PRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS. lige 
Bane of the mind and topic of debate, 
That drugs the reader fo a restless doze, 
Thou that with soul-annihilating weight 
Crushest the bard and hypnotises those 
Who plod the placid path of plain pedestrian prose.’ 
To me the concluding verse appeals with special force :— 
‘From scenes like these my Muse would fain withdraw; 
To Taff’s still valley be my footsteps led, 
Where happy Unions neath the shield of Law 
Heave bricks bisected at the blackleg’s head ; 
In those calm shades my desultory oat 
Of taxed land values shall contented trill 
Of man ennobled by a single vote; 
In short, I’ll sing of anything you will, 
Except of thee alone, oh! Education Bill.’ 
Nevertheless, it is my duty to-day to address you on educational matters, and 
my object is not so much to put before you views of my own, which would come 
with slight authority and carry little weight, but to venture to present the 
opinions of others and to inquire how far such general impressions are justified. 
I should add that I limit the inquiry to the area affected by the Education Act 
of 1902, that is, to England and Wales. 
We have now had forty years’ experience of compulsory education, and 
more than ten years’ experience of the working of the Education Act of 
1902. We are spending at the present time out of the rates and taxes about 
thirty-four millions per annum upon education. It seems reasonable, as a nation 
of shopkeepers, that we should ask if we are getting value for our money, and 
the reply will, of course, depend on what we mean by value, for the man in the 
counting-house, the man in the street, and the man in the schoolroom all have 
different standards of valuation. 
Some of us are old enough to contrast the position of to-day with that of 
forty years ago. Do we observe any definite advance in knowledge, intelligence, 
character, or manners, as compared with the pre-compulsory days? We must all 
be aware of the tendency to magnify the past at the expense of the present, but, 
after making due allowance for the fact that ‘the past seems best, things present 
ever worst,’ it appears difficult to find distinct evidence of improvement in any 
way commensurate with the sacrifices which have been made. 
I have taken every opportunity of ascertaining the views of men of varied 
occupations and differing social positions upon this matter, and I confess that 
the impression received is one of universal discontent. The complaints are not 
only of want of knowledge, but also, which is far more serious, of want of 
intelligence. Consider a trivial example drawn from my own experience. I 
am a motorist in a small way. My ambition has been restricted in the matter 
of chauffeurs to lads fresh from our elementary schools, whom I have employed 
for what I may summarise as washing and greasing purposes. Some six or 
seven of such lads have passed through my hands during the past nine years, 
and all of them have been at a primary school for some seven or eight years. 
They came with good characters, and all had passed up to the fifth or sixth 
standard. None of them could spell correctly, keep simple accounts, or appear 
to derive any enjoyment from reading. Nevertheless, two of them, at all 
events, gave evidence of a real liking for mechanics, and within a year or 
so could be trusted to take the engines to pieces, clean them, and replace them 
with but little supervision. It might be argued that although they had im- 
perfectly acquired the rudiments of ‘the three R’s,’ the aptitude of these lads 
was the result of their training. Of this, however, I could find no evidence. 
It is difficult to understand how these boys could have profited so little by 
their many years of school life. If such an example is in any way typical, it 
is time to consider what the country is obtaining in return for the thirty 
millions annually expended on elementary education alone. 
It may be thought that I have been unfortunate in my experience. I do not, 
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