formation of his liability and his residence, and he was torn from home and friends and forced aboard a man-of-war. Combe says:
One day as he was walking along the road with one of his father's workmen they met a tall man, in Highland costume, with a huge cap and plumes, and a fearful-looking iron-hilted sword, who asked the workman, "Is this your son?" "No," said the man. "Is he a good boy?" "Yes, he behaves very well," said the man. "I am glad of it," said the soldier, laying his hand on his sword, "for it is my duty to cut off the heads of all naughty children." Combe says, "I believed every word of this assurance and for months dared not venture into the street without keeping an anxious watch for this sergeant who had filled me with unutterable horror."
These incidents may seem trivial, but they formed the staple of his practical education. He says that "great drifts of suffering were driven through the tenor of my life by the absence of consistent principle in the actions and teaching of all by whom I was surrounded." And it was the vivid recollection of this unhappiness which determined his career as a reformer.
At the age of nine he entered the High School of Edinburgh, where he staid four years. There were about one hundred boys in his class, and the learning was mere memorizing. The teacher, Mr. Fraser, every afternoon gave out lessons (Latin) to be learned for the next day. In the morning he began at the head of the class and heard each scholar repeat the portion of grammar he had learned by heart. Next came translation. The sons of rich parents had tutors, of evenings, who taught them, but Mr. Fraser taught nothing. These boys were at the head of the class, and with them the lessons went on smoothly; but, when the incapables were reached, "beating took the place of teaching." By standing from twenty-five to forty-five from the head of the class young Combe learned his lesson by hearing those above him read it, and in this way escaped beating, except when the teacher was disturbed by a noise; then, says Combe—
He held us all bound for each other's transgressions, and let loose upon us a perfect storm of lashes, and never ceased till he was fairly out of breath.
The discipline waxed severer as time passed on, and in the third year it reached its acme. In the spring of that year Mr. Fraser "stripped and whipped," to use his own expression, the boys at a great rate. I recollect one day seeing fifteen boys standing at a time in the middle of the floor with their breeches stripped down, and be taking hold now of one and now of another, threatening to commence the "whipping." These inflictions were uniformly accompanied by a phraseology in ntter contrast to their real chaacter. When he called on a boy