these only is before us. The direction of youth seems one of the
greatest concerns in moral life, and one that is the least understood:
to form the generation to come, is of the last importance. If an
ingenious master hath flogged the a b c into an innocent child, he
thinks himself worthy of praise. A lad is too much terrified to march
that path, which is marked out by the rod. If the way to learning
abounds with punishment, he will quickly detest it; if we make his duty
a task, we lay a stumbling-block before him that he cannot surmount.

We rarely know a tutor succeed in training up youth, who is a friend to
harsh treatment.

Whence is it, that we so seldom find affection subsisting between master
and scholar? From the moment they unite, to the end of their lives,
disgust, like a cloud, rises in the mind, which reason herself can
never dispel.

The boy may pass the precincts of childhood, and tread the stage of life
upon an equality with every man in it, except his old school-master; the
dread of him seldom wears off; the name of Busby founded with horror for
half a century after he had laid down the rod. I have often been
delighted when I have seen a school of boys break up; the joy that
diffuses itself over every face and action, shews infant nature in her
gayest form--the only care remaining is, to forget on one side of the
walls what was taught on the other.

One would think, if _coming out_ gives so much satisfaction, there must
be something very detestable _within_.

If the master thinks he has performed his task when he has taught the