“One sequel of this plan (it might be too much to call it a consequence), I mention with the permission of the gentleman concerned. Amongst those who adopted drawing as his chief occupation was a little boy who, up to that time, had shown no particular aptitude for any kind of study. Here, however, he succeeded so well as soon to attract no small attention. His power was fostered then and afterwards, and painting eventually became his profession. Of his eminence in the art I need not speak, the works of Thomas Creswick needing no eulogy.”
The plan that he devised for putting a check on fights among the boys was as ingenious as it was successful. Fighting had hitherto been against the rule, but it had gone on much as in most other schools. He brought it almost to an end by withdrawing the prohibition. Boys might fight as much as they liked if the combat took place in strict accordance with the new regulations. If, however, they fought in defiance of them, not only the “mighty opposites” themselves, but also all the spectators of the fray, were severely punished. “It was the duty of the eldest boy present, under a heavy penalty, to convey immediate information to the Magistrate, that the parties might be separated.” Those, however, who wished to fight in the manner that the law directed, gave notice of their intention to the Magistrate. It was his duty to inquire into the cause of the quarrel, and to do his best to reconcile the parties. If, however, after six hours had passed by he had not been able to settle “the swelling difference of their settled hate,” then he and his two assistants took them to a retired spot in the playground, where they could fight it out. Meanwhile, all the rest of the boys were confined to the school-room. In later years one of the masters was made the Marshal of the Lists, and not a single boy was allowed to be present. In the first three months after the new rules had been laid down, four formal fights took place. In the next four years there were but two. Informal combats still went on to some extent, but “in every instance early information was conveyed to the Magistrate, who immediately separated the belligerents.” The result was that fighting soon became almost unknown.
Another institution is thus described in “Public Education:”—
“The Committee has the management of the School Fund. It amounts now to upwards of £100 per annum, and is partly furnished by the proprietors of the school, and partly by the parents of the boys. It is expended, for the most part, in the purchase of philosophical instruments, musical instruments, apparatus for printing, maps, school-coin, and books for the school library, the pupils being invited to recommend the purchase of books or other articles by entries in a register kept for the purpose. To those who have not witnessed the prudence and uprightness with which very young persons can be taught to use power, it may appear a dangerous arrangement to intrust boys with the disposal of such a fund; but we have never had the slightest reason to regret the experiment. At the end of each session—the interval from vacation to vacation—the Committee prepares a statement of the expenditure, which is printed at the school press, and each pupil takes home a copy for the perusal of his friends. Thus a powerful check is furnished, if any were required, to improper expenditure. The advantages derived to the boys from the management of this fund are very considerable. To discuss the various merits and defects of books and instruments, to ascertain where and how they can be best procured, to transact the business attendant on their purchase, and to keep the necessary accounts, must all be useful exercises. Neither can it be doubted that these preliminaries to the possession of a desired object, very much tend to heighten its value, and increase the wish for its preservation. Thus habits of care are induced which are of the highest importance. Our school-rooms are all hung with valuable prints and maps. The musical instruments are constantly accessible to all the boys. The library contains many costly books, and property of a great variety of kinds is constantly exposed to the use of our pupils with almost perfect safety.”[53]
The punctuality that was established in the school was very striking. To use the words of “Public Education,” it was “an almost superstitious punctuality.”
“Punctuality of attendance entitles a boy to a reward, which goes on increasing from week to week during all the half-year, until the progression is interrupted by a failure, after which it commences anew.”
It went on not only from week to week, but from half-year to half-year. If a boy were a single second late at a single roll-call, his name was struck off the list, and he had to begin again. “Neither illness nor engagement of any kind was a valid plea for absence.” It was his duty not to get ill, and it was the duty of his friends not to call him away from school on any grounds whatever. If there was any marrying, christening, or dying to be gone through in his family, it should be gone through in holiday time. In this “almost superstitious punctuality” I was myself brought up till I went to the University. There, as I well remember, I received a kind of shock when I found my superstition treated with scorn. The first time that I went to the lecture-room, I entered it on the first stroke of the hour. My tutor received me with a look of mild wonder; but, happily, he spared me his reproof. Ten minutes later in came the rest of my companions. It was some days before I could break through the frost of custom, and summon up resolution to be unpunctual. When, however, I found out how worthless the lectures commonly were, I recognised that even the custom of punctuality may be more honoured in the breach than in the observance.