bility or the odium of injustice. Yet there are some whose system of ethics is so delicate as wholly to discard the principle of emulation. Of this class was my friend the Rev. Mr. Gallaudet, the accomplished principal of the Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb. Ever was he saying to me: "I dissent from your theory. You know what Book classes 'emulation' with 'wrath, strifes, seditions,' and other still more wicked works."
"Yet does not the same Sacred Volume appeal to our hope as well as our fear?—as those who run in a race for the 'prize of their high calling.'
"I am sure you ought to agree with me, that a right education should teach to do right from the love of goodness, and not the lucre of gain."
Our arguments, sometimes "long drawn out," usually ended in my confession of inability to manage a school without the aid of this powerful principle. I was sure that the expectation of a meed fairly earned, which would impart happiness to parents and friends, gave strength to their young hearts to overcome indolence and press on in the path of habitual duty. I felt that their guard from the dangers of competition was in the truth and warmth of their own friendships. This was cultivated with such success, that the jealousy and envy against which we were forewarned, gained no entrance into their charmed circle. There were occasions when the claims of aspirants so closely approximated as to make the difference scarcely perceptible.
