With the armies the case is different. Soldiers and sailors enjoy a reputation for bravery, but not for sexual morality in either country. There is terribly strong medical evidence on this subject which I cannot go into, real evidence, better than the inventions of novelists. English medical opinions are of the gravest possible import, as they point to a danger to the military strength of the country in comparison with which the Channel tunnel would be a trifle; but it may be argued, as regards the health of the nation generally, that the English army is but a part of the nation, whereas the French army represents the nation itself. Another difficulty in the comparison arises from the fact that, although the French may be quite as immoral as the English, their sanitary legislation is more rigorously prudent, so that the consequent physical evils are much diminished. This subject is almost forbidden me in a book intended for general reading; but if any one cares to form a just opinion, I recommend him to study authentic statistics of the health of armies.
Student Life in the Two Nations.
Student Life in Capital Cities.
Struggling Students in Paris.
Two Cases of French Students.
Poor Students in Paris.
Efforts of poor Students for their own Support.
English student life is, on the whole, quieter and more moral than French. France has plenty of public schools in the country, or at least in country towns, where the boys are kept under the most rigorous restraint; but she has no country universities, she has no Oxford and Cambridge, where young men live under a sort of gentle restraint, and in places of comparatively small size, where the army of vice is not in full force, but represented only by a detachment. French student life is chiefly concentrated in Paris, and resembles that of medical students and art students in London, which may, of course, be perfectly moral if they choose to make it so, but which, in the midst of innumerable facilities and temptations, depends entirely upon themselves. Student life in Edinburgh has the same liberty as in Paris, but is probably more moral on account of the greater seriousness of the Scottish character, and the intellectual ambition of Scottish youth. Both in England and France the errors of young men are very lightly passed over and excused; but in France they are more expected, more taken as a matter of course, and there is more of a settled tradition of immorality amongst French students than amongst English. Still, there is nothing in the French system to prevent a young man from living like a good Scotchman if he likes. Foreigners know nothing about the struggling student who is at Paris for his work and has neither time nor money for much else. The reader is probably aware that amongst Scottish students there are striking examples of courage and self-denial, but he is not likely to know that Paris abounds with instances that, for a richer country, are precisely of the same kind. I will mention two cases, those of young men whom I know personally and regard with all the respect which they deserve. One of them, in consequence of a family misfortune, was dependent upon his mother’s labour, and by hard work and close economy she was able to support him when at school. She could not undertake the expense of his student life at Paris, but she had a relation there who offered two great helps, a bed and one meal every day. This was absolutely all the young man had to count upon; the rest had to be won by his own labour. He contrived—I have not space to tell how—to earn all the money necessary for everything else, and became an army surgeon, after which, by further hard work, he gained the medical agrégation (a sort of fellowship won by a severe medical examination). I know from his companions that during his student days he carefully kept aloof from idle and dissipated society. The other case is that of a young man whose mother, a widow, could do nothing for him. His earlier education was paid for by the bounty of a rich lady, but as soon as he could earn money by teaching he did so, and went on vigorously with his studies at the same time. He even managed to keep his mother by his labour without hindering his own advancement. He won a fellowship, and is now occupying the chair of a professor of history—I do not mean in a school, but as a professeur de faculté. He is one of the most cultivated men I ever knew, and probably one of the happiest. Such a career as his is not the usual consequence of a frivolous and dissipated youth. I was talking, an hour before writing this page, with a Frenchman whose own life has been a remarkable example of labour and self-denial, and he told me that there are at this moment hundreds of students in Paris who are supporting themselves, at least in part, by means of lessons and humble literary work, in order that they may enter the professions.
French School Life.
Morality of Boys in French Schools.