Poetic Knowledge by James Taylor: Chapter 1

(I am reading through _Poetic Knowledge_ with Tim's Mom, and plan to blog about each chapter. Of course I jumped in with both feet this week, and did a regular article on the first chapter. I don't know if I will put this much effort into writing about every chapter, but it seemed important to me to really sift through his "Validity of Poetic Knowledge". This book is a big challenge to me, and I'd like to get started with an attempt to acquire an accurate sense of what he means by poetic knowledge.)

“Music is meant to be experienced. I don’t like all this talking about it.”

So said Mariel Thursday morning after an admittedly fact-heavy composer study—it was our second lesson on Franz Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1, and Triss and I had become absorbed in discovering and writing down tidbits such as the date of composition, what kinds of instruments were in the orchestra, and the name of the conductor at the first performance of the piece, much to Mariel’s consternation. We had the piece playing in the background, and that may have been part of the issue. We were talking over the music.

Mariel was expressing her preference for poetic knowledge, an “essential perception about the human being, about the world, and how we learn about our world,” that too often gets “dumped from the modern educational experience.”* In contrast with most modern educational efforts, poetic knowledge is whole, intuitive and perceptive.

In the first chapter of his book, _Poetic Knowledge_, James Taylor states that the poetic experience is “knowledge from the inside out,” or knowing a thing rather than simply knowing about it. It is a non-analytical, spontaneous awareness that awakens a sense of significance of the thing experienced. As Job stated after the Lord answered his questions with a head-on experience, “I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee.” Such knowledge is whole and integrated, less calculated and mechanical; it often comes on with surprise, as an “a-ha” moment. I doubt anyone could meet with such a learning moment as Job did and take it with an analytical head, coolly dissecting it to bits to figure out everything about the Lord. Some things are meant to be experienced wholly.

I wonder how Job explained his newfound knowledge of the Lord to his friends afterward? Such a wonderful experience would be very difficult to convey in words. Antoine de Saint-Exupery expressed the intuitive nature of some knowledge in his poem, “Generation to Generation”:

If others impart to our children our knowledge
And ideals, they will lose all of us that is
Wordless and full of wonder.

Poetic knowledge, then, is sympathy with the unknowable. Mr. Taylor informs us that his definition of intuition is not “a hunch”, but “the kind of intellectual sympathy by which one places oneself within the object in order to coincide with what is unique in it and consequently inexpressible.”

A few years back a fellow homeschooler talked to me with concern over whether her children should be allowed to read the Chronicles of Narnia books by C.S. Lewis. I tried to communicate the solid sense of godliness I got from the series, which never mentions Christianity or Christ. I ended by saying lamely, “I know there is magic in them, but they are definitely Christian. You have to read them to understand.”

However, I can’t help but think there must be some better way to explain it than my feeble attempts. There is more than one mode of knowing—poetic knowledge is only one of the four which Mr. Taylor introduces in Chapter 1, as defined by one of the professors in the University of Kansas’ Pearson Integrated Humanities Program:

1. Poetic: “truths grasped intuitively, as when you trust another’s love,”

2. Rhetorical: being “persuaded by evidence, but without conclusive proof that we might be wrong, as when we vote for a political candidate,”

3. Dialectical: using two opposing arguments and testing each to reach proof beyond reasonable doubt that one or the other is the right one, and

4. Scientific: “science in the ancient and not the modern sense which is dialectical and rhetorical, but science as *epistemai*-- we reach to absolute certitude as when we know the whole is greater than the part, that motion presupposes agency.”

These modes are different from most modern (and skeptical) schools of thought in that they are founded on first principles: “objective reality impossible to be ‘proved’ by argument because they exist as givens, intuitively known by all”. These were the kinds of knowledge widely accepted before the Renaissance, after which Subjectivism rose into favor and slowly eclipsed belief in absolute truth.

According to Mr. Taylor, “the ancient Greeks considered all education a matter of learning certain arts through imitation—that is, through the poetic impulse to reflect what is already there”. Observation—listening, looking, feeling—is the way to such knowledge. “Poetic experience and knowledge is essentially passive,” says Mr. Taylor. I think what he means here (and I tremble to challenge one of his word choices) is not really passive, but seemingly passive. Giving your full attention to an object is not passive, it only looks that way. As Charlotte Mason stated in her first volume, _Home Education_, “Attention is… the act by which the whole mental force is applied to the subject in hand.” (p. 145) Quite an effort indeed, unless the student has acquired the habit.

But I understand his point: poetic knowledge is perceptive. Listening and looking are the routes to that form of learning. Mr. Taylor refers to Frank Smith’s book, _Insult to Intelligence_, for an example of learning to read in the poetic mode:

One of the leaders in research on how children learn to read, Margaret (Meek) Spencer of London University, says that it is authors who teach children to read. Not just any authors, but the authors of the stories that children love to read, that children often know by heart before they begin to read the story. This prior knowledge or strong expectation of how the story will develop is the key to learning to read, says Professor Spencer.

Not look-say, not phonics, not high-tech aides or methods, but loving a book enough to want to read it over and over. “The child is left alone, undistracted by methods and systems, so that the senses and emotions come naturally into play when being read to, where wonder and delight gradually lead the child’s imagination and memory toward the imitative act of reading.” Is it quantifiable for the teacher or parent? Not for awhile, at least. But is it effective? My, yes. I have often been asked by other parents how to teach reading, and I never can give a satisfactory answer. It is a mystery, I think—a mystery of perception, the parent and child delighting in sharing books until the child is inspired to imitation.

(We have used both phonics and look-say in our home to teach reading, but these aids never eclipsed the joyful reading of books, because I could not give that up, even in my anxiously conscientious efforts to be an excellent teacher. Read good books to your children with joy if you want them to love reading. That’s all I know to say.)

We live in an age that is defined by modern science. Results are wanted, and wanted now. But many times the education we desire for our children is not to be achieved through filling in blanks and checking off lists. It must be experienced in its entirety, from the inside out, perceived, delighted in and gradually reflected back. This is poetic knowledge.

It seems difficult to know if we are on the right track, but is it really? If we are listening and looking ourselves, rather than incessantly demanding "facts" that we can correct and put in the grade book, we may be able to sense, rather than explain, that the children are grasping “all of us that is wordless and full of wonder.”


*All quotes, unless otherwise noted, are from Chapter 1 of _Poetic Knowledge_.

Poetic Knowledge page 22-27

More notes on Chapter 2:

Page 22

In the first place, our senses tell us that things are-- for instance, that fire is hot. They do not tell us why it is hot. That question introduces the scientific or experimental branch of knowledge.

The concept of fire can be isolated into parts that are then analyzed as to why it works the way it does, thereby providing additional knowledge. But this knowledge isn't necessarily a better kind of knowledge than the sensory knowledge of fire, which is the knowledge that enables us to *recognize* a thing as fire when we see it. (I think we can all agree that no matter how much theoretical knowledge you have of fire, if you cannot recognize that a fire is a fire-- the fire-ness of it, so to speak-- when you see it, you are not only severely lacking in knowledge, but may also be a danger to yourself and others!)

Page 23

He gives a new definition for the term gymnastic: "a 'naked wrestling' with reality, unencumbered by microscopes, textbooks or tests."

I begin to see that the terms "gymnastic, poetry, music" can actually be used as adjectives to describe the idea of the poetic mode of learning, which would be "gymnastic, poetic, musical". I wonder if he is going to give a better sense of the adjective "musical". The best I can figure out right now is that since melody and rhythm are imitative of virtues or vices, "musical" as a term to describe instruction would be imitative of virtue. In this way, the heroes in books that inspire us to *be* them-- to sympathize or empathize-- would be musical. This is running right into Triss' and my Volume 4 study, which this week was on Sympathy. Sympathy would be musical. (I wonder if I am getting this or just running on into my own tangent?)

Wisdom: "That mode of knowledge that is in its own right higher than poetic knowledge....the study of things in their causes, a very rigorous, mature, complex discipline for the trained philosopher." (He makes a little note that says there are some instances in which formal training is not necessary to gain this kind of knowledge.)

Now he is talking about the senses, and how the satisfaction of them proves that people have a desire to learn. This is confusing: "The senses, of their own nature, make a proportionate selection of what is pleasant, what is the mean-- not unlike the tale of Goldilocks who finally selected the bowl of porridge that was not too hot, not too cold, but 'just right.' This 'just right' is poetic knowledge..."

Page 24

Sensory discrimination develops eventually into memory, and from there turns into 'experience'. It is the beginning of knowledge.

Now he is talking about 'wonder'. I'm still not quite clear on the idea that delighting the senses is the beginning of knowledge, but I'll move on to 'wonder' with Mr. Taylor, seeing that I am puzzled and wondering myself:

"A man who is puzzled and wonders thinks himself ignorant..."

Wonder is based in "fear produced by the consciousness of ignorance". I have to say I have never thought of wonder in this way before. To me it is too calm to be fear, but maybe I am thinking of anxious fear. He says that since man has a desire to *know*, this ignorance is perceived as a kind of evil, something to be remedied.

He contrasts the modern "Wow!" kind of wonder that we get when we see the laser-light show at Disneyland with the traditional kind of wonder, which he is referring to here. The traditional wonder appears in ordinary things, not in amazing special effects or 3-D.

"Wonder is the most rational kind of fear." Hmm. I'm still not completely convinced about the fear thing.

"Wonder arises, not from ignorance, but from the consciousness of ignorance."

Wonder arises from something unpleasant (consciousness of ignorance), but gives rise to a desire to know and a pursuit of knowledge, which are two pleasant things. They are pleasant because it is right and good for man to want to know and to attempt to find out.

(For some reason I am thinking of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in Genesis. Man's-- and Woman's-- desire to know got him in trouble then!)

"A man imprisoned will find his condition unpleasant, but he will take delight in planning his escape!"

Page 26

I did not understand one sentence on this page. It was about wonder being the beginning of philosophy, but I didn't get it.

(I started reading a different book yesterday, a parent's guide to adolescent neuroscience, and I have to say it was a relief to read that book after struggling almost halfway through Chapter 2 of Poetic Knowledge! This book is *hard*!)

Page 27

He says we get a "breather" now. Whew. Now we will talk about St. Augustine and St. Benedict. Augustine is important because he is a kind of link between the Greco-Roman tradition and the education of the Middle Ages. Benedict is important because he thought deeply about monastic living, and left rules of order that embody the poetic mode of life.

I think I am going to take a break and read this part later.

If You Are Missing the Poetic Mode of Life, Holler, "Aye!"

I had the bright idea yesterday to see what was in the last chapter of _Poetic Knowledge_. I started reading this heady book at the first of the year, but I was stymied by the second chapter (actually the first, but I was a little stubborn and refused to admit it until the second). I set it down months and months ago.

It is the kind of book that fits well into a day of hurry-up-and-wait, containing meaty insights that beg contemplation in every sentence. I carried it with me yesterday as we went from class to p.e.-type activity to class to doctor's office to clothing store, and read from it whenever I had a moment. I started again at the intro, and then, because I found the philosophical foundations so difficult to digest last go-round, I decided to see how the book ended. In Chapter 7, the author (James S. Taylor) gives ideas on how to apply the poetic mode to various subject-areas. I often have to be shown some outworks before I understand how the principles fit into place. Here are some quotes I highlighted from the introduction and the last chapter:

P. 2 "A Teflon spatula is useful, at least for a Teflon pan; but a wooden ladle, of curved and smoothed wood, is not only useful but beautiful. The first is scientific, in the modern sense, reduced to its most base utilitarian level... while the second tool is crafted from the poetic mode of life."

P. 4 "Is poetic knowledge and education possible in a society given over to the mere practical and utilitarian ends of life?"

P. 4 "Poetic knowledge is a kind of natural, everyman's metaphysics of common experience. It is a way of restoring the definition of reality to mean knowledge of the seen and unseen."

P. 169 "...Put as simply as possible, science sees knowledge as power; poetic knowledge is admiratio, love."

Poetic Knowledge Chapter 2

I have my book and I have my chocolate, and I am attempting to understand the philosophical foundations of poetic knowledge.

It ain't easy. This may simply be a list of definitions and things I don't understand. But I'm going in anyway.

(Mr. Honey brought me a glass of cold milk to fortify and sustain me through the effort. Here goes.)

Page 11

I have only read bits of Plato's Republic. I don't remember Plato disliking poetry and stories. It seems he didn't dislike them exactly, but only wanted to be careful that poetry and stories did not misrepresent God.

(For some reason I keep hearing the Fox from _Till We Have Faces_: "Lies of poets, lies of poets, child.")

Page 12

"Socrates could not have proposed The Republic..." what does that mean? I thought Plato wrote it. Did Socrates make the suggestion to him? Why have I not learned more about philosophy?

In The Republic, Socrates offers the first systematic theory of education.

(Okay, I looked up The Republic. I had Socrates and Plato mixed up-- I thought Plato was the teacher, but he was really the student of Socrates. Silly me. I did know that much at one time in the past. Just for my own future reference, it goes Socrates, Plato, Aristotle. Got it?

Wikipedia mentions 'the conflict between philosophy and poetry' as one of the topics found in The Republic.)

Now he's talking about Homer, who came before Socrates, and is considered the first educator of Greece. I think.

(I should have learned all this in college so I could just absorb what Mr. Taylor is trying to get at now. Oh, the waste.)

"...poetry, and all art, for the Platonic-Aristotelian tradition, was considered "a means of real and valuable knowledge, a knowledge of the permanent things."

(I can tell my lack of a mental ancient history timeline is going to be a hindrance in this chapter.)

Page 13

There is an order to knowledge-- and it begins with the poetic. How to explain the poetic? "Without the observance of this order, one can 'produce' pianists who can perfectly play the notes of the great composers, without playing the music..."

A transcendent vision of reality. Hmm. Transcendent means "beyond or outside the ordinary range of human experience or understanding."

Page 14

He starts explaining some aspects of the Odyssey here, and segues into a discussion of the word, 'school,' which is from the root skola, meaning 'leisure'. He says that we have virtually lost the true meaning of the word, 'leisure'. We either have work or entertainment, and entertainment is *not* the same as leisure. Oh, wait. He didn't say anything about entertainment. I must have remembered that from some other source. He is talking about the difference between the scientific and poetic ideas of education-- the poetic requiring a sense of leisure, and the scientific requiring effort, work, proof.

I get this theoretically, but the effort has to be there, too, doesn't it? "The intellect requires a moral impulse, and we all stir our minds into action the better if there is an implied 'must' in the background." (Charlotte Mason)

Okay, he does talk about entertainment-- he calls it the quest to have 'fun'.

Page 15

(I'm engaging in a leisure activity right now. No one has told me I have to read and understand this book. I'm moving through it at my own pace, which is likely to be a lot slower than I thought it would be at first.)

In The Republic, poetry, either as art or "as the spirit of teaching through music and gymnastics", is Plato's chosen method of beginning education for the guardians. (Who are the guardians? And I didn't realize gymnastics was poetic.)

I'm not completely getting it, but I just love this part:

"Thus, a tradition of learning that began with Homeric epics as models of imitation in virtue and delight are now taken up for serious reflection and discourse under the genius of the West's first philosopher. [That's Plato, right?] All of the educational experiences detailed in The Republic for the child-- songs, poetry, music, gymnastic-- area meant to awaken and refine a sympathetic knowledge of the reality of the True, Good, and Beautiful, by placing the child inside the experience of those transcendentals as they are contained in these arts and sensory experiences."

Page 16

The "modern mechanical view of growth" is when your parents say to you, "Katie, you are too old for that," and want to move you to the next level, "lopping off the one behind as inferior."

I think he is talking about discarding educational things, not discarding childish habits like forgetting to brush your hair or leaving your belongings scattered. For instance, saying, "That's a baby book. You don't need to read books like that anymore." In the more Socratic view, he says education is viewed more as the rings of a living, growing tree-- things are added on to what is already there and nothing is discarded.

It seems to me that you would have to start with good quality stuff if you didn't want to have to tell your child, "That's a baby book" later on. For instance, I wouldn't tell my kids not to read Wind in the Willows or The House at Pooh Corner or the Beatrix Potter books. I still get a lot out of those books myself.

In The Republic (which I so need to read) Socrates goes on to talk about how important it is to limit the student's view of sculpture, the music listened to, etc., to those things that elevate the character of the individual and reflect true beauty. (I don't totally get this, and what I do understand about it leaves me extremely frustrated with our current culture.)

Page 17

Taylor points out briefly that Confucious also put music forth as a means of preserving character in individuals.

In the next paragraph he totally loses me.

'Cartesian' means having to do with Descartes, a 17th century philosopher who is considered the father of modern philosophy. He discarded perception as a reliable means of knowing, and favored deduction instead.

Hee hee, Mr. Taylor says that Plato's Idealism rests on a very knowable, objective reality... but that Cartesian philosophers simply dismiss it as 'no longer correct' rather than attempting to disprove it as a theory. This means they aren't using their own scientific method to prove or disprove Plato's theory. I don't really get the philosophy of all of it, but isn't it funny that the scientific philosophers say, "Oh no, that isn't the fashionable position"?

Very unscientific of them.

Page 19

Okay, it looks like we are getting to Aristotle. There is a little discussion on how Aristotle disagreed with Plato about the Forms. I do know about this for some reason. Aristotle said students do not need Forms-- they can draw the essence of the thing from the thing itself. "How can Ideas, being the substance of Things, exist apart [from those things]?"

Very strange. I am reading about bread-ness:

"The essence of bread, for example, is grasped intuitively by the mind regardless of the sensory "accidentals" of color, shape and so on, and in this way the universal idea of bread, its bread-ness, is achieved. Realist philosophy [meaning Aristotle, I think] says that the invisible life, the form, is in the thing, not elsewhere. It is simply in the nature of the mind, the soul, to correspond with this invisible reality. Aristotle says in De Anima that 'the soul is in a way all existing things; for existing things are either sensible or thinkable, and knowledge is in a way that is knowable, and sensation is in a way that is sensible.'"

In this paragraph, "sensible" means 'able to be sensed'.

Page 19-20

Socrates (Plato) and Aristotle agree that virtue is the end of education, and that it must be achieved in a poetic way.

Here he talks more about leisure and I quote:

"...the idea that real education requires a certain contemplative spirit (leisure) has persisted. It is in leisure (skole) that we prepare for an active life of virtue, and, in the experience of music, a species of leisure, we gain our first touch through the sensory-emotional (poetic) mode, of our final purpose, which i to experience happiness, a resting from activity, a return to where we began, to a state of repose: leisure."

This reminds me of the purpose stated in our church's covenant:

"We believe our sole purpose is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever."

He says:

The poetic precedes the scientific.
The passive precedes the active.

Page 21

Now he comes to the importance of Music. Let's see if I can figure it out.

The kind of music is important because "virtue consists in rejoicing and loving aright." Rhythm and melody imitate virtues and the opposites of the virtues. (I have to say here that I enjoy this aspect of music so much. It helped me a lot in my teen angst years to be able to come home from a rough day at school and just play for a couple of hours. I had stormy pieces and gentle pieces, etc., and it was more than therapy for me. I wish we had a dedicated music room in our current home, because I can see my children needing this outlet, but it isn't always practical for them to be playing their little hearts out in the main room. We are thinking of getting earplugs.)

"There seems to be in us a sort of affinity to musical modes and rhythms, which makes some philosophers say that the soul is a tuning, others, that it possesses tuning." (Aristotle)

(It is interesting to realize that Aristotle's music and what we consider to be great music nowadays were probably somewhat different. After all, Bach and Mozart hadn't been born yet. I don't know that I have ever heard any music in the ancient Greek tradition.)

More on this later.

What the Girls are Reading

Here are the books the girls are reading this term for school. This list excludes any textbooks or workbooks-- for instance, Triss has textbooks and/or workbooks in Latin, Spanish, Math, Grammar and Science. This list contains just the book books. Also, I didn't list books that they were reading and have already finished, or are planning to start reading in the next month. This is a current list. And the books are read slowly, over a period of months. (Some of the books are read over a period of years.) I put an asterisk by the books I am reading with them.

Cornflower:

*Burgess Animal Book
*Pagoo by Holling C. Holling
*The Little Duke by Charlotte Yonge
*Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame (actually, Triss is reading this with her)
*Our Island Story (history of England) by H.E. Marshall (She is reading the Middle Ages right now, so we have only done one chapter in her U.S. history book, and will do one more before the end of the school year. She will begin her U.S. history book in earnest next fall. She has read or had read to her several biographies of famous Americans in the past two years.)
*Child's History of the World by V.M. Hillyer

Mariel (She is doing a almost all of her reading on her own. The books I marked with asterisks are books I read with her sometimes, except the character study, which we are completing entirely together.):

This Country of Ours (U.S. History) by H.E. Marshall
*The Story of King Arthur and His Knights by Howard Pyle
*Isaac Newton by Harry Sootin
A Passion for the Impossible by Miriam Huffman Rockness
Abraham Lincoln's World by Genevieve Foster
Book of Marvels (Orient) by Richard Halliburton
Age of Fable by Bulfinch
*A Girl of Beauty (character study) by Carol Fiddler

Triss:

*Utopia by Sir Thomas More
The Voyage of the Armada by David Howarth
*The New World by Winston Churchill
The Life of Dr. Donne by Izaak Walton
*Ourselves (self-government) by Charlotte Mason
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
The poetry of John Donne
*How to Read a Book by Mortimer Adler
*From Dawn to Decadence by Jacques Barzun (For the record, I thought this was too much, but she really wanted to read it, so we are reading it aloud together)
English Literature for Boys and Girls by H.E. Marshall
Discovery of Muscovy by Richard Hakluyt
Diary of Samuel Pepys (edited)

Books we are all reading together:

Pilgrims Progress
Old Testament (2 Kings and 2 Chronicles currently, with a prophet thrown in every so often)
New Testament (Gospel of Luke)
Love's Labours Lost by William Shakespeare
The poetry of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (although I am thinking of switching to Eugene Field and letting Mariel read more of the longer Longfellow poems on her own. She has already read "Hiawatha," "The Courtship of Miles Standish," and "Evangeline". She loves Longfellow.)
The Life of Theseus by Plutarch

And because I love reading and am a glutton for punishment, I am currently reading:

The One Year Bible (KJV)
Seeking the Face of God by Gary L. Thomas
Poetic Knowledge by James S. Taylor
Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
College-Prep Homeschooling by David P. Byers, Ph.D. and Chandra Byers (I have only skimmed this one, but it's high on my list.)
Assorted Parent's Review Articles (This is for our mom's book club-- our current assignment is Repressed Initiative in Children, Parts 1 and 2. For Javamom: I am very excited about this topic, and no, I haven't started it yet. ;o) I'm finishing up a narration of the first chapter of Poetic Knowledge right now, but I hope to have it at least skimmed through by tomorrow afternoon.)

I Resolve To...

I feel myself being drawn back to the Elizabeth George books that helped me so much when I was beginning as a mom of three. I had to set them aside for awhile, because it got to where I was legalistic about the systems she recommends in her books. (I'm sure she wouldn't have any of us be dedicated to her systems to the exclusion of the moving of the Holy Spirit in our lives. But that is what happened to me.) I have a Tennyson quote in my sidebar that talks about how our little systems are but broken lights that reflect the Lord for a time, and then cease. When systems cease to reflect the Lord, or when they begin to take their own form as god, they must be discarded.

Awhile back, I got very frustrated with systems and did away with a lot of them, until I realized how scattered and ineffective I was becoming. I don't want to live in fear that we will fall off of a system, but we do have to meet goals and deadlines in this life.

I am seeking the balance of planning and awaiting the leading of the Holy Spirit. This requires constant prayer, rather than the seeking of systems. I have tried many, and they all have their good points. What does the Lord want me to do?

Funny thing about the Lord: very often He only shows us the very next step. So I have become wary of making one time of year the Designated Time of Resolutions.

I like a good resolution as much as the next person, though, so here are some things I am aiming for:

1. Read the entire Bible this year. I have tried this for two years and failed.

2. Stay connected with my husband and kids. And I don't mean cell phones.

3. Less ordering and more communication (from me to the kids)

4. To see a renewal of joy (not that I think I will be in charge of making this happen, but it needs to go on the list so I can pray about it and aim for it)

5. More decisions made on the basis of what is best for our family in particular, or our kids individually, rather than based on what we think other people expect.

6. Continued focus on getting out of debt, even if 2009 turns out to be as much of a challenge as many seem to think it will be.


I really don't know what else to write-- I'm in more of a listening and waiting mode right now. Or it could be that I just don't feel good. I have a pretty bad cold.

I can write a book list, though. I have some books I want to read in the next few months. (I finished Watership Down today, in between sleeping and blowing my nose. A very good book. The AO Advisory did a great job picking it for Year 7. I'm still thinking of Woundwort's final decision to go for power at all costs rather than what was best for his warren, and how amazed they were when they found Thlayli was not the chief rabbit. They just didn't get the idea of liberty, did they?)

Anyway, here are some books I want to read:

1. Seeking the Face of God by Gary Thomas

2. Poetic Knowledge by James Taylor

3. Mothers and Daughters at Home by Charlotte Lyons (a book of projects-- I want to do some of them)

4. The Voyage of the Armada by David Howarth (I am halfway through this)

5. From Dawn to Decadence by Jacques Barzun (through Part 1-- I started it this summer, and then restarted it this fall with Triss)

6. I want to reread Wind in the Willows with Cornflower (it will be her first time through)

7. I want to reread Kim by Rudyard Kipling with Mariel (it will be her first time through)

8. Hard Times by Charles Dickens (I really need to read something Dickens besides A Christmas Carol. Something I read in the first part of Poetic Knowledge yesterday evening reminded me that he is making more of a statement about society than just how badly off are the poor. Something about how terrible it is to assume man is similar to a machine. Or some such thing. I need to see if I agree. But I find Dickens off-putting.)


I know the list will continue to grow as the year goes on. I usually have a huge stack of books I want to get through by the middle of summer, the result of me trying to quickly read through all of Triss' schoolbooks before the new school year starts. But I am not ready to look at those yet. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, you know.

Scientio and Poetry

I am reading further into the book _Poetic Knowledge (Ch. 2 this time), and at this point, I perceive that we ought to desire the poetic and the material in balance-- Mr. Taylor relates the poetic to the soul, and the material to the body, stating that we are composite beings-- only whole when we are integrated as to body and soul. He does not reject the material (ie., scientio, reason), but says that it eclipsed the poetic (ie., wonder, leading to contemplation, and then joy) in Modern society. (The ideas of Transcendentalism might be a response to the extreme of rational thought excluding the poetic-- attempting correction but moving too far the other direction.)

If we reject the material and cling only to the poetic, we become like the Gnostics, who said everything material was evil, and this is not the case, as John explains in his Gospel-- Jesus is fully man and fully God, and we are fully material (man) and fully poetic (soul). Whether we live out that seeming dichotomy is another question.

As Mr. Taylor points out in his book, the intellect not only possesses "the ability to abstract essences from material objects to form concepts-- essentially a spiritual act-- but there is a function of the intellect that can be stimulated to elaborate on these concepts and abstract ideas, analyzing them, and so on."

The marriage of poetry and science. Amazing.

Additional Thoughts on Chapter 2

Poetic Knowledge p. 11-21

We begin to see what we want. Children make large demands upon us. We owe it to them to initiate an immense number of interests. Thou hast set my feet in a large room; should be the glad cry of every intelligent soul. Life should be all living, and not merely a tedious passing of time; not all doing or all feeling or all thinking––the strain would be too great––but, all living; that is to say, we should be in touch wherever we go, whatever we hear, whatever we see, with some manner of vital interest. We cannot give the children these interests; we prefer that they should never say they have learned botany or conchology, geology or astronomy. The question is not,––how much does the youth know? when he has finished his education––but how much does he care? and about how many orders of things does he care? In fact, how large is the room in which he finds his feet set? and, therefore, how full is the life he has before him? I know you may bring a horse to the water, but you cannot make him drink. What I complain of is that we do not bring our horse to the water. We give him miserable little text-books, mere compendiums of facts, which he is to learn off and say and produce at an examination; or we give him various knowledge in the form of warm diluents, prepared by his teacher with perhaps some grains of living thought to the gallon. And all the time we have books, books teeming with ideas fresh from the minds of thinkers upon every subject to which we can wish to introduce children. (CM Series Vol. 3 p. 170-171)

Somewhere I read that we ought to educate children using things (objects) and ideas. Where was that?

"We live, not by things, but by the meanings of things." Antoine de Saint Exupery

I'm thinking of the poetic mode, the passive and intuitive that precedes the scientific and active, as kind of like letting a kid just enjoy herself using paints, rather than directing her in how to do it. Which is fine as far as it goes, but I wonder how that fits in with the development of good habit? To develop good habits, you want to do a thing right the first time if at all possible, right? So if we are letting our children just experience the paint-ness of paint at first, then they aren't developing the skill at holding the brush, applying paint, etc.

Maybe he addresses this later in the book. Or maybe I am thinking about it wrong. If you have the love and trust of a child, correcting her in the midst of a new process does not have to take away pleasure.

What Are They Measuring?

I have been thinking a lot about standardized testing this year-- where I think it falls in terms of usefulness, whether it is something we ought to participate in, etc. I have also felt the allure of the possibility of 'knowing' whether we are 'doing it right' in terms of educating the children. I don't like wondering about stuff like that. I do like being able to easily quantify value and progress.

In the midst of this wondering (and waffling back and forth between 'just get the testing' and 'what is it measuring, anyway?') I have also pondered the fact that the Texas education authorities are directly responsible for inserting inane questions about the color of Willie Nelson's bandanna into defensive driving courses, thereby effectively distracting folks like me, who were seriously attempting to absorb the material before realizing that they expect us to focus on clothing at least as much as driving principles.

Anyway, I have looked at the TAKS tests more than once this year, and actually had my older two girls take the math and reading tests for their grade level (they did exactly as well as I expected them to). Triss' grade level also has history and science tests, and I have wondered whether to even bother with those. When I looked at the history test, it was chock full of in-depth factual questions on American history and government. Triss is currently at the period of the Mayflower in her second trek through history, the first having been an overview taking six years. In the past two years, she has gone through the fall of Rome, the Dark and Middle Ages and the Renaissance and Reformation. We are going in depth into the American Revolution and American government next year.

She has learned a lot about the foundations of American government in the past two years, by which I mean she has learned about English Common Law, the struggle between 'might is right' and 'right is right', the amazing questions concerning the divine right of kings and the rights of individuals to liberty and property, the struggles between a state that enforces worship practices and individuals who desire to follow the dictates of conscience. She has read Sir Thomas More's Utopia, and can now recognize expressions of the desire for a perfect society.

I don't know how much of that has 'stuck' and how much she has simply had her 'historic atmosphere warmed'. But I feel like the past two years have been extremely worth it. She has a sense of history she wouldn't have gotten from simply memorizing the date of the Magna Charta and Henry VIII's break with the Catholic Church.

At the same time, I feel dates and facts are important. But they are of less importance than having a sense of where we come from. I would really like to learn how to emphasize these more fact-oriented aspects of history without taking away from the enlarging sense of connection between other eras and our own. How to do that?

Anyway, back to the standardized tests. There is no point to me giving Triss the 8th grade TAKS history test, because she hasn't gone that in-depth into American history and government yet.

Or has she?

The test measures a knowledge of dates and document titles, but perhaps does not measure in-depth knowledge necessary to a broad understanding of American history and government. This is the quandary in which I often find myself while thinking of standardized testing. What are they measuring? Is it really important? Is it *as* important as what we are studying? And how are these tests going to help me in my decision-making processes?

Perhaps they are valuable simply as a way of knowing that if something happened to prevent us homeschooling, the kids would be able to take a place with their age-mates in the public schools. At this point, I wonder if they would have a Sissy Jupe experience, were they to set foot in school, knowing all about the essence of a horse (or a nation, in our case), but little about its scientific classification.** Is that kind of thinking profitable, or is it a waste of energy, trying to have a foot in both camps? We do need to remember dates as well as understand ideas, but how much effort should be expended in drilling dates that don't stick when reading narratives? And which dates are equivalent to Willie Nelson's bandanna and can safely be ignored, except when studying for *required* standardized tests? (Not that any testing is required in Texas. It isn't at this point. But I am thinking of college entrance exams, too.)

I am no closer to understanding or reaching conclusions than when I started. But at least you, my twelve readers, now know that these thoughts continue to revolve in my mind.

*This post was inspired by a quote posted by Lindafay, as well as the following books:

Hard Times by Charles Dickens
Poetic Knowledge (only the first three chapters) by James S. Taylor
various parts of the CM volumes

**(Don't worry, Dad, we have been studying dates, too. I am just not seeing those "stick" the way I think they should. Yes, I realize I am a perfectionist. Love you. Thanks for watching my back. ;o)

Teaching the Love of Beauty

"But we, believing that the normal child has powers of mind which fit him to deal with all knowledge proper to him, give him a full and generous curriculum; taking care only that all knowledge offered him is vital, that is, that facts are not presented without their informing ideas." CM Principle #11

The words of Socrates noted earlier-- "the object of education is to teach us to love what is beautiful"-- are, of course, informing Aristotle's entire position here. The beauty of "right judgments," the "delight in good dispositions and noble actions," the "pleasure" of virtue itself, all form a portrait of ancient education that has unfairly been narrowed and isolated by modern audiences as solely rational. Yet, all character excellence and virtue are here prepared with the most thoughtful of sensory and emotional experiences, which represents a clear expression of knowledge in the poetic mode.

_Poetic Knowledge_. page 21-22

(Emphasis mine-- a little note of connection. What happens when the rigor of a classical education is divorced from its informing idea-- that the love of beauty is the object of education?)

Link Likes: Primogeniture, Credentialism and the Limits of Training

An interesting analysis on primogeniture, for those of you who have daughters that are questioning the reasons for the practice, prominent in Jane Austen novels, of entailing property to the oldest son. This has been a real sticking point for my kids, and I haven't been able to explain it very well, as it is a sticking point for me too. The explanation in the above post makes a lot of sense, although Triss and I agree that primogeniture works much better in a society in which the women are allowed, encouraged to, even applauded for seeking gainful employment when necessary.

(There is a small example of the contrast in one chapter of the novel, Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott, in which Jo and Meg are looked down upon by a young lady from England, because they contribute to their family's income, and are glad to do so. I remember Mr. Brooke talking about how that independence was not applauded in England at that time, but was more appreciated in America.)

A pertinent post on the limitations of habit training. Willa's points help me reconcile habit training with the idea of poetic knowledge.

A post, found via Sierra Highlands, answering critical questions regarding homeschooling. This especially resonated with me, as I was subjected to some rather intense questioning by the director of the regional science fair, dealing with whether it is responsible for parents to homeschool their children and whether they might be teaching them misconceptions in the area of science. The ironic thing is that the questioning came *after* my exclusively schooled-at-home child scored highly enough in the regional competition, along with children from public, private and science magnet schools, to be invited to the state competition. She has never had a science teacher besides uncertified ol' me. Unfortunately, I didn't hold up very well under the director's questioning, and ended up saying some things I regret. :sigh: So this post helped me plan for next time.

Books, Books, Books, Books

I read The Time Machine for the first time this weekend. (Weird, really weird, and interesting to contemplate the views of a late 19th century author on progress. And obviously, based on the theory of Evolution. In a bizarre way, it also fell in with mine and Triss' current reading of Utopia by Sir Thomas More, which was written in the early 1500s and is an odd book in and of itself.)

I also read Jahanara: Princess of Princesses, India, 1627, on the recommendation of Triss, who was fascinated at the look at a different culture. (I think The Royal Diaries series is helpful for getting a little bit of girl's-view on history. We turned to these last year when Triss came to me-- it was in the midst of her study of the Middle Ages-- and said, "I want to read some history that is not about fighting, please!" One caution: they delve into mature themes at times, so be careful about letting your younger girls read them.)

And I started reading Oliver Twist again this week. Triss and I started it about three years ago, made it through Chapter 10, and then stopped. We are going to read it aloud with Mariel beginning in about a month, and I thought I would preread it with this in mind, since I have never made it all the way through. (I am putting off the reading of Rudyard Kipling's Kim, which I had thought we would do first.)

Cornflower and I started reading Wind in the Willows this week. I just adore that book. It looks like Triss is going to be reading some of it to Cornflower too, which is great, but I enjoy the book so much that I am a little jealous. ;o)

I have not picked up Poetic Knowledge since Christmas break, but I do want to start reading it week by week-- Maybe half a chapter per week?

I have made it three chapters through Seeking the Face of God, and am currently reading and rereading the third chapter, which is entitled "Training the Body and Soul". I am going to read it until I absorb it.

I'm keeping up with my Daily Bible readings, and, Lord willing, hope to make it past January 17th, which will be around three weeks into the new year. And then I hope to make it all the way to February, because, as we know, a habit that has been developed over the period of a month is one that can be kept as like as not. After that I intend to read all the way to next Christmas, but I am not looking that far ahead yet.

I'm really determined to make it through Leviticus this time. I am reading the OT aloud to myself to help with concentration, but so far I am only in Genesis, and there is a lot of narrative in that book, which is easier for me to stay focused on. I have been carrying the book around, reading a few verses when I have a moment, and forming questions in my mind. It is starting to come easier. But the last two days, I haven't finished my daily reading until after supper, and it is harder to persevere at that time than during the day.

Various and sundry bits of news...

I haven't written on the blog for a while. We are still here, but have a lot going on. Tonight, the Warrior Poet has taken the kids to their activity, and I have been given a luxurious five and three-quarter hours of silence at home in which to fold laundry, print lesson plans for literature class, read over my kids' narrations, correct their math and science, and listen to the gerbil shred cardboard.

It is just enough time to rejoice in, without being so long that I get lonely for them.

The latest news:

Cornflower played violin in her first orchestra concert last week. She is getting so big.

All three girls are currently participating in a production of The Magical Land of Oz (or some such name-- it is version of "Wizard of Oz"). The rehearsal schedule is beginning to get to me.

I have thirteen piano students this year, and I just love teaching them. I am also taking piano lessons every so often from a wise older woman in the next town over. She is so encouraging!

My mom is retiring in January. I can't wait. We are going to have so much fun...

My kids are studying Years 10, 7 and 4 this year. I love studying history. Churchill (Birth of Britain) isn't so difficult the second time around. And in Year 10, Aravis and I are gaining insight into the world of the 1800s-- I thought I understood that world pretty well, but I missed a lot.

I have put off my reading of Poetic Knowledge and Norms and Nobility again. I don't think I have enough background in the ancients to know how they line up with the Bible and how they do not. So I am reading more about the ancients right now. I will dip back into those books in the next couple of months, probably during Christmas, and see whether they make more sense. I was really floundering.

The girls like to help with different things during Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I like to know ahead of time whether someone had set her heart on helping with the gnocchi or the pie. Otherwise, I invariably start the mixing/roasting/baking process without the interested girl being present. I asked the kids to sign up this year, so I don't forget. They write down what they would like to help with, and I make sure it is on the menu and that I involve them in the cooking process. And I do not lose the sign-up sheet. That's the theory, anyway. If we lose the paper, we can always make another one...

Ivanhoe Notes: Intro through Chapter 4

I consider Sir Walter Scott's novel, Ivanhoe, an excellent introduction to the higher levels of reading often required for high school and college. The story itself is not complicated. It is a simple romantic adventure in which good triumphs over evil. The language is complex, but not as challenging as some of Scott's other works. There is some dialect, as well as a few archaic words, but it is simpler than, say, Rob Roy. Most importantly, the story is vital and compelling enough to hold a student's attention, to make him want to work through the language.

I wrote this reading guide in 2010 as help for a co-op class I taught on Ivanhoe. Some of the students did not have the English history emphasis that AO provides. Therefore, I included a lot of background info. An AO student steeped in English history will most likely make these connections on his own or with the help of light scaffolding from the parent/teacher.

The best use of this guide would be for the parent to read the notes herself and reference them with her student *only as necessary* to enhance the student’s enjoyment of the novel. (We want the student to remember Sir Walter Scott with fondness...)

*And one more caveat: It is also perfectly okay to read Ivanhoe without some kind of study guide. I am only providing this for people who want something more.* The following quote exemplifies the atmosphere in which we should enjoy challenging books:

The Wart did not know what Merlyn was talking about, but he liked him to talk. He did not like the grown-ups who talked down to him, but the ones who went on talking in their usual way, leaving him to leap along in their wake, jumping at meanings, guessing, clutching at known words, and chuckling at complicated jokes as they suddenly dawned. He had the glee of the porpoise then, pouring and leaping through strange seas.

(More thoughts on Unabashed Enjoyment.)

There. I feel better. I want to share the things I have learned, but I don't want people to feel beaten down with details.

I will be posting the guide (in sections) over the next week or so. Eventually, I will have all the posts linked in my sidebar. I hope the guide helps parents, especially those that might not otherwise attempt Ivanhoe with their middle- or high-schoolers.

My thanks to the Advisory of Ambleside Online for their hard work on the AO curriculum. Many of the links in this guide can also be found at www.amblesideonline.org. I especially want to thank Anne White for providing the Plutarch study guides. I used her format as a model for my Ivanhoe notes.

Another resource for the teacher is Monkey Notes. I referred to these notes occasionally as I researched the novel. I especially like their take on the study of literature.

*****

These first notes are more comprehensive than the others. The beginning of the book lays groundwork for the exciting story, and I want to make sure everyone has enough background to delve into the adventure. Use as much or as little of this information as you need.

Links to background information:


The conquering Normans

Story of Richard I “Coeur de Lion”, his brother John, and Richard’s captivity and escape

Van Loon provides an astonishing look at medieval life, including the Crusades, in Chapters 35-39 of Story of Mankind

A timeline of the kings and queens of England, with pictures

Note on vocabulary: I will provide a list of vocabulary and definitions for each chapter, because I want you to be able to follow the story without looking up many words. However, I am not looking up every uncommon word because often you can figure out a word’s meaning using context. Context is a word’s immediate situation—the other words surrounding it, the language used, the opinions and beliefs of the people speaking or being spoken to, and the historic and geographic atmosphere of the book. If you cannot figure out a word’s meaning using context or the chapter’s vocabulary list, then get out the dictionary.

Who was Sir Walter Scott?

Also known as, “The Wizard of the North”, Scott mysteriously published his novels in the early 19th Century under the nom-de-plume, “Author of Waverly”. His collected prose works are often called The Waverly Novels. H.E. Marshall covers Scott’s biography in Chapters 77-78 of English Literature for Boys and Girls.

OR for a shorter biography that includes a list of works, go here.

Introduction to Chapters 1-4

Most of all, Ivanhoe is an adventure story, a romance. However, Sir Walter Scott set the story in a real time period of English history, and he spends half of the first chapter describing the political climate of 12th century England, laying the groundwork for his exciting tale. If you find the first few pages a little dry, be patient. Halfway through the chapter, we meet two of the most colorful characters of the book.

Notes and Vocabulary for Chapter 1

History: William I (1066-1087), a Norman, conquered Anglo-Saxon England at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. After he died, England was ruled by several other Norman kings, the worst being Stephen, who ruled ‘without any right’, which appropriately led to chaos. After Stephen came Henry II. He attempted to restore order and was marginally successful. Richard (1189-1199) and John are Henry’s sons.

When the story opens, Richard has inherited the kingdom from Henry II, gone to the Crusades, and been kidnapped by the Duke of Austria on his way home. During Richard’s absence, his brother, Prince John, has attempted a power grab, and the Norman barons have increased in might, disdaining the king’s council of advisors, and increasing their oppression of the Saxons, who after a hundred years of subjugation are still defiant.

Poetry: Scott begins each chapter with a verse of poetry that offers clues to the chapter. This particular offering is from Alexander Pope’s translation of The Odyssey.

Geography: Sheffield is in Yorkshire, just north of Nottingham and east of Liverpool.

The English Constitution: To this day, the English Constitution is not a single document, but what is called ‘case law’-- law based on precedent set through court cases decided by a jury of free men. The English had practiced some form of ‘shire court’ since the earliest days of Anglo-Saxon society, and by Richard’s reign, English Common Law was, well, common. Prior to the Norman invasion, even the king had to be recognized as legitimate by the witan, a group of noblemen who also served as the king’s closest advisors. The Normans continued these customary practices after a fashion, but not to the satisfaction of the Saxons. One glaring change is that the language of the courts changed from Anglo-Saxon to French, fixing a barrier against any Saxon gentleman who had not gone to the Continent to learn the language.

More background on English law

English council of state: the King’s council of advisors
state of vassalage: service, homage and fidelity owed to a feudal lord in return for protection
such and so multiplied were the means of vexation and oppression: the barons’ ability to wield their power, and their unjust and cruel ways of doing it, were so increased
nourishing the most inveterate antipathy: encouraging ingrained hatred
laws of the chase: hunting laws
rustics and hinds: coarse country people and farm laborers
West-Riding of Yorkshire: one of the historic divisions of the county of Yorkshire
malice prepense: evil intent
Ranger of the forest that cuts the foreclaws off our dogs: a reference to tyrannical hunting laws, which disabled the dogs of the inferior classes to protect the deer in the forest
Eumaeus: the faithful swineherd of Odysseus

Notes and Vocabulary for Chapter 2

Poetry: Chapter 2 begins with a quote from The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer, a collection of biographical verses and poetic tales told in the persons of medieval figures. Chaucer himself lived in the 14th Century, near the end of the English Middle Ages. This quote is from Chaucer’s biographical verses about the Monk. See if you can decipher his Middle English!

Brian: In this chapter, we meet Sir Brian du Bois-Guilbert, a Temple Knight. The Knights Templar was a monastic order of knights charged with protecting pilgrims and reclaiming the Holy Land. They were exempt from all authority except that of the Pope.

In defiance of conventual rules and the edicts of popes and councils: contrary to the rules of his religious order and the government
furniture: the necessary equipment for a saddle horse
stocking loom: a mechanical knitting loom invented in England in the 1500s
Damascene carving: an intricate inlaid pattern
device: an identifying emblem used by knights and lords
baldric: a belt worn across the chest to support a sword or bugle
Saracens: Arabs or Muslims
El Jerrid: a game played with a blunt javelin in Muslim countries
in Flanders and in Normandy: Flanders is a region on the coast of Belgium near the Netherlands. Normandy is the homeland of the Normans, on the northern coast of France.
Prior of Jorvaulx Abbey: second-in-command at the monastery
scan too nicely: examine in too much detail
anchoret: a person who has retired into seclusion for religious reasons
Franklin: a property owner not of noble birth
palmer: a pilgrim that carried a palm leaf as a symbol of having been to the Holy Land

Notes and Vocabulary on Chapter 3

Cedric: We meet Cedric the Saxon in this chapter. Cedric is a descendant of Hereward the Wake, a famous Saxon rebel of one hundred years earlier.

sagacious knowledge of physiognomy: keen understanding of facial expressions
truncheon: a heavy club
to announce, I ween, some hership and robbery: to announce, I suppose, some pillaging and robbery
morat and pigment: “These were drinks used by the Saxons…Morat was made of honey flavored with the juice of mulberries; pigment was a sweet and rich liquor composed of wine highly spiced and also sweetened with honey.” (from a note in the Signet Classic edition of Ivanhoe)

Notes and Vocabulary on Chapter 4

Rowena: In Chapter 4 we finally meet the beautiful Lady Rowena. Rowena is a Saxon princess descended from Alfred the Great. She is named for the 1st century daughter of Hengist who helped Hengist overcome Vortigern and conquer the Britons. (In the 1st century, the Saxons were the conquerors and Britons the vanquished…) The story of the earlier Rowena and her triumph over Vortigern can be read in Chapter 9 of Our Island Story (found online at www.mainlesson.com). Sir Brian refers to this story when he drinks the health of Lady Rowena.

cope: a long ecclesiastical vestment worn over a robe
the wood was disforested: the wood is no longer a protected hunting area
reliquary: a container in which a religious relic is kept
the dark caverns under which they moved: the Templar has dark bushy eyebrows and deep-set eyes
I drink wassail: a toast of goodwill
a truce with Saladin: Richard had worked out a truce with the leader of the Muslims in whereby Jerusalem would remain in Muslim hands, but would be open to Christian pilgrimages.

Thought questions:

1. In Chapter 2, Scott says, “…charity, as it is well known, covereth a multitude of sins, in another sense than that in which it is said to do so in Scripture.” According to the Bible, how does charity cover a multitude of sins? In what sense do you think Scott is using it?

2. Why doesn’t Cedric want to listen to the latest news from Palestine?

3. Wamba the Fool is reprimanded several times in the first few chapters. What do you think of his responses? How does his social position differ from Gurth’s?

4. “Nothing could be more gracefully majestic than his step and manner, had they not been marked by a predominant air of haughtiness, easily acquired by the exercise of unresisted authority.” What do we learn from Scott’s description of Sir Brian’s walk?

5. “If mildness were the more natural expression of such a combination of features, it was plain that, in the present instance, the exercise of habitual superiority, and the reception of general homage, had given to the Saxon lady a loftier character, which mingled with and qualified that bestowed by nature.” What do we learn about Lady Rowena from the description of her face and expression?

*****

(I am providing this study guide as a thank-you to the community of Ambleside Online for the many free resources with which they have blessed my family over the years. I did many hours of research to produce this guide. Feel free to use it if it helps you, but please respect my work and do not attempt to reproduce it for profit.)