advancement as the new system affords. The
result is that a large proportion of the scholars
at the parochial schools now learn Greek and
Latin, and it will be found that many of the
successful candidates in the recent competitive
examinations for government appointments, are
Scotchmen of humble parentage, who received
their early education at the parochial schools.

English grammar is very thoroughly taught
in the Scotch schools. In fact, English is
taught as a foreign tongue, and learning it in
this way, the pupils acquire a precise and
intimate knowledge of the rules by which it is
governed. The Latin and Greek grammars are
also well taught, and it is no uncommon thing
to find a boy of twelve years old who can
construe a passage in Virgil or Ovid with the
greatest accuracy, and with a clear and intelligent
perception of the laws of Latin composition.
I have known a flashy Oxford graduate,
with Latin verses at the tip of his tongue, stick
dead at such a test.

The poor in Scotland covet education as some
people covet money, with greedy avidity; and
the children, no less than the parents, are fully
alive to its value and importance. You will see
shepherd-boys conning the Latin grammar while
tending the cattle in the fields. The cow is in
the corn, but the little Scotch Boy Blue is not
asleep. He is absorbed in a problem of Euclid.

The parochial school established by law, and
supported chiefly by the owners of the land, is
in most cases supplemented by another seminary
established by the General Assembly of the
Church, and supported by public subscription.
It may be mentioned, in illustration of the
primitive character of these temples of learning,
that the scholars in the winter-time bring their
own firing, and instead of sending a load of fuel
to last for a month or quarter, each scholar
brings a peat in his hand for the day's use.
Fancy a London schoolboy going along the
streets carrying a lump of coal for the school
fire! But primitive as these schools are, and
plain and rough as are all their appointments,
the education they impart is sound and
practical, and there is scarcely any one in the
parish so poor that he cannot afford to avail
himself of their advantages. To put the case
in a familiar form, a plain education in Scotland
costs about threepence a week; a classical
education about sixpence! There is nothing
eleemosynary in the constitution of these
schools. The education which they afford is
the right of every Scotchman, and all classes
resort to them without scruple. As to the
eleemosynary idea, I quote the remark of
Canon Moseley, who, recently at the Church
Congress, advocated the introduction of the
Scotch educational system into England. "The
education of every member of parliament,"
he said, "has been in some degree eleemosynary,
and had it not been so it would not
have been so good." And he adds, with equal
truth, that every class in England has help with
its education, except the middle class.

At fifteen or sixteen years of age—sometimes
earlier—a Scotch boy is ready to go to college;
but supposing him to be the son of very poor
parents, how is he to be sent there? how is he
to be maintained there? Hitherto, while
attending the parochial school, he has lived at
home, sharing the poor and often scanty fare
provided for the family; but now, when he goes
to Aberdeen, he will need a lodging; he will
have to pay money every day for his food; he
will require to dress better than at home;
he will be under the obligation to purchase a
gown; and his fees will be eight times the
amount of those of the parochial school. A
glance at the constitution and endowments of
the Scottish Universities will show how the
humblest of the Scottish youth, with little or no
means of their own, are enabled to go to college
and maintain themselves there, until, at the end
of four years, they step forth into the wide arena
of the world, armed at all points for the battle
of life. While English youths of the same class
sigh for one single helping hand to be held out
to them, the Scotch youths are embarrassed by
a number of helping hands, and their only
difficulty sometimes is which to choose.
Everything in Scotland has conspired to afford
opportunities of education. The King's College and
University of Aberdeen was instituted by the
Pope of Rome at the instance of James the
Third; Marischal College and University was a
child of the Reformation. The one was
endowed by the Catholic Church, the other was
founded on its ruins, and nourished upon its
spoils. Happen what would, the Scottish youth,
as regards education, was always a gainer. The
anxiety of the people to build and endow schools
and colleges, amounted almost to a mania, and
every change of government or religion, though
it might create a revolution in other affairs,
only tended to give further impetus to the
progress of education. The Pope, Episcopacy, John
Knox, Oliver Cromwell, all the contending
political and ecclesiastical elements of more
than three centuries, combined to favour the
cause which Scotchmen had so much at heart.
Men of wealth and learning seemed to live with
no other purpose than to die and leave their
possessions to be "mortified" for the benefit of
schools and colleges. Many mortified a portion
of their estates during their lifetime; some
favouring King's College, others Marischal's.
[Until the year 1859, the two colleges were
separate and distinct universities, each having
its own set of professors, its own bursaries, and
its own complete curriculum of study. The
union of the two was effected in direct opposition
to the wishes of the Scottish people, by
the influence in parliament of half a dozen
perverse individuals, who claimed, without any
warranty whatever, to represent the interests of
their countrymen. The red gowns are no longer
to be seen in the quadrangle of Marischal's; its
class rooms are vacant (except such as are
occupied by students of medicine), its corridors
silent. And so it is that I have come back to
mourn over the grave of my Alma Mater.]
While the colleges were thus endowed with