Philosophy

Charlotte Mason (1842–1923) was a Christian educational philosopher in England at the turn of the 20th century. She began a parent’s educational union, a teacher’s college, an educational journal, and she wrote a curriculum and six books expounding her philosophy of education as well as a number of other books. 

Charlotte Mason believed, as do we at Living Heritage, that behind every educational methodology is a philosophy of education and behind every philosophy of education is a theology of the nature of the student, the role of the teacher, and the goals of education. “Styles” of education don’t exist in a vacuum, and while we have some legitimate biblical options, we cannot just pick and choose our homeschool style based on preference like an ice cream flavor or variety of potato chips. We must understand why a certain methodology chooses to do what it does. 

At Living Heritage, we looked closely at all the styles. (This was, in fact, part of Dr. Becky Aniol’s doctoral dissertation.) We wanted to use a philosophy and methodology based on Scripture. We purposefully avoided styles that treated the child like a data machine (the child is an image bearer of a personal, creative God from conception), avoided styles that placed students into artificial stages of learning based on their age and stage of development (this is Darwinian and a product of child psychology), avoided styles that tried to reconstruct Medieval Catholic scholasticism or Greco-Roman education, and avoided styles that standardized education in content or form (a product of modern pragmatism and progressivism). 

Charlotte Mason—while an extremely well-read educational philosopher, as evidenced in her writings—looked to the Scriptures first and foremost when developing her educational philosophy, methodology, and curriculum. She states this explicitly. She further emphasized throughout her writings that all education was toward forming a relationship with God and rejected any idea that a divide existed between sacred knowledge and secular knowledge. All true knowledge belongs to God. 

Charlotte Mason believed that knowledge was not mere information accumulation but that true knowledge is relational. Education must get at the heart—the seat of the mind, will, and affections—not just the mind. The two main principles behind her philosophy are that children are born persons and that education is the science of relations. 

She believed that knowledge was transferred, mind-to-mind, through the children encountering living books and real things. She did not believe in books talking down to the child or in asking children to try to digest dry-as-sawdust material. She also did not believe in the teacher creating an artificial environment for the child. (As examples of artificial environment, think of everything from cutesy bulletin boards covering the walls of cinder block classrooms to rooms full of only wooden toys and primary colored manipulatives.) She believed that children’s natural curiosity was sparked when they were brought into contact with the natural world of God’s creation and with books written by people who had a deep love for their subject and communicated that in truth, goodness, and beauty. This, she believed, pointed the children beyond themselves to God the Creator and sparked within their hearts new ideas that helped them grow and understand their place in God’s World. 

Charlotte Mason believed that formal education should not begin until the age of six. Before six, children should be given room for their imaginations to grow and be carefully discipled by their parents in obedience and attention. Without the settled habits of immediate obedience and full attention, Mason argued, education could not take place, or at least not well. She also advocated for short lessons so that children could give their full attention to their lessons and not be frustrated or allow their mind to wander. 

Charlotte Mason advocated for a generous feast to be placed in front of the children. She believed that the mind and heart of each child—as a human being bearing the image of a personal, creative God—would connect with different ideas placed before him. Ideas spark more ideas and interests. Wonder blossoms. But no part of the wondrous feast of education, no aspect of God’s magnificent world, should be left off the feast table, lest we rob the child of ideas and connections and wonder and love. 

The goal of education—both in Charlotte Mason’s philosophy and, we believe, also in Scripture—is that the child forms a relationship of love first with God and then with the things of God. The goal of education is not to stuff the child’s mind with lots of information so that they check all the boxes and get into a good college or get a good job someday. Education is not ultimately about how much our children know; it is about how much—and Whom—they love. And in so loving, may it be their heart’s desire to be conformed to the image of Christ in thought, word, and deed and to glorify God and enjoy him forever. 

While we are deeply indebted to the meticulously fleshed-out educational philosophy that Charlotte Mason penned and the examples we can see from her schools, we freely acknowledge that Charlotte Mason was a fallible human being and held a few beliefs with which we at Living Heritage do not agree. These do not significantly impact her philosophy, but anywhere that these come up, we will defer to Scripture. 

Living Heritage is designed by Dr. Becky Aniol, a veteran homeschooling mom of four with a PhD in Christian education. She has spent many years reading philosophy of education books—and not only reading them but comparing them with Scripture within the context of doctoral seminars at seminary. While Dr. Aniol believes that Charlotte Mason’s philosophy is the most compatible with the Bible’s view of the nature of the child and the nature of knowledge and the human heart, the role of the teacher, and the goals of education, Dr. Aniol has looked at everything through the lens of Scripture and held to that which is best. 

In addition, Charlotte Mason wrote a philosophy and purposefully did not write a standardized system. Therefore, we follow her principles and yet do not feel compelled necessarily to do everything exactly as she did to the letter. We take her philosophy and her methods, filter them through the lens of Scripture, assess their worth either as time-honored learning methods rooted in her philosophy that support this type of learning or simply as pieces of her methods that were tied to her time and place. A deep understanding of the history of education helps us with this. We do not discard any pieces that undermine the Truth upon which she founded her philosophy and principles or that undermine the biblical ways she taught that the Truth is best formed within the student. 

Ultimately, in a Charlotte Mason education, the teacher lays the feast. Education is not child-led in any sense. It is up to the parents to disciple their children and to provide proper nourishment—not junk food or harmful substances—for their children. Children do not yet have the wisdom to choose their own nourishment. Even within the context of a pre-planned curriculum like Living Heritage, the parent is ultimately responsible for the feast they lay for their particular child. Each parent knows his child best. 

However, the parent is freed from two burdens in a Charlotte Mason education. First, the parent is freed from the burden of providing the knowledge of and the love for each subject. That burden falls on the books, as each book in a Charlotte Mason education is carefully chosen to communicate interest and excitement in the subject area and is written, not by a textbook committee, but by an expert in that field who also writes in a manner worth reading—in beautiful prose. 

Second, the parent is freed from the burden of forcing the child to know. That burden falls to the child himself. No child will ever know what they are not willing to own for themselves. Biblically, knowledge is a love-relationship word. We can encourage children to love the right things by exposing them to the true, good, and beautiful. We can model a love for the right things ourselves. But, ultimately, it is impossible to make anyone truly know or love anything. Thus, a broad and generous feast is laid for the child in a broad array of subject areas and presented in an enticing, appetizing manner. The child is given a sample of some of everything that is true and good and beautiful and ultimately takes what he needs as he grows and matures in his personhood and refines his own interests. 

In addition to parents providing the feast—and tasting it for ourselves as fellow-learners and still-growing human beings—we pray for our children and allow the Holy Spirit to work in their hearts, grow their loves, and rightly order their affections as they, Lord willing, submit their hearts to Christ and become more like him. Our children are in the Lord’s hands.

What is the primary way we, as adults, learn new things? We generally learn through reading good books. We don’t go to the education section of the library and check out a textbook written by a committee with chunks of information in dry paragraphs and bold terms. Rather, we find a well-written book about the subject we desire to know more about, and we read it. Oftentimes, we read an interesting book that’s been recommended to us or a time-honored classic and, in this way, without even trying, we learn new things about various subjects and our interest is sparked. This is how we grow—through reading—throughout our adult lives. God intends for us to be readers. As Christians, we are people who deal in words, with God’s Word being our primary Book. 

The Charlotte Mason philosophy has students read living books—books written by one person (not a committee) who has a deep interest in and knowledge of their subject and communicates that knowledge and interest through beautiful prose. A living book is a beautifully written narrative that ignites the imagination; inspires interest in its subject; invites imitation of the True, Good, and Beautiful; and imbeds nourishing ideas that cause both young and old to grow as persons made in the image of God. These are books that students want to read and can come back to time after time at any age. These books get to the heart, not just the mind. They engage and help order the student’s affections. 

Furthermore, in this philosophy, students read many books at the same time, slowly, so that the student has time 1) to meditate on the content and 2) to make connections between books. 

If you haven’t done a Charlotte Mason education before, this approach to education can seem very different. There are a lot of books. They are spread out. There aren’t any workbooks. What do you do? You simply read and tell back. It’s a very simple method. Fifth graders and up do most of their readings independently and come to you to tell back what they read. This isn’t information accumulation—that’s not consistent with a Christian goal of education. We are forming hearts and ordering affections so that students can walk in wisdom and love learning about the things God has made. They are telling back the things that made them wonder (in awe or with questions) and the things that reminded them of other things they have read before and are currently reading (impossible if they are only reading one thing at a time). This is organizing their thoughts through their hearts, forming the Christian Imagination, without which developing a biblical worldview is impossible. Satan knows all the right information. That’s not enough; or rather, that’s not the right thing. The problem is that he doesn’t love God. That’s what we’re after.

When students have to step away from a book and read other things, it forces recall (they have to learn to think harder and better; they have to remind themselves what they read before; narration helps with this), it allows for more depth and better connections between more books (without which good narrations would be nearly impossible), it allows time between readings for ideas to form and wisdom to grow through meditation and remembrance, which are two hallmarks of rightly ordered education, and it forces the student to form a relationship with the book (and therefore the knowledge) by requiring the student to think about the book and its subject and its story over time. That makes a much deeper and more lasting impression that the student would not get by gobbling/stuffing down one book and then moving on to another. 

Think of it as the difference between binge-watching a show and watching the old-fashioned way, once a week at a set time. When you binge-watch, you get that instant gratification, but instant gratification is rarely as satisfying in the long run. Everything runs together and you miss out on the anticipation, the thinking about the previous episode and wondering what might happen next—it might be this scenario or this other scenario. Through that meditation process you internalize so much more. To switch metaphors, we are not giving our children a fast food education. We are giving them healthy, nourishing, full meals, and we want to give them time to digest, meditate, and anticipate before the next portion of that same food. Let them be excited about what may come next, and let them guess a bit in the interval. That will make it stick. 

Charlotte Mason likened knowledge to the digestive process: “If we perceive that knowledge, like bread, is necessary food, we see also that it must be taken in set portions, fitly combined, duly served, and at due intervals, in order to induce the digestive processes without which, knowledge, like meat, gives us labour rather than strength” (Charlotte Mason, Vol 5, p. 382).

This is the reason we schedule this way—books spread out instead of reading one or two books and finishing them and then moving on. We spread the Full Feast each week instead of serving a single course or two at a time.

In most cases, explaining is going to ruin the narrative and the reading experience. When we read, we enter that world through the experience of our imaginations; when we stop and talk, we yank the child (and ourselves) out of the world and sever the “connection.” As a general rule, the story arc is going to be way more formative than the individual factual details.

You may feel like your children are not comprehending a lot of what you’re reading because the vocabulary is elevated and maybe old and maybe even British. It’s okay if they’re not getting everything in the story! They’re hearing beautiful language and beautiful writing! They can enter into the literary experience, even if they can’t follow every word and much of it goes over their heads. Try not to stop and define any vocabulary or explain what just happened. Just let them have the exposure and take what they can from it. They can feel free to ask questions when you’re finished reading. Their imaginations will work on it over time, and that’s one of the big processes of self-education. If we stopped to explain all the details, we would be stealing that educational process from them. And if we explained, we’d be implying to them that this book is too hard for them. Instead, they work to understand. If we keep interrupting the story to explain, and make it seem like a “hard” book, or if we dumbed it down for them, they would have both less enjoyment and less imaginative benefit from the book. Trust the process. It’s a long game. And remember that education is not information accumulation; it’s about forming and ordering the loves.

Living Heritage uses many books. Practically speaking, each group makes a big jump in workload. This is purposeful to challenge them and to prepare them for things to come (in the next group, in college, in life, etc). But, dear ones, cut back until you have peace. If education is not information accumulation, then it’s okay to cut out some books! We need to retrain our brains from modern progressive standardized education (of which most of us are a product, even if we went to Christian school; hint: it’s the method, not just the content, that’s progressive and thoroughly modern). We don’t have to do everything! But Living Heritage would not be serving all of your children if it didn’t provide a generous feast for ravenous learners/readers. If it left them hungry, then it failed them (and it failed their parents, who then have to search for more books and plan more things). If you have a picky learner with a tiny appetite, then cut back to what’s manageable on their plate while stretching them to try new things and consume a little more because it’s good for them and what they need to grow healthy and strong. If you can’t buy all the books, that’s okay too!

The books are meant to be enjoyed and slowly savored. They’re “delicious” while also being nutritious. Group 2 has more books than Group 1 that are still a fairly easy read. Group 3 has fewer books than Group 2 that are for the most part harder, adult reads (befitting young adults) and classics.  Do what works for your family. You are the parent, teacher, and school administrator. The curriculum is a tool, like a menu. This one has been carefully curated, but it doesn’t mean you have to order everything. Breathe! New things can be hard, but we’re doing this with the Christian end in mind, so start slowly and give it a chance. I think you’ll be surprised at how peaceful it is (not likely on the first day or week, if you have sinners in your home, but it will come), and if you’re coming from textbooks and workbooks, I think you’ll be surprised at how much more your children enjoy learning.

In Living Heritage, we use living books beautifully written by an expert in his field who communicates a contagious love for his subject. But how do we approach the subject of literature itself?

Like Charlotte Mason, we are exposing our students to the best that has been written throughout time. Their diet in literature is books that have stood the test of time and come out on top as enduring and beloved classics. Students read poetry, Shakespeare, classic folk tales, fables, and legends, epics, classic novels, and short stories. These are the books that all children should read, not just for familiarity or pragmatism, but to love. These are books worth loving. 

In a Charlotte Mason education, literature is treated as it should be—as an art. We do not read literature as a history lesson, a theology lesson, a character lesson, a grammar lesson, a culture lesson, or any other kind of lesson. Literature is not a lens through which to diagnose. We do not use literature to diagnose and analyze an author’s worldview or to diagnose and analyze critical theories or ethnic prejudices or feminist studies or studies in sexuality or the myriad horrible other ways literature is used and scrutinized today. We do not use literature. Period. Literature is not an analysis tool. It is a medium of art, and we study it as such. We can certainly look at the time period and culture in which it was created and the life of the author, but ultimately we look at the words, which provide the shape of the art form. Words have meaning. 

Just like our study of Scripture, when we study literature, the words cannot mean anything to us now that they did not mean to the original audience. We cannot read modern theories backwards in time onto literature.

Thus, ultimately, literature is not a lesson in worldview analysis. That kills the love for the art itself. Building the Christian Imagination through excellent, beautiful, well-ordered classic literature is building a Christian worldview. What we want to avoid is taking the literature and pulling it apart as a study in something else. That would be like taking a beautiful bouquet and pulling it apart to analyze its leaves, its petals, its stamen, its stem, etc. Again, while we may certainly discuss the life of the author and the culture in which the book came into being, even noting the aims the author may have had in writing, we then look at the words and the story for their own literary merit. We don’t use the literature to teach cultural analysis or worldview analysis.

Literature is also not a lesson in mirrors and windows. We do not choose literature based on the ethnicity or gender of the author or on the ethnicity or gender of the characters. That is racist. We reject the notion that students need mirrors and windows to love themselves or love others. According to Scripture, we are born loving ourselves more than plenty, and we do not teach our children to love others based on the color of their skin or out of empathy for the suffering their ancestors suffered because of ethnic prejudices. We are all of one race—the human race—and we have the God-given ability to love others because they are fellow image bearers and because God has commanded us to do so. We don’t need to read about many cultures to love others.

Literature, instead of pointing us to ourselves, should point us to Christ. This certainly does not mean that every book we read was written by a person with a regenerate heart. We would miss most of the world’s literature (and most of the medical field, and most of history, etc.) if that were our criterion. What that means is that the literature we read should give us eyes to see the Creator, the Redeemer, the fallen human condition and the overarching story of redemption. When good overcomes evil, when the prince rescues his bride, when the mystery is resolved, these properly order our affections and point us to the One who orders our universe, who triumphs over evil, and who rescues his bride.

We also include classic stories with magic, such as folk tales. Magic in classic stories is a metaphor for grace, a gift given by a power that we cannot see, or for justice, a just punishment given by a power that we cannot see. It pulls us out of modernity, which rejects supernatural intervention in our lives or even the existence of the supernatural at all, and reminds us that powers exist that we do not see and are continually working in the world. We make a (vast) distinction between the magic and magical characters in classic stories (written to make a redemptive point in the story) and the true occult, which we eschew. We encourage everyone to always follow their conscience on these matters and choose accordingly for their families.

We choose literature, first, as stated above, that has stood the test of time. Within that confine, we use three criteria of worth to narrow the field of literary art that we give our children. We do not choose literature with gratuitousness, explicitness, or inverted moral tone. In other words, we do not choose literature in which evil is not purposeful but is simply present for the “shock value.” We do not choose literature in which evil is more explicit or vivid than is necessary to its purpose in the story or than is appropriate. And we do not choose literature in which evil is presented as good or remains uncondemned. Such literature is not worthy of our children’s time and attention and love.

All of what has been written about the art of literature applies likewise to our choice of visual art and music. We do not use visual art and music for the purpose of analysis or reading theories into it. We do not choose visual art or music for study based on ethnicity. We choose art and music that has stood the test of time and has been, over time, considered the best. We choose visual art and music that meets the three criteria of worth. In addition, we do not choose music to study that is sensual in nature, such as much of pop music, as that does not form in our children right affections but rather works to pervert their affections and distort their loves. And we do not choose art to study that depicts any person of the godhead to avoid any possible violation of the second commandment. 

We also teach children the art of creating their own literature (through narration and creative writing), their own visual art (through watercolor and drawing lessons), and their own music (through ear training, note reading, sight singing, and music theory lessons). We encourage families to pursue musical instrument lessons.

History in a Charlotte Mason education is not taught as a chronological list of facts. This is because every part of education in this philosophy is both relational (never out of context) and taught in such a way that it sparks the imagination. Charlotte Mason eschewed “all compendiums, outlines, [and] abstracts” of history (vol 1, p. 281). She said, 

Let him, on the contrary, linger pleasantly over the history of a single man, a short period, until he thinks the thoughts of that man, is at home in the ways of that period. Though he is reading and thinking of the lifetime of a single man, he is really getting intimately acquainted with the history of a whole nation for a whole age. (vol 1, p. 280)

This is how one learns to love history and love one’s country and the people of other countries and not just know random encyclopedic facts about history. Charlotte Mason says, 

It is a great thing to possess a pageant of history in the background of one’s thoughts. We may not be able to recall this or that circumstance, but, ‘the imagination is warmed’; we know that there is a great deal to be said on both sides of every question and are safe from crudities in opinion and rashness in action. The present becomes enriched for us with the wealth of all that has gone before. (vol 6, p. 178)

In addition to not being a list of dates and facts or choppy outline-style paragraphs with bold terms, history is not taught as a unit study in which the parent or curriculum coordinates every single aspect of the school day around a certain time period. While history and literature are generally coordinated, it’s important that the child makes his own connections rather than the parent or curriculum artificially making the connections for him. In this way, the child is excited by the connection, and it sticks—because he made it! 

While some material from other subjects is coordinated with the history cycle, we do not hold historical time periods as the absolute integration point for each cycle. The practice of using history as the absolute integration point does a disservice to the child, putting aside many wonderful, age-appropriate books they should read but don’t because they are not part of the “time period.” 

Furthermore, In a Charlotte Mason education, children learn ideas first, not facts first. In other words, we fill their minds with the great stories that spark their imaginations and then later those stories serve as “pegs” on which to hang things like names and dates that students naturally encounter in their progressively more difficult readings. (These names and dates get recorded in their Book of Centuries.) Charlotte Mason wanted students not to learn anything in a vacuum but always in a context. She said, “The mind . . . is nourished upon ideas and absorbs facts only as these are connected with the living ideas upon which they hang” (vol 6, p. 20).

This fits with the way we study Scripture. We don’t teach our youngest children to memorize a list of dates and people and only later give them the Bible stories. And we also never study a verse or a Greek word or any part of Scripture in a vacuum but always within its proper biblical and historical context. 

In a Charlotte Mason education, students are indeed asked to memorize, but they memorize—learn by heart—things that will grow them. They memorize Scripture, poetry, hymns, speeches, and other similar things that are worthy of meditation and are intrinsically beautiful and true and good. 
We have only so much memory capacity, and we have only so much time for memorization. Capacity can be increased, but there will always be an element of choice involved since we can’t memorize everything. Thus, we spend our time and memory primarily on these worthy things rather than lists of contextless facts. Memorizing lists of facts is pragmatic at best and dehumanizing at worst. Children are not little computers or data machines.

In a Charlotte Mason education, science is natural philosophy (which was what it was called before the modern secular-scientific era). In other words, science is not mere quantifiable and verifiable data and mathematical equations but rather, in the study of science as natural philosophy, one thinks about scientific things within the context of philosophy and theology. Science also relies on observation of the natural world rather than mere laboratory experiments. It’s learning to observe God’s world and growing in curiosity about the way the world works. 

In Living Heritage, we put the Bible first, and all science must measure itself against the Bible, not vice versa. We are unapologetic young earth creationists. Whenever possible, we choose living books written by Christians. However, we will not choose a book that is less than living (a dry textbook style book or a book with mediocre writing or a committee-written tome) simply because it claims to be Christian and young earth. Unfortunately, Christians—perhaps because many modern Christians do not read quality books—have not written living books on all subjects. When this is the case, we look at the overall character of the book, the marvel at God’s creation that it presents (even if the author does not acknowledge God), the depth of knowledge and excitement of the author, and the literary quality of the writing rather than simply giving lip-service to creationism with a Bible verse or comment here and there in an otherwise mediocre and boring book. A beautifully written, wonder-filled, excellent book on a science subject, even when written by an unbeliever, communicates more of the majesty and glory of God than a dry, committee-written textbook with boring, disconnected informational paragraphs.

We will never choose any book that uses evolution as a premise for the book’s argument or any book that belittles creationism or God. However, because some of these authors do not know God, some books will contain passing mentions of evolution (i.e. something happened “millions of years ago”). When this is the case, we have carefully marked that in our plans and often use that as an opportunity for students to refute the statement biblically with a narration prompt based on their other young earth creationist studies. Especially in high school, we want students to be aware of other positions and be able to think and speak biblically about origins, ethical issues, etc. All five of our specially-designed high school science options have foundational materials (books and/or videos) that ground the students in young earth (literal six 24-hour days) creationism. 

Finally, nature study is always included in science lessons in Living Heritage in some form. The study of science should spark curiosity and wonder and love of God’s creation, not just be a series of mathematical, abstract problems.