In fact, they would appear more as a series of interesting pastimes than school tasks.
Instead of making boys and girls con so many pages, say, of the geography of China, at the same time that they are wading through the history of the Norman Conquest, for instance; those two subjects should be made to bear the one upon the other.
The deeds of Duke Robert would lead to a consideration of the places mentioned in connection with them, their geographical position, geology, local traditions, celebrities, and other archaeological associations; while, their after-bearing on the history of our country should not be omitted.
The doings of the Black Prince might, also be exampled as inducing the study of the geography of northern France.

Cressy, and Poitiers, and Agincourt, might, naturally, suggest the first use of gunpowder, its composition, and invention; and, then, the improvements in modern weapons of war would follow as a natural consequence, which would end in their being compared with the old flint implements, that are so frequently found to the delight of antiquaries' hearts.
In this way, the literature of any particular period might be combined with its history and geography:--science, and other technical matters, being incidentally introduced; and, the pupil's imagination, in addition, kept in play, by allowing him or her to peruse such good historical novels and light essays as would bear upon the life and times of the people of whom they were reading.
Celebrated battles of the world, memorable deeds, and famous men, would then no longer be classed in separate order, as so many bald facts, and dates, and names, to be learnt and remembered in chronological sequence; but, the young student would take such deep interest in them from the various pieces of desultory and comprehensive information he may have picked up in reference, that he could tell you "all about them" in succinct narrative--in lieu of merely being only able to mention their bare statistical connections.
You may urge, perhaps, that this system would take a long time to work; and that a large portion of the knowledge thus learnt would be quickly forgotten?
But, to the first objection I would reply, that, I do not see why it should take any longer than the ordinary practice of educating children, now in vogue; as, instead of considering the various subjects separately, they would only be taught the same things contemporaneously, as parts of a whole; and, I certainly would be inclined to "back" one of my scholars, if I instructed any on the principle, to know more of the general history and polity of the world and of the different countries respectively that compose it--besides possessing a fair acquaintance with modern literature and science--than one taught in the old fashion for thrice the time.
With regard to your second demurrer, I would say, that, granting that a good deal of this stray information might pass in at one ear and out of the other; still, much would remain--sufficient and more than sufficient to render the scholar better educated, as a rule, than many men who yearly obtain high honours at the university for special attainments in "the humanities." Under my system, they would be educated to more practical purpose for future usefulness; for, the knowledge of college men is generally limited to certain class books, while, generously-schooled youths, on this plan, would have extracted the honey from almost every volume they could pick up, ranging from Pinnock's _Catechism of Common Things_ at one extreme, to Ruskin's _Ethics of the Dust_ at the other--and, I think, that allows a very fair margin for criticism! But, you may now ask, what on earth have I, Frank Lorton, got to do with all this; especially at the present moment, when I have not yet passed my examination before Her Majesty's Polite Letter Writer Commissioners?
What, indeed! All I can say for my unpardonable digression is, that I was, I suppose, born a reformer at heart, having an itching desire to be continually setting matters straight around me of all kinds and bearings.

The mention of those confounded "crammers," led me on to talk about examinations in general; and, while on the topic, I could not stop until I had thoroughly relieved my mind from an incubus of educational zeal that has long lain there dormant.
Now, I will proceed again, with your permission and pardon--which latter, I'm confident, is already granted.
Thanks to an excellent memory, and a firm resolve to succeed "by hook or by crook," I made the most of all my crammer taught me; although, like most of his pupils, I found it at first rather irksome.

However, my work had to be done, and I did it.

I consoled myself with the reflection that it was all for Min eventually; and, obeying the behests of my tutor, I quickly learnt all the endless series of names and dates that he entrusted to my memory--to the very letter and spirit thereof.
In a fortnight, he told me that he considered me "safe" to pass "the board"-- an assurance which I was by no means sorry to hear; as, independently of my discovering that "cramming" is not the most interesting mode of beguiling one's time, I received at the end of the same period, through the kind exertions of the vicar on my behalf, a nomination to the Obstructor General's Office.
The official letter conveying the gratifying intelligence of my nomination, directed me, also, to present myself on the following Tuesday morning, at "ten of the clock" precisely, before the examining board of commissioners--taking care to furnish myself with a duly authenticated certificate of baptism and one testifying my moral character; neither of which had I any difficulty in procuring.
Thus provided, and crammed, "up to the nines," by my temporary pedagogue, I put in my due appearance, as required, to have my attainments tested:--in order that I might be reported upon as fit, or not, to undertake the very onerous duties of the office to which I had been probationally appointed.
I was quite hopeful as to the result, for my "crammer" again impressed me at the last moment with his entire conviction that I would pass with eclat; while, my good friend the vicar, who had given me the most flaming of testimonials, cheered me up with his cordial wishes for my success, as did also dear little Miss Pimpernell, in her customary impulsive way.
"Down along in Westminster, not far from the side of the wa--ter," as is sung in the eloquent strains of a certain "Pretty Little Ratcatcher's Daughter," who was known and admired "all around that quar--ter," stands the not-by-any-means-gloomy-looking mansion of Her Majesty's Polite Letter Writer Commissioners--over whose fell door so many trembling candidates for situations under Government might, very reasonably, trace the mystic characters of the inscription surmounting Dante's _Inferno_--"Lasciate ogni speranza doi ch' entrate!" Arrived here, and mounting a series of stairs until I had reached the topmost floor, to which I was directed by the janitor, I found myself at last in a long, low, gothic-lighted room--whose windows had commanding views of the grand hotel over the way, the roof of the Abbey alongside, and the police station in the centre of the problematical "green" in front.
Here, the competitors could reflect--while awaiting their papers, or when chewing the cud of contentment or despair at the contemplation of the same--on what might be the vicissitudes of their lot in the event of their failure or success.
At a given signal, fifty-nine other persons and myself, all doomed to compete for six vacancies in the much-desired office of the Obstructor General, were ushered, like schoolboys, into another and inner room, opening out of the former and garnished with rows of green-baize-covered tables, running from end to end.
This room seemed to bring back to me a host of old recollections; and, each moment, I was expecting to see the ghost of "Old Jack," my head instructor at Queen's College School in days of yore, and hear him exclaiming in his well-remembered stentorian tones--"Boy Lorton--you are detained for inattention! Stop in and write five hundred lines!"-- and, then, to see him come swooping down the room upon me, with wrath and majesty seated on his bald brow and his gown flowing behind him.
He generally took such enormous strides, when moved with a sudden desire to punish some lost soul, whom he might suspect of the heinous crimes of idleness or "cribbing"-- both unforgivable offences in his calendar--that the aforesaid gown, I recollect, seemed frequently to float over his head--forming in conjunction with his square college cap, alias "mortar board," a regular "nimbus," like that surrounding the heads of the saints in old pictures.
The Polite Letter Writer Commissioners--or rather, their executive-- were, I must confess, much quieter in their demeanour, moving about as stealthily as if they were engaged in any number of Gunpowder, or Rye House Plots, or other conspiracies.
Perhaps, you say, they were much too orderly in their proceedings for me?
Well, I don't think so, exactly; still, _I_ do not believe much in the justice and impartiality of the Vehmgerichte, Parliamentary committees, the Berlin police, the prefects of the past empire, Monsieur Thiers's communistic courts-martial, or of the New York Erie Ring--nor, indeed of any representative, or, other body, which hides its deeds and decisions under a cloak of secrecy! Be that as it may, the method of the examiners did not tend to reassure us, speaking collectively of the sixty of us who now awaited judgment-- fifty-four of whom were pre-ordained to failure, and _knew it_, which certainly militated against any chance of their looking upon the preparations for their torture with a lenient eye.
At regular intervals along the green-baize tables were deposited small parcels of stationery, consisting of a large sheet of sanguinary blotting-paper, a quire or so of foolscap, a piece of indiarubber, an attenuated lead-pencil, a dozen of quill pens, with others of Gillott's or Mitchell's manufacture, and an ink bottle--the whole putting one in mind of those penny packets of writing requisites that itinerant pedlars, mostly seedy-looking individuals who "have seen better days," pester one's private house with in London; and which they are so anxious to dispose of, that they exhibit the greatest trust in your integrity, leaving their wares unsolicited behind them, and intimating that they will "call again for an answer." The present parcels were also "left for answers"-- answers on which depended our future prospects and position! Seated in state, on a sort of dais in the centre of the room, was a courteous and urbane personage of affable exterior.