French, and German, which are all very well in their place; but we shall have nothing to do with them here. We are to make good mechanics of you, and not good scholars.”
“Can’t good scholars be good mechanics?” asked Bolingbroke Millweed.
“Certainly they can: I don’t object to any amount of scholarship,” replied Captain Gildrock rather warmly. “You have been to the high-school, Bolingbroke; but all that you have learned will not prevent you from becoming a first-class mechanic. On the contrary, your education will be a great help to you.”
“That is just what I thought,” added the graduate of the high-school.
“For two or three years an exciting question has been under discussion here in Genverres,” continued the principal, turning to the two instructors. “I have taken the practical side of the subject, and I don’t believe in sending all the boys and girls to the high-school. When our fathers here in New England planted the schoolhouse by the side of the church, I don’t believe they meant a high-school.”
“Of course not: such an institution was unknown
in their day,—at least, as we understand it,” replied Mr. Bentnick. “They simply meant an ordinary common-school education, as we call it now.”
“That must be all they meant; but there has been progress in education, as in every thing else, since their time,” added Mr. Darlingby.
“I rejoice in the progress as much as any one can,” retorted the captain vigorously. “But I believe there is intemperance in the matter of education as well as in eating and drinking. The first business of life, in an enlightened or a savage state, is bread and butter. In other words, a man must get his living before he does any thing beyond that; and the greater part of our population can do nothing more than get a living. Do you believe that, boys?”
The boys did believe it, though none of them had ever given much attention to social and political economy. It was plain enough that the first duty of existence for every person was to support himself.