The Austrian government has for some years been exerting itself, in
connection with the clergy, for the improvement and spread of
education in all the provinces of the empire, being anxious to do all
in their power to save the country from those excesses which are so
often found in connection with ignorance. As an Englishman, living in
friendly intercourse with members of the imperial family, and many
persons high in the administration, I am happy to avow my thorough
conviction, that such, pure and simple, is the object held in view in
the establishment of schools throughout the empire, and above all, in
that of the infant schools, which are now planted in every place where
there exists a sufficiency of population. I have all along taken a
deep interest in these little seminaries in the kingdoms of Bohemia
and Hungary, and am highly sensible of the liberal and humane
principles on which they are conducted.
Each contains from two to three hundred children, between one and a
half and five years of age, all of them being the offspring of the
humbler classes, and many of them orphans. All are instructed in the
same room, but classed apart; that is, the girls occupy one half of
the apartment, and the boys the other, leaving an avenue between them,
which is occupied by the instructors. The boys are under the
superintendence of a master, and the girls under that of a mistress.
Both, however, teach or attend to the various necessities of either,
as circumstances may require. Infants too young to learn, and those
who are sent, either because they are orphans, or because the extreme
poverty of the mother obliges her to do outwork, are amused with toys
and pictures, all, however, of an instructive nature, and which the
elder children delight to exhibit and explain to them in their own
quaint little ways. I have frequently seen an infant, scarcely able to
walk, brought in for the first time, and left on one of the benches of
the school-room, surrounded by those already initiated. The alarm its
new position occasioned to the little creature, at thus suddenly
finding itself abandoned by the only person with whom it was familiar,
in the midst of a multitude of unknown faces, can easily be imagined.
A flood of tears was the first vent to its feelings, accompanied by a
petulant endeavour to follow its parent or nurse. It was immediately,
however, surrounded by a score of little comforters, who, full of the
remembrance of past days, when their fears and their sadness were in
like manner soothed and dissipated, would use a thousand little arts
of consolation--one presenting a toy or picture, another repeating
what has almost become a formula of kindly re-assurance, till smiles
and sunshine would succeed to tears and clouds upon that little brow,
and confidence and content to fear and mistrust. I have often seen the
day thus pass with neophytes as a dream, only to be broken when the
parent or nurse, returning to take them home, found them in the centre
of a little joyous group, the gayest of the gay!
One, after all, cannot wonder at this change, when he contrasts the
scenery of the interior of an infant school with that of the
generality of poor homes. The child, making, as it were, its first
voyage in life, has here been introduced, not merely to a society
conducted on principles of gentleness and kindness, but to a fairyland
of marvels for the fascination of its intellectual faculties. From the
ceiling to the _dado_--the wainscotted space at the base, for in
Hungary this old arrangement is still maintained in its fullest
form--the walls are covered with pictures of scripture scenes and
objects in natural history; while the _dado_ itself, terminating above
in a shelf, exhibits busts, stuffed animals, and pots of flowers--the
whole place, indeed, being a kind of museum, specially adapted for the
enjoyment as well as instruction of the young. At first, filled with
wonder and delight, the infant begins to study the meaning and
character of these objects: after a short attendance, you find they
can tell the names of many, and speak many things regarding them. One
day, while attending a Bohemian infant school, which was dismissing,
and as I was examining some of the birds upon the shelf, a little hand
was insinuated into mine, as if to get it warmed--as is often done by
children--when, looking down, I beheld a bright, intelligent face,
apparently eager to make some communication. 'Tuzok, tuzok!'
('Bustard, bustard!') said a little voice. Encouraged by my smile,
there was immediately added: 'Ez tuzok, ez mazzar honban, tisza fetöl
jönn;' ('That is a bustard from Hungary, from the river Teiss.')
Another little one, attracted by this observation, pointed to the
elephant, and said in German: 'Und der ist elephant: er kommt von
weiten, von ausland--_von morgenland_!' ('And that is the elephant: it
comes from far, from a foreign land--from the _morning-land_!')--that
is, the East!
The children learn the first rudiments of religion, duty and obedience
to their parents and teachers, spelling, &c. After the expiration of
the time allotted to them here, they are sent to the normal schools,
where they are instructed in all the various branches of education
which are necessary to fit them for any situation or profession for
which their several talents seem to have destined them.
All parents of the lower classes are _compelled_ by law to send their
children to school at a certain age. If they are in easy
circumstances, they contribute a small sum monthly towards the
expenses of the establishment. Those who are unable to pay the full
sum, pay the half or a part; others, again, such as a great portion of
day-labourers with large families, and who cannot even supply their
children with necessary food and clothing, pay _nothing_: it is merely
necessary for these to be furnished with a certificate of their
incapacity to pay for the education of their children, and the state
takes the whole charge of their instruction on itself.
We have already spoken of the deep interest we have taken in the
progress of the infant schools. We visit them frequently, and attend
all the examinations. On entering, it is scarcely possible to
recognise in clean, orderly inmates, the dirty, ragged, quarrelling,
scratching, screaming children of the back-streets, which, however,
they were only a short time ago. All is changed: the miserable hut,
the narrow street, and muddy lane, for a pretty room full of pleasant
objects; the timid look and distrustful scowl, for sunny cheerfulness
and open confidence. There is no unkind distinction among the lower
classes in this country, and by this I mean the whole of the Austrian
states. There being only two classes--the nobles and the commons--none
of the commons despise each other, however poor or humble their
situation may be. The barefooted orphan, kept and educated by charity
or the state, is not an object of contempt or ridicule to the child of
the prosperous artisan, who stands clothed in its little snow-white
frock and pink ribbons beside its less fortunate companion. Neither is
any distinction made on account of religion. The infant schools of the
empire are for the children of all the poor--Catholic, Lutheran,
evangelical, &c.; and the two belonging to Presburg, to which we here
particularly allude, contain from sixty to seventy of the latter in
every two hundred.
I was present at an examination of one of our Presburg seminaries in
September last. A number of girls and boys, from three to five years
of age, with a very few a little older, who had come in comparatively
late, were subjected to the usual questioning in the various branches
of their very elementary erudition. Some of the queries proved beyond
the powers of the generality of the children; but this led to no
expression of dejection or awkwardness. They evidently all endeavoured
to do their very best. It was interesting to observe, that so far from
pining to see a cleverer neighbour answer what they had failed in,
they seemed to feel a triumph when, after a general difficulty, it was
at length found that _some one_ could give the right answer--shewing
that they might have a feeling of emulation as to the honour of the
school, but none as between one pupil and another. On several
occasions, when some unusually intelligent little creature would come
from a back-form, and solve a question which had bewildered those in
front, there was a sensible expression of delight over the whole
school.
In a far-off corner sat a little boy, poorly dressed, and of pallid
countenance, but with a keen and intelligent eye, which had attracted
my notice from the beginning. The more difficult the questions grew,
his eye was fixed with the keener gaze on the face of the master.
Several times I observed a puzzled child cast backwards to him a look,
as expressing the assurance that _he_ was able to solve all
difficulties. At length, on a slight motion of the master's hand, the
little brown boy was seen to dart from his obscure recess, and pass
rapidly across the forms, while his companions eagerly made way for
him, clapping their hands as in anticipation of some brilliant
achievement. In an instant, the boy stood before the master, his dark
eye full of anxious expression, but quite devoid of doubt or anxiety.
All our attention was at once directed to the half-clothed, barefooted
child, to whom the questions were now put, and by whom they were
answered with a promptitude and precision most wonderful. And who,
what was he, that little brown boy? Some did not care to ask, and
others said: 'Who would have thought that that little beggar-boy would
have been so smart!' But God has chosen the vile things (to man) of
this earth to become a bright and shining light to the world. We asked
who that little boy was, and the master smiled, shook his head, and
said: 'Oh, I scarcely know myself: it is a little boy the police have
sent us in lately from the streets. It is not above three weeks since
he came, but he is a good and very clever child--very desirous to
learn, and never forgets anything!'
I was affected by this trivial circumstance, reflecting how many
little brown boys like this there must be in various countries called
civilised, who, for want of a refuge where love and light are
predominant, remain the outcasts of the streets, and become the prey
of vice and ignorance.