not of myself,
but by the judgment of those from whom few wise men will gladly dissent;
that if ever the nature of man be given at any time, more than other, to
receive goodness, it is in innocency of young years, before that
experience of evil have taken root in him. For the pure clean wit of a
sweet young babe is like the newest wax, most able to receive the best
and fairest printing; and like a new bright silver dish never occupied,
to receive and keep clean any good thing that is put into it.
And thus, will in children, wisely wrought withal, may easily be won to
be very well willing to learn. And wit in children, by nature, namely
memory, the only key and keeper of all learning, is readiest to receive
and surest to keep any manner of thing that is learned in youth. This,
lewd and learned, by common experience, know to be most true. For we
remember nothing so well when we be old as those things which we learned
when we were young. And this is not strange, but common in all nature's
works. "Every man seeth (as I said before) new wax is best for
printing, new clay fittest for working, new-shorn wool aptest for soon
and surest dyeing, new fresh flesh for good and durable salting." And
this similitude is not rude, nor borrowed of the larder-house, but out
of his school-house, of whom the wisest of England need not be ashamed
to learn. "Young grafts grow not only soonest, but also fairest, and
bring always forth the best and sweetest fruit; young whelps learn
easily to carry; young popin-jays learn quickly to speak." And so, to be
short, if in all other things, though they lack reason, sense, and life,
the similitude of youth is fittest to all goodness, surely nature in
mankind is most beneficial and effectual in their behalf.
Therefore, if to the goodness of nature be joined the wisdom of the
teacher, in leading young wits into a right and plain way of learning;
surely children kept up in God's fear, and governed by His grace, may
most easily be brought well to serve God and their country, both by
virtue and wisdom.
But if will and wit, by farther age, be once allured from innocency,
delighted in vain sights, filled with foul talk, crooked with
wilfulness, hardened with stubbornness, and let loose to disobedience;
surely it is hard with gentleness, but impossible with severe cruelty,
to call them back to good frame again. For where the one perchance may
bend it, the other shall surely break it: and so, instead of s
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