In this special chapter, I insert a series of interesting papers, illustrative of what may be called the interior or domestic character of school life in its various phases, in Upper Canada, from the time of the passing of Dr. Ryerson's first School Act, in 1846, to the passing of his last School Act, in 1871. These papers give a graphic, bird's-eye view of the state of the school, school houses and school teachers in the years gone by. They are by representative men—inspectors, public men and school teachers, and they are, therefore, interesting and valuable, as giving the result of the personal observation of these gentlemen.
The personal experience of the Hon. J. Sandfield Macdonald is of an earlier date than those which follow, and refers to one of the most noted of the old District Grammar Schools. It is highly interesting as a reminiscence of the early training of one of our most noted public men, and one, under whose auspices, the important School Act of 1871 was passed.
At a public dinner given to the Hon. J. Sandfield Macdonald in 1870, he thus referred to his early school days:—
"My friend, Judge Jarvis, has referred to my early life, and has very properly remarked that this is the country that offers the widest field to the industrious, or to a man of energy if he only possesses a modicum of brains.... It is true what the Judge states that I arrived in Cornwall forty years ago next autumn.... I was engaged in a dry goods store. But the Judge has told you that I was not satisfied with that state of things. I went to the school here, which has had a reputation it may be proud of ever since the time of the late Bishop Strachan. It was the school that educated the Boultons, the McGills, and the Jarvises. In the school I entered, and there I had to strive with those who were able to be maintained by their parents. I worked against them at a great disadvantage, and would have succumbed but that I was cheered on by my venerable preceptor. Many others have struggled in that school of whom Canada should be proud. One of them particularly. He was one of the brightest and most talented of the men our eastern district can boast of. But providence has thought proper to take him away from his sphere of usefulness. Need I say that I refer to that ornament of the Bench, the late Chancellor Vankoughnet.—Were Dr. Urquhart able to boast of no other pupil but that honourable gentleman, he might have retired on his laurels. If that old gentleman had not sent me a letter of encouragement I would not have been here, as I was about to break down for want of means. This letter was written in 1835, and ... I cannot help shewing what was thought of me by one who had the most perceptive idea of the ability of his pupils. This letter had the effect of making me bear up in my struggle with my superiors in position and was as follows:
"'These certify that the bearer, Mr. John S. McDonald, was a pupil in the Eastern District School, from the 19th Nov., 1832, to the 23rd Dec. last; that during that period his industry and application were close and assiduous, and that his progress in the several branches of study, to which he directed his attention, was highly respectable, and very considerably exceeded what is usually made in the same space of time; that the perseverance manifested in overcoming the difficulties to be encountered at the outset of a classical and mathematical education, called forth the particular remark and approval of his teacher, as indicating considerable energy of character, and as an earnest of future success in the prosecution of his studies. Moreover, that his general deportment duringthe same period, was most exemplary, and becoming, evincing at all times a kindly disposition towards his fellow students and a most respectful deference to the discipline of the school; and that, if the good opinion and good wishes of his teacher can on any occasion profit him, he is justly entitled to both.'"
"I owe all the spirit of independence which I have maintained throughout my career, to my learning in that school. After I left school I went into the study of the law, in the office of the late Mr. McLean."
The following admirable resumé of the former state of education and of educational progress in the county of Wellington, and indeed throughout Ontario generally, was given in an address on "Then and Now," delivered before a public meeting in Guelph, in May, 1880, by Hon. Charles Clarke, ex-Speaker of the House of Assembly. After some preliminary remarks, Mr. Clarke said:—
Little more than thirty years ago, much of the country, now known as the county of Wellington, was a wilderness. The territory north of Guelph was almost unsettled, beyond the townships of Nichol, and the settled portion possessed but few residents. In Wellington, the upper tier of townships had scarcely been entered upon, and names of places now "familiar as household words" were unknown. Such roads as there were had been simply cut through the bush, and had experienced little other improvement than that which the axe, the handspike, the logging chain and fire had afforded. Peel was in the early stage of settlement; Maryboro was almost unknown; Minto was really aterra incognito; Luther was, in popular estimation, a vast and irreclaimable swamp; Arthur had a mere handful of settlers; Mount Forest was a nameless and unbroken government reserve for a town plot, covered with virgin forest; Elora possessed some half-dozen houses; such places as Harriston, Palmerston and Drayton were not even a dream of the future; and the gravel roads, thrifty villages, and smiling farms which now make pleasant travel from the northern bank of the Grand River to the utmost bounds of Wellington, were covered with thick and luxuriant growth of maple, hemlock, elm and cedar. Everything was in primitive shape, and yet the mark of future progress was made, here and there, and coming events cast their shadow. Oxen were far more numerous than teams of horses, and neither could be regarded as plentiful. The axe was more busy than the plough, and regularly prepared more acres for the annual sowing. Money was scarce, produce was low in price, barter was the rule and not the exception, postal communication was defective, wages were poor, and "hard times" were as commonly talked about and as earnestly believed in as to-day, when, measured by the past, the term is comparatively meaningless. There was a feeling of despondency throughout the community, and people were divided as to the cause of the general depression. Some blamed the Rebellion of a few years before; others said that the effects of Family Compactism had not yet died away; and still others attributed all evils to the newly effected Union between Upper and Lower Canada. There is little wonder that, at such a time, schools and schoolmasters were under the weather, and reckoned as but of "small account" by many of our people.
Thanks to the energy, however, of a noble few, prominent amongst whom stood Egerton Ryerson, the Government of that day took steps to obtain information as to the system of public education in force in some of the states of the American Union and in Europe, and, taking Massachussetts and Prussia as a guide, enacted a sweeping amendment to School Act for Upper Canada, in the ninth year of Her Majesty's reign, and put it into operation in 1847. In 1841, the first Common School Law had been passed, and in 1843 it was amended, but the system was defective and unproductive of expected results. Under it, townships were divided into school sections, by township superintendents, who were practically uncontrolled, and therefore, in many instances, arbitrary, and these divisions were unequal in size, often unnecessarily small, and frequently unfairly made. The consequence of this state of things was unpopularity of the law, and a pretty generalconviction that common schools were too often common nuisances. The report of the Superintendent of Education, for 1847, tells us that the system produced "miserable school-houses, poor and cheap teachers, interrupted and temporary instruction and heavy rate-bills." In some districts, before the passage of the amending School Act, 9 Vic. Chap. 20, the District Council had never imposed a school assessment, depending for school maintenance entirely upon the small legislative grant apportioned to each district, and an equivalent raised solely by rate-bills or voluntary contributions. No uniformity existed in the use of class books, the township superintendent or the teacher, or even the parent dictating what should be employed in each particular section. In 1846, no fewer than 13 different spelling books, 107 readers, 35 arithmetics, 20 geographies, 21 histories, and 16 grammars, were used in our Common Schools, besides varying class books on other subjects.
The methods of teaching were almost as numerous as the teachers, and followed no specified rule. Sometimes it was by classes, often by individuals, and in other cases by an extensive use of monitors, being generally a mixture of the three styles, and nearly always a higgledy-piggledy, go-as-you-please arrangement, as easy as possible to the teacher, and as unproductive of good results to the pupil as such indefinite work might be fully expected to be. And the character of the teachers, speaking in general terms, and not forgetting many bright exceptions, was not above suspicion. Certificates were granted by township superintendents, who too often relieved the charitable, and the district council, by thrusting into the school-house the ne'er-do-wells, the infirm, the crippled, the sickly and the unfortunate, who, under ordinary circumstances, would have become dependent upon the good nature and benevolence of their fellow-citizens. In one district a superintendent, after the passage of the new School Law, was compelled to give notice that he would not grant certificates to any candidates unless they were strictly sober, and that he would cancel the certificates of all teachers who suffered themselves at any time to become intoxicated. And, we are gravely informed, the result was that a majority, not all, of the hitherto intemperate teachers became thoroughly temperate men, and that the incorrigible were dismissed. The quality of the teachers may be guessed at very fairly, it is safe to say, from the salaries paid to them. In 1845, the average was £26 2s, or $104.40; in 1846, £26 4s, or $104.80; and in 1847, £28 10s, or $114, and this, too, for the most part, exclusive of board. Had the schools been kept open during the whole of the teaching months of these years, the salaries would have averaged $134 in 1845, $147 in 1846, and $148 in 1847. It must be borne in mind that, in those days, male were much more numerous than female teachers, so that the smaller amounts generally paid to those of the gentler sex had comparatively little influence in lessening the general average. The parsimony and poverty of the people had much to do, of course, with the quality of the teacher, for men who could obtain higher wages at almost any other occupation, through physical or intellectual superiority, would not waste time and opportunity to earn more than the paltry pittance paid to the pedagogue, simply through philanthropic desire to advance the interests of the rising generation.
Says Dr. Ryerson, in the report to which I am indebted for these facts: "This small compensation of teachers is the great source of inefficiency in the common schools. Persons of good abilities and attainments will not teach for little or nothing so long as they can obtain a more ample remuneration in other pursuits." He adds, in language as truthful, and as worthy of notice to-day, as when it was written: "People cannot obtain good teachers any more than good lawyers or physicians without paying for their services." And, as he says in the next sentence, so say we all, and so I am happy to observe are many of our school corporations saying all over the province: "The intelligence of any school section or corporation of trustees may be tested by the amount of salary they are disposed to give a good teacher." If Egerton Ryerson had said and done nothing morethan this, he would have deserved the gratitude of every teacher in Ontario, simply because he had the courage to put upon record a sentiment which, at the time when he used the words, was eminently unpopular, and a direct and stinging rebuke to nearly every school-board then existent. In those days, cheap teachers were wanted, and the supply equalled the demand, while the pockets of the charitable were saved, a semblance of education was kept up, and the county poorhouses were not required so long as every other school section provided for one, at least, of those who would, in these days, be generally regarded as eligible candidates for admission thereto. The amount of interest taken in educational matters was not evidenced in small salaries alone.
The school-house, in its quality, too often matched the teacher. Of 2,572 school-houses in Upper Canada in 1847, 49 only were of brick, and 84 of stone, the others being frame and log. Of the 2,500, 800, or about one-third, were in good repair; 98 had more than one room; 1,125, or less than half, were properly furnished with desks and seats; only 367 were provided with a suitable play-ground; and not more than 163, out of 2,572, had necessary outbuildings. Coming nearer home, we find that the municipalities now comprised in the county of Wellington contained, in 1847, 43 school-houses, of which one was built of stone, 9 were frame, and 33 were log, and the report states that only 13 were good, 25 were middling, and the balance were inferior. When we remember the standard of "goodness" in those days, when school authorities at Toronto were thankful for small favors in rural districts, we can have some faint idea of the character of the buildings pronounced inferior. It is probable that they came up to the style of accommodation of the Mapleton school, in Manitoba, which I find described in the last report of the Superintendent of Protestant Schools for that Province, as follows: "Found that since my last visit the school-house has been floored; it still required plastering and ceiling and weather-boarding." What sort of a building it was before these improvements were effected, it doesn't require a very active brain to imagine, and when you have the picture in your mind's eye you will have some conception of the pleasures of teaching in the "good old times," of less than half a century ago, in Upper Canada.
Returning to 1847, we are told that in the whole of Wellington District, composed of the territory now forming the three counties of Wellington, Waterloo and Grey, there were 102 schools, of which only 22 possessed good buildings. Let us glance for a moment at the then state of finances of the school corporations in which we feel most interested. Guelph township, including the village of Guelph, raised $507.38 by the municipal assessment, for school purposes, realized $556.75 from rate-bills, and received $416.69 from the legislative grant, or a total of $1,480.82, wherewith to pay seven teachers, maintain, more or less efficiently, ten schools, and afford instruction, good, bad or indifferent, as the case might be, to 517 scholars. The township of Puslinch was nearly abreast of Guelph, and kept up 10 schools, paid 13 teachers, and had 558 scholars on the roll, at an outlay of $1,381.86, but it must be remembered that if two or three teachers were employed, at different portions of the year, in one school, they increased the grand total of teachers for the year. It may have been that, while thirteen appear to have been engaged, there were not more, and probably less than ten employed for the full teaching year. In 1847, Erin had the highest number of scholars of any municipality in the county, having returned a total of 585, in six schools, and with eleven teachers, at an outlay of $1,039.06. Amaranth was at the foot of the list, with one school, one teacher, thirty-eight scholars, and an outlay, made up from rate-bill, assessment and legislative grant, of $68.04. Peel and Wellesley, combined, had one school, three teachers,—employed at some portion or other of the year,—and spent $80.52. Nichol (including Fergus and Elora), Eramosa and Garafraxa made returns,—the name Garafraxa being spelt with a double r, as I have found it to be in all old official documents,—but Pilkington, Arthur, Maryboro, Luther and Minto do not appear to have had school organization, not even municipal existence, while, of thewhole county of Grey, Derby and Sydenham were alone mentioned in the return. It may be interesting to know—although I am aware, from painful experience, that listening to strings of figures is not the most enlivening occupation in the world,—that the whole amount paid for school purposes, in the county of Wellington, for that year, was $5,862, of which $5,763 was given to teachers, and that the average cost for each pupil taught was $2.10. One other fact may be adduced which will enable you to form a still clearer estimate of the educational status of Upper Canada at the date referred to. The Chief Superintendent had, in forms and regulations issued by him, specified the lowest general standard of qualification for teachers, but was forced to believe that a much lower standard had been acted upon by school visitors. These visitors were clergymen, magistrates and district councillors,—equivalent to our reeves,—and any two of them could examine a teacher, test his or her qualification, pretty much as they deemed best, and grant a certificate, available only for one school and one year, it is true, but nevertheless renewable, and answering every purpose of the certificate of to-day. It is not difficult to imagine a much more easy and varying examination, under such circumstances, than that which an improved system soon rendered necessary, and the quality of teachers so produced need not be further particularized.
We have thus obtained some glimpse of theThenof our educational facilities of a generation ago. The picture might be elaborated. It would be easy to fill in details from memory; to tell how the blind oft times led the blind; how the ignorant teacher insured the ignorant pupil; and how "schooling" was frequently a farce, and mere waste of time....
That the Province has made enormous strides in population, wealth, intelligence and importance, during the last thirty years, admits of no doubt. Our forests have disappeared, an improved system of agriculture has followed, manufactories have sprung up, railways have connected every county, a daily press has become an established and indispensable institution, the telegraph has economized time by practically annihilating distance, while numerous inventions and discoveries have created new wants, and supplied as rapidly as they have made them. Without losing our characteristic love of hard work—I here speak of everybody in general, and nobody in particular, and purposely avoid all personal allusions—and that industrial enterprise which springs from it, we have become a reading and much more cultured people. The scholar, endowed with physical capacity equal to that possessed by an illiterate competitor, is worth more than he in the factory, the workshop, the store, the mill, the mine, or on the sea or farm. Cultivated brain has a market value, and book learning is no longer despised, or regarded with half contempt, as the mark distinguishing the mere dreamer from the worker. To possess the "Reason Why" is no proof now-a-days of physical and practical inferiority; to know a little of everything, and everything of something, is not now the peculiar privilege of the English Gentleman. Little wonder is there, therefore, that what the school has helped to bring about, should tend to make the school more valued. That such has been its effect we have but to look around to see. Where in 1847, we, in Upper Canada, had 2,863 school houses, our last returns show that we possess more than 5,000, and while the number has so largely increased the advance in value has been in much greater proportion. In 1847 we had, in all Upper Canada, but 49 school-houses built of brick; now we boast of 1,569 built of that material, or over thirty times as many. In 1847 we had eighty-four constructed of stone; now we claim more than 500. In 1847 half of our school buildings were of logs; now not more than a seventh are of that primitive character. There are no returns of money cost of buildings or of amount expended in their erection in 1847, but we find that the expenditure for all school purposes in that year, inclusive of teachers' salaries, was $350,000, while for 1877, for erection and repairs of school-houses, fuel, etc., alone we paid $1,035,390, and a total for school purposes of $3,073,489, or, in round numbers, nine times as much as in 1847. The improved financial value of the teacher is another strong testimony, willingly borne by the people, to their increased interest in education, for, as a rule, a free people will not pay for that which they fail to appreciate. In 1847 there was paid for teachers' salaries a total sumof $310,398. In 1877 the amount was $2,038,099. In 1847 there were 3,028 teachers employed, while in 1877 there were 6,468. In 1847, board was often given in addition to the nominal salary, and was, in fact, part of the teacher's remuneration. Grant that the teachers here enumerated as serving in 1847 were employed eight months in that year—which is more than the average—and put board at $2 per week, which was higher than was the average rate in those days—the average payment to each teacher would not exceed $170, and this was fully equal to, if not greater than was actually allowed. In 1877 the average amount paid to each teacher was $315. The larger amount willingly paid in 1877 for the support of Free Schools, than was unwillingly given in 1847, for the maintenance of rate-supported schools—for payment was then made under protest, and the school law was exceedingly unpopular, while rate-bills and contributions were nearly everywhere necessary, in addition to municipal assessments, to make up the teachers' salaries—is yet another proof of the hold which the educational movement has taken upon the judgment and sympathy of the people of Ontario. In 1847, too, pupils were grudgingly taught, at a cost of $2.80 per head, while in 1877 the average was $6.20. And when we add to all these things the fact that, in 1847, only 124,829 pupils attended our common schools, out of a school population of 230,975, or scarcely one in two, while in 1877, out of a school population of 494,804, not less than 490,860 names were entered on the roll, it is needless to say anything further in illustration of the marked contrast between the two periods, of the immense superiority of the present over the past condition of our schools, and of the public opinion which is necessary to their effective maintenance.
And the standard of teaching ability, in so far as literary acquirements go, has kept pace with the progress which has otherwise characterized the history of a scholastic generation. We have long got past the period when any two magistrates, any two reeves, or even any two clergymen, could grant permission to teach, and annually invest the teacher with legal status. We subject our examiners themselves to examinations, have uniformity in the character of our examination papers, and propound questions to candidates which fully and fairly test their educational attainments. We have gone beyondthat, and instituted county Normal Schools—for such our Model Schools may be fairly termed—at which we require applicants for a certificate to still further establish their fitness for the work upon which they seek to enter. We have not reached perfection, but we have travelled a long distance in the direction in which it lies. We have made every school practically free, built up a High School system which opens up to all seekers after higher education ample opportunity to prepare for the University course, at a minimum of cost, and placed our University upon such a footing that its advantages are not the exclusive privilege of the well-to-do, but are proffered to even the poorest student who cares to submit to a period of self-denial, and lose a little extra time in early life, for the purpose of securing them. As a people we have done no more than, probably not so much as, we ought to do, with the view of placing educational facilities within the reach of every child born or brought into the Province, but we have, nevertheless, ventured and effected more than has been attempted in many older and more wealthy lands. We have the consciousness of having done our duty, according to our lights. In our long-settled sections of country the school-house bell is within the hearing, or the school-house itself is within sight of nearly every family. In newer portions of the Province, wherever half-a-dozen or so of clearances are commenced, in the wilds of Muskoka or Algoma, provision is made for the instruction of the little ones who bless those backwoods' homes. The school-master is abroad throughout the land, and is doing much to ensure a glowing future for our country, and when his work is done, and he is compelled to retire from his labors, we willingly open the public purse and give to him that which keeps him above absolute penury, and assures him that, while Ontario cares only to help those who possess the disposition to help themselves, she is neither ungrateful nor forgetful. And, seeing all these things, we cannot help feeling that our youthful Province may modestly and yet proudly lift her head amongst the nations of the earth, assured that there are none who can reproach her with neglect of the first and best interests of those little children whom God has entrusted to her keeping.
From an elaborate report prepared by the Rev. W. H. Landon, School Superintendent, to the Municipal Council of the district of Brock (county of Oxford) in 1849, I make the following extracts. The first refers to the educational supineness of the people:—
"Up to a recent period (say the last two years), the people, generally, seems to have entered upon no enquiries, and to have formed no just conclusion on the subject of education, or the proper means of imparting it. They seemed to think, if they thought at all, that all schools were equal, and that all teachers who could read, write, etc., in a better manner than their pupils were equally good.... As to books, it was supposed that any one, or any ten of the fifty different varieties of spelling books in use, with the English Reader, was all that was requisite for the reading classes, while a few treatises on arithmetic taken at random from the almost endless variety with which the country was flooded, would supply the means of imparting a knowledge of the science of numbers, and two or three grammars by as many different authors, would supply material for the grammar class and complete the stock of text books for the schools."...
Mr. Landon draws the following graphic picture of the school-house "shanties" of those days. He also gives a vivid view of the interior:
"The school-houses in many instances (though not in all) are miserable shanties made of logs loosely and roughly put together; the interstices filled with clay, portions of which are from time to time crumbling down filling the place with filth and dust. Under your feet are loose boards, without nails, across which, when one walks, a clatter is produced equal to that heard in a lumber yard. Over your head are the naked rafters, stained with smoke and hung with cobwebs and dust. Two or three little windows, generally half way up the walls, admit the light; and a rough door which does not fit the opening, creaks upon its wooden hinges.... The writing desks are generally long sloping shelves pinned up against the walls as high as the breasts of the pupils who sit before them. The seats are without backs and from eighteen inches to two feet high. Sometimes we have a master's desk, but awkwardly constructed, for the most part too high for the sitting posture and too low for the standing one.... We have no blackboards, no maps and no illustrative apparatus of any kind.
"When we enter one of these schools, we behold a picture of discomfort and misery. The children are perched upon the benches before described: but as they have no support for their backs, and as only the taller of them can reach the floor with their feet, marks of weariness and pain are visible in their features and postures. Some to procure rest and ease to their aching frames have drawn up both feet upon the bench and are sitting cross-legged like a tailor on the shop board. Others stooping forward, rest their elbows upon their knees, with one hand supporting their chins and with the other holding up their books before their weary eyes; while all avail themselves of every possible excuse to change their position and so obtain relief. Some asking permission to go out, others to get a drink, and many constantly flocking to the teacher's desk with words to be pronounced, sums to be examined and corrected, pens to be mended, or difficulties to be explained, in connection with grammar, or other lesson, etc. So that the place is filled with noise and disorder, rendering study impossible and anything like the cultivation of cheerful and benevolent affections entirely out of the question."...
Then follows an example of the character of the teaching "in a school in the centre of one of the largest and wealthiest townships" in the district of Brock:—
"This school was taught by a person who in his youth had enjoyed what we term superior advantages, being connected with a family of highest respectability. Notice of my intended visit had several days before been sent to the teacher. The female pupils had ... decorated the place with evergreens and bouquets of flowers. The room, though humble and coarse, was neat and tidy. When I entered, the class in the fourth book of lessons was reading. A book was put into my hands and I desired them to proceed.... When they were done reading I proceeded to examine them on thelesson. Great Britain was mentioned in the lesson and allusion made to her people and institutions. My first question, therefore was—Where is Great Britain? From the vacant and surprised stare with which this question was received I was satisfied that they had no clear conception of what Great Britain was.... I finally asked what is the form of Government in Great Britain? As no answer was given, I ... asked whether a King, Queen or President governed in Great Britain? To this question a pupil, aided by the teacher, who whispered in her ear, replied a Queen. I than asked her name.... After a good deal of hesitation, a young woman of eighteen or twenty years of age, replied "Queen Elizabeth!"
In connection with the realistic picture of education in the County of Oxford, in 1847-49, sketched by the Rev. W. H. Landon, District Superintendent, the following dual pictures of "The Old Log School" and "The Pioneer Teachers," taken from the TorontoGlobeof 1887, will be found to be highly interesting. The pictures are graphically drawn by a teacher, and from a teacher's standpoint. Speaking of the representative teacher of a former generation recalling the past, he said:—
The old days come up vividly before him, when he first engaged in the work in some country district, engaging to devote to it the best energies of body and mind, for, it may be, some such munificent salary as eight or ten dollars a month, said salary to be supplemented by the saving in expense effected through the process formerly so much in vogue of boarding around. How well he remembers the old log school house, with its low ceiling on which a tall man could easily lay his hand; the narrow apertures, fitted with a few panes of 7×9 glass which served for windows; the floor of unplaned boards, whose crevices were either compactly filled with accumulations of dust and litter characteristic of the school room, or worse still, yawning to swallow up pen-knife and slate pencil as they would ever and anon drop from the fingers of some luckless wight, started from the half slumber into which the drowsy monotony of the ill-ventilated school room had beguiled him, by the stentorian tones, or possibly the vigorous cuffs, of the master of ceremonies. Very distinctly the vision of such a school room of the old type, though at a date much less than fifty years ago, rises before the writer as memory carries him back to the little Canadian hamlet in which his boyhood was passed. The desks, so as far any were provided, consisted of a wide shelf fixed at a pretty sharp angle against the wall, and extending all around the room, with an intermission only at the narrow space occupied by the door. This primitive arrangement was sometimes supplemented with a long, flat table composed of three or four loose planks in the rough, supported by wooden benches or horses placed transversely beneath. The seats were of planks or slabs, likewise unsmoothed, constructed by driving rudely hewn legs into holes bored with a large augur, at a suitable angle, in the lower surface of the plank or slab. These legs often projected an inch or so above the surface of the seat. It could not be said of these rude structures as in Cowper's "Evolution of the sofa," that "the slippery seat betrayed the sliding part that pressed it," for between the projecting legs and the innumerable "splinters" the unhappy occupant was in much greater danger of being impaled and pinned fast than of slipping off. Perhaps it was better so, for in view of the great height usually given them, the fall, for a small child, while it would most surely have been a "laughing matter," might yet have proved a serious one.... It was certainly a strange and cruel infatuation which constrained our grandfathers to think that the proper position for a boy or girl at school was upon a narrow perch, without back or arm support of any kind, and with the feet dangling some six or eight inches above the floor.
The picture of the old school bench would not be accurate without reference to the warping of the plank which was pretty sure soon to take place, with the result of raising one or other of the diagonal legs an inch or two from the floor, thus converting the seat, when filled with its living, aching load, into a tilting board, provocation of many a trick from the omnipresent mischievous boy of the school, and resulting in many a blow from the palm or cane of the irate master, which would, of course, generally descend upon innocent ears or shoulders.
What a picture did the wooden desks and walls of those old-time school houses present, worn smooth with the elbows, smeared with the jackets, variegated with the ink, carved with the jack-knives and stained with the tears of boisterous and blubbering boys and rosy-cheeked, hoydenish or timid girls. What burlesque, too, upon every intelligent idea of education were the processes carried on in them. From nine o'clock to twelve, and from one till four, six long hours, as marked by the sun's shadow on the rude dial marked out on the windowsill, did the work go on.
Murray's Reader, and in the most ambitious districts his Grammar, Walker's Dictionary, Walkingame's Arithmetic, Goldsmith's Geography and somebody's spelling-book, with slate and pencil, a scanty supply of paper and ink, and pen shaped with a keen pen-knife from a quill picked up from the wayside or plucked ruthlessly from the wing of some reluctant "squawking" goose, would complete the scholar's outfit. It is the hour for preparation of the reading lesson. The school room resounds with the loud hum of a score or two of boys and girls all "studying aloud" with a most distracting din, and all the heads and bodies swaying constantly and simultaneously back and forth as an accompaniment to the voice. This voice in the case of perhaps a majority would be modulated without the slightest relation to the contents of the printed page, while the thoughts of the ostentatiously industrious student would be busy with some projected game or trick for the coming recess. And yet how often would the Scotch school master's eye gleam with pride and pleasure when he had, by dint of persuasion or threat, succeeded in getting every boy and girl engaged in the horrible, monotonous chant.
Then the recitation—what a scene of confusion and stripes, tears and bellowings. Perhaps it was the column of spellings. A few, fitted by nature with memories adapted for that kind of work, would make their way in triumph to the head of the long semicircular class. But woe, woe to the dullards and the dunces, under a regime whose penalty for missing a word a foot and a half long would be, very likely, two or three strokes on the tingling fingers or aching palm with the pitiless hardwood ferule, this process being occasionally varied as some noisy or idling youngster was called up from a back seat to be visited with a still sterner chastisement for some trifling misdemeanor.... The writer can recall instances and experiences innumerable, the infliction being sometimes accompanied with a caution to tell no tales at home under pain of a worse infliction. In his own case he well remembers the wrath of his father, who would have thought it wrong and encouraging insubordination to listen to any complaints against the master, when, on occasion of the victim of a tendency to juvenile pranks being dangerously ill with scarlet fever, and that father being called on by the doctor to annoint his back with some soothing lotion, he found said back striped and checked with a network of "black and blue." It is needless to add that at this point ended both the writer's experience under that schoolmaster and the schoolmaster's term of engagement in that district.
As a significant comment upon the moral effects of the regime of the schoolmasters of the old school the writer may add that one of his most vivid memories of the mental status produced by the school training referred to is that of an intense longing for the day when he should be large enough to repay that old schoolmaster in his own coin. That day came. The flagellated boy, transformed into a tolerably lusty youth, found himself face to face with his quondam tormenter. But his long cherished wrath speedily gave place to pity for the decrepit, friendless and lonely old bachelor, whose days were drawing to a close, with no loving hand of wife or daughter to minister to their feebleness.
The writer of the foregoing paper pictured roughly the rural Canadian school of forty or fifty years ago. It may not be without interest to have that picture supplemented with a glimpse of rural Canadian life as seen by the schoolmaster of the period. The "boarding 'round" system afforded him excellent facilities for observation. The venerable custom of boarding round died, no doubt, a good many years ago, so far as Canada is concerned.... But thirty or forty years ago it was, in some parts of Canada at least, almost a matter of course that the teacher should "board 'round." When a schoolbecame vacant or a new and ambitious settlement had reached the pitch of development at which a school was deemed a necessary sequent to the carpenter's shop, the smithy and the shoemaker's shanty, one of the first steps was, of course, to pitch upon a suitable candidate for the scanty honors and still more scanty emoluments of the village pedagogue. Probably some influential member of the community had a son or a daughter in the teens, who was thought pretty well up in "the three R's." If so, it would usually be deemed quite unnecessary to look farther. In fact it would, in such a case, be useless for an outsider to contest the constituency. It never entered the unsophisticated heads of the trustees to invite competition by advertising for candidates "to state salary expected." This method of putting up professional talent in a kind of Dutch auction is an evolution of our present "best educational system on earth." Our grandfathers went about the business in a different way. The coming teacher being fixed upon, the next step was for the candidate himself, or some interested relative or friend on his behalf, to circulate a subscription sheet. A form of heading would be prepared somewhat in the following style:—"We, the undersigned residents of Smithton District, being desirous of securing the services of Henry Schoolman as teacher of the district school, hereby agree to engage the services of said H. S. for the period of six months, and to pay him at the rate of £1 2s 6d for each and every pupil we hereunto subscribe or send to said school. We further agree to supply the teacher with board in proportion to our several subscriptions; also to furnish our proportions of wood for the use of said school. Signed, etc."
The average juvenile Canadian made, no doubt, a much more merciful, and often much more efficient, teacher than the ex-soldier, or broken-down tradesman from the Old Country. One of the first duties of the newly-fledged teacher would be to go carefully over his treasured list of subscribers and ascertain, by a careful arithmetical calculation, the exact number of weeks and days for which he was entitled to board and lodging at the house of each of his respective patrons. The next step would be to find out, by personal or written enquiries, at what time it would be most convenient for each family to open its doors to him. This process, and the subsequent installation in each home would, it may well be imagined, be trying ordeals to the young and bashful pedagogue.... The receptions accorded the poor itinerant would be, of course, as various as the feelings, dispositions and circumstances of the householders, or, more strictly speaking, of the presiding divinities of the parlor and the kitchen, especially the kitchen. In many cases he would quickly feel at home. The welcome would be cordial, the hospitality ungrudging, the companionship agreeable. In such cases the bashful beginner would soon be able to shake off the intolerably humiliating dread of being regarded as an intruder, an interloper, or half-mendicant. But in numerous instances, as may readily be conceived, the situation would be most galling to a sensitive nature. The over-worked, perpetually tired and fretful mistress of the house would receive him with an ill-concealed frown or an involuntary sigh. To her he represented just so much addition, for so long a time, to her hourly toils and cares, already too heavy to be borne.
Unwashed specimens of "the heritage of the poor" would swarm in every corner. The fear and awe which secured him immunity for a time would soon wear away, and as they were replaced with the familiarity that breeds contempt, he would be exposed to all manner of well-meant advances and indignities. The scorn at the roughly-spread supper table would be a scramble, and the twilight hour, which, if he happened to have a spice of romance in his composition, he would fain have consecrated to quiet thought or fancy, would be made hideous by a juvenile pandemonium, as amidst stripes and cuffs and yells and tears the unruly flock would finally be got to bed. These, of course, were the ill-regulated householders, but they exist.
Well does the writer remember some personal experiences in this delightful phase of the professional life of an earlier day—not much more than half a semi-centennial distant. The old, dingy farmhouse, the bare floors, the hard seats, the utter absence of everything in the shape of books or other literature, the teeming olive branches at every age and stage of development, the little "spare" bedroom, whose sole furnishings consisted of the bed and bedding, on whose hard floor he reclined for lack of chair and table evening after evening for hours after he was supposed to be in bed, reading by the feeble rays of atallow candle the ponderous volumes of Dr. Dick's philosophies, which had been kindly loaned him by a friend, and which were devoured with an eagerness begotten of a genuine hunger, though out of all proportion to the literary merits of the works.
Rude and unfinished and uncomfortable as it was, "The Old School House" would be sure to bring up to many an "old boy" tender memories, which would be recalled in after years in words somewhat like those in poetic form as follows:
It stood on a bleak country corner,The houses were distant and few;A meadow lay back in the distance,Beyond rose the hills to our view.The road, crossing there at right angles,Untraversed by pomp and array;Were cropped by the cows in the summer,I've watched them there many a day.In memory's hall hangs the picture,And years of sad care are between;It hangs with a beautiful gilding,And well do I love it, I ween.It stood on a bleak country corner,But boyhood's young heart made it warm;It glowed in the sunshine of summer,'Twas cheerful in winter and storm.The teacher, O well I remember,My heart has long kept him in place;Perhaps by the world he's forgotten,His memory no touch can efface.He met us with smiles on the threshold,And in that rude temple of art,He left, with the skill of a workman,His touch on the mind and the heart.Oh! gay were the sports of the noontide,When winter winds frolicked with snow;We laughed at the freaks of the storm-king,And shouted him on all aglow.We flashed at his beautiful sculpture,Regardless of all its array;We plunged in the feathery snow-drifts,And sported the winter away.We sat on the old-fashioned benches,Beguiled with our pencil and slate;We thought of the opening future,And dreamed of our manhood's estate.I cast a fond glance o'er the meadow,The hills just behind it I see;Away in the charm of the distance,Old school house! a blessing on thee!
It stood on a bleak country corner,The houses were distant and few;A meadow lay back in the distance,Beyond rose the hills to our view.The road, crossing there at right angles,Untraversed by pomp and array;Were cropped by the cows in the summer,I've watched them there many a day.
In memory's hall hangs the picture,And years of sad care are between;It hangs with a beautiful gilding,And well do I love it, I ween.It stood on a bleak country corner,But boyhood's young heart made it warm;It glowed in the sunshine of summer,'Twas cheerful in winter and storm.
The teacher, O well I remember,My heart has long kept him in place;Perhaps by the world he's forgotten,His memory no touch can efface.He met us with smiles on the threshold,And in that rude temple of art,He left, with the skill of a workman,His touch on the mind and the heart.
Oh! gay were the sports of the noontide,When winter winds frolicked with snow;We laughed at the freaks of the storm-king,And shouted him on all aglow.We flashed at his beautiful sculpture,Regardless of all its array;We plunged in the feathery snow-drifts,And sported the winter away.
We sat on the old-fashioned benches,Beguiled with our pencil and slate;We thought of the opening future,And dreamed of our manhood's estate.I cast a fond glance o'er the meadow,The hills just behind it I see;Away in the charm of the distance,Old school house! a blessing on thee!
Mr. Canniff Haight, in Canada of "Fifty Years Ago," gives the following account of the common school education of his day:—"The schoolhouse was close at hand, and its aspect is deeply graven in my memory. It was a small, square structure, with low ceiling. In the centre of the room was a box stove, around which the long wooden benches, without backs, were ranged. Next the wall were the desks, raised a little from the floor. In the summer time the pupils were all of tender years, the elder ones being kept at home to help with the work. I was one of a lot of little urchins ranged daily on hard wooden seats, with our feet dangling in the air for seven or eight hours a day. Insuch a plight we were expected to be very good children, to make no noise, and to learn our lessons. It is a marvel that so many years had to elapse before parents and teachers could be brought to see that keeping children in such a position for so many hours was an act of great cruelty. The terror of the rod was the only thing that could keep us still, and at that often failed. Sometimes, tired and weary, we fell asleep and tumbled off the bench, to be awakened by the fall of the rod. In the winter time, the small school was filled to overflowing with the larger boys and girls. This did not improve our condition, for we were more closely packed together, and were either shivering with the cold or being roasted with a red-hot stove.... I next sat under the rod of an Irish pedagogue—an old man who evidently believed that the only way to get anything into a boy's head was to pound it in with a stick through his back. There was no discipline, and the noise we made seemed to rival a bedlam.—pp. 17, 18.
"As far as my recollection goes, the teachers were generally of a very inferior order, and rarely possessed more than a smattering of the rudiments of grammar and arithmetic. They were poorly paid, and "boarded round" the neighbourhood. But it is not improbable that they generally received all that their services were worth.... The school-houses where the youth were taught were in keeping with the extent of instruction received within them. They were invariably small, with low ceilings, badly lighted, and without ventilation."—pp. 157, 158.
From the TorontoMailof November 28th, 1888, I select the following graphic account of the personal experience of a school teacher in 1865:—
"'Yes," said an old teacher to a representative of theMailyesterday, "education has been wonderfully revolutionized in Ontario during the last twenty-five years. It was in January, 1865, that I first took up the birch, swaying it until I cautiously made up my mind to quit when the new Act requiring higher qualifications came into force in 1871. At that time the school houses in my county were all constructed of logs, and more uninviting buildings than these were not to be found in the country. It did appear that the ratepayers were more led to educate their children out of a feeling of latent and legal compulsion, than out of duty and parental regard. The life of a teacher in those days was not the high-toned one of to-day. Let me give my own experience, and when I have related it you will see how much there is in the complaints and grumblings of the existing generation of school teachers.
"'A school became vacant in the neighboring township, and I made up my mind, armed as I was with a first-class certificate awarded me by the County Board of Examaminers, that I would apply for the position.
"'I went to two influential men in the neighborhood and succeeded in coaxing them to go with me to the trustees of the school. We arrived at the section in due time, and after making due enquiries proceeded to the house of one of the trustees, who had the reputation of knowing everything worth discovering in the school law of the period. I felt an awful dread and confusion come over me when in the presence of that trustee. I was introduced, and I immediately told my errand. The horny-handed son of toil gave me one of those inscrutable looks that nearly sunk me to the earth. He coughed slightly, jerked his head back, put his two hands in the pockets of his trousers, and immediately proceeded to business.'
"'So yous wants the school, does you?'
"'I do, sir.'
"'Well, I might as well tell ye at once that the teacher we intend hiring must be better than the present one. He is a curse to the children of this section, with his grammar and his jography, and all his other fal da rals. Why, sir; my son Bill comes home the other night and says he,
"'Father, what is grammar?'
"I says, Bill, I never studied grammar, and you see how I am able to get along without it. Grammar is no good for ploughing or cutting up that slash fornent the house."
"Well," says the boy, "would you tell me what our teacher meant by saying that Berlin is on the Spree?" I then got mad, and says I, "Bill, never let me hear ye say anything more about these things. Sure they were never taught to us from the New Testament when I was in school."
But that is not all, the boy began to say to himself, orthography, etymology, syntax, and prosody, going over them again and again, until I says to Moriah, "is the child getting mad, wife!"
No sooner had he heard that than he began to say, "Noun, adjective, pronoun, adverb, preposition, noun, adjective, pronoun, preposition," as before. I then got afeard the child was clean crazy, and when I was in the act of rising to catch hold of him, says he, "Father, the earth is not flat, it is a round ball and goes round."
"Och, och," says I, "that spalpeen of a school master has driven my son mad."...
So I calls a meeting, and my two colleages, Thomas Ginty and Edward Crawford, and myself, met at the school house and dismissed the rascal.
When the leader of education of school section No. 5 —— stopped, I turned to my companions, not knowing what qualifications were expected of me.
The trustee continued:—"Can you read?" "Yes." "Can you cipher?" "Yes." "Do you know how to count by long division?" "I do." "You don't know grammar?"
Here was the crucial test. I resolved, however, to get out of it the best way possible, and replied:—"I don't like grammar, and don't know much about it," which was true. "Good."
The trustee smiled sweetly and said:—"The school is yours; but, remember, no grammar or jography, or out you go."
I was taken to the other trustees, and in their presence I was put through the same examination as above recorded.
The bargain was struck there and then. I was promised fifteen dollars a month board from house to house, with the condition that I should put on the fires in winter, and keep the school house clean—a herculean task in those days.
On the morning that I was to assume my pedagogic duties, I arrived at the school house about 8 a.m., and at once proceeded to build a fire. I never can forget the feeling of utter loneliness which came over me, as I stood opposite a fireplace wide enough to accommodate an ox. On the walls of the building were three maps, of what countries I do not now remember, because geography was proscribed during myregime. Daylight was seen through the walls. The seats were of the most primitive character, while my own desk resembled more the top of a toboggan slide than the rostrum of one who was teaching the young idea how to shoot. There was no fence round the building, the play ground being illimitable in its dimensions and capacities. In short the whole of the surroundings of this rural academy congealed all literary aspirations, and it was little wonder that the boys and girls meeting there, and pretending to be drinking at the fountain of knowledge, grew up utterly destitute of the first principles of a rational and suitable education.
The children arrived, and I immediately began to assert my authority as the head of the institution. I made a short speech, telling the children that nothing would be taught in my school but reading, writing and 'rithmetic, adding that the ten commandments would be included in the curriculum. I got along famously that day with the pupils, and as I was told afterwards, when my charges went home and told their parents the new order of things, I was universally pronounced the greatest teacher of the age. I lodged that night with Trustee Fallis, my examiner. He was delighted with the reports given by Bill of my mode of teaching, and in a moment of confidence told me that the school was mine as long as I liked to keep it. I humbly thanked him, and retired tomy room, where I found Bill, the heir of the house, in innocent slumber. Bill did not by any means prove a pleasant bed-fellow. Occasionally his feet were found where his head should be, and he repeatedly called out, "No grammar! Hurrah!" Next morning I rose, and after breakfast majestically strode through two feet of snow to the log school house, and then put in another day's grinding.
At four o'clock the trustees met and handed me a badly written and worse spelled manuscript, which on perusal I found to be the list of houses I was to board at during the coming three months.... Now, sir, continued the dominie, I put in a whole year of that kind of work; listened to all the gossip of the neighborhood, slept occasionally on the floor, nursed all the babies of the section, and just as I thought that my position was secure, disaster overcame me. One of the trustees had a daughter of prepossessing appearance, and I could not resist the temptation of falling in love with her. When the news got abroad that I was paying attentions to her, the section began to talk adversely of myself. Complaints were soon heard as to my teaching. Some said that I was teaching grammar on the sly, and that I was partial to some of the children. The result of it all was that a meeting of the board took place, and, despite the protests of Thomas Ginty, I was, in the language of modern times, "fired."
"Now," continued the old teacher, "the moral of what I told you is this:—Compare the log school house, its internal arrangements and play grounds, with those of to-day throughout the whole country, and you have the greatest exemplification possible of the progress made by Ontario during the last quarter of a century. There is scarcely a section now but has its brick school house, with surroundings attractive and neat. The teacher is given ample opportunity to cultivate the minds of his pupils to the highest pitch possible, at least as far as requisite for the general affairs of life. The old prejudices against teaching anything else but the three R's are gone. You have the walls of the buildings ornamented with maps, charts and other appliances. Text-books are provided of the most modern character, while a rigid system of examinations acts as an incentive to the teacher and makes him an instructor in fact and reality. Lastly, we have an intelligent and cultured class of teachers, and taking all things into consideration, they are well paid, and still better, their services are year by year becoming more appreciated. A better class of people now act in the capacity of trustees, and as years roll by a still more intelligent class will be found in these positions.
In conversation with a Reporter of theHamilton Timesin 1888, Mr. James Cummings, who, after thirty-seven years service on the City Board of Education, thus related his early educational experience:—
"At the time I first became connected with the board in 1852," said Mr. Cummings, "education was at rather a low ebb, not only in Hamilton, but throughout the country. Dr. Ryerson had just commenced his excellent common school scheme and in 1847, had established a training school for teachers in Toronto. Hamilton had decided to adopt the common school system and the reorganization of the schools was just being effected. Previous to that time the education of the children of the better class was almost wholly in the hands of private school teachers. There were a few small school rooms in the different wards, but they were wretched places, where usually fifty children were crowded into a small room reeking with fetid atmosphere. On the site of the present Cannon street school was a small frame grammar school, at which many of the present leading citizens received the ground-work of their education. A great reform was inaugurated here in the year 1852. Under the new Ryerson Act of 1850 trustees were clothed with new powers, and we immediately proceeded to reorganize the schools here on the new plan. Tenders were let for the erection of the present Central school and for ward schools in different parts of the city. Mr. (now Dr. J. H.) Sangster was appointed head master, and to him was entrusted the appointment of teachers, and he was made responsible for the efficiency of the schools. He had been a teacher in the Ryerson model school in Toronto, and he appointed as his assistants thoroughly trained graduates ofthat excellent institution. This was the founding of Hamilton's excellent common school system. It kept improving from year to year and soon closed out the private schools. Larger ward schools were erected, and since that day Hamilton has taken a high position educationally in the Province."
Dr. Ryerson was invited to open the new Public School in the town of Barrie in 1872. Before the ceremony was proceeded with a letter was read from Judge (now the Hon. Senator) Gowan, who was unable to be present, referring to his long services in the cause of education in the County of Simcoe. He said:—
"Ever since I came to this country, nearly thirty years ago, I have been connected with the school system, having held the office of Trustee of the Grammar School, and the position of Chairman of the Board of Public Instruction from its first institution till superseded by recent enactment, and, with the exception of my friend, Mr. Dallas, I am the only member of the original Board now living.
"I have seen the gradual improvement in the school system, and the improvement in the schools in this country from very small beginnings to the present advanced and most prosperous condition, so you will understand my disappointment in not being able to be present on the interesting occasion of laying the corner-stone of the Public School house of Barrie, by the Chief Superintendent of Education.
"My position as Secretary and Treasurer of the Grammar School, and Chairman of the Board of Public Instruction, in this, the largest county in Ontario, brought me in constant communication with the Education Office in Toronto; and I can say that the able, zealous, and wise administration of the school law by Dr. Ryerson and his assistant, Dr. Hodgins, has, here at least, had a happy effect—fostering the increase of schools, securing their better management, giving them efficient teachers, and providing the means, within easy access to all, of securing a good common education to the youth of this country, and a very superior education in the Grammar Schools."
Mr. (now Judge) Boys, gave a sketch of the educational history of Barrie as follows:
"Twenty years ago there was no Public or Common School, not, however, without school accommodation, as we were then included in what was known as School Section No. 1 of the adjoining Township of Vespra. We had no building specially set apart as a school house, but a rented room then sufficed to carry on the daily teaching embraced within the section.... Twenty years ago one teacher took charge of all our scholars—both male and female—and if there is any doubt as to his labor having been great, there can be none as to his salary having been small, for he subsisted on a sum of £60 per annum.
"In January, 1854, Barrie became possessed of a school of its own, and built a school house of frame 24 × 36, just about large enough to fill up one room in the building we are now erecting. It was, no doubt, at the time it was built, amply large, yet I find, from the record of the school, that such was the growth of the town by September, 1854, non-residents were refused admittance to the Barrie school on the ground of its over-crowded state, the average attendance of males being seventy—the females were then taught in another building by a female teacher. This state of things continued for nearly a year, when a separate school was established for Barrie, which brought some relief to the over-crowded building. But it was evident that more school accommodation would have to be supplied, and I see by the minute book of the school, that a new school house was talked of so far back as January, 1855. The new school house, however, never came. The difficulty at last was settled by an enlargement of the old building, which then assumed the appearance it now presents. With the enlarged school house, supplemented by some rented rooms, the schools of Barrie have ever since continued to the present time. It took time to convince our people of the imperative necessity there was for a large outlay in providing a new school house. But the ratepayers became convinced at last, and gave their hearty approval to an expenditure which will enable us, during thenext year, to erect a school building suitable to the place, and one worthy of the trouble you, sir, have taken to be present at its official commencement. During the time I refer to, a Grammar School building of brick was erected and enlarged, and a Separate School building put up.
"To-day, with your kind assistance, we have inaugurated a system of Public School accommodation which, with our school known as the Barrie School, Separate and High Schools, will ultimately provide for the educational wants of the neighborhood. I use the expression 'inaugurated a system,' because I hope and trust that our efforts in this direction will not be slackened on the completion of this building.... We believe this building will be worthy of the honor you have done us in coming here to-day, we also believe at some future day, we shall have a system of Public School accommodation worthy of the life-long and successful efforts you have made to give to Ontario an almost perfect system of education. It is seldom that public men are asked to assist in building a monument to themselves, but I have asked you to do so on this occasion, for I look upon buildings of this nature as memorials of your well-directed public work during the last thirty years, and when you have gone to your long home, and the envy—aye—and the malice of your enemies are forgotten, your name associated with the noble work you have accomplished, will be handed down from generation to generation, and each school section throughout the country will contain a monument to your memory, as enduring as the foundations of this continent."