One of the reasons of the latter phenomenon consists in the
torpedo effect of what we may call, under the circumstances, the
difference of ranks. The schoolmaster is a despot to his
scholar; for every man is a despot, who delivers his judgment
from the single impulse of his own will. The boy answers his
questioner, as Dolon answers Ulysses in the Iliad, at the point
of the sword. It is to a certain degree the same thing, when the
boy is questioned merely by his senior. He fears he knows not
what,--a reprimand, a look of lofty contempt, a gesture of
summary disdain. He does not think it worth his while under
these circumstances, to "gird up the loins of his mind." He
cannot return a free and intrepid answer but to the person whom
he regards as his equal. There is nothing that has so
disqualifying an effect upon him who is to answer, as the
consideration that he who questions is universally acknowledged
to be a being of a higher sphere, or, as between the boy and the
man, that he is the superior in conventional and corporal
strength.

Nor is it simple terror that restrains the boy from answering his
senior with the same freedom and spirit, as he would answer his
equal. He does not think it worth his while to enter the lists.
He despairs of doing the thing in the way that shall gain
approbation, and therefore will not try. He is like a boxer,
who, though skilful, will not fight with one hand tied behind
him. He would return you the answer, if it occurred without his
giving himself trouble; but he will not rouse his soul, and task
his strength to give it. He is careless; and prefers trusting to
whatever construction you may put upon him, and whatever