Originally published in Howitt's Journal (William Lovett) vol.1 #14 (03 Apr 1847).
Songs for the Nursery (Scottish). Glasgow: David Robertson.
New Nursery Rhymes. By J. Trenhaile. London: Renshaw and Kirkman.
The Tiny Library. 3 vols. London. C. Wood.
The Illustrated Juvenile Library. Parts I. & II. London: Berger.
The Boy's own Library. Vol. I. The Boy's Summer Book. By Thomas Miller. London: Chapman and Hall.
We are very fond of children and children’s books, and nothing makes us happier than to have plenty of them about us—both children and books. We know by the first line or two, let it be prose or let it be verse, as well as the children themselves, whether the book is good for anything. There is, we can assure our readers, a great deal of art and skill—or perhaps art and skill are not the right words—for it is something beyond either of these which is required in writing for children. You must not be too wise, else you become tedious and unintelligible, and then the child either goes to sleep, or cares nothing about you; you must not be too simple and trivial, else he will despise you; nor must you have any pretence or humbug of any sort about you, for the child is a cunning little imp, a quick discerner of spirits, and will soon find you out.
Singleness of heart, love, and just as much learning as will keep you in advance of the child, while you go hand in hand with it, are the true requisites in writing for children; and if you have a spice of fun in you all the better; for while children love a pathetic story, they love still better to be made cheerful and happy. Above all things, in a child’s book, do we eschew too much talk about religion; a child is not a sectarian, nor a polemic—at the same time no human beings are so fitted to receive and understand the true spirit of unpretending real religion as little children. The beautiful, thinking-no-evil life of a loving, innocent, happy child is a perpetual hymn to the Almighty; the child praises him in its single-minded joyousness, in the flowers it plants in its little garden, in the birds it feeds with the crumbs that fall from the table, in its ready pity for the poor and the distressed, in the confidence and faith it has in the word of its mother, and in its tenderness for its younger brothers and sisters. Alas that the environment of ill-regulated tempers, thinly-disguised falsehood, many a petty weakness, and many a master vice, should so soon sully the brightness of the young spirit which comes to us with more affinity to good than evil; which comes to us, as Wordsworth says, trailing clouds of glory, from God which is its home.
But, however, to return to our books: the truest way to teach a child religion is not through books, but to encourage its own genuine love of all which is lovely, and pure, and good; to let it find happiness in works of love and goodness, and let it feel and know that by these it proves its great and glorious kinship to God. For the rest, make the child as happy as you can; let its books be cheerful rather than learned; let them have a pure, loving, healthy spirit, for then they are full of the spirit of the child,—and fear not, anxious mother, who wouldst that thy child should be a prodigy of erudition and piety—the spirit of the teacher will be in the books, though neither thou nor the child may be at the moment aware of it.
Let us now examine the little books before us, and see how far they come up to our standard:—
Songs for the Nursery.—A very nice little book, and full of the right spirit, but, being in the Scottish dialect, it can never become popular in England; however, there is no fear of the race of children becoming extinct north of the Tweed, and to them the book will be always acceptable. We select with pleasure the following excellent little poem, which we earnestly advise all parents to read:—
Precept and Example.
AIR—"John Anderson, my Jo."
Let precept and example
Aye hand in hand be seen,
For gude advice is plenty,
And unco easy gi'en;
And bairnies in the uptak'
Ye ken are seldom slow,
So aye, whate'er advice ye gi'e,
A gude example show.
They're gleg at imitation,
As ilka ane may ken:
The lassies a' would women be—
The laddies would be men;
So lead them kindly by the hand
The road that they should go,
And aye, whate'er advice ye gi'e,
A gude example show.
And should you promise aught to them,
Ave keep your promise true,
For truth a precious lesson is
That they maun learn frae you;
And ne'er reprove a naughty word
Wi' hasty word or blow,
But aye, whate'er advice ye gi'e,
A gude example show.
And so to home-born truth and love
Ye'll win ilk bonnie bairn,
For as they hear the old cock craw,
The young are sure to learn:
They'll spurn at mean hypocrisy,
Wi' honest pride they'll glow,
And bless the parents' watchfu' care,
Wha gude example show.
New Nursery Rhymes. By J. Trenhaile.—A very successful imitation of the charming nonsense verses which were sung to children when the age was younger than it is now, and which will be sung when it is much older. There is not a child in England from two to sixyears old, which would not be delighted to hear over and over again the pretty verses in this little book, all about cats and mice, and such like familiar creatures.
The Tiny Library.—This little and very cheap work has been a favourite with us since its commencement. It contains perhaps an over proportion of information, but we have seen what favour it finds in the eyes of our own household juveniles, and we defer to their judgment. We cordially recommend it to the notice of the good genii of every fireside, be they grandmothers or grandfathers, aunts or uncles, elder brothers or sisters, or the well-known, long-renowned, beneficent god-mothers, for they cannot make a prettier birthday or holiday present than the three nicely-bound little volumes of this Tiny Library.
The Illustrated Juvenile Library.—This too is a cheap and promising little work. The variety of information which it contains is great, and the cuts with which it is plentifully supplied are very good, many of them designed by first-rate artists, and well engraved by Mr. Mason. The story of greatest pretension in the work, Blanche Weston, is the one least to our taste; it is not exactly suited to the juvenile reader, and in this consists a great mistake; there is, however, much good useful matter without this.
The Boy's Summer Book. By Thomas Miller.—This is the first volume of what is intended to be a very comprehensive scheme, and which, if it fulfil the promise it starts with, will, to use the words of its prospectus, delight the boys with its beauty, and delight them with the tales it shall tell. It is to comprise stories of peril and adventure, travels in strange lands, voyages over far distant seas, dangers braved by courage, difficulties overcome by perseverance, lives of good and great men, pleasing records of walks in the country, curious habits of birds and insects. It is to embrace histories of the fine arts, wonderful inventions, descriptions of the works of nature, memorials of imprisonment, interesting narratives of strange and terrible convulsions, cities buried by volcanoes or swallowed up by earthquakes, etc. Here is promise enough to entice the man as well as the boy, and as an earnest of the good work which is to follow, the first volume of the Boy's own Library is a book of Summer in the Country, written by our old friend Thomas Miller, who is very capable of the task, for he knows the country well. The book is very pleasant reading, and will doubtless be a great favourite with the boys; but we question whether the author would not have done well to have omitted such stories as that of the boy who set the two poor old deaf neighbours by the ears. Children are tyrannical and mischievous, more generally from want of thought than from evil propensity; and we think the spirit of joyful participancy in which such pranks are told, will nullify the cold moral at the end. The book, however, with this exception, is as fresh and healthy as the woods, and meadows, and river-sides, which it deals with; and, spite of its too great resemblance to William Howitt's Boy's Country Book, will, we doubt not, meet with audience fit and not few. A word or two must be said of the manner in which it is got up; nothing can be more beautiful, and, at the same time, substantial; it is made for use as well as show, and is, considering the vast number of its embellishments, and its really lovely title-page and frontispiece, one of the cheapest books we know.
The Midland Florist, and Suburban Horticulturist. By John Frederick Wood, F.H.S. Parts I. II. and III. London: Simpkin and Marshall; and R. Sutton, Nottingham.
The midland counties have long been noted for their love of flowers and gardens. We know of no place where the spirit of gardening is more universal than at Nottingham. We are glad, therefore, to hail the appearance of this little periodical, which appears to us full of the soundest information on its interesting subject, and deserving of every encouragement.
Extinction of Pauperism. By Prince Napoleon Louis Bonaparte. Fourth Edition. London: Cleave, Shoe-lane.
Prince Louis Bonaparte is far more usefully employed as the author of this little book, and in the means detailed in it for the extinction of pauperism, than his great relative was in his efforts for the extinction of men’s lives. It is full of matter that all who are anxious to rescue their brethren from pauperism—and who are not?—should carefully read. It comes recommended to us by a letter from the poet Beranger, and is inscribed to the Earl of Besborough. It consists only of thirty-three small pages, and we say to all—read it.