to build up the whole nature of man,—to educate first his body, then his character, and lastly his mind.”
The sixteenth century was wedded to the humanistic ideal of education. Without regard for the diversity of avocations, classical culture was held to be the safest and best training for the manifold duties of life. Aristotle’s Politics was considered the wisest utterance on the direction of affairs of state; Cæsar’s Commentaries the safest guides to military eminence; the practical Stoicism of the Latin authors the most infallible basis for ethics and the regulation of conduct; and as for agriculture, had not Virgil written a treatise on that subject? It was clear in the minds of the sixteenth-century humanists that classical culture furnished the best preparation, alike for theologians and artisans.
To accomplish this purpose, as soon as the child was considered sufficiently matured for linguistic discipline, and this varied from the sixth to the ninth years, he was initiated into the mysteries of Latin eloquence. His preliminary training consisted in a verbal study of the Latin grammar for purposes of precision in speech and successful imitation; but, as the grammar was printed in Latin, with its hundreds of incomprehensible rules and exceptions, all of which had to be “learned by heart,” the way of the young learner was, indeed, a thorny one. True, the classical authors were later read, but chiefly for the purpose of gleaning from them choice phrases to be used in the construction of Latin sentences, or for purposes of disputations in dialectics. Logic and history were given most subordinate places in the course of study, the former merely that it might give greater precision
