I think the last line worthy of Shakespeare, even if it be the product of a poor young Glasgow poet. In this coaching life we touch the base every-day life of care and struggle at very few points indeed and hence our joy. We are deep in love with Nature, and true worshippers at her shrine have few sorrows.
Scotland's School Houses.
While revelling in the exquisite beauty of England—such quiet and peaceful beauty as we had never seen before—the thought often came to me that I should be compelled to assume the apologetic strain for my beloved Scotland. It could not possibly have such attractions to show as the more genial South, but so far from this being so, as I have already said, there was scarcely a morning or afternoon during which the triumphant inquiry was not made, "What do you think of Scotland noo?" Of all that earned for Scotland the first place in our hearts I mention the pretty stone school-houses, with teacher's residence and garden attached, which were seen in almost every village; and if I had no other foundation than this upon which to predict the continued intellectual ascendency of Scotland and an uninterrupted growth of its people in every department of human achievement, I should unhesitatingly rest it upon these school-houses. A people which passes through the parish school in its youth cannot lose its grasp, or fall far behind in the race. Indeed, compared with the thorough education of the masses, the lives and quarrels of politicians seem petty in the extreme. It is with education as with righteousness, seek it first and all political blessings must be added unto you. It is the only sure foundation upon which to rear the superstructure of a great State, and how happy I am to boast that Scotland is not going to yield the palm in this most important of all work! No, not even to the Republic. From what I saw of the new schools, I'll back their scholars against any lot of American children to-day; but I admit one great lack: the former would strike you as somewhat too deferential, disposed to bow too much to their superiors in station, while American boys are said to be born repeating the Declaration of Independence. No more valuable lesson can be taught a lad than this: that he is born the equal of the prince, and what privileges the prince has are unjustly denied him. It would do Scotch boys good to hear my young American nephews upon the doctrine that one man "is as good as another and a good deal better." Of the sights which cause me to lose temper, one is to see a splendid young Briton, a real manly fellow, standing mum like a duffer when he is asked why the son of a Guelph or of any other family should have a privilege denied to him. Are you less a man? Have not you had as honest parents and a better grandfather? Why do you stand this injustice? And then he has nothing to say. Well, I have sometimes thought I have noticed the cheek a little redder. That is always a consolation. Thank God! we have nothing like this in America. Our young men carry in their knapsacks a President's seal, and no one is born to any rank or position above them. Under the starry flag there are equal rights for all. It will be so in Scotland perhaps ere I die (D. V.). If I had the schooling of young Scotland I would make every class repeat in the morning before lessons:
"If thou hast said I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Highland or lowland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied."
I would teach them the new meaning of that stirring verse, and tell them that the lad who did not believe himself the peer of any man born and entitled to every privilege "might do for an Austrian, a Russian, a Prussian, or an Italian," but never would be much of a Scotchman—never.
Popular Amusements.
I do not think I have spoken of the announcements of amusements seen everywhere during the trip throughout the rural districts: band competitions, cricket matches, flower shows, wrestling matches, concerts, theatricals, holiday excursions, races, games, rowing matches, football contests, and sports of all kinds. We are surprised at their number, which gives incontestable evidence of the fact that the British people work far less and play far more than their American cousins do. No toilers, rich or poor, like the Americans! The band competitions are unknown here, but no doubt we shall soon follow so good an example and try them. The bands of a district meet and compete for prizes, which stirs up wholesome rivalry and leads to excellence. We saw eight gathered for competition in one little town which we passed, and the interest excited by the meet was so great as to put the town en fête. I do not know any feature of British life which would strike an American more forcibly than these contests. We should try one here, and, by and by, why not an international contest—the Dunfermline band playing the "Star-Spangled Banner," and the Pittsburgh performers "Rule Britannia." Yes, that's right; I insist upon "Rule Britannia"—that is the nation's song; I am growing tired of "God Save the Queen"—even such a model as the present one—for the strain is only personal, after all. I wish Her Majesty well, but I love my country more. "Rule Britannia" is the national song.