The privileges of graduates in arts, in law,
physic, and divinity, when they can be obtained
only by residing a certain number of years
in certain universities, necessarily force a certain
number of students to such universities,
independent of the merit or reputation of the
teachers. The privileges of graduates are a
sort of statutes of apprenticeship, which have
contributed to the improvement of education,
just as the other statutes of apprenticeship
have to that of arts and manufactures.
The charitable foundations of scholarships,
exhibitions, bursaries, &c. necessarily attach
a certain number of students to certain colleges,
independent altogether of the merit of
those particular colleges. Were the students
upon such charitable foundations left free to
choose what college they liked best, such liberty
might perhaps contribute to excite some
emulation among different colleges. A regulation,
on the contrary, which prohibited
even the independent members of every particular
college from leaving it, and going to
any other, without leave first asked and obtained
of that which they meant to abandon,
would tend very much to extinguish that
emulation.
If in each college, the tutor or teacher,
who was to instruct each student in all arts
and sciences, should not be voluntarily chosen
by the student, but appointed by the head of
the college; and if, in case of neglect, inability,
or bad usage, the student should not be
allowed to change him for another, without
leave first asked and obtained; such a regulation
would not only tend very much to extinguish
all emulation among the different
tutors of the same college, but to diminish
very much, in all of them, the necessity of
diligence and of attention to their respective
pupils. Such teachers, though very well
paid by their students, might be as much disposed
to neglect them, as those who are not
paid by them at all or who have no other recompense
but their salary.
If the teacher happens to be a man of
sense, it must be an unpleasant thing to him
to be conscious, while he is lecturing to his
students, that he is either speaking or reading
nonsense, or what is very little better than
nonsense. It must, too, be unpleasant to
him to observe, that the greater part of his
students desert his lectures; or perhaps, attend
upon them with plain enough marks of
neglect, contempt, and derision. If he is
obliged, therefore, to give a certain number
of lectures, these motives alone, without any
other interest, might dispose him to take
some pains to give tolerably good ones. Several
different expedients, however, may be
fallen upon, which will effectually blunt the
edge of all those incitements to diligence.
The teacher, instead of explaining to his pupils
himself the science in which he proposes
to instruct them, may read some book upon
it; and if this book is written in a foreign
and dead language, by interpreting it to
them into their own, or, what would give
him still less trouble, by making them interpret
it to him, and by now and then making
an occasional remark upon it, he may flatter
himself that he is giving a lecture. The
slightest degree of knowledge and application
will enable him to do this, without exposing
himself to contempt or derision, by saying
any thing that is really foolish, absurd, or
ridiculous. The discipline of the college, at
the same time, may enable him to force all
his pupils to the most regular attendance upon
his sham lecture, and to maintain the
most decent and respectful behaviour during
the whole time of the performance.
The discipline of colleges and universities
is in general contrived, not for the benefit of
the students, but for the interest, or, more
properly speaking, for the ease of the masters.
Its object is, in all cases, to maintain the authority
of the master, and, whether he neglects
or performs his duty, to oblige the students
in all cases to behave to him as if he
performed it with the greatest diligence and
ability. It seems to presume perfect wisdom
and virtue in the one order, and the greatest
weakness and folly in the other. Where the
masters, however, really perform their duty,
there are no examples, I believe, that the
greater part of the students ever neglect
theirs. No discipline is ever requisite to
force attendance upon lectures which are
really worth the attending, as is well known
wherever any such lectures are given. Force
and restraint may, no doubt, be in some degree
requisite, in order to oblige children, or
very young boys, to attend to those parts of
education, which it is thought necessary for
them to acquire during that early period of
life; but after twelve or thirteen years of age,
provided the master does his duty, force or
restraint can scarce ever be necessary to carry
on any part of education. Such is the generosity
of the greater part of young men, that
so far from being disposed to neglect or despise
the instructions of their master, provided
he shews some serious intention of being
of use to them, they are generally inclined
to pardon a great deal of incorrectness in
the performance of his duty, and sometimes
even to conceal from the public a good deal
of gross negligence.
Those parts of education, it is to be observed,
for the teaching of which there are no
public institutions, are generally the best
taught. When a young man goes to a fencing
or a dancing school, he does not, indeed,
always learn to fence or to dance very well;
but he seldom fails of learning to fence or to
dance. The good effects of the riding school
are not commonly so evident. The expense
of a riding school is so great, that in most
places it is a public institution. The three