Chapter XLVII: Appendix: II (2)

“The Broom seed case is a carpel, more like that of the sweet
pea. When the seeds are ripe the two sides of the carpel split
open and curl up like springs and send the seeds flying out, so
they are dispersed without needing wings or parachutes.”

_Q._ Describe the tissue of a potato and of a piece of rhubarb. (Book studied, Oliver’s _Elementary Botany_.)

G. (aged 13):—

“The tissue of _Rhubarb_ is _very_ fibrous indeed. In fact, it
is almost entirely made up of vessels. These are cells which
have become tubes by the dividing cell-wall being absorbed.
These vessels are very beautiful when seen under a microscope,
for their walls are all thickened in some way, in order to make
them strong enough to bear the weight of the leaf. Some are
thickened by a spiral cord, which goes round and round the wall
of the vessel. In some vessels this is quite tightly twisted
round the wall, that is to say, the rings do not come far
apart; in others it is quite loose and far apart. Another kind
of thickening is by rings, which just go round the tube and are
not joined to each other. Other vessels, again, have little
knots in them like what there are in birch bark.

“The _Potato_ tissue is mainly made up of starch, as it is one
of the plant’s storehouses, and starch is one of the plant’s
principal foods.”

_Q._ Give a diagram of the eye, and explain how we see everything. (Book studied, Dr Schofield’s _Physiology for Schools_.)

H. (aged 13):—

“The eye can be likened to a camera, and the brain to the man
behind the camera. The image enters at the hole, passes through
the lens, is reflected on the plate, but the camera does not
see, it is the man behind the camera who sees. In the same way,
the image passes in at the pupil and through the lens, both
sides of which are curved, and can be tightened or slackened
according to the distance of the image. Then the image passes
along the nerve of sight to the two bulbs in the brain which
see. If you hold a rounded glass between a sheet of paper and
the image at the right distance (for the glass cannot tighten
or slacken like our lens), you will see the image reflected
upside-down on the paper. This is the way the lens acts. There
is a small yellow spot a little below the middle of the back of
the eye; here the sight is more acute, and so, though we can
see lots of things at one time, we can only look at one thing
at a time. There is a blind spot where the nerve enters the eye
(which shows that the nerve of sight itself is blind) so that
some part of every image is lost, like a black dot punched in
it. But we are so used to it that we cannot see it.”

_Q._ Describe your favourite scene in _Waverley_.

I. (aged 12½):—

“_A Highland Stag Hunt._—The Highland Cheifs (_sic_) were
in various postures: some reclining lazily on their plaids,
others stalking up and down conversing with one another, and
a few were already seated in position for the sport. MacIvor
was talking with another Cheif (_sic_) as to what the sport
would be; but as they talked in Gaelic, Edward had no part in
the conversation, but sat looking at the scene before him.
They were seated on a low hill at the head of a broad valley
which narrowed into a small opening or cleft in the hills at
the extreme end. It was hemmed in on all sides by hills of
various heights. It was through this opening that the beaters
were to drive the deer. Already Waverly (_sic_) could hear
the distant shouts of the men calling to each other coming
nearer and nearer. Soon he could distinguish the antlers of the
deer moving towards the opening like a forest of trees stiped
(_sic_) of their leaves. The sportsmen prepared themselves to
give them a warm reception, and all were ready as the deer
entered the valley.

“They looked very ferocious, as they advanced towards where
Edward and the cheifs (_sic_) were standing and seemed as if
they were determined to fight; the roes and weaker ones in the
centre, and the bulls standing as if on defence. As soon as
they came within range, some of the cheifs (_sic_) fired, and
two or three deer came down. Waverly (_sic_) also had the good
fortune (and also the skill) to bring down a couple and gain
the aplause (_sic_) of the other sportsmen. But the herd was
now charging furiously up the valley towards them. The order
was given to lie down, as it was impossible to stem the coming
wave of deer; but as it was given in Gaelic it conveyed no
meaning to Edward’s mind, and he remained standing.

“The heard (_sic_) was now not fifty yards from him; and in
another minute he would have been trampled to death; but
MacIvor at his own risk, jumped up and literaly (_sic_) dragged
him to the ground just as the deer reached them. Edward had a
sensation as if he was out in a severe hail storm, but this did
not last long.

“When they had passed, and Edward attempted to rise, he found
that besides a number of bruises he had also severely sprained
his ancle (_sic_), and was unable to walk, or even stand. A
shelter was soon made for him out of a plaid in which he was
laid; and then MacIvor called the Highland doctor or herbalist,
to attend him. The doctor approached Edward with every sign
of humiliation, but before attending to his ancle (_sic_), he
insisted upon walking slowly round him several times, in the
direction in which the sun goes, muttering at the same time a
spell over him as he went, and though Waverly (_sic_) was in
great pain he had to submit to his foolery. Waverly (_sic_)
saw to his great astonishment that MacIvor believed or seemed
to believe in the old man’s cantations (_sic_). At last, when
he had finished his spells, which he seemed to think more
necessary than the dressing, he drew from his pocket a little
packet of herbs, some of which he applied to the sprained
ancle (_sic_) and after it had been bound up, Edward felt much
relieved. He rewarded the doctor with some money, the value
of which seemed to exceed his wildest imaginations, for he
heaped so many blessings upon the head of Waverly (_sic_) that
MacIvor said, ‘A hundred thousand curses on you,’ whereupon he
stopped.”

=Class IV.=—Girls are usually in Class IV. for two or three years, from fourteen or fifteen to seventeen, after which they are ready to specialise and usually do well. The programme for Class IV. is especially interesting; it adds Geology and Astronomy to the sciences studied, more advanced Algebra to the Mathematics, and sets the history of Modern Europe instead of French history. The literature, to illustrate the history, includes the reading of a good many books, and the German and French books when possible illustrate the history studied. All the books (about forty) are of a different calibre from those used in the lower classes; they are books for intelligent students.

I think the reader will observe that due growth has taken place in the minds of the girls, both as regards judgment and power of appreciation. Not, I think, in intelligence,—

“Love has no nonage, nor the mind.”

But as our concern is with boys and girls under twelve, it will be enough to show by two or three papers that this sort of education by books results in intelligence.

_Q._ For what purpose were priests instituted? (Book studied, Dr Abbot’s _Bible Lessons_.)

A. (aged 15½):—

“The system of the Jewish priesthood was almost entirely
symbolical. God ordained it, we believe, to lead the primitive
mind of his chosen people onwards and upwards, to the true
belief and earthly comprehension of that great sacrifice, by
the grace of which we are all now honoured to become ‘kings and
priests unto God.’ In the earliest times of the patriarchs,
there was in every holy and honourable Jewish family some
voluntary priest to offer up the burnt offerings and yearly
sacrifices. We have an example of this in Job the patriarch,
who, we read, ministered to his family in the capacity of
priest of their offerings. In the wilderness, however, God
commanded through Moses the foundation of a separate and
holy priesthood to minister in His Tabernacle and offer His
appointed sacrifices. The tribe of Levi and the family of Aaron
were set apart for this purpose, and in the building of the
tabernacle, and the annointing (_sic_) of Aaron and his four
sons, the cornerstone was laid to that great building which
became a fit dwelling for the presence of God and the heart of
Israel, until Christ came to change and lighten the world; and
the symbol and the shadow became the truth.”

_Q._ “His power was to assert itself in deeds, not words.” Write a short sketch of the character of Cromwell, discussing the above statement. (Book studied, Green’s _Shorter History of the English People_.)

B. (aged 15):—

“Cromwell was no orator. It has been said that if all his
speeches were taken and made into a book, it would seem simply
a pack of nonsense. In Parliament though, the earnestness with
which he spoke attracted attention. His deeds proved his innate
power, which could not express itself in words. He may be
called the inarticulate man. In his mind, everything was clear,
and his various actions proved his purposes and determinations,
but in speaking, he simply brought out a hurried volume of
words, in the mazes of which one entirely lost the point meant
to be implied. Cromwell also was more of an administrator than
a statesman, unspeculative and conservative. He was subject to
fits of hypocondria (_sic_), which naturally had some effect
on his character. He considered himself a servant of God, and
acted accordingly. Undoubtedly he was under the conviction that
he was carrying out the Lord’s will in all he did. He was not
in calm moods a bloody man, but when his anger was kindled he
would spare no one. At times he would be filled with remorse
for the part he had taken in the martyrdom of the king; then,
again he would say it was the just punishment of heaven on
Charles. In giving orders his words were curt and to the
point, but in making speeches he adopted the phraseology of
the Bible, which added to their ambiguity. One would think he
was ambitious, for at one time he asked Whitelock: ‘What if a
man should take upon himself to be king?’ evidently having in
view the regal power, and yet according to his own assertion he
would rather have returned to his occupation as a farmer, than
have undertaken the government of Britain. But in this, as in
other acts, he recognised the call of God, (as he thought) and
obeyed it.”

_Q._ What do you know of the Girondins? (Book studied, Lord’s _Modern Europe_.)

C. (aged 17):—

“The Girondins were the perhaps most tolerant and reasonable of
the revolutionary parties. They were a body of men who found
the government of France under the king more than they could
stand, and who were the first to welcome any changes, but were
shocked and horrified at the dreadful riots and massacres which
followed the fall of the throne. Such a party, representing
justice and reform, could not be popular with the more violent
Jacobins and like clubs. The day came when these latter were in
power, and all the Girondins were thrown into prison.

“They were all taken from prison before the Court of Justice
for trial, and placed before the judge, where they sat quite
silently; they were one by one condemned to execution,
receiving the sentence of death with perfect calmness. Only
their leader was seen to fall down; one of his companions leant
over him and said: ‘What, are _you_ afraid?’ ‘Non,’ was the
answer, ‘Je mours,’ he had stabbed himself with his dagger.

“As the Girondins marched back to their cells, condemned to die
the next morning, they all sang the ‘Marseillaise,’ as they had
arranged, to tell their fellow-prisoners what the sentence had
been. When they reached the prison a splendid supper was placed
for them, and they all sat down with great cheerfulness to eat
it, none of them showing the least signs of breaking down.
Towards morning priests were sent to them, and very early in
the day they all marched to the foot of the guillotine, singing
as they went. They kept on singing a solemn chant when the
executions commenced, which became fainter and fainter as one
by one they were beheaded, until all were gone.”

_Q._ Distinguish between _arrogant_ and _presumptuous_, _interference_ and _interposition_, _genuine_ and _authentic_, _hate_ and _detest_, _loathe_ and _abhor_, _education_ and _instruction_, _apprehend_ and _comprehend_, using each word in a sentence. (Book studied, Trench’s _Study of Words_.)

E. (aged 15):—

“A man who is ‘arrogant’ is a man who has right to what
he wants, but who is harsh and exacting in taking it. A
‘presumptuous’ man is a man who expects more than is due and
takes it. ‘Judge Jeffries was an _arrogant_ old man.’ ‘Charles
II. was a _presumptuous_ king, he thought he could have
absolute power.’

“‘Interference,’ is not minding your own business, and meddling
with other people’s when we are not wanted. ‘Interposition’ is
more the ‘doing good by interfering’ as protecting a little boy
from a bully. ‘But for the _interference_ of James all would
have gone well.’ ‘Thanks to the _interposition_ of Mary a
quarrel was averted.’

“‘Genuine’ means real, true, what it seems to be as—‘a real
_genuine_ ruby.’ ‘Authentic,’ in speaking of a book, means
really written by the author to which it is ascribed. ‘Dickens’
_Oliver Twist_ is certainly _authentic_.’

“You would ‘hate’ a man who killed your father. ‘Charles II.
hated Cromwell.’ You would ‘detest’ a man who had not done you
any personal injury, but who (_sic_) you knew to be a murderer.
‘Yeo _detested_ the Spaniards.’

“You would ‘loathe’ a poisonous snake or a hypocrite. ‘David
Copperfield _loathed_ Uriah Heep.’ You would abhor a man
inferior to you in intellect or principles, as a great king
would ‘abhor’ a cringing coward, leave him behind, go on
without him, refuse to listen to him. ‘Napoleon _abhorred_ the
traitor.’

“‘Education’ is the lessons you receive as a matter of course,
as French, writing, grammar. ‘Instruction’ is this, but more
also, it includes moral teaching, the teaching of honesty, and
the teaching of gentleness. ‘Henry had a good _education_.’ ‘No
well-_instructed_ Britain (_sic_) is a coward.’

“‘Apprehend’ is to see, or hear, and notice. ‘Comprehend’ is
to understand, without seeing or hearing perhaps. ‘Phillip
_apprehended_ that danger was near, but he did not _comprehend_
it.’”

_Q._ Give shortly Carlyle’s estimate of Burns, showing what he did for Scotland, and what was the cause of his personal failure in life. (Book studied, Carlyle’s _Essay on Burns_.)

F. (aged 17):—

“Carlyle looked upon Burns as one of the nicest of men and
greatest of poets; rather a weak man, perhaps, but covering
all his faults with his genius and kindness of heart,
clever and persevering, and basely neglected and shunned by
his contemporaries. It is quite extraordinary to read the
world-famous poems of this poet, and to remember that he
was a ploughman, and surrounded only by the most uneducated
peasants and fellow-labourers, though, of course, the life of
a ploughman in the hills of Scotland is far more likely to
encourage poetry and reflection than the life of many a London
dentist or hair-dresser far higher in rank; but it is easy to
believe in fact, that Burns would have found inspirations for
his genius in a flat sandy waste or a grocer’s shop, and, as
Carlyle says, a man or woman is not a genius unless they are
extraordinary, not really inspired if such a person could have
been imagined before. Robert Burns has provided Scotland for
centuries at least, with plenty of national poetry, his poems
are such as can be enjoyed, like flowers and trees and all
things really beautiful, by old and young, stupid and clever,
fishermen and prime ministers—surely that is a work of which
any man would be proud!

“Burns (_sic_) chief fault, if fault it can be called, and the
cause of his failure in life, seems to have been a sort of
bitterness against people more fortunate than himself without
the art of hiding it. This, real or affected, seems very common
in poets, and such an inspired man, a man with a mind greater
than kings, must have felt very deeply, almost without knowing
it, the ‘unrefinedness’ of the people he loved best, and his
own distance from the admirers who clustered round him later in
life.

“All his life, it seems, he was in a place by himself, now
spending his time with his own family, acting a part all day,
trying to make his relations feel him an equal, pretending to
take a great interest in what he did not care for—the pigs, and
cows, and porridge, seeing his own dearest friends looking at
him with awe, and feeling him something above them, thinking of
his ‘great’ friends, and feeling embarrassed when he came, and
more at ease without his presence.

“Now, on the other hand, associating with people, high in
rank and education, enjoying their friendship and praise, but
feeling, be they ever so kind and familiar, that he was not
their equal by birth, and that they could not treat him quite
as such, however hard they might try, turning familiarity in
his mind into slights, and kindness into condescension. This
to a proud man must have been misery, and Burns must have been
very lonely in a crowd of companions, thronged with admirers,
but without a friend.

“Nobody understood Burns; he shared his opinions with no one
he knew. When, at the beginning of the French Revolution he
expressed his delight and approval, the people who admired him
were shocked, refused to speak to him, and regarded him either
as mad or terribly wicked. His poems were not admired as much
as they deserved to be, he had hardly any money, was never
likely to get on in the world, was shunned and disgraced, and
began, as a last resource,[28] to drink too much. Ill-health
was one of his misfortunes, and this intemperance killed him.

“Thus died at the age of thirty-seven, poor, friendless,
despised, the man who has given pleasure to thousands, and an
undying collection of poems and songs to his country.”

_Q._ Give some account, as far as you can in the _style_ of Carlyle, of the Procession of May 4th. (Book studied, Carlyle’s _French Revolution_.)

G. (aged 14½):—

“See the doors of Notre Dame open wide, the Procession
issuing[29] forth, a sea of human faces that are to reform
France. First come the nobles in their gayly (_sic_) tinted
robes, next the clergy, and then the commons, the Tiers Etats
in their slouched hats firm and resolute, and lastly the king,
and the Œuil-de-bœuf, these are greeted by a tremendous storm
of vivats. Vive le roi! Vive la nation! Let us suppose we can
take up some coigne (_sic_) of vantage from which we can watch
the procession, but with eyes different from other eyes, namely
with prophetic eyes. See a man coming, striding at the head of
the Tiers Etats, tall and with thick lips and black hair, whose
father and brother walk among the nobles. Close beside walks
Doctor Guillotin,[29] learned Doctor Guillotin,[29] who said,
‘My friends (_mes amis_), I have a machine that will whisk off
your heads in a second, and cause you no pain,’ now doomed
for two years to see and hear nothing but guillotin, and for
more than two centuries after yonder a desolate ghost on this
(_sic_) of the Styx. Mark, too, a small mean man, a sea-green
man with sea-green eyes, Robespierre by name, a small underhand
secretary walking beside one Dantun (_sic_) tall and massive,
cruelty and vengeance on their faces. We may not linger longer,
but one other we must note, one tall and active with a cunning
air, namely, Camille Desmouellins (_sic_), one day to rise to
fame and the next to be forgotten.

“Many more walk in that procession one day to become famous,
Bailli, future president of a New Republick (_sic_), and Marat,
with Broglie the War-God and others.

“The Tiers Etats with Mayor Bailli march to the rooms where
they are to sit, but the doors are shut: there is sound of
hammering within.

“Mayor Bailli knocks, and wants to know why they are shut out?
It is the king’s orders. He wants his papers. He may come in
and get them, and with this they must be content.

“They swarm to Versailles, the king steps out on the balconny
(_sic_) and speaks. He says the room is being prepared for his
own august presence; a platform is being erected, he says he
is sorry to inconvience (_sic_) them; but he is afraid they
must wait, and with that he retires. Meanwhile patriotism
consults as to what had best be done. Shall they meet on the
palace steps? or even in the streets? At length they adjourn
to the tennis court, and there patriotism swears one by one
to be faithful to the New National Assembly, as they now name
themselves This is known as the Oath of the Tennis Court.”

I have placed before the reader examples of a portion of some thirty pupils’ work to illustrate their education by books. It is not necessary to speak of their education by Things: that is thorough and systematic; but may I point out that what has been cited is average work. I do not know if the reader considers that I have proved my point, that is, that ‘studies’—schoolroom studies—‘are for delight, for ornament, and for ability.’