and his curate, a scholar of six feet two inches in height, and a
schoolmaster from the next parish, were judges. I will only touch upon
two circumstances in their conduct, which evinced a close, instinctive
knowledge of human nature in the combatants. The master would not
condescend to argue off his throne--a piece of policy to which, in my
opinion, he owed his victory (for he won); whereas the pupil insisted
that he should meet him on equal ground, face to face, in the lower end
of the room. It was evident that the latter could not divest himself
of his boyish terror so long as the other sat, as it were, in the
plentitude of his former authority, contracting his brows with habitual
sternness, thundering out his arguments, with a most menacing and
stentorian voice, while he thumped his desk with his shut fist, or
struck it with his great ruler at the end of each argument, in a manner
that made the youngster put his hands behind him several times, to be
certain that that portion of his dress which is unmentionable was tight
upon him. If in these encounters the young candidate for the honors of
the literary sceptre was not victorious, he again resumed his studies,
under his old preceptor, with renewed vigor and becoming humility; but
if he put the schoolmaster down, his next object was to seek out some
other teacher, whose celebrity was unclouded within his own range. With
him he had a fresh encounter, and its result was similar to what I have
already related.

If victorious, he sought out another and more learned opponent; and
if defeated, he became the pupil of his conqueror--going night about,
during his sojourn at the school, with the neighboring farmers' sons,
whom he assisted in their studies, as a compensation for his support.
He was called during these peregrinations, the Poor Scholar, a character
which secured him the esteem and hospitable attention of the peasantry,
who never fail in respect to any one characterized by a zeal for