There seems to be three clases of people, who demand the care of society; infancy, old age, and casual infirmity.  When a man cannot assist himself, it is necessary he should be assisted.  The first of 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 boy a few words, he as much mistakes his duty, as he does the road to learning:  this is only the first stage of his journey.  He has the man to form for society with ten thousand sentiments.

It is curious to enter one of these prisons of science, and observe the children not under the least government:  the master without authority, the children without order; the master scolding, the children riotous.  We never harden the wax to receive the impression.  They act in a natural sphere, but he in opposition:  he seems the only person in the school who merits correction; he, unfit to teach, is making them unfit to be taught.

A man does not consider whether his talents are adapted for teaching, so much, as whether he can profit by teaching:  thus, when a man hath taught for twenty years, he may be only fit to go to school.

To that vast group of instructors, therefore, whether in, or out of petticoats, who teach, without having been taught; who mistake the tail for the feat of learning, instead of the head; who can neither direct the passions of others nor their own; it may be said, “Quit the trade, if bread can be procured out of it.  It is useless to pursue a work of error:  the ingenious architect must take up your rotten foundation, before he can lay one that is solid.”