appearance.

The latest failure of the Well-intentioned, so far as we have yet
found out, is the Education Act, for which the London rate has now
mounted to nine-pence in the pound. It is a failure, like the
emancipation of the slaves; because, though it has done some things
well, it has wholly failed to achieve the great results confidently
predicted for it by its advocates in the year '68. What is more, we
now understand that it never can achieve those results.

It was going, we were told, to give all English children a sound and
thorough elementary education. It was, further, going to inspire those
children with the ardour for knowledge, so that, on leaving school,
they would carry on their studies and continually advance in learning.
It was going to take away the national reproach of ignorance, and to
make us the best educated country in the world.

As for what it has done and is doing, the children are taught to read,
write, cipher, and spell (this accomplishment being wholly useless to
them and its mastery a sheer waste of time). They are also taught a
little singing, and a few other things; and in general terms the Board
Schools do, I suppose, impart as good an education to the children as
the time at their disposal will allow. They command the services of a
great body of well-trained, disciplined, and zealous teachers, against
whose intelligence and conscientious work nothing can be alleged. And
yet, with the very best intentions of Board and teachers, the
practical result has been, as is now maintained, that but a very small
percentage of all the children who go through the schools are educated
at all.