CHAPTER III.

Life hath its May, and all is mirthful then;

The woods are vocal, and the flowers all odour:

Its very blast hath mirth in't.

SHAKSPEARE.

I WOULD fain dwell awhile on the recollections of my boyhood; that period of life, generally so rife with present and anticipated enjoyments-when the buoyant spirits keep time to the bounding current of the young blood, as yet neither impeded nor slackened in its coursings; when vigorous health induces vigorous effort, and mind and body act simultaneously, and are in perfect unison. The unthinking joy of boyhood! can it be ever again tasted in any after-portion of life? can it ever be again enjoyed in the coming years, which bring a conscious experience of the knowledge of good and evil? for, in their advance, is not their glory dimmed by the shadows of futurity! The gossamer delights of childhood, fly they not away before

time's foot-fall, light and gladsome though it be, in his early prime and freshness?

Well do I remember the keen and exquisite sense of delight I experienced, when young master Ormsby would allow me-in default of better company-to accompany him in his rides, on one of his beautiful ponies: how we bounded and raced over the wild, and in many parts, picturesque country, like children of the wind-sometimes attaining a bold headland that overlooked old ocean in his majesty, sometimes scampering over the strand at its base. On these occasions, almost delirious with delight, and forgetting the difference in our stations, I would pour out my pleasure and gratification in such energetic terms, that amused and astonished, my less impetuous companion. I remember, on one of these excursions, which were not very frequent-therefore the more prized and enjoyed-I said to him, "O master Frederick, how I do wish I was your brother!" "A modest wish," replied he, half in joke, "but pray why do you not at once wish you were myself? for, don't you know, if there were two of us, I could not then have two ponies, or perhaps a boat, nor half as many things

as I now have?" "I did not think of that," said I, "but I should be quite contented with half of every thing you have, and think I should enjoy them twice as much as you do.” "Not when you became as used to them, as I am, perhaps," continued he"though if you did feel ever so much delight, and were a young gentleman, you must not talk about it so much, and so loudly; they tell me it is vulgar to do so." "I am sure," answered I, somewhat piqued "that my mother knows very well what is really vulgar, and she never yet told me, I did wrong in expressing my pleasure freely at any thing." "Oh," said he, "it is very well for you to do so-what I said only related to gentlemen!"

I went home that day, greatly wondering at this exposition of vulgarity, and delighted that I could pour out..to my dear mother my own swelling emotions of gratification and delight. She smiled when I related to her our recent conversation; only gently remarking, that it was quite proper for me to speak as I felt and thought.

But, in general, even boys have their troubles : the schoolmaster and his requirements usually deduct a good portion of their happiness; but it

was not so in my case, for I never went to school, except to learn a little more arithmetic than my mother could teach me: all else I knew, was from her gentle instruction. She taught me some elementary knowledge of grammar and geography, and cultivated a taste for reading and poetry; beyond this, she attempted not-and this slender lore was, at that period, and for persons in our stations, thought extraordinary; indeed, when I reflect on the few opportunities and facilities my mother ever possessed for acquiring even what she did know, I am the more convinced of the unusual vigour of her mind, and its capabilities, had her position been more favourable.

But often, as I grew older, would misgivings arise in my mind as to my future destination. My tender parent sympathized with me, in my distaste to a life of entire bodily toil. I felt altogether unfitted, as well as disinclined, to pursue the perilous occupation which my father and forefathers had done before me. I could not bear the idea, either of having constantly to associate with the coarse uncouth miners, for so they then were, who would be my daily companions. The way my mother

had reared me, the superior refinement of her mind and manners to the persons around us, the occasional contact, as I have noticed, with those superior to me in station-these causes had combined to render the duties of my lowly lot altogether unpalatable. And here I cannot help noticing the very equivocal advantage education is to the lower classes, as I deduce from my own experience; I mean a larger measure of intellectual culture than is included in being taught to read and write. For, does not more than this, tend to make them discontented, and therefore unhappy? does it not create a craving for artificial wants and refinements, such as can only be obtained by a richer class of society? the evils, as it appears to me, are more numerous than the advantages, unless, indeed, moral and spiritual culture keep pace with intellectual.

It is true, I was far from being, in the proper sense of the term, educated-but the cultivation of my mind had been encouraged -my reasoning powers had as far as possible been developed, and the imaginative faculty had been brought into exercise, by the taste my mother sought to excite in