Sydney had now the University, with Dr. Woolley, a scholar of
reputation, at its head. There were also many private schools for young
men destined for the Church, with men like Mr. Baly, an Oxford man, and
Dr. Forrest of the King School, Parramatta, and Moore College at
Liverpool, to prepare them for it. Ladies’ schools were numerous; the
Misses Moore, Flower, Thompson and Cooksey were doing good work,
preparing young Australian women for their duties. The national school
system for the masses had not yet been introduced, which, I regret to
say, provides only a strictly secular education. A system which entirely
puts religion aside can only end in the repudiation of that
responsibility which raises mankind above the lower order of animal
creation. The first lesson to inculcate in every child is obedience to
God and His laws; obedience to man and his laws then becomes a part of
the child’s nature. Another grave objection to the national system is,
that it is not for the poorer class exclusively. Men with large incomes
send their children to the State schools, paying merely the same rates
as the poor man. Only imagine men with incomes of £800 a year sending
their children to these schools! Those whose incomes are sufficiently
large to enable them to be responsible for the cost of their children’s
education should not rely on State aid. These children are taught not
only reading, writing, and arithmetic, but languages, mathematics,
algebra, drawing, music, and drill, for a few pence per week. Some of
the parents may give their children a year or two at a private school to
finish them; but we venture to say the national school system has bent
the “twig” in such a way as to preclude almost any hope of straightening
it, except in very rare instances. Teachers too are fallible, and are
liable to show more interest in the well-to-do man’s child than in that
of the poor man. The Government schools have been the means of lifting
from the shoulders of thriving and even rich men the responsibility of
looking after the education of their children, and the poor man’s child
is educated in such a way that in nine cases out of ten he despises his
parents, and has gained the notion that honest labour is beneath him.
Where the parents are in good circumstances and pay proper attention to
the religious training of their children at home, they may not be
injured by the lack of it at school; but in the majority of cases the
good accomplished at home is neutralised at school. This applies to the
poor as well as the rich, only as the poor are often too wearied after
their day’s labour to give much attention to the religious education of
their children, how much more necessary is it in their case that it
should be attended to in school.
That there have always been different grades in society, that it is
necessary to the wellbeing of all that it should be so, and that these
grades should bear a numerical proportion to each other which can be
tolerably well fixed, history bears out. Does the system of education in
the national schools tend to keep up this healthy proportion, or does it
upset the social economy, in which large communities can only exist with
safety to the majority? Is it a healthy state when Jack considers
himself as good as his master, if not better? Yet this is the effect
produced by public school teaching--a system of levelling. By all means
let the State provide a sound, plain education for the children of those
whose means are too small to allow of their defraying the expense of it.
A certain period of attendance should be compulsory, and religious
instruction should not be neglected.
When every church had its day school, it was easy to get domestics, male
and female, plainly educated and well trained, or youths desirous of
learning a business. I know many homes in the colony now where the heads
of families were so educated, who are an example and blessing to all
around them, holding good positions and training their children wisely
and well.
The Roman Catholic Church is far wiser than the Protestant Church, as in
every town and country parish where a church is built there is a school
also. They know how necessary it is to sow the seed of religious belief
with their daily lessons. To my fellow-Protestants in New South Wales or
elsewhere I say, keep your church schools in every parish, and to what
nobler or better use could the wealthy devote a portion of their riches
than by the endowment of church schools? There cannot be a doubt that
good training in the early life of a people minimises the necessity for
asylums and gaols.
Many will consider my views on the national school question narrow, and
ask, Why should the poor children who are clever be deprived of
opportunities for cultivating their talents? My answer is, If there is
talent, it will, as it always has done, make a way for itself, and did
long before this system was thought of. Difficulties are to the talented
boy or girl incentives to the exertion necessary to overcome them, and
help to form the character. It would be well, after these qualities of
talent have developed, that the State should give aid in the way of
scholarships or otherwise.
After all, the knowledge acquired at such schools is very superficial;
too much is attempted, and the results prove without doubt, “A little
knowledge is a dangerous thing.”
We had several clever and eloquent men in the Sydney churches from Great
Britain and some educated in the colony--men who not only performed
their Sunday duties, but worked throughout the week without
intermission. Parishes then covered very much larger areas than they do
at present.
The Roman Catholic clergy, under their great and good head, Archbishop
Polding, had worked wonders for their flock. St. Mary’s Cathedral was at
this time a fine building, St. Patrick’s and others were commenced.
Presbyterian, Congregational, and Wesleyans, all had large and
well-filled chapels. The University was now finished, and the affiliated
colleges in prospect. Many new and extensive buildings in the principal
streets sprang up like magic; but the impetus given to advancement was
more especially noticeable in the suburbs. Randwick was now formed into
streets; the Destitute Children’s Asylum, founded by Dr. Cuthill, was
finished; the racecourse formed; Wooloomooloo nearly covered with
houses; William Street, where but a short time since there were only
private houses, was now being converted into a thoroughfare of shops;
Waverley and Surrey Hills were fast becoming populous neighbourhoods.
Cleveland House, which I remember surrounded by gardens and shrubberies,
and standing in its many acres of paddock, was being rapidly cut up; the
Redfern Railway Station and station yard were formed on a portion of it;
the Silent City close by still holds its silent warnings in the midst of
man’s progress, “Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther.”
We had occasional visits from celebrities, such as Anna Bishop,
Catherine Hayes, G. W. Brooke, and others. Madame Bushelle, Carandini,
and Sara Flower were our own; the latter having been with us since 1852.
What a voice she had, and what a splendid teacher! I met her at her
brother’s a few weeks after her arrival in Australia, before she had
made her _début_ before a Sydney audience. Poor thing! what a sad end
was hers; but through years of work and privation she never lost her
voice. We had an excellent opera company which she joined--in which were
Squires, Madame Escott, Farquharson, Beaumont, with many others, as my
contemporaries will remember.
Lovers of music had a great treat about this time in a series of
concerts conducted by Lavenu, and held in the grand hall of our
University. The oratorios of the “Messiah,” “Creation,” “Moses in
Egypt,” and other works of the best composers were rendered in a
masterly manner. The choirs of the Sydney churches which joined with the
musical societies of Sydney, both vocal and instrumental, were most
efficient. The opera company supplied the leading solos, Sara Flower
being a host in herself--Mendelssohn’s music being her speciality, as
she made her first appearance in it at the Exeter Hall concerts. Her
grand contralto voice filled the hall, and many musical critics remarked
that no one ever had sung or ever could sing such music better. This
bringing together all the musical talent of Sydney was of inestimable
benefit to our young Australians, giving fresh impetus to their decided
taste for it.
The fine arts at this period had not made much headway; still, scattered
over the country, were many pictures of merit by colonial artists.
Architects were not numerous, but now there are several of great
ability. In criticising their works, people are apt to forget the
difficulties they have had to contend with, the absence of works of
renowned men, and the distance from the countries where the finest
models and examples are to be seen and studied. Some who have designed
works here have never had these advantages, never having been away from
their native land. Again I was with my old friends, James and Maria,
close to my father’s old home at Redfern; this visit was most thoroughly
enjoyed. One day we made a trip to Parramatta by train. I recalled my
girlhood as I saw the familiar streets and houses of this old town, with
its old-fashioned buildings without verandahs,--similar to those I pass
on the road in this Hampshire village,--the trim little gardens full of
flowers, the bricked kitchens, and old-world appearances. Parramatta is,
next to Sydney, the oldest town in Australia, and even now retains many
of its primitive features; the Domain or Park with its avenue of oaks;
its old-fashioned Government House; and its factory buildings still
left. There is some charming country round it, well cultivated, with
orchards, vineyards, and the splendid orangeries, with their golden
fruit. My title does not appear such a misnomer, taking into account the
many golden-hued flowers, rivers with beds of golden sand, nuggets of
gold and golden quartz--in fact, every touch of His, from glowing
sunrise to sunset, proclaims it such. We spent several afternoons on
board an American ship, which the captain and his young wife made their
home. Trade with America was now becoming extensive. This vessel only
carried cargo; but the saloon and cabins were fitted like a yacht’s.
When on board, I could see from her deck what a marvellous change had
taken place--the increase of wharves, the accommodation at the circular
quay much enlarged, and the greater number of ships. Balmain, Pyrmont,
and Wooloomooloo from the harbour appeared one mass of habitations;
North Shore still was country, and the wooded heights of Darling Point,
Edgecliff Road, and Woollahra remained partially free from vulgar bricks
and mortar.
How well I remember a dance we attended in Campbell Street, near the
Haymarket. Though there were cabs at this time, they were few in number,
but omnibuses plied through most of the principal suburbs. That week,
having been to a ball at Government House, Maria and I suggested, as
that had entailed considerable expense, we would go by the omnibus and
walk home by the railway works; so we started. Just as we entered our
friend’s hall, the Rev. Mr. Hose, acting warden of the University, met
us, reminding Maria she had promised him the first quadrille. “So I did;
take my cloak, Kate.” I did so; and being engaged for the same dance as
their _vis-à-vis_, hurried down just in time. The first figure ended,
and when Maria advanced for _L’été_, I saw my partner laughing. I looked
down, and there was Maria’s white satin boots with her goloshes over
them; I waited till she had finished the figure and then told her. No
one but an Irishwoman could have been so unconcerned. She stooped, took
them off, handed them to her partner, saying, “You see the consequence
of having a careful husband.” I felt it was a blessing the said husband
was at the other end of the room. We danced until nearly daylight, then
with the Rev. Mr. Hose we passed the Haymarket, just as the hay carts
were arriving. Nearly thirty years have passed since then, and Sydney
has now its “season” for fashionable people. Conventionality prevents
many social gatherings. Mrs. Grundy has found her way to the Antipodes,
interfering, as she always does, with that which is natural and innocent
by her verdict, “It is not considered good form.” Yet I trust our kind,
generous, and hearty Australian hospitality will never give in to her,
and become as fearful of her “What will people think or say” as they are
in England.