Hints on Child-Training

Hints on Child-Training may be helpful, where a formal treatise on the subject would prove bewildering. It is easier to see how one phase or another of children’s needs is to be met, than it is to define the relation of that phase of the case to all other phases, or to a system that includes them all. Therefore it is that this series of Hints is ventured by me for the benefit of young parents, although I would not dare attempt a systematic treatise on the entire subject here touched upon.

Thirty years ago, when I was yet a young father, a friend, who knew that I had for years been interested in the study of methods of education, said to me, “Trumbull, what is your theory of child-training?” “Theory?” I responded. “I have no theory in that matter. I had lots of theories before I had any children; but now I do, with fear and trembling, in every case just that which seems to be the better thing for the hour, whether it agrees with any of my old theories or not.”

Whatever theory of child-training may show itself in these Hints, has been arrived at by induction in the process of my experiences with children since I had to deal with the matter practically, apart from any preconceived view of the principles involved. Every suggestion in these Hints is an outcome of experiment and observation in my life as a father and a grandfather, while it has been carefully considered in the light of the best lessons of practical educators on every side.

These Hints were begun for the purpose of giving help to a friend. They were continued because of the evident popular interest in them. They are sent out in this completed form in the hope that they will prove of service to parents who are feeling the need of something more practical in the realm of child-training than untested theories.

H. Clay Trumbull.
Philadelphia, September 15, 1890.

The term “training,” like the term “teaching,” is used in various senses; hence it is Hable to be differently understood by different persons, when applied to a single department of a parent’s duties in the bringing up of his children. Indeed, the terms “training” and “teaching” are often used interchangeably, as covering the entire process of a child’s education. In this sense a child’s training is understood to include his teaching; and, again, his teaching is understood to include his training. But in its more restricted sense the training of a child is the shaping, the developing, and the controlling of his personal faculties and powers; while the teaching of a child is the securing to him of knowledge from beyond himself.

It has been said that the essence of teaching is causing another to know. It may similarly be said that the essence of training is causing another to do. Teaching gives knowledge. Training gives skill. Teaching fills the mind. Training shapes the habits. Teaching brings to the child that which he did not have before. Training enables a child to make use of that wiich is already his possession. We teach a child the meaning of words. We train a child in speaking and walking. We teach him the truths which we have learned for ourselves. We train him in habits of study, that he may be able to learn other truths for himself Training and teaching must go on together in the wise upbringing of any and every child. The one will fail of its own best end if it be not accompanied by the other. He who knows how to teach a child, is not competent for the oversight of a child’s education unless he also knows how to train a child.

Training is a possibility long before teaching is. Before a child is old enough to know what is said to it, it is capable of feeling, and of conforming to, or of resisting, the pressure of efforts for its training. A child can be trained to go to sleep in the arms of its mother or nurse, or in a cradle, or on a bed; with rocking, or without it; in a light room, or in a dark one; in a noisy room, or only in a quiet one; to expect nourishment and to accept it only at fixed hours, or at its own fancy, — while as yet it cannot understand any teaching concerning the importance or the fitness of one of these things. A very young child can be trained to cry for what it wants, or to keep quiet, as a means of securing it. And, as a matter of fact, the training of children is begun much earlier than their teaching. Many a child is well started in its life-training by the time it is six weeks old; even though its elementary teaching is not attempted until months after that.

There is a lesson just at this point in the signification of the Hebrew word translated “train” in our English Bible. It is a noteworthy fact, that this word occurs only twice in the Old Testament, and it has no equivalent in the New. Those who were brought up in the household of Abraham, “the father of the faithful,” are said to have been “trained” (Gen. 14: 14). A proverb of the ages gives emphasis to a parent’s duty to “train up” his child with wise considerateness (Prov. 22: 6). And nowhere else in the inspired record does the original of this word “train,” in any of its forms, appear.

The Hebrew word thus translated is a peculiar one. Its etymology shows that its primary meaning is “to rub the gullet;” and its origin seems to have been in the habit, still prevalent among primitive peoples, of opening the throat of a new-born babe by the anointing of it with blood, or with saliva, or with some sacred liquid, as a means of giving the child a start in life by the help of another’s life. The idea of the Hebrew word thus used seems to be that, as this opening of the gullet of a child at its very birth is essential to the habituating of the child to breathe and to swallow correctly, so the right training of a child in all proper habits of life is to begin at the child’s very birth.

And the use of the word in the places where we find it, would go to show that Abraham with all his faith, and Solomon with all his wisdom, did not feel that it would be safe to put off the start with a child’s training any later than this.

Child-training properly begins at a child’s birth, but it does not properly end there. The first effort in the direction of child-training is to train a child to breathe and to swallow; but that ought not to be the last effort in the same direction. Child-training goes on as long as a child is a child; and child-training covers every phase of a child’s action and bearing in life. Child-training affects a child’s sleeping and waking, his laughing and crying, his eating and drinking, his looks and his movements, his self-control and his conduct toward others. Child-training does not change a child’s nature, but it does change his modes of giving expression to his nature. Child-training does not give a child entirely new characteristics, but it brings him to the repression and subdual of certain characteristics, and to the expression and development of certain others, to such an extent that the sum of his characteristics presents an aspect so different from its original exhibit that it seems like another character. And so it is that child-training is, in a sense, like the very making of a child anew.

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