Transcribed from the 1889 Macmillan and Co. edition ,email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
To my son Grenville Arthur, and to his school-fellows at Winton House
This little book is dedicated.
My dear boys,—When I was your age, there were no such children’sbooks as there are now. Those which we had were few and dull,and the pictures in them ugly and mean: while you have your choice ofbooks without number, clear, amusing, and pretty, as well as reallyinstructive, on subjects which were only talked of fifty years ago bya few learned men, and very little understood even by them. Soif mere reading of books would make wise men, you ought to grow up muchwiser than us old fellows. But mere reading of wise books willnot make you wise men: you must use for yourselves the tools with whichbooks are made wise; and that is—your eyes, and ears, and commonsense.
Now, among those very stupid old-fashioned boys’ books wasone which taught me that; and therefore I am more grateful to it thanif it had been as full of wonderful pictures as all the natural historybooks you ever saw. Its name was Evenings at Home; andin it was a story called “Eyes and no Eyes;” a regular old-fashioned,prim, sententious story; and it began thus:—
“Well, Robert, where have you been walking this afternoon?”said Mr. Andrews to one of his pupils at the close of a holiday.
Oh—Robert had been to Broom Heath, and round by Camp Mount,and home through the meadows. But it was very dull. He hardlysaw a single person. He had much rather have gone by the turnpike-road.
Presently in comes Master William, the other pupil, dressed, I suppose,as wretched boys used to be dressed forty years ago, in a frill collar,and skeleton monkey-jacket, and tight trousers buttoned over it, andhardly coming down to his ancles; and low shoes, which always came offin sticky ground; and terribly dirty and wet he is: but he never (hesays) had such a pleasant walk in his life; and he has brought homehis handkerchief (for boys had no pockets in those days much biggerthan key-holes) full of curiosities.
He has got a piece of mistletoe, wants to know what it is; and hehas seen a woodpecker, and a wheat-ear, and gathered strange flowerson the heath; and hunted a peewit because he thought its wing was broken,till of course it led him into a bog, and very wet he got. Buthe did not mind it, because he fell in with an old man cutting turf,who told him all about turf-cutting, and gave him a dead adder. And then he went up a hill, and saw a grand prospect; and wanted togo again, and make out the geography of the country from Cary’sold county maps, which were the only maps in those days. And then,because the hill was called Camp Mount, he looked for a Roman camp,and found one; and then he went down to the river, saw twenty thingsmore; and so on, and so on, till he had brought home curiosities enough,and thoughts enough, to last him a week.
Whereon Mr. Andrews, who seems to have been a very sensible old gentleman,tells him all about his curiosities: and then it comes out—ifyou will believe it—that Master William has been over the verysame ground as Master Robert, who saw nothing at all.
Whereon Mr. Andrews says, wisely enough, in his solemn old-fashionedway,—
“So it is. One man walks through the world with his eyesopen, another with his eyes shut; and upon this difference depends allthe superiority of knowledge which one man acquires over another. I have known sailors who had been in all the quarters of the world,and could tell you nothing but the signs of the tippling-houses, andthe price and quality of the liquor. On the other hand, Franklincould not cross the