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.

This is an extremely disagreeable discovery.  It is, however, as will presently be seen, a result which might have been expected.  Those who looked for so splendid an outcome of this magnificent educational machinery, this enormous expenditure, forgot to take into account two or three very important factors.  They were, first, those we have already indicated, stupidity, apathy, and indolence; and next, the exigencies and conditions of labour.  These shall be presently explained.  Meantime, the discovery once made, and once plainly stated, seems to have been frankly acknowledged and recognised by all who are interested in educational questions:  it has been made the subject of a great meeting at the Mansion House, which was addressed by men of every class:  and it has, further, which is a very valuable and encouraging circumstance, been seriously taken up by the Trades Unions and the working men.

As for the situation, it is briefly as follows: 

The children leave the Board Schools, for the most part, at the age of thirteen, when they have passed the standard which exempts them from further attendance; or if they are half-timers, they remain until they are fourteen.  At this ripe age, when the education of the richer class is only just beginning, these children have to leave school and begin work.  Whatever kind of work this may be, it is certain to involve a day’s labour of ten hours.  It might be thought—­at one time it was fully expected—­that the children would by this age have received such an impetus and imbibed so great a love for reading that they would of their own accord continue to read and study on the lines laid down, and eagerly make use of such facilities as might be provided for them.  In the History of the Well-intentioned we shall find that we are always crediting the working classes with virtues which no other class can boast.  In this case we credited the children of working men with a clear insight into their own best interests; with resolution and patience; with industry; with the power of resisting temptation, and with the strength to forego present enjoyment.  This is a good deal to expect of them.  But apply the sane situation