the foster-parent of the child, and that all
successful teaching must be born of love.

The well-upholstered conservatives twiddled their thumbs, coughed, and
asked: "How about the doctrine of total depravity? Do you mean to say
that the child should not be disciplined? What does Solomon say about
the use of the rod? Does the Bible say that the child is good by
nature?"

But Thomas Arnold could not explain all he knew. Moreover, he did not
wish to fight the Church--he believed in the Church--to him it was a
divine institution. But there were methods and practises in the Church
that he would have liked to forget.

"My sympathies go out to inferiority," he said. The weakling often
needed encouragement, not discipline. The bad boy must be won, not
suppressed.

In one of these conferences of clergymen, Arnold said:

"I once chided a pupil, a little, pale, stupid boy--undersized and
seemingly half-sick--for not being able to recite his very simple
lesson. He looked up at me and said with a touch of spirit: 'Sir, why do
you get angry with me? Do you not know I am doing the best I can?'"

One of the clergymen present asked Arnold how he punished the boy for
his impudence.

And Arnold replied: "I did not punish him--he had properly punished me.
I begged his pardon."

The idea of a teacher begging the pardon of a pupil was a brand-new
thing.

Several clergymen present laughed--one scowled--two sneezed. But a
Bishop, shortly after this, urged the name of Thomas Arnold as master of
Rugby, and added to his recommendation this line: "If elected to the
office he will change the methods of schoolteaching in every public
school in England."

The ayes had it, and Arnold was called to Rugby. The salary was so-so,
the pupils between two and three hundred in number--many were home on
sick-leave--the Sixth Form was in charge.

The genius of Arnold was made manifest, almost as soon as he went to
Rugby, by the way in which he managed the boys who bullied the whole
school, and what is worse, did it legally.

Fagging was official.

The Sixth Form was composed of thirty boys who stood at the top, and
these boys ran the school. They were boys who, by reason of their size,
strength, aggressiveness and mental ability, got the markings that gave
them this autocratic power. They were now immune from authority--they
were free. In a year they would gravitate to the University.

We can hardly understand now how a bully could get mar