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and his letter to me gave me the most excellent opinion of both his head and heart.

Mrs. Byron, writing about the same date (the 13th of August, 1804) to the family lawyer, speaks in similar terms. "Never was a boy more improved in every respect; he is now truly amiable, and I shall not know how to part with him.'

For the last year, however, Byron's home life had been rendered miserable by the increasing violence of his mother's furious temper. He confided his miseries to his sister, who endeavoured to enlist Hanson's aid in removing him from Mrs. Byron's society. In a letter written from Castle Howard on the 18th of November, 1804, she apologises for troubling Hanson.

The reason (she says) that induces me now to do so is his having lately written me several letters containing the most extraordinary accounts of his mother's conduct towards him, and complaining of the uncomfortable situation he is in during the holidays with her. All this, you will easily imagine, has more vexed than surprised me. I am quite unhappy about him, and wish I could in any way remedy the grievances he confides in me. I wished, as the most likely means of doing this, to mention the subject to Lord Carlisle, who has always expressed the greatest interest about Byron, and also shown me the greatest kindness. Finding that he did not object to it, I yesterday had some conversation with Lord C., and it is partly of his advice and wishes that I trouble you with this letter. He authorised me to tell you that if you would allow my brother to spend the next vacation with you (which he seems strongly to wish) it would put it into his power to see more of him and show him more attention than he has hitherto been able, being withheld from doing so by the dread of having any concern whaterer with Mrs. Byron.

I need hardly add that it is almost my first wish that this should be accomplished. . . . . My opinion is that, as they cannot agree, they had better be separated, for such eternal scenes of wrangling are enough to spoil the very best temper and disposition in the universe. Arrangements were accordingly made that Byron should

the Christmas holidays of 1804–5 with the Hansons. When he arrived he gave his host to understand that he should not return to Harrow, as, at his own wish, he had arranged with Dr. Drury to leave. Hanson, however, thinking that a boy of sixteen was too young for the University, wrote to the Head Master on the subject. Dr. Drury's answer gave a different colour to the matter.


Your letter (he writes, the 29th of December, 1804) supposes that Lord Byron was desirous to leave school, and that I acquiesced in his wish; but I must do him the justice to observe that the wish originated with me. During his last residence at Harrow his conduct gave me much trouble and uneasiness, and, as two of his associates were to leave me at Christmas, I certainly suggested to him my wish that he might be placed under the care of some private tutor previously to his admission at either of the Universities. This I did no less with a view to the forming of his mind and manners than to my own comfort; and I am fully con. vinced that if such a situation can be procured for his Lordship it will be much more advantageous for him than a longer residence at school, where his animal spirits and want of judgment may induce him to do wrong, whilst his age and person must prevent his instructors from treating him in some respects as a school

boy. If we part now we may entertain affectionate dispositions towards each other, and his Lordship will have left the school with credit, as my dissatisfactions were expressed to him cnly privately, and in such a manner as not to affect his public situation in the school.

Finally, however, Dr. Drury yielded to the appeal of Lord Carlisle and Hanson, allowed the boy to return to Harrow, and Byron remained at the school till July 1805, the last three months being passed under the rule of Dr. Butler. In the letter in which Dr. Drury made known his wish for Byron's withdrawal from the school he expresses his ' most sincere and affectionate attachment' to his pupil. The same feeling was shared by Hanson, who writes about him to Mrs. Byron at the close of the holidays, “I assure you,' he says, the 29th of January, 1805, whilst he has been with me he has conducted himself with great propriety and good sense, and, much as I covet his society, I could have wished that he had devoted some part of his vacation to his mother.' On Lord Carlisle at the same period he made the same favourable impression. “I hear,' writes Augusta Byron, the 31st of January, 1805, ` from Lady Gertrude Howard that Lord Carlisle was very much pleased with my brother, and I am sure, from what he said to me at Castle Howard, he is disposed to show him all the kindness and attention in his power.' His mother was often foolish; yet she judged her son correctly when she said, “He is a turbulent, unruly boy, that wants to be emancipated from all restraints; his sentiments are, however, noble.'

The verdict was a true one. At this period of his life, and indeed throughout his whole career, there is evidence that Byron had in him the makings of a fine character. His better qualities were never entirely destroyed; again and again, on the contrary, they reasserted their sway. To the moralist the interest of his life lies in this perpetual struggle, which endured to the end. It adds to the pathos of his early death that he died at a moment when his enthusiasm for liberty had drawn him out of mean surroundings, and embarked bim in a sacred cause which, whether hopeless or not, might have permanently strengthened and ennobled his character. His last year at Harrow under Dr. Drury's influence was another of those periods which promised to be turning points for good. But his violent dislike for Dr. Butler, who became Head Master in April 1805, the unrestricted liberty of Cambridge, the greater command of money, an idle life, and the temptations that beset a lad of seventeen threw him back. The years 1805-6 were spent, as his sister wrote in an unpublished letter (7th of February, 1807) to Hanson, 'in idleness and ill-humour with all the world. His character deteriorated; he went from bad to worse, until ambition of literary fame or political distinction spurred him again to effort.


VOL. XLIII-No. 251



I HAVE been thinking that your Committee, when they did me the honour to ask me to say a few words on this interesting occasion, were not fully aware of what manner of man it was whom they had thus invited. I am a professor, an academic person ; and academic persons, as you know, live in a little world of their own, having but a slight hold on the things belonging to busy practical every-day life, and are fond of trying to judge every question which comes before them by the light of what they are pleased to call 'general principles.' Moreover, I am a professor of physiology; my days are filled with questions as to how beings live and move; the whole world is to me a crowd of physiological problems, and I am apt to look at everything which comes before me through physiological spectacles. In the few words which I have to say to-day I shall not attempt to go out of my real character; I shall cling to general principles, and to a physiological point of view; and my theme being Technical Education I will not shrink from beginning with a general question, even though it may seem to have something of a Pontius Pilate ring—the general question, What is Education ?

I came the other day upon a sentence, in which an old Latin grammarian attempts to define the word 'educate.' He says: “The midwife brings you in the world, the nurse rears you, the schoolmaster puts you in the right way, the professor tells you what it all means.' Only the word which I have rendered as 'rear' is the word "educates'-educat nutric. And, indeed, education is rearing, is leading out. A child is born into the world possessed of certain powers, some obvious and actual, but others—and these the greater part-hidden and unfinished, mere germs of power, simple potentialities. It is the duty of the nurse so to bring certain conditions, which academic persons call the environment (to wit, adequate aliment, suitable exercise, and the like), to bear on the growing organism as to lead out these potentialities from their hiding place and set them forth as effective powers. And the leading of the true nurse is such that the powers so brought out are those which work for

Being the substance of an address delivered at the opening of the Technical Institute, Bradford-on-Avon, February 24, 1897.

the good no less of the world than of the child itself. This leading out of potentialities into powers, this development of the possible into the actual, is not wholly in the hands of the nurse, and does not begin with that which we call birth. Its origin goes back beyond that, and indeed lies behind the individual; it also stretches forward past childhood, youth, and even manhood, reaching right on to the grave.

In the lapse of time since the old Romans first used the word educate' we have fallen into the habit of narrowing the meaning of the word to the rearing of what we call the mind. Now to a physiologist at least the distinction between body and mind is shadowy and invalid; equally invalid seems to an academic philosopher the attempt to sever mental and moral training. And here perhaps it may be permitted to the physiologist and academic professor to say in passing that to attempt to train certain powers while others are neglected is to run counter to the precepts of philosophy, and that true education is that which brings forward together all the powers of the whole being-body, mind, and soul.

We may, however, for the present, without risk,'turn our attention to education as more especially a rearing of the mind. And I will now put forward the question, What is the goal of education ?' Here physiology helps to supply the answer.

We are all members of one body. In a body each member has a double function. On the one hand it has a special work to do—the eye to see, the hand to , move, the lungs to breathe, and the like a work which is in itself for the good of the whole body. On the other hand it has certain duties towards the rest of the body in consonance with which it performs its special task; the muscle, while working to move some part of the body, not only does that for the body's good, but also at the same time contributes in other ways to the body's welfare. And when we set about training the body regard must be had to the general and to the special task alike. So is it also with the education of the child. He or she needs to be reared on the one hand so as to fit him or her for the common duties of citizenship: this we call general education. He or she needs on the other hand to be reared so as to be fitted for the particular task which, as to a particular member, falls to his or her lot: this is, in the broad sense, technical education. The two kinds of education are not or need not be antagonistic–indeed are at times convertible.

All education, whether general or technical, should be marked by certain common features, be guided by certain common principles. Of these the one which should be dominant is that to which we were just now led in attempting to define education, the recognition of the idea that education is the leading out of hidden powers. This may not be in accord with some systems of teaching, which seem to regard education as a 'pressing in,' as if the school were a mould into


which young minds, however diverse, were to be squeezed, to the end that, like so many pats of butter, they might be turned out stamped with the same pattern, or, as the phrase goes, as having passed the same standard. Nevertheless, whether or no in accord with such systems, the idea of leading out is in accord with true conceptions, and one of great moment for the teacher to grasp. The world is not so wealthy in individual powers, not so rich in intellectual might, that we can afford to neglect the opportunities of developing to full growth the rudiments of individual character and of bringing to full fruition the seeds of greatness which lie dormant and unsuspected among the young . While man, like all other living beings, is subject to influences which favour the rise of special character, he is no less subject to other influences, increasing it would seem with advancing civilisation, which tend to drive him to a mediocre and monotonous

The school should ally itself with the former, not with the latter, and be not a machine for stamping the stuff of humanity with the same stamp, but a sieve for sifting sorts and an instrument for turning out kinds.

Part of all education lies in the mastering of methods, in gaining the use of tools; and the fundamental methods, the primordial tools, are the venerable three R’s: reading, the knowledge of signs; writing, the making of signs; and arithmetic, the foundation of measurements.

What shall be added next?

Mankind is but a very small fraction of the universe, yet we boldly divide the universe into two parts, man and nature, and dwell as much at least on the one as on the other, as if they were equal. We may roughly divide our knowledge into that which deals primarily with man and that which deals primarily with nature; the latter makes up that which we call science, the former that which we call letters. Such a division is of course provisional, and indeed at bottom invalid; but it goes some way, and will serve as a clue to much.

In the beginning man turned his thoughts chiefly to man, and letters grew apace, while science as yet was hardly born. So literature,

. the story of man and his doings, his achievements and his hopes, early entered the schools, and held the first place there. But as the knowledge both of man and nature has in the course of time widened and deepened, man's conception of nature has spread larger and larger until, compared with it, his conception of himself has seemed not to grow at all or even to shrink. Literature, moreover, has run an uneven course, its sails now filled with a favouring wind, now flapping idly in a calm ; but science has gone on in an unbroken progress, ever laying its hand on some new, hitherto untouched thing, never letting go that which it has once grasped, steadily swelling and fixing its realm.

Science has thus always grown, but never so rapidly as in these latter

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