the Federal and State governments to provide the necessary means of
_education_ [See Note 4.] This is granted; but we now have to inquire
into the nature of the education, and the advantages derived from such
education as is received in the United States.

In the first place, what is education? Is teaching a boy to read and
write education? If so, a large proportion of the American community
may be said to be educated; but, if you supply a man with a chest of
tools, does he therefore become a carpenter! You certainly give him the
means of working at the trade, but instead of learning it, he may only
cut his fingers. Reading and writing without the farther assistance
necessary to guide people aright, is nothing more than a chest of tools.

Then, what is education? I consider that education commences before a
child can walk: the first principle of education, the most important,
and without which all subsequent are but as leather and prunella, is the
lesson of _obedience_--of submitting to parental control--"_Honour thy
father and thy mother_!"

Now, any one who has been in the United States must have perceived that
there is little or no parental control. This has been remarked by most
of the writers who have visited the country; indeed to an Englishman it
is a most remarkable feature. How is it possible for a child to be
brought up in the way that it should go, when he is not obedient to the
will of his parents? I have often fallen into a melancholy sort of
musing after witnessing such remarkable specimens of uncontrolled will
in children; and as the father and mother both smiled at it, I have
thought that they little knew what sorrow and vexation were probably in
store for them, in consequence of their own injudicious treatment of
their offspring. Imagine a child of three years old in England behaving
thus:--

"Johnny, my dear, come here," says his mamma.

"I won't," cries Johnny.

"You must, my love, you are all wet, and you'll catch cold."

"I won't," replies Johnny.

"Come, my sweet, and I've something for you."

"I won't."

"Oh! Mr --, do, pray make Johnny come in."

"Come in, Johnny," says the father.

"I won't."

"I tell you, come in directly, sir--do you hear?"

"I won't," replies the urchin taking to his heels.

"A sturdy republican, sir," says his father to me, smiling at the boy's
resolute disobedience.

Be it recollected that I give this as one instance of a thousand which I
witn