics.
Thus leaders’ statements on the news are soundbites rather than speeches
and, when readers encounter high-flown language, they are more likely to lose
the thread of discourse than to admire the author’s virtuosity. The pedagogues of writing now stress clarity
and brevity at the expense of beauty and emotional force.
This abandonment of training in speaking
or reading aloud marks a major change in the teaching of English. The aesthetic and affective potential of
artful writing is likely to be more prominent in the spoken word, but it has
been discounted in favor of the mere delivery of information. By ignoring writers of the past in favor of
those that more directly reflect the lives of the students, educators have abandoned
the opportunity to widen readers’ perspectives while incidentally developing
their taste. In a curious way, in verbal
art, both spoken and written, thanks to McGuffey my Midwestern ancestors in
their one-room schools may have been more sophisticated than today’s teen whose
eyes rarely leave his phone. Having taught
English 101 a good many times, I can testify that many students reach college
with abysmal verbal skills. In today’s
educational initiatives STEM subjects have an unquestioned lead. Those who care about the English language
might feel a bit nostalgic for the these quaint old readers.
1. The speller was published in 1783, a grammar
1784, and a reader in 1785). The reader
was to sell a hundred million copies.
See https://noahwebsterhouse.org/noahwebsterfactsheet/.
2. These sold 120 million copies. See “William
Holmes McGuffey and His Readers,” The Museum Gazette, National Park
Service https://web.archive.org/web/20150420113537/https://www.nps.gov/jeff/learn/historyculture/upload/mcguffey.pdf.
3. Whereas McGuffey’s had taught phonics, The
Scott, Foresman Dick, Jane, and Sally books used whole word recognition.
4. P. 119.
The author died in 1820 at the age of twenty-fiove. Antonín Dvořák thought enough of the poem to
set it to music.
5. P. 192.
To Irving he had as well “a poetical temperament,” though he was also “irascible
and impetuous.”
6. P. 223.
7. P. 209, from a speech delivered at Boston in
observance of the Fourth of July, 1825 titled “The Character and Extirpation of
the Indians of New England.” Charles
Ives thought highly enough of his words to set some to music in his 114
Songs.
8. P. 161.
Hutton was a playwright as well.
The Psalm is on p. 189.
9. P.
67. Apart from poetry Woodworth wrote operas,
plays, hymns, and the first American historical novel The Champions of
Freedom, or The Mysterious Chief, A Romance of the Nineteenth Century, Founded
on the Events of the War, Between the United States and Great Britain, which
Terminated in March, 1815 (1816).
His best-known work, though, is "The Old Oaken Bucket" (1817)
which, set to music by George Kiallmark, became a popular song and was recorded
in 1899.
10. P. 102.
The headnote cautions that “his morals were not commendable.”
11. P. 151-152.
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