are four, nor how many farthings in two pence even
when the money was placed in his hand. Several
boys had never heard of London nor of Willenhall,
though the latter was but an hour’s walk from
their homes, and in the closest relations with
Wolverhampton. Several had never heard the name
of the Queen nor other names, such as Nelson, Wellington,
Bonaparte; but it was noteworthy that those who
had never heard even of St. Paul, Moses, or Solomon,
were very well instructed as to the life, deeds,
and character of Dick Turpin, and especially of Jack
Sheppard. A youth of sixteen did not know
how many twice two are, nor how much four farthings
make. A youth of seventeen asserted that four
farthings are four half pence; a third, seventeen
years old, answered several very simple questions
with the brief statement, that he ’was ne
jedge o’ nothin’.’” {112a}
These children who are crammed with religious
doctrines four or five years at a stretch, know as
little at the end as at the beginning. One
child “went to Sunday school regularly for
five years; does not know who Jesus Christ is, but
had heard the name; had never heard of the twelve
Apostles, Samson, Moses, Aaron, etc.”
{112b} Another “attended Sunday school regularly
six years; knows who Jesus Christ was; he died
on the Cross to save our Saviour; had never heard
of St. Peter or St. Paul.” {113a} A third,
“attended different Sunday schools seven years;
can read only the thin, easy books with simple
words of one syllable; has heard of the Apostles,
but does not know whether St. Peter was one or St.
John; the latter must have been St. John Wesley.”
{113b} To the question who Christ was, Horne received
the following answers among others: “He
was Adam,” “He was an Apostle,”
“He was the Saviour’s Lord’s Son,”
and from a youth of sixteen: “He was
a king of London long ago.” In Sheffield,
Commissioner Symonds let the children from the Sunday
school read aloud; they could not tell what they
had read, or what sort of people the Apostles were,
of whom they had just been reading. After
he had asked them all one after the other about the
Apostles without securing a single correct answer,
one sly-looking little fellow, with great glee,
called out: “I know, mister; they were the
lepers!” {113c} From the pottery districts
and from Lancashire the reports are similar.
This is what the bourgeoisie and the State are doing for the education and improvement of the working-class. Fortunately the conditions under which this class lives are such as give it a sort of practical training, which not only replaces school cramming, but renders harmless the confused religious notions connected with it, and even places the workers in the vanguard of the national movement of England. Necessity is the mother of invention, and what is still more important, of thought and action. The English working-man who can scarcely read and still less write, nevertheless knows very well where his own interest