way, and was very careful in his
observance of all the forms of law and tradition, he was a tyrant at
heart. He ruled with an iron will, and willingly suffered no one in the
school-room to hold an opinion different from his own. He was not
popular in the Josephine; he had never been a popular teacher anywhere,
though he had been a successful one, so far as intellectual results were
concerned. His success seemed to justify him, and certainly it added to
the strength of his tyrannical will.
The good schoolmaster recognizes and respects the rights of the scholar.
While he is an unflinching disciplinarian, expecting an unquestioning
obedience, he does not believe in his own infallibility. He is kind and
considerate, and regards his pupil as an embryo man, "endowed with
certain inalienable rights," which none may trample upon with impunity.
He is both just and merciful, his heart being filled with love to God
and love to man.
Such was not Mr. Hamblin. The greatest sin of a student was to have a
will of his own. He had not the power or the inclination to harmonize
that will with the requirements of duty, and he broke it down, not by
coarse abuse, but by making the pupil so uncomfortable that a total
submission was better than a reasonable independence. In mild-tempered
boys, like Paul Kendall, the task was an easy one, when no principle was
at stake.
The professor walked up and down the deck, brooding over his grievances.
He could not afford to abandon his situation on the one hand, and it
seemed impossible to acknowledge that he was wholly wrong on the other
hand. When he had thoroughly cooled off, he was willing to own that it
was necessary for the captain to go on deck, and that if he had
comprehended the situation he should have given him permission to do so.
But he knew nothing about the management of a vessel. How should a
professor of Greek and Latin be expected to understand a matter which
even the most ignorant could comprehend, and of which even a boy of
sixteen had made himself master? Boys could play base-ball, but he did
not know how; and it seemed just as much beneath his dignity to be
familiar with practical navigation.
He was sorry now that he had not given Captain Kendall permission to go
on deck; for it was impossible to refute the arguments of the principal;
but at the same time he had not overstepped the duties of his office. He
had been informed that all the students, even to the captain, were
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