Essays on Educational Reformers

by Robert Hebert Quick

APPENDIX.

History of this Book.—Some wise man has advised us never to find fault with ourselves, for, says he, you may always depend on your friends to do it for you. So, having looked through the proofs of this book, I abstain from fault-finding. I fancy I could find fault more effectively than my friends or even my professional critics. As the Spectator’s “Correspondent in an easy chair” says very truly; the author has read his book many times; the critic has read it at most once. In fact the critic gives to the book (in some cases to the subject of the book also) no greater number of hours than the author has given months, perhaps years. Partiality blinds the author, no doubt, but unless he is a fatuous person it does not blind him so much as his haste blinds the critic. An author of note said of a book of his, which had been much criticised: “The book has faults, but I am the only person who has discovered them,” to which a friend maliciously appended: “For faults read merits.” Whatever was the truth here, I am inclined to think the author has the best chance of putting his finger on the weak places.

But if I see weaknesses in the foregoing book, why do I not make it better? Just for two reasons: to improve the book I should have to spend more time on it and more money. The more I read and think about any one of my subjects, the more I want to go on reading and thinking. Perhaps I hear of an old book that has escaped my notice, or a new book comes out, sometimes an important book like Pinloche’s Basedow. So I can never finish an essay to my satisfaction, and the only way of getting it off my hands is to send the copy to the printer. By the time the proof comes in there is something that I should like to add or alter; but then the dread of a long bill for “corrections” restrains me. However, now the book is all in type, I see here and there something that suggests a note by way of explanation or addition, so I add this appendix. Taking a hint from one of my favourite authors, Sir Arthur Helps, I throw my notes into the form of a dialogue, but being entirely destitute of Helps’s dramatic skill I confine myself to E. (the Essayist) and A. (Amicus), who is only too clearly an alter ego.

A. So the Americans have kept alive your old book for you, and at last you have rewritten it. You at least have no reason to complain that there is no international copyright. Your book would have been forgotten long ago if a lady in Cincinnati had not persuaded an American publisher there to reprint it. E. Yes, I very readily allow that I have been a gainer. The Americans have done more for me than my own countrymen. To be sure neither have “praised with the hands” (as Molière’s professeur has it); and, in money at least, the book has never paid me its expenses; but three American publishers have done for themselves what no Englishman would do for me, viz., publish at their own risk. In 1868 when my MS. was ready, I went to my old friend, Mr. Alexander Macmillan; but he would not even look at it. “Books on education,” said he, “don’t pay. Why there is Thring’s Education and School, a capital book” (I assented heartily, for I was very fond of it), “well, that doesn’t sell.” I was forced to admit that in that case I had little chance. “But,” I said, “I suppose you would publish at my risk?” “No,” said Mr. Macmillan. “The author is never satisfied when his book doesn’t pay.” “What would you advise?” I asked. “I’ll give you a letter of introduction to Mr. William Longman,” said Mr. Macmillan; “I dare say he’ll publish for you.” With this letter I went to Mr. William Longman (who has since those days been gathered to his ancestors, formerly of Paternoster Row). Mr. Longman said he would put the MS. in the hands of his reader. If the reader’s report was favourable the firm would offer me terms; if not, they would publish for me on commission. I sent the MS. accordingly, and soon after I had a letter from the firm offering to publish “on commission.” When the book was in type, Mr. Longman advised me to have only 500 printed, and to publish at a high price. “I should charge 9s.,” he said. “Very few people will buy, and they won’t consider the price.” This was not my opinion, but in such a matter I felt that the weight of authority was enormously against me. So I consented to the publishing price of 7s. 6d. And at first it seemed that Mr. Longman was right—at least about the small number of purchasers. £30 was spent in advertising, and the book was very generally and I may say very favourably reviewed; but when about 100 copies had been sold, it almost entirely ceased “to move.” I think 13 copies were sold in six months. So to get rid of the remainder of my 500 copies (some 300 of them) I put down the price to 3s. 6d. Then it seemed that Mr. Longman had made a mistake about the price. Without another advertisement the 300 were sold in a month or two. Some time after, I heard that the book had been republished in Cincinnati, and on my writing to the publishers, Messrs. Robert Clarke & Co., they presented me with half-a-dozen copies. This proved to be a perfect reprint, which is more than I can say of those which years afterwards were issued by Mr. Bardeen and Messrs. Kellogg. I have therefore from time to time purchased from Messrs. Clarke and imported the copies (I suppose about 1500 in all) that have been wanted for the English market. I hope these details do not bore you. A. Not at all. The history of any book interests me, and your book has had some odd experiences. It has lived, I own, much longer than I expected, and for this you have to thank the Americans. A. In my case the absence of international copyright has done no harm certainly; but after all copyright has its advantages, international copyright included. Specialists suffer severely from the want of it. Perhaps the “special” public in this country is so small that an important book for it cannot be published. If to our special public were joined the special public of the U.S., the book might be fairly remunerative to its author. Take, e.g., Joseph Payne’s writings. These would have been lost to the world had not Dr. Payne published them as an act of filial piety. With an international copyright these works would be very good property. E. You think then that in the long run “honesty is the best policy” even internationally? A. I must say my opinion does incline in that direction.

Class Matches (p 42).—A. I think you have had a good deal to do with class matches? E. Yes. One must be careful not to overdo them, but I have found an occasional match a capital way of enlivening school-work. Some time before the match takes place the master lets the two best boys pick up sides, the second boy having the first choice. The subject for the match is then arranged, and to prevent disputes the area must be carefully defined. Moreover, there must be no opportunity for the boys to ask questions about unimportant details that are likely to have escaped attention. When the match is to take place each boy should come provided with a set of written questions, and whenever a boy shows himself ignorant of the right answer to a question of his own he must be held to have failed even if his opponent is ignorant also. At Harrow, where I had a class-room (“school-room” as it is there called) to myself, I used to work these matches very successfully in German. Say Heine’s Lorelei had been learnt by heart. I set as a subject for a match the plurals of the substantives and the past participles of the verbs in the poem. Or the boys had to make up for themselves and number on paper a set of short sentences in which only words which occurred in the poem were used. In this last case the questioner handed in to the master his paper with both the English and the German on it, and the master gave the other side the English, of which they had to write the German. The details of such matches may of course be varied to any extent so long as the subject set is quite definite. The scoring will be found best at the lower end, so that a match stimulates those who need stimulus. A. What did you call “scratch pairs?” E. Oh, that was a device for getting up a little harmless excitement. Knowing the capacities of my boys, I arranged them in pairs, the best boy and the worst forming one pair, the next best and next worst the second pair, &c., &c. I then asked a series of questions to which all had to write short answers. I then looked over the answers and marked them. Finally the marks of each pair were added together, and I announced the order in which the pairs “came in.” It was really “anybody’s race” for neither I nor anyone could predict the result. If the number of boys was an odd number the boy in the middle fought for his own hand and had his marks doubled. Perhaps on the whole he had the best chance.

Competition.—A. There were then some forms of emulation which you did not set your face against? E. There were many, but I preferred emulation which stimulated the idle rather than the industrious. Most “prizes” act only on those who would be better without them. A. Do you see no danger in encouraging rivalry between different bodies? The strife between parties has often been more virulent than the strife between individuals. E. Yes, I know well that in exciting party-feeling one is playing with edged tools; and besides this, a boy who for any cause is thought a disgrace to his side, is very likely to be bullied by it. Let me tell you of one form of stimulus which seemed to work well and was free from most of the objections you are thinking of. When I had a small school of my own in which there were only young boys, I put up in the school-room a list of the boys’ names in alphabetical order with blank spaces after the names. I looked over the boys’ written work very carefully, and whenever I came across any written exercise evidently done with great painstaking and for that boy with more than ordinary success, I marked it with a G, and I put up the G in one of the spaces after that boy’s name in the list hung up in the school-room. When the school collectively had obtained a fixed number of G’s we had an extra half-holiday. The announcement of a G was therefore always hailed with delight. A. I see one thing in favour of that device. You might by a G give encouragement to a boy when he has just begun to try. This is often a turning-point in a boy’s life; and a master’s early recognition of effort may do much to strengthen into a habit what might, without the recognition, have proved nothing but a passing whim. At the very least, all such devices have one good effect; they break the monotony of school-work; and monotony is much more wearing to the young than it is to their elders. Can you tell me of others who have used such plans? E. A friend of mine who has a genius for inventing school plans of all kinds and marvellous energy in working them, has a boarding-house in connexion with a large school. The marks of every boy in the school are given out for each week. My friend gives a supper at the end of the quarter if the average marks of his house come up to a certain standard. He puts up each week a list of “Furtherers,” i.e., of the boys who have surpassed the average, and of “Hinderers,” i.e., of boys who have fallen below it A. No doubt this is an effective spur, but I should fear it would in practice deliver the hindermost to Satan. The boy whom nature has made a “hinderer” is likely to have by no means a good time in that house. Do you know if such devices as you have mentioned are common in schools? E. I really can’t say. I have seen in American school papers accounts of class matches. In the New England Journal of Education (22nd November, 1888) Mr. A. E. Winship gave an account of some inter-class matches at Milwaukee. There is a match between three classes, say in penmanship. If there are seventy boys in the three classes together, each boy draws a number from one to seventy, and puts not his name but his number on his paper. The same lesson is set for all. The papers are collected, divided into three equal heaps, and looked over and marked by three masters. Finally the average of each class is taken. In mental arithmetic each class chooses its own champions. This would be fun, but would do nothing for the lower end of the class. The principal of McDonough School No. 12, New Orleans, Mr. H. E. Chambers, gives an account in the New York School Journal (8th December, 1888), how he organised sixteen boys into teams of four, putting the best and worst together as I did in making up scratch pairs. The match between these teams was to see which could get the best record for the month. As Mr. Chambers tells us the sharper boys managed with more success than the master to let light into the dull intellects of boys in the same team with them. This union of interests between the “strong” and the “weak” as the French call them, is a very good feature in combats of sides.

The Jesuits.—A. What is it that interests you so much in the Jesuits? E. Two things. First, the Jesuit shows the effects of a definitely planned and rigidly carried out system of education; and next, in such a society you find a continuity of effort which is and must be wanting in the life of an individual. If ever “we feel that we are greater than we know” it is when we can think of ourselves as parts of a society, a society which existed long before us, and will last after us. For instance, it is a great thing to be connected with an historical school such as Harrow. We then realise, as the school’s poet, Mr. E. E. Bowen, has said, that we are no mere “sons of yesterday,” and thinking of the connection between the mighty dead and the old school we join heartily in the chorus of the school song:—

“Their glory thus shall circle us

“Till time be done.”

A. I verily believe you expect your share in this “glory” for having invented the Harrow “Blue Book,” which is likely to outlive Educational Reformers; but if the boys ever thought of the inventor (which they don’t) they would naturally suppose that he was some contemporary of Cadmus or Deucalion. Sic transit! But what has this to do with the Jesuits? E. Only this, that by corporate life you secure a continuity of effort. There is to me something very attractive in the idea of a teaching society. How such a society might capitalise its discoveries! The Roman Church has shown a genius for such societies, witness the Jesuits and the Christian Brothers. The experience of centuries must have taught them much that we could learn of them. A. The Jesuits seem to me to be without the spirit of investigators and discoverers. The rules of their Society do not permit of their learning anything or forgetting anything. Ignatius Loyola was a wonderful man, but he must have been superhuman if he could legislate for all time. By the way, I see you say the first edition of the Ratio was published in 1585. What is your authority? E. I took the date from the copy in the British Museum. According to a volume published by Rivingtons in 1838 (Constitutiones Societatis Jesu) the Constitutions were first printed in 1558, but were not divulged till “the celebrated suit of the MM. Lionci and Father La Valette” in 1761.