oolmaster.'

It is related of Dr. Clarke that when he reached the middle of 'As in
praesenti,' in Lilly's Latin Grammar, he came to a dead stop and could
get no further. His fellow-pupils, however, jeered him to such an extent
that he determined to go on and conquer the difficulty. And this
resolution seems to have helped him considerably, as, instead of the
grammar being forced into him, he began to study and think for himself.

Nevertheless, he always found great difficulty in learning anything at
school, but was passionately devoted to reading imaginative books and
stories of adventure, such as 'Jack the Giant-killer,' 'Arabian Nights,'
'The Pilgrim's Progress,' 'Sir Francis Drake,' and a host of similar
works. To these, in fact, and not to his painfully acquired school
education, he was wont to attribute the formation of his literary taste.

Disraeli's education was by no means thorough. There is no record of his
having distinguished himself academically in the slightest degree. It is
related of him, on the contrary, that he was such a duffer at classics
as to be incapable of grasping the rule that 'ut' should be followed by
the subjunctive mood. The following account of Disraeli's schooldays,
given by one of his school-fellows, is quoted by Sir William Fraser:

'I cannot say that Benjamin Disraeli at this period of his life
exhibited any unusual zeal for classical studies; and I doubt whether
his attainments in this direction, when he left the school for Mr.
Cogan's at Walthamstow, reached higher than the usual grind in Livy and
Caesar. But I well remember that he was the compiler and editor of a
school newspaper, which made its appearance on Saturdays, when the
gingerbread-seller was also to be seen, and that the right of perusal
was estimated at the cost of a sheet of gingerbread, the money value of
which was in those days the third of a penny.'

Turning to literary men, we find an imposing array of dunces. I have not
had time to examine into the school experiences of more than a limited
number of great names. If the reader is anxious to pursue the
investigation further, he will doubtless find that there is scarcely a
famous man of letters who made his mark at school or university.

The first person to teach Oliver Goldsmith his letters was a woman, who
afterwards became village schoolmistress, named Elizabeth Delap. She did
not form a very flattering opinion of her young pupil. 'Never was so
dull a boy,' sh