Anno Domini 2071 — Part 7

University Education.

"Meanwhile those exaggerated systems of examination had led to some experience, beneficial, though rather unpleasant.

It gradually became to be noticed by competent persons that, in proportion as the students prepared for the required and enforced government examinations, there grew a dislike or decline of free study, an aversion to pure science, which is more dependent upon clear judgment than practised memory.

And thus was lost the principal aim of all higher instruction which is not the 'training' for certain professions, but the complete and entire development of all the slumbering faculties of man.

[15] The Dutch people began to see that they had been following the example of the Chinese, who surpass every nation under the sun in the length of their examinations; indeed, they found that they had run great risk of becoming the Chinese of Europe.

It became generally recognised that every principle, however good in itself, may be 'overdone;'

that examinations, however difficult to dispense with altogether, will always remain a sad necessity; and that it is perfectly chimerical to think of government examinations so arranged as to not only produce an universal and incontestable standard or measure of knowledge, but also to be a means of judging the theoretical and practical abilities of the candidates.

It was further discovered that it was a gross error to suppose that government examinations were to be the stimulants for university study; in fact, that what was wanted was not means of discouragement, but of encouragement.

The human mind is like a liquid given to fermentation.

Without leaven there cannot be any fermentation; and the latter is promoted by heat, depressed by cold.

What you want in order to stimulate higher education in the higher sense of the word is a staff of competent tutors supplied with ample means for advancing and furthering knowledge in every possible direction; encouragement for all efforts to cultivate sound science, and nothing but the most beneficial results will accrue to society at large.

Universities, at the dawn of their existence, were, as a rule, endowed with certain rights and privileges, like moral corporations;

but these were swept away through the tide of progress having ceased to be adapted to the conditions of modern society.

One right, let us say one duty, only remained vested in the universities, that of conferring degrees on its scholars after the passing of certain examinations;

but the latter were subject, like all other examinations, to this, that they could never give a sufficiently satisfactory guarantee.

Yet, while the defects of these were largely advertised, their advantages were often overlooked, until they were ultimately abolished, or replaced by the examining authority of government commissions.

When at last it was found, after endless experiments, that people had been jumping from the frying-pan into the fire, one gradually began to recognise the truth of the French proverb, that 'Better is the enemy of good,' and one came back to the old system slightly altered and improved.

At the same time additional means were devised to render access to the universities, as seats of learning, more easy to deserving men; the fees were considerably lowered, and distinguished students received henceforth pecuniary assistance and support from those who were morally convinced that in the knowledge which they would acquire they would repay to society at large both capital and interest.

And hence the number of scholars has so increased lately at your universities, that there no longer exists the semblance of necessity for admitting others to the exercise of the learned professions, than those who have enjoyed academical education.

If to this some persons were to reply that such a restriction of the professional cyclus is rather hard upon those who have acquired their knowledge elsewhere, independent of the recognised universities, I would meet them with the counter-remark that the interests of the individual must give way to those of society at large, and that there is an intimate connection between the latter and the continuing prosperity of the universities."

I looked about me to see whether I could discover any more places of my native land.

So far as I could see, the northern and north-eastern districts had almost doubled their population, for the towns looked twice their original size; but what struck me most was that the city of Arnhem looked apparently deserted.

I was the more surprised at this, because I remembered quite well that about the middle of the nineteenth century the place had been rapidly increasing, both in extent and prosperity, owing to the many "old residents" who, having returned with colossal fortunes from India, purposed to pass the remainder of their days in this beautiful neighbourhood.

I must have allowed a suppressed cry of astonishment to escape me on noticing the crippled state of the city; for the "trunculant figure" once more addressed me in the native tongue: "Yes, sir," said he, "you are rightly surprised.

From a large city Arnhem has become a third-rate town.

Such things will happen when children attempt to govern their parents."

I did not exactly see the drift of this common-sense remark until my countryman continued as follows: "I am going to tell you a story."

Loss of Dutch Colonies.

"Once upon a time a gentleman had a beautiful bird, and the beauty of this beautiful bird was this, that he laid every year a golden egg.

Naturally enough, the man was very much afraid that this bird should escape, or perhaps be stolen from him.

He therefore first cut its wings, and then put it into a solid cage.

When the children of that gentleman grew up, they gradually became of opinion that the bird had not been properly treated by their father.

One thought that some portion of the golden egg ought to be used in ornaments on the cage of the bird.

Another hinted that not only should the cage be embellished, but also enlarged; the bird would then enjoy more liberty, and might perhaps lay two golden eggs in a twelve-month, 'in which case,' whispered he, 'I myself might come in for a little windfall.'

The third son went another step further; he would like to see the cage not only enlarged and gilded, but completely renewed as well; it ought to have much thinner bars to allow the bird more light and more air; this was its natural birth-right; for no bird was ever created to drag along its dreary existence in the dark.

Finally, the fourth of the sons went so far as to say that it was 'a burning shame' to have cut the bird's wings.

That was simply misusing the right of the stronger, and showed great want of foresight in him that had entrusted his 'governor' with the bird.

"The old gentleman was not a little embarrassed.

He was not blind to the danger of all these juvenile counsels, but he was an indulgent parent, and never turned a deaf ear upon his children.

First then the cage was gilded, then enlarged, and ultimately replaced by another, brand new, and as light as light could be.

Meanwhile the bird's wings had been daily growing, and the animal at last managed to do that which every other bird would have done in its place.

It escaped through the thin bars, and flew away."

"I fully understand; the bird's name was Java?"

[16] "Exactly so," replied the "trunculant figure."

"But what became ultimately of the bird?"

I inquired.

"Ah, sir!

it was after all a silly thing for the bird to fly away;

it was not so badly off in its master's house; but birds will be birds.

It had not flown far yet when it was attacked by two enormous birds of prey; they pulled it right and left with their sharp talons, and thereby injured one another severely.

Of course the weaker bird lost a good deal of its plumage, and was bandied from the talons of one vulture into those of the other.

At last the two monsters dropped their prey on the ground in piteous condition, whilst they pursued the combat between them with their own weapons, until both were so crippled and exhausted that there could have been no question on either side of looking after the weaker bird."

"If then I rightly understand your metaphor, France and England have both been compelled to let the island slip, and the Javanese are a free people by this time."

"Oh, free, of course; so is the dormouse," answered the Dutchman.

I suggested that his former remarks appeared to me to be more liberal.

"Those concerned the land, but not the people."

"Well?"

"The Javanese will never change their skin.

Those of the present day are simply a few grades lazier than their progenitors.

Since the last great war Java has been declared a neutral territory; all nationalities have equal rights to trade on it, and what do you think has been the result?

That of the few hundred-weights of coffee and sugar which the island continues to produce, scarcely anything finds its way to our own market; most of it goes to Marseilles and other parts of the Mediterranean."

At this point Bacon interrupted our conservative friend, and spoke as follows: "I am no trader, sir; but unless I am improperly informed, the Javanese people feel much happier now than when they were under the rule of the East Indian Company or the Culture System.

It appears to me that possessions which are not colonies proper impose peculiar obligations on the temporary possessor, and that the latter is hardly justified in dealing with the inhabitants as the leech does with the patient.

Wherever a superior race holds sway over an inferior one, it is the duty of the former to raise its inferiors to any such state of culture as they may prove themselves susceptible of.

From the nature of things, such rule is always temporary, as history has often taught us.

The time must come when the bonds will be rent asunder;

but they will hold so much longer together, and be so much more easily dissolved, as the government has less borne the character of oppression.

A moral ascendancy is on the whole the most powerful, and that maintains itself best by fair and just treatment of the weaker by the stronger.

I for one feel perfectly convinced that the only reason why your country has even kept the island as long as it has, was exclusively owing to the few necessary reforms which your government consented to make in the nineteenth century.

But for those concessions, Java would have been lost to you long before; and with regard to the shifting of the market, don't you think yourself, sir, that that was chiefly brought about by the Suez Canal?"

"Perhaps so," replied the Hollander, not very good-naturedly;

"I won't argue the point with you; you are an Englishman, and you fellows think that you know everything better than we do; this, however, I maintain, that if this kind of thing is to continue, we shall go down as fast as we can."

I silently rejoiced to think that my telescopical observations had more than convinced me of this, that my countrymen had by no means so visibly yet come down, and I was inclined to conclude from this consoling fact that they had known in time how to apply the old Dutch proverb: "When the tide turns, turn your beacons."

However, I did not venture to set my thoughts to words, for I should certainly have given offence to the "trunculant figure," whose solitary line of conduct apparently went along his own individual interests, and whose knowledge of political economy and of the rights of man was evidently at a very low ebb.

Railway Nets.

During this somewhat prolonged conversation we had slightly deviated from our former course.

We now moved along in south-easterly direction, and the native towns gradually disappeared from my sight.

Looking towards the east, I observed a small black speck which obviously moved with great rapidity along the surface of the earth, and seemed to advance nearer and nearer to us.

It became larger and larger as it approached our conveyance, under which it finally glided away.

I

had just had sufficient time to recognise an immense train of huge waggons in the fleeting meteor below us.

"From where," asked I, "did this train start?"

Bacon consulted his railway guide.

"That's the morning train," replied he, "which left Pekin the day before yesterday, and runs along the great central-east-west-line."

"From Pekin?

Right across or over the high mountains of Central Asia and Ural?"

"Oh, my friend, such obstacles have ceased to exist in the twenty-first century.

Surely you yourself remember the piercing of Mount Cenis?

You will soon observe that what was done in your time between France and Italy has since been accomplished between Italy and Switzerland."

There could be no doubt in the matter; for the white-coated tops of the Alps already appeared at the horizon.

The mountains themselves had not been affected by the hand of time or civilization, but the route went no longer across the Splügen, the Simplon, or the Saint Bernard, but underneath the mountain range, so that the same trains which we saw enter the tunnels on the Swiss side, made their appearance very shortly afterwards on the Italian side, and proceeded in their course through the plains of the valley of the Po.