THE SCHOOLMASTER AT HOME AND ABROAD.

The lamentable deficiency of the commonest rudiments of education, which

still exists among the humbler classes of this nation, is never so

darkly apparent as when we compare their condition with that of people

of similar rank in other countries. When we do so, we find that England

stands the lowest in the scale of what truly must be looked upon as

_Civilisation_; for she provides fewer means for promoting it than any

of her neighbours. With us, education is a commodity to be trafficked

in: abroad, it is a duty. Here, schoolmasters are perfectly

irresponsible except to their paymasters: in other countries, teachers

are appointed by the state, and a rigid supervision is maintained over

the trainers of youth, both as regards competency and moral conduct. In

England, whoever is too poor to buy the article education, can get none

of it for himself or his offspring: in other parts of Europe, either the

government (as in Germany), or public opinion (as in America), enforces

it upon the youthful population.

What are the consequences? One is revealed by a comparison between the

proportion of scholars in elementary schools to the entire population of

other countries, and that in our own. Taking the whole of northern

Europe—including Scotland—and France and Belgium (where education is at

a low ebb), we find that to every 2¼ of the population, there is one

child acquiring the rudiments of knowledge; while in England there is

only one such pupil to every _fourteen_ inhabitants.

It has been calculated that there are, at the present day in England and

Wales, nearly 8,000,000 persons who can neither read nor write—that is

to say, nearly one quarter of the population. Also, that of all the

children between five and fourteen, more than one half attend no place

of instruction. These statements—compiled by Mr. Kay, from official and

other authentic sources, for his work on the Social Condition and

Education of the Poor in England and Europe, would be hard to believe,

if we had not to encounter in our every-day life degrees of illiteracy

which would be startling, if we were not thoroughly used to it. Wherever

we turn, ignorance, not always allied to poverty, stares us in the face.

If we look in the Gazette, at the list of partnerships dissolved, not a

month passes but some unhappy man, rolling perhaps in wealth, but

wallowing in ignorance, is put to the _experimentum crucis_ of ‘his

mark.’ The number of petty jurors—in rural districts especially—who can

only sign with a cross is enormous. It is not unusual to see parish

documents of great local importance defaced with the same humiliating

symbol by persons whose office shows them to be not only ‘men of mark,’

but men of substance. We have printed already specimens of the partial

ignorance which passes under the ken of the Post Office authorities, and

we may venture to assert, that such specimens of penmanship and

orthography are not to be matched in any other country in Europe. A

housewife in humble life need only turn to the file of her tradesmen’s

bills to discover hieroglyphics which render them so many arithmetical

puzzles. In short, the practical evidences of the low ebb to which the

plainest rudiments of education in this country has fallen, are too

common to bear repetition. We cannot pass through the streets, we cannot

enter a place of public assembly, or ramble in the fields, without the

gloomy shadow of Ignorance sweeping over us. The rural population is

indeed in a worse plight than the other classes. We quote—with the

attestation of our own experience—the following passage from one of a

series of articles which have recently appeared in a morning

newspaper:—‘Taking the adult class of agricultural labourers, it is

almost impossible to exaggerate the ignorance in which they live and

move and have their being. As they work in the fields, the external

world has some hold upon them through the medium of their senses; but to

all the higher exercises of intellect, they are perfect strangers. You

cannot address one of them without being at once painfully struck with

the intellectual darkness which enshrouds him. There is in general

neither speculation in his eyes, nor intelligence in his countenance.

The whole expression is more that of an animal than of a man. He is

wanting, too, in the erect and independent bearing of a man. When you

accost him, if he is not insolent—which he seldom is—he is timid and

shrinking, his whole manner showing that he feels himself at a distance

from you, greater than should separate any two classes of men. He is

often doubtful when you address, and suspicious when you question him;

he is seemingly oppressed with the interview, while it lasts, and

obviously relieved when it is over. These are the traits which I can

affirm them to possess as a class, after having come in contact with

many hundreds of farm labourers. They belong to a generation for whose

intellectual culture little or nothing was done. As a class, they have

no amusements beyond the indulgence of sense. In nine cases out of ten,

recreation is associated in their minds with nothing higher than

sensuality. I have frequently asked clergymen and others, if they often

find the adult peasant reading for his own or others’ amusement? The

invariable answer is, that such a sight is seldom or never witnessed. In

the first place, _the great bulk of them cannot read_. In the next, a

large proportion of those who can, do so with too much difficulty to

admit of the exercise being an amusement to them. Again, few of those

who can read with comparative ease, have the taste for doing so. It is

but justice to them to say, that many of those who cannot read, have

bitterly regretted, in my hearing, their inability to do so. I shall

never forget the tone in which an old woman in Cornwall intimated to me

what a comfort it would now be to her, could she only read her Bible in

her lonely hours.’

We now turn to the high lights of the picture as presented abroad, and

which, from their very brightness, throw our own intellectual gloom into

deeper shade. Mr. Kay observes in the work we have already cited—

‘It is a great fact, however much we may be inclined to doubt it, that

throughout Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria, Bohemia, Wirtemberg, Baden, Hesse

Darmstadt, Hesse Cassel, Gotha, Nassau, Hanover, Denmark, Switzerland,

Norway, and the Austrian Empire, all the children are actually at this

present time attending school, and are receiving a careful, religious,

moral, and intellectual education, from highly educated and efficient

teachers. Over the vast tract of country which I have mentioned, as well

as in Holland, and the greater part of France, _all_ the children above

six years of age are daily acquiring useful knowledge and good habits

under the _influence_ of moral, religious, and learned teachers. ALL the

youth of the greater part of these countries, below the age of

twenty-one years, can read, write, and cypher, and know the Bible

History, and the history of their own country. No children are left idle

and dirty in the streets of the towns—there is no class of children to

be compared in any respect to the children who frequent our “ragged

schools”——all the children, even of the poorest parents, are, in a great

part of these countries, in dress, appearance, cleanliness, and manners,

as polished and civilised as the children of our middle classes; the

children of the poor in Germany are so civilised that the rich often

send their children to the schools intended for the poor; and, lastly,

in a great part of Germany and Switzerland, the children of the poor are

receiving a _better_ education than that given in England to the

children of the greater part of our middle classes.’

‘I remember one day,’ says Mr. Kay in another page, ‘when walking near

Berlin in the company of Herr Hintz, a professor in Dr. Diesterweg’s

Normal College, and of another teacher, we saw a poor woman cutting up,

in the road, logs of wood for winter use. My companions pointed her out

to me and said, “Perhaps you will scarcely believe it, but in the

neighbourhood of Berlin, poor women, like that one, read translations of

Sir Walter Scott’s Novels, and many of the interesting works of your

language, besides those of the principal writers of Germany.” This

account was afterwards confirmed by the testimony of several other

persons. Often and often have I seen the poor cab-drivers of Berlin,

while waiting for a fare, amusing themselves by reading German books,

which they had brought with them in the morning, expressly for the

purpose of supplying amusement and occupation for their leisure hours.

In many parts of these countries, the peasants and the workmen of the

towns attend regular weekly lectures or weekly classes, where they

practise singing or chanting, or learn mechanical drawing, history, or

science. The intelligence of the poorer classes of these countries is

shown by their manners. The whole appearance of a German peasant who has

been brought up under this system, _i. e._ of any of the poor who have

not attained the age of thirty-five years, is very different to that of

our own peasantry. The German, Swiss, or Dutch peasant, who has grown up

to manhood under the new system, and since the old feudal system was

overthrown, is not nearly so often, as with us, distinguished by an

uncouth dialect. On the contrary, they speak as their teachers speak,

clearly, without hesitation, and grammatically. They answer questions

politely, readily, and with the ease which shows they have been

accustomed to mingle with men of greater wealth and of better education

than themselves. They do not appear embarrassed, still less do they

appear gawkish or stupid, when addressed. If, in asking a peasant a

question, a stranger, according to the polite custom of the country,

raises his hat, the first words of reply are the quietly uttered ones,

“I pray you, Sir, be covered.” A Prussian peasant is always polite and

respectful to a stranger, but quite as much at his ease as when speaking

to one of his own fellows.’

Surely the contrast presented between the efforts of the schoolmaster

abroad and his inactivity at home—refuting, as it does, our hourly

boastings of ‘intellectual progress,’—should arouse us, energetically

and practically, to the work of Educational extension.

Household words, No. 4, April 20, 1850 · 第 6 / 12 题