analytical chemist obtains practical lessons in patience and tenacity of purpose; he learns to methodise and systematise his views, while he is gradually led forward to a noble independence of mind." But here Professor Tyndall cries out for physics, and will be heard "here and elsewhere." Not a man, but of his school, shall show his nose in the British Parliament. Now, don't say, Eusebius, for in my mind's eye I see you are ready to say, that I am imposing upon you. "Mr Tyndall is so deeply impressed with the value of physics as a branch of education, that he considers it would be" (here are his words) "a wholesome and rational test to make admission to the House of Commons contingent on the knowledge of the prineiples of natural philosophy." Dear me, dear me! Wouldn't you like, Eusebius, to be present at the hustings-to hear Snip the tailor and Hodge the farmer question the candidate upon his philosophies; the high sheriff, of course, having a veto upon the qualification? But I am forgetting. Of course, on the old system of ignorant voters the thing is absurd; but we are to have new systems, and Snip the tailor and Hodge the farmer are to be highly educated-and perhaps be rival candidates with the dustman for a vacant professor's chair. Dr Hodgson's "leather" is political economy, which he urges upon the people to adopt, for a reason, I fear, you won't understand, because it is given in a word of the new philosophy, and not in any vocabulary you ever met with,-because it leads to the recognition of "the solidarity of the people." Don't think it a false print, and that a t is omitted after the first letter.

Don't you believe, now, that there will be a fight among the philosophers-I mean the professors - masters and inspectors. The last must be very pugnacious, for they will have to fight for their bread.

It is an old saying, "Two of a trade can never agree." The trade of education is no exception. Two gentlemen having heard a great deal of the progress of education, set out upon their travel of inquiry. These gentlemen are Mr Kay, brother to

VOL. LXXVII.-NO. CCCCLXXI.

Sir P. Kay Shuttleworth, who took so prominent a part as Secretary to the Privy Council Committee of Education; and Mr Laing, author of Notes of a Traveller. They went on the same errand. Did they both see alike the nakedness of the land or its fertility? Alas for the spectacles of the learned spies! One brings back monster grapes luxuriously tempting, the other's grapes are withered and sour. What is Kay's account of this "land of promise ?"-no, rather land of present perfection-the paradise of knowledge? I take his report as told in the Critic. "There are no dirty ragged children, no ignorant young men or women, no drunkenness, no bad manners, no gross poverty or suffering. Everybody is comfortable and happy, well educated and polite; and there is no mention of vice or immorality. As for the schoolmasters, they are all gentlemen, without ceasing to be peasants." I told you, Eusebius, the tailor, the farmer, and the dustman would be rival candidates for a professor's chair,-you see it has been realised abroad! But more yet. These peasant teachers are as good in manners and education as Oxford or Cambridge graduates. Ruskin must sink his graduateship-he is beaten out of the field-for they can do what he cannot, or never, that I know of, professed to do, which is generally the same thing as doing it "they can fiddle." Now, don't cry nonsense,read. "They are not above their place (none of these are my italics) and duties as humble village-teachers, although their education and manners would not disgrace the graduate of Cambridge and Oxford. Indeed, every man of them can fiddle." They can also "play both the piano and organ, which is more than can be said of one in a thousand of our English graduates. They can also prune trees, and do many other useful jobs which our B. A's. would make rather poor hands at." So much for the schoolmasters of Prussia, Holland, Switzerland, Bavaria, Saxony, &c. Eusebius, it is the fiddle that has done it. "Fiddler's land" is the only land for a man to live in after all. That is the land of civilisation. Alas for my emblem of civilisation, the Chinese lady!-there is no fiddle in

You see,

C

the picture. Henceforth translate the Latin,

"Ingenuas dedicisse fideliter artes

Emollit mores nec et sinit esse feros,"

as it ought to be translated. "To play upon the fiddle is the consummation of education, and the recipe to make a peasant, a schoolmaster, and a gentleman." Don't laugh, Eusebius-I am sure you are going to laugh; so just take a look at the sour grapes. Mr Laing is holding them up, and is going to speak. Listen. At first you will find him a little under the fascination of the Kay-bugle, echoing the last faint note of praise. "The educational system of Prussia is no doubt admirable as a machinery; but the same end is to be attained in a more natural and effective way-by raising the moral condition of the parents to free agency in their duties; or if not, if education-that is, reading, writing, and arithmetic cannot be brought within the acquirements of the common man's children but upon the Prussian semi-coercive principle of the State, through its functionaries, intruding upon the parental duties of each individual, stepping in between the father and his family, and enforcing, by State regulations, fines, and even imprisonment, what should be left to the moral sense of duty and natural affection of every parent who is not in a state of pupilage from mental imbecility, then is such education not worth the demoralising price paid for it," &c. &c.

Oh, oh! is it so ?-the Kay-bugle is now sadly out of tune. "The admirable machinery" then turns out to be the collar round the dog's neck, which the free dog in the fable asked him how he came by, and politely wished him good morning. To be forced to learn, under penalty, fine, and imprisonment-perhaps old and young under educationary compulsion -a pretty to-do this, indeed. Good morning, and good evening too, to all such Government education as this. Should you and I escape? I can imagine some impertinent inspector, having crammed the children, in the spite of weariness, to put some of us old people out to show our grammatical paces: the very children would

be taught to convert their old song into one of a hoot and contempt after us-or you at all events.

Old Father Long-legs couldn't say his grammar;

Put him to the treadmill-put him to the treadmill

Put him to the treadmill, and then to the

crammer.

But there are discrepancies in the accounts more serious. "No drunkenness-no bad manners-no poverty or suffering." The "facts" man says: "In Germany, within half a mile of the university of Bonn, on a Sunday evening, when all the town was abroad walking, I have seen a student in tolerably good clothes, his tobacco-pipe in his mouth, begging with his hat off on the public road, running after passengers and carriages, soliciting charity, and looking very sulky when refused; and the young man in full health, and with clothes on his back that would sell for enough to keep him for a week. This is no uncommon occurrence on the German roads. Every traveller on the roads round Heidelberg, Bonn, and the other university towns in Germany, must have frequently and daily witnessed this debasement of mind amongst the youth. This want of sensibility to shame or public opinion, or to personal moral dignity, is a defect of character produced entirely by the system of government interference in all education, and in all human action. It is an example of its moral working on society." Of course, it must be so. What else can they do than become beggars-the unsuccessful competitors for professors' chairs-these tailors, hedgers, and dustmen-all now gentlemen-teachers without paying scholars, and with little liking to their abandoned employments. But the coercion-the collar round the man-dog's neck! We must watch our educationists, before Parliament is filled with members crazy upon natural philosophy.

It must be a happy thing that these peasant gentlemen-teachers are able to play upon the fiddle, and in that respect are superior to our Bachelors of Arts of Cambridge and Oxford. The Lydians invented games to stay the outcries of the fiddle-strings of their stomachs in a time of famine. The addition of music must be very

soothing. Music, I find, is to be one of the accomplishments proposed for general education. It is better than most. But what is to be done by the fiddlers when less agreeable work is standing still for them? I will tell you an anecdote thereupon. When I was young, I was in the habit of visiting the kindest, most benevolent old lady in the world-very old in years, but a child in tenderness and goodness. We were rather a large company in the old country-house. Well -one evening, the tea not coming at the usual hour, we rang the bell. It was not answered. I should tell you the butler always brought in the urn, and the footman the tea-tray. Rang again. Bell not answered; but to our amazement we heard Benjamin's (the footman's) fiddle going all the while.

We rang again; fiddle symphonising. After repeated ringings, in burst Benjamin, actually crying with vexation at being interrupted, saying, both indignantly and piteously, "I should like to know how I be to bring the tea by myself. Ain't Thomas (the butler) gone to town to post?

I am thinking, Eusebius, of our Benjamins and Thomases, and Bettys and Susans, who usually attend to family arrangement. When we ring for Benjamin, and education is perfected, will he not think he has a prior right to fiddle? Will Betty remonstrate that she could not come before, and ought not to have been disturbed, for she was solving a problem? Is it to be an excuse for Thomas's neglect, that he was, at the moment when wanted, "Thomas the Rhymer?" The amiable educationist, Dr Daubeny, in his lecture, says that chemistry is to teach "patience and tenacity of purpose.” I fear the patience must be taught to one party, and the tenacity of purpose to another. The latter goes to the musical Benjamins, the former to their masters and mistresses. Not but that the gentlemen peasant-teachers must have hard work to keep up their patience, and their tempers sweet as that of the "gentleman pagan," in his uncivilised island, so praised by Drake's biographer, Prince. It has been shown that one of the praiseworthy teachers in a ragged school was obliged to call in the police. One of the old school of

masters said strongly, that he would have changed places with Job, and thanked him too. It will be hard work for some of them, if, when the government system of coercion is established, the master shall be made responsible for scholars' deficiencies, and master and scholar be fined together. It must be a wonderful pump that will pump sense either in or out of a pumpkin. But let the masters think of it; we are becoming a very jealous people-exacting full work for however little pay, and will admit of no shams.

Now, while all this is going on, are we quite sure of the moral teaching? After all, that is the great thing. Many educationists think a great deal about this, and do a great deal, and do good; and think not for a moment, Eusebius, that I appreciate not their labours. But there are too many who believe that the mere acquiring of knowledge will work more wonders than it can ever accomplish. Many years ago, in every court of justice, pains were taken to ascertain if the culprits could read and write; and note was taken (and much fuss made about ignorance in these matters) of those who could not. Somehow or other these inquiries, or the talk about them, seem suddenly to have stopped. A little learning, and especially more than a little, may make very accomplished sharpers, as well as virtuous citizens. It is a great mistake, indeed, to take cleverness for goodness, and to imagine that the cultivating the intellect up to the clever point has overmuch to do with morality. There was something notable in the answer of the celebrated master of one of our greatest schools: when recommended to take a sharp boy, he replied, "I will have none of him-send me a good boy. If I want a sharp one, I should go to Newgate." I fear, Eusebius, a system that shall make more sharp boys than good boys. Better it were that men were made after Paracelsus' fashion, of equivocal generation (of which he says, "immo autem possibile est"), for men made according to Paracelsus' recipe "need learn nothing; for that, as they are made by art, they know everything—an advantage which the naturally born never enjoy." True, indeed, the