Should You Read Charlotte Mason's Original Writings?

This summer I’ve been slowly reading through Charlotte Mason’s Towards a Philosophy of Education (Volume 6).

Although I’ve been following Charlotte Mason’s philosophy for the past four years, I had only read excerpts from this volume. This time, I wanted to approach it more intentionally—to read it from beginning to end rather than picking and choosing sections.

To make sure I stayed committed, I invited the moms from our homeschool co-op to read along with me. Each week we read one chapter, then meet on Zoom on Monday evenings after the children are tucked into bed. We talk about what resonated with us, what challenged us, and what left us scratching our heads. Sometimes we even practice narrating what we read—the very habit Mason insisted her students should develop after every lesson. It has been both humbling and surprisingly enjoyable to experience her methods as learners ourselves.

Should you read Charlotte Mason herself? I think the answer is yes.

One of my favorite parts of this experience has been hearing directly from Charlotte Mason herself instead of relying on podcasts, blog posts, or social media summaries of her ideas. While I'm grateful for modern interpreters, there's something refreshing about reading the original source. Her convictions, her wit, and even her occasional sharp critiques come through much more clearly when you encounter her words firsthand.

That said, it isn't easy reading. Volume 6 was written more than a century ago, and Mason's prose is thoughtful, dense, and beautifully elevated. She also assumes her readers share a cultural context that most of us simply don't have anymore. She references classical literature, historical events, educational debates, and social customs that would have been familiar to her English audience but often require a bit of detective work for an American reader in 2026.

I'm especially thankful that I purchased the annotated edition edited by Rachel Lebowitz at a homeschool conference several years ago. Throughout the margins she explains unfamiliar references, translates French phrases, defines archaic vocabulary, and provides historical context that makes Mason's writing much more accessible. It's one of those resources that has proven far more valuable than I realized when I first bought it.

Something else I've found fascinating is the historical moment in which Mason wrote this book. She was in her eighties, writing during the years between the First and Second World Wars. The uncertainty and upheaval of her time are woven throughout her writing. She regularly alludes to the moral, social, and educational crises she saw unfolding around her, and many of her most adamant arguments about education are, in fact, responses to those concerns.

Reading Towards a Philosophy of Education is kind of like sitting down with an elderly educator reflecting on a lifetime of teaching, wrestling with the problems of her generation, and asking how education forms thoughtful, virtuous, and fully alive human beings. More than a hundred years later, I continue to be inspired and hopeful that her methods and understandings can make me a better homeschooling parent. 

One of my favorite parts of this experience has been hearing directly from Charlotte Mason herself instead of relying on podcasts, blog posts, or social media summaries of her ideas. While I'm grateful for modern interpreters, there's something refreshing about reading the original source. Her convictions, her wit, and even her occasional sharp critiques come through much more clearly when you encounter her words firsthand.

That said, it isn't easy reading. Volume 6 was written more than a century ago, and Mason's prose is thoughtful, dense, and beautifully elevated. She also assumes her readers share a cultural context that most of us simply don't have anymore. She references classical literature, historical events, educational debates, and social customs that would have been familiar to her English audience but often require a bit of detective work for an American reader in 2026.

I'm especially thankful that I purchased the annotated edition edited by Rachel Lebowitz at a homeschool conference several years ago. Throughout the margins she explains unfamiliar references, translates French phrases, defines archaic vocabulary, and provides historical context that makes Mason's writing much more accessible. It's one of those resources that has proven far more valuable than I realized when I first bought it.

Something else I've found fascinating is the historical moment in which Mason wrote this book. She was in her eighties, writing during the years between the First and Second World Wars. The uncertainty and upheaval of her time are woven throughout her writing. She regularly alludes to the moral, social, and educational crises she saw unfolding around her, and many of her most adamant arguments about education are, in fact, responses to those concerns.

Reading Towards a Philosophy of Education is kind of like sitting down with an elderly educator reflecting on a lifetime of teaching, wrestling with the problems of her generation, and asking how education forms thoughtful, virtuous, and fully alive human beings. More than a hundred years later, I continue to be inspired and hopeful that her methods and understandings can make me a better homeschooling parent.