The Trial, p. [172].
EVENING XIV.
THE BOY WITHOUT A GENIUS.
Mr. Wiseman, the schoolmaster, at the end of the summer-vacation, received a new scholar with the following letter:—
“Sir:—This will be delivered to you by my son Samuel, whom I beg leave to commit to your care, hoping that, by your well-known skill and attention, you will be able to make something of him, which, I am sorry to say, none of his masters have hitherto done. He is now eleven, and yet can do nothing but read his mother-tongue, and that but indifferently. We sent him, at seven, to a grammar-school in our neighbourhood; but his master soon found that his genius was not turned to learning languages. He was then put to writing, but he set about it so awkwardly that he made nothing of it. He was tried at accounts, but it appeared that he had no genius for that either. He could do nothing in geography for want of memory. In short, if he has any genius at all, it does not yet show itself. But I trust to your experience in cases of this nature, to discover what he is fit for, and to instruct him accordingly. I beg to be favoured shortly with your opinion about him, and remain, sir,
“Your most obedient servant,
“Humphrey Acres.”
When Mr. Wiseman had read this letter, he shook his head, and said to his assistant:—“A pretty subject they have sent us here! a lad that has a great genius for nothing at all. But perhaps my friend Mr. Acres expects that a boy should show a genius for a thing before he knows anything about it—no uncommon error! Let us see, however, what the youth looks like. I suppose he is a human creature, at least.”
Master Samuel Acres was now called in. He came hanging down his head, and looking as if he was going to be flogged.
“Come hither, my dear!” said Mr. Wiseman, “stand by me, and do not be afraid. Nobody will hurt you. How old are you?”
“Eleven, last May, sir.”