year Beethoven was born.

A child has a right to finality as regards its compulsory lessons.
Also as regards physical training. At present it is assumed that the
schoolmaster has a right to force every child into an attempt to become
Porson and Bentley, Leibnitz and Newton, all rolled into one. This is
the tradition of the oldest grammar schools. In our times an even more
horrible and cynical claim has been made for the right to drive boys
through compulsory games in the playing fields until they are too much
exhausted physically to do anything but drop off to sleep. This is
supposed to protect them from vice; but as it also protects them from
poetry, literature, music, meditation and prayer, it may be dismissed
with the obvious remark that if boarding schools are places whose
keepers are driven to such monstrous measures lest more abominable
things should happen, then the sooner boarding schools are violently
abolished the better. It is true that society may make physical claims
on the child as well as mental ones: the child must learn to walk, to
use a knife and fork, to swim, to ride a bicycle, to acquire sufficient
power of self-defence to make an attack on it an arduous and uncertain
enterprise, perhaps to fly. What as a matter of common-sense it clearly
has not a right to do is to make this an excuse for keeping the child
slaving for ten hours at physical exercises on the ground that it is not
yet as dexterous as Cinquevalli and as strong as Sandow.




The Rewards and Risks of Knowledge

In a word, we have no right to insist on educating a child; for its