ON AMERICAN COMMON SCHOOLS—CONCLUSION.
[Sidenote: _American Common Schools._]
It was my practice, wherever I was staying, to visit some of the
schools of the place. I have spoken of several of these visits in the
foregoing pages. I will now give, collectively, the conclusions at
which I arrived on the subject of education in America, after an actual
inspection of schools, and much conversation with persons interested
and engaged in educational work in every part of the Union, with the
exception of the new States on the Pacific coast.
We have had the American Common School system held up before us for
many years for our imitation. We have been told that, compared with
it, our own efforts in the cause of education are discreditable and
contemptible. We have been urged to look at what they are doing; to
consider how highly they tax themselves for this purpose; to admire
the effects of this system, as seen in a people, the whole of whom are
now educated and intelligent. Of course the inference always is, that
the best thing we can do is to go and do likewise. These are vague
generalities, which an acquaintance with the subject will in some
respects largely modify.
First, I demur to the statement that Americans do tax themselves so
highly for the purpose of education. It would be much nearer to the
truth to say that there is no people on the face of the earth who
educate their children so cheaply as the Americans; and therefore
much more in conformity with the facts of their case, and of ours in
this matter, to urge us to endeavour, by considering their example,
to cheapen education amongst ourselves. I have now before me the most
recent report of the Board of Education for the city of New York. It
is for the year 1866. From this it appears that, taking together all
the common schools of the city, the Primary, the Grammar, the Coloured,
the Evening, the Normal, the Corporate, and the Free Academy, now the
College of the City of New York, there are 227,691 children and young
persons receiving education at a total cost for everything—including
rents, purchases of sites, building, repairs, and salaries of officers
of the board, as well as of the teachers—of 2,420,883 dollars, or
about 30_s._ a head. Are the children of any city in England educated
as cheaply? These schools educate a considerable proportion of the
children of the higher class, that is the professional men and
merchants; speaking generally, all the children of the middle class,
that is of the tradesmen; and as many of the children of the artisan
and unskilled labouring class as their parents choose to send. This
30_s._ is a high average for American cities. I believe it is higher
than any other in the United States. Tradesmen with us pay about 35_l._
a year for a child kept at a boarding-school, and about 15_l._ a year
for the education given at day schools. In the great city of New York
about 400,000_l._ a year is spent on the education of all classes,
plus the cost of the few of the upper class who are sent to private
schools. How much more, we may ask, is spent here on the education
of 227,691 children of the different ranks in life of these New York
children? There can be no doubt but that our unmethodical system,
notwithstanding our numerous foundations, costs us much more than their
system costs the Americans. Ours is the costliest educational system in
the world; theirs the most economical.
[Sidenote: _Cheapness of American Schools._]
This is still more apparent when we pass from the towns to the country.
There the cost frequently falls below 10_s._ a head. The children
educated in these schools are those of the proprietors of the land,
but who cultivate it themselves as well as own it. Are the children of
this class, in any part of the world, educated for so small a number
of shillings a year? Why, in New York you have to pay as much for a
pair of gloves, and more for a bottle of wine. In Illinois, one of the
richest States in the Union, and whose population is probably better
off than any equal number of people in any other country, the average
cost for the children of the whole State is little more than this
10_s._ a head. And in Massachusetts, the State in which attention has
been most carefully and for the longest time directed to the subject,
and where everything is done that is thought necessary, the average for
the town and country children actually at school is only 25_s._
The fact is simply this. The rural population in America is the most
homogeneous in the world. It is composed entirely of farmers, and of
their sons and brothers who are the professional men and tradesmen
of the district. Landlordism and tithes are unknown: so there is no
one above the farmer-proprietor, and from New York to San Francisco
there is no such class as our agricultural labourer, and so there is
no one below the farmer. Now, how can a number of families of this
kind, who are all completely on a footing of social equality, and
also, if the word may be allowed to pass, pretty nearly of possessive
equality, best educate their children? In a new country there are
no foundation schools and few private ones—that is to say, to all
practical purposes, no schools at all. There is, therefore, but one way
of getting what they want—that is, by establishing schools of their
own; and this can only be done by taxing themselves. There is no great
sagacity shown in seeing this; and, as a matter of fact, everyone in
America sees it. It is not seen more clearly in Massachusetts than it
is in Ohio, or in Ohio than in California, or in California than in
Colorado. I understood, indeed, that the schools of California (I had
no opportunity of examining them myself) are the best in the Union;
and the statement is not incredible, for the Californians are a people
who will have nothing that is second-rate. One can hardly get now at
any price a real Havana cigar in London or Paris, because the people
of San Francisco will always pay the best price for the best thing.
And in the territory, for it is not yet the State of Colorado, in the
mountains, at Denver, and on the plains, two thousand miles away from
Massachusetts, I saw the common-school system at work, in places where
Judge Lynch is still the guardian of society in its infancy. No motive
of patriotism or philanthropy can act in this universal and unfailing
way. It can only be done by all, and in the same way by all, because
it is obviously for the interest of all to do it, and because they
could not get what they want in any other way. It is not forced on the
rural townships by the general government of the State, but it permits
them to tax themselves, if they please. And as they happen to raise
the money they require by a tax, it becomes easy to ascertain exactly
what the amount is; and the figures, as they include all that is paid
for educating the children of a large State, appear to represent a
very considerable sum, although, when it is looked into, it is seen to
be the cheapest work of the kind that is anywhere done. The State of
Illinois has now perhaps 10,000 schools, not far from 20,000 teachers,
and about 600,000 scholars. The aggregate sum with which the people
tax themselves for these schools and scholars appears very great, but
in reality there are no other 600,000 scholars so cheaply educated.
Our two schools of Eton and Harrow cost the parents of the children
educated at them more than these 10,000 schools cost the people of
Illinois.
[Sidenote: _The Mother of the Invention._]
And when we come to look into the working of the American school system
in the cities, we see that nothing could be done without the motives
I have spoken of, as never failing to bring about one uniform result
in the country. The artisans, and tradesmen, and small professional
men know that this is the best and cheapest way for them to get the
kind of education they desire for their children. They are the great
majority, and so of course the thing is done. There is a general
tax, and common schools are established. And, as they have some
advantages besides that of cheapness, they are used by many of the
upper class—I mean merchants, bankers, and successful professional
men, especially those who wish to stand well with the democracy. None
can be excluded from the schools (indeed no one wishes it), and so
they are open to the lowest class of the town population, with which
there is nothing to correspond in the country. In truth, so far from
wishing for any exclusion, great efforts are made to get hold of the
children of ignorant and vicious parents, both from philanthropic and
from self-interested motives, because in cities where every man has
the suffrage, a vicious and ignorant population is doubly inconvenient
and dangerous. Hitherto, however, the Americans have hardly succeeded
in the towns better than we have, in their efforts to bring these
children into their schools. At New York they have supplemented the
common schools with a system of industrial schools, intended especially
for those who would never enter the common schools. But all that can
be said of them is, that they have met the evil they were intended
to remedy to some small extent. At Chicago, I was told by the able
superintendent of the city schools that there were 20,000 children in
that city who frequented no school. And this is a growing evil in all
the great cities of the Union.
[Sidenote: _Abundance of Good Teaching Material._]
The Americans, then, very wisely (in fact they could do nothing better,
perhaps nothing else) have established, in the country and in the
cities, common schools for their own children. What we are called
upon to do is a totally different thing; and this I insist upon as
another great distinction between what they have done, and what we are
doing, in this matter. We have to establish schools for other people’s
children. With them those who pay for the school profit by it. With
us those who will pay for the school will never derive any advantage
from it. The point for us to settle is, How shall farmers and landlords
be made to tax themselves for the education of labourers’ children;
and how shall the householders, and professional men, and tradesmen
of a town be made to tax themselves for the schooling of the children
of artisans and operatives? The Americans may be left to manage the
business themselves, for it is their own affair. But we cannot: with us
the law must be imperative, not permissive, and constant supervision
will be needed; and to secure this right of supervision, it will
probably be found necessary that the State should itself contribute
largely towards the maintenance of the school.
The Americans possess an advantage in their schools to which there is
at present no prospect of our attaining. The teachers of our elementary
schools are taken from the humblest and most uneducated stratum of
society, and have to be trained for their work. They have none of the
traditions of mental culture, and their sentiments must in a great
measure be those of their relations and friends. The humbleness of
their origin does also considerably detract from the social position
it would be desirable they should occupy. In America a like origin
would not have the same effect; but here the daughter of a labourer
or mechanic has not the influence with the parents of the children,
or the respect shown to her, which would be readily conceded if she
were the daughter of a farmer or tradesman; and it is from these two
classes, whose social position is much higher in America than it is
here, that the greater part of their teachers are drawn. They come from
an educated class, and are entitled by their antecedents, as well as
by their office, to some position, and they know how to assert it and
maintain it. They have no more timidity or _mauvaise honte_ than their
friends. They are full of energy and ambition, and there is always
animation in their teaching. It is quite impossible for any country to
have better material for teachers than America has. And they appear to
have an inexhaustible supply of it. ‘Our half a million of teachers’
is not an uncommon expression among them; but though this must pass
for an American figure of speech, still what it implies is true, that
whatever number of teachers may be required will always be forthcoming.
I once heard an American bachelor in this country affirm that whenever
he thought of marrying he should, other things being equal, give the
preference to a lady who had for some years been a school-teacher. I
do not know to what extent this sentiment is shared by my friend’s
countrymen, or whether the lady-teachers of American schools are aware
of the existence of this feeling in their favour; but at all events it
shows that the social position of teachers is regarded as good.
[Sidenote: _Grading, an Improvement on Classes._]
Of course it is a mere truism to say that American teachers would be
more efficient if they had had more special training. But whatever
their deficiency may be in this respect, the advantages I have just
spoken of as possessed by them are very manifest; and as soon as you
enter an American school (this may be said generally of those in the
North), you feel at once that you are surrounded by quite a different
atmosphere from anything you are familiar with at home.
Another advantage their schools possess over ours is, that they are
what, in American school-phraseology, is called ‘graded.’ This, unlike
what I have just been mentioning, may be transplanted to our side of
the water. I need not now explain what grading means, because I have
spoken more than once of this method of arranging and teaching schools.
It ensures much more careful teaching than our method, and that the
whole of the school-time shall be devoted to study. I know that there
are some who have recently said that it fails in individualising
each case. I see, however, no force in this remark, because I was
struck with the degree to which the very reverse of it resulted
from the adoption of the method. It must be compared with the only
other alternative for schools—that of the class system—and a little
consideration will show that it is the class system perfected; for
it is simply the assigning of one class to one person, and obliging
that person to devote the whole of the school-time, from the first to
the last minute, to teaching that one class. It prevents the scholars
having any idle time while they are in school. It necessitates a great
deal of oral teaching. It concentrates the teacher’s whole attention on
one point, as well as on one class.
It does also very much cheapen the cost of education. But this is not a
benefit that will, among ourselves, be so understood and felt as that
there should be any desire to secure it, until we have rate-supported
schools. Our adoption of the rate to some extent, and in some form or
other, can only be a question of time, for it is the only just method
of supporting open schools; and the people will be averse to the
schools in which their children are educated bearing an eleemosynary
character. And when that day shall have come, then the majority of the
rate-payers here, just as in America, will be in favour of the system,
which, while it very much improves the teaching, will at the same time
very much diminish its cost, by substituting where parishes are small
one school for many.
Any remarks on American schools would be very incomplete if nothing
were said on the exclusion from them of all direct or dogmatic
religious teaching. The general rule is that a small portion, sometimes
limited to ten verses, of the Holy Scriptures should be read daily,
and that this should be followed by the Lord’s Prayer. Some cities
and districts allow more latitude for the prayer, a choice of certain
forms that are provided being permitted, or even an extempore prayer
founded on the Lord’s Prayer. In some schools moral, as distinguished
from religious or doctrinal teaching, may be founded on the portion of
Scripture that has been read. Christianity, therefore, and the Bible
are not ignored, as much being done as can be done in schools that are
supported equally by many Churches differing from one another in their
interpretation of the Bible. The masters, however, do not in all cases
avail themselves of the opportunities allowed them for reading the
Holy Scriptures and for prayer. Among the laity there is spreading a
feeling of disapprobation at such omissions.
[Sidenote: _Non-religious not Irreligious._]
But what is the effect of this limitation of religious teaching? It
must be remembered that these are all day schools. The children are
present in school only during school hours. They are under the parental
roof every night, at all their meals, and during the morning and
evening of each day. The teacher, therefore, is not _in loco parentis_,
as he is in the case of the child who boards and lodges with him, and
is entirely entrusted to his care. The parents still have ample time
and opportunities for all the religious instruction they desire to give
their children, and then there is the Sunday, the Sunday-school, and
the teaching of the ministers of religion. The question, therefore, as
far as the primary schools are concerned, narrows itself to this—Is
any irreligious effect produced by the absence of all direct dogmatic
teaching from a school in which the children are only present a few
hours a day, and where they go for the purpose of learning to read,
write, and cipher, with a little geography and music? I do not think
that much evil results from this, nor do I think that any very great
amount of good would result from any attempt to alter the present
system.
In the grammar school, where the instruction is not so mechanical, the
conditions of the question are somewhat different. But even here I do
not think that the tendency of the system is irreligious. I cannot
believe that the cultivation of the intellect, even if there be nothing
addressed directly and formally to their spiritual instincts, is, in
the case of children so circumstanced as these, necessarily evil and
hostile to religion. It would be so if they were confined for all the
year, except the vacations, to the walls of a boarding-school, and the
subject of religion never alluded to. But here again, as was observed
with respect to the scholars of the primary school, the influences of
home, of the church, and of the Sunday-school, ought to render the
silence of the week-day school in a great measure innocuous. And this
is the more likely to be the case with the scholars of the grammar
school, as their parents do for the most part belong to a higher grade
in society.
[Sidenote: _What is Really Taught._]
But if the system be tried in the most legitimate of all ways, that
is by its fruits, I do not think that we shall have any reason to be
dissatisfied with it. The sums raised voluntarily every year in the
United States for the building and maintenance of churches, and for
the support of the ministers of religion, is quite unequalled by what
is collected in the same way among any population of equal amount in
the world. It is impossible to ascertain a point of this kind, but I
believe that it is far greater than what is contributed voluntarily by
the whole of the Latin race. Almost the first buildings raised in the
newest settlements are the churches. No one, unless he has experienced
it, can tell what are the feelings and thoughts that spontaneously
arise on finding yourself, as you enter such a place as Denver, beyond
the prairies and the plains, as it were, welcomed by the Houses of
God, which are the most conspicuous buildings of the place; and then,
again, a few miles further on, as you pass through the first gorge of
the mountains at Golden City, to find yourself surrounded by a cluster
of three churches; and when you have got up among the little mining
towns, perched like eagles’ nests in the clefts of the mountains, still
to find that the object which first of all attracts your attention is
the little tower or spire, albeit of wood, that marks the building
consecrated to God’s service. I was astonished at the amount collected
in the offertory at many of the churches in which I attended the
service. I found the Sunday as well observed in America as I ever saw
it anywhere else. I know that there are some facts to be set down on
the other side, but they do not counterbalance what I have just been
pointing out. And so the conclusion that I arrived at on this question
was, that I should have liked some direct Christian teaching in the
primary schools, and still more in the grammar schools, but this I
knew was impossible. And on the whole I was not dissatisfied with the
results of the American system of education on the religious character
of the people.
Only one point remains—What, after all, do these schools teach? It has
been lately objected to them that they aim at information, and not at
the development of the faculties; and that they do not cultivate the
taste. We are speaking of the common schools, and so of course are
thinking of what school education in America does for the artisan and
labouring class, and the lower stratum of the middle class; that is,
children corresponding to those who are taught in our national schools,
and those of a somewhat higher grade in society. Are the faculties
(for that is the word insisted on by the most recent writer on the
subject) of these two classes at all more developed here at home by our
schools, than they are in America by their common schools? Or what
fruit does our system bear among these classes in the refinement and
the cultivation of the taste? Or, to put the question in the ordinary
way, Are these classes better taught, rendered better able to use their
wits, and rescued to a greater extent from the brutalising effects of
ignorance among ourselves, or among them? Could the American system do
more for these classes? If it could, I should be disposed to say it
might do more for them on the very point where it is alleged that it
does comparatively too much, that of giving information. But I do not
say this because I thoroughly approved of so much time being devoted
not in the least to imparting information, but to what is the main
point in the schooling of those who must leave school very young—the
teaching them to read, to write, and to cipher, with accuracy and
facility. Among ourselves there is an enormous amount of failure in
these primary matters; among the Americans there is very little failure
in them. They teach their scholars to write with so much ease, that we
may be sure they will never forget or lay aside the use of the pen;
and they teach them to read with so much ease, and so much with the
understanding, that we may be sure they will continue to read when they
have left school. Do our schools accomplish this?
[Sidenote: _The Dawn of a Better Day._]
For ‘the development of the faculties,’ which are big words with rather
indistinct meaning, I would substitute the concentration of the powers
of the mind on special subjects, such as poetry, history, classical
literature, philology, and the different branches of physical science,
and I would say that the Americans as a nation have not yet arrived at
the point where we may expect much either of this, or of ‘refinement of
taste.’ At present all their mental strength and activity is required
for the grand work of bringing a new world into subjection to man.
They become settlers in the wilderness, or engineers and machinists,
or merchants, or professional men, or newspaper-writers. All who enter
on these employments are wanted in them, and can get a living by them.
They invite and receive and remunerate all the energetic minds of the
nation. But it will not always be so. As soon as the continent begins
to fill up, and extension ceases, then multitudes of active minds will
not find themselves called to the same employments as those of the
present generation are. The battle with nature will then be over. By
that time, too, wealth will have accumulated and become hereditary in
many families. There will be many to appreciate, as well as many to
devote themselves to art and literature. It is then that we may expect
that the American mind and American culture will bear their fruit. They
will then, I believe, have schools and styles of art of their own,
and a literature of their own, as untrammelled as that of Greece, and
richer and more varied than that of any other age or country. The day
for these things has not yet come, but we see already the symptoms of
the dawn; and when it has come, I think there will be no ground for
complaining of ‘want of development of the faculties,’ or of ‘want of
refinement of taste’ in America.
* * * * *
I trust that no word has been inadvertently set down in this book,
should it be so fortunate as to find some readers among those who
treated me with so much hospitality and kindness, which can in any
way be displeasing to an American. If any from that side shall have
accompanied me through its pages, now that the time for saying
‘farewell’ has arrived, my one wish is, that they may have come to look
upon me somewhat in the light in which one of my Boston acquaintances
told me a week’s intercourse had brought him to regard me, that is, ‘as
one of themselves.’
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
Transcriber’s Notes
pg 136 Changed: bcomes on that account more disappointing
to: becomes on that account more disappointing
pg 229 Changed: gallopping over a plain
to: galloping over a plain