behalf of her favourite poets: she had purchased the works of some of these, from a travelling bookvender who occasionally came to our neighbourhood. Early did I begin to con over the sublimities of Milton-the awe-inspiring solemnities of Young -the flowing numbers of Pope-the beautiful devotion of George Herbert-and the quaint fancifulness of Quarles. On this mental food was my young spirit fed, for I not only read the poetry, but so dwelt and lived on it, that it became in great degree a part and parcel of my mind. Many parts of Milton, especially, seemed inexhaustible stores of intellectual wealth and enjoyment. I would often wander away, in these happy days of boyhood, book in hand, to the wildest and most solitary strand of that wild coast, on a fine summer-day, and there revel in such unalloyed happiness, in such pure enjoyment, that none other than young dreamers like myself can comprehend, ere all of heaven is chased away by the mists or the miseries of coming time.-Can any of the lore of age-of the pride of manhood-of the gratification of ambition or passion-can any, or all of these, compensate for the lost bliss and freshness of life's early morning?

CHAPTER IV.

Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe,
Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart,

Our eyes see all around in gloom or glow,

Hues of their own, fresh borrow'd from the heart.
KEBLE'S Christian Year.

My life was one scene of almost unclouded sunshine until about my fourteenth year. Then the clouds began to lower; another, and far different scene, was about to open in life's fitful drama-more dreary did it seem in proportion to the brightness of the commencement.

At this period my father peremptorily announced that I must begin to do something for myself: his health, he said, he found to be failing from his arduous and trying employment, and that now I must try to assist him in getting our daily bread.

My mother had fondly hoped that with the savings of some years, which by her providence she had

C

hoarded, I might have been apprenticed to some trade that would have been in every respect superior to a life of labour in the mines; this she urged on my father's acquiescence: but for once her influence seemed to fail; he was deaf to her entreaties. "I have listened too long already," said he in reply to her earnest remonstrance, "to your foolish fondness for that boy—I have given up more than I ought to have done, in not putting him to work before now; I will not part with my hard earnings, to apprentice him to a business, that probably he would not like, or attend to; I have never heard him give even a preference for one: you have spoiled him for every thing by your tender rearing and book-learning-one would think you had forgotten he is a poor man's son, and has no right to expect to be better off than his forefathers were."

My poor mother was distressed and surprised at the tone of unusual harshness with which he spoke : seeing her distress, he added in a softened tone-but I do not pretend to give the Cornish idiom in which he spoke-You know I love the boy, as well as a parent need love a child, but I do not see any

reason why you should fancy he is above the honest labour I have pursued—you know we could not give him learning enough (at which you say he is so clever) to do him any good-the small share he has of it, in my opinion does him a great deal of harm, it disinclines him from industry or labour: however, work he must, if he would eat."

I heard this, to me, strange conversation, hitherto in silence. Afterward I had reason to believe my father was induced to speak as he did, from some influence being exerted, that was hostile to my mother: she, like many other persons who do not resemble those around them, was disliked because she was not understood. As soon as I could find voice from my chafing spirit, I said, “Father, you need not insist on my obeying you: I am willing to exert myself to the utmost of my power; get me a place to-morrow, and see if any of the ignorant clowns who have not been blest with such a mother as mine, can outdo me in manly exertion: I do not wish to live any longer a burden on you-for so I now see you consider me-I did hope certainly for a better lot, for an employment more suited to my strength and inclinations; and I now tell you

nonestly, that, if it be ever in my power to better myself, I will do so, but for the present I submit to your will." My father did not seem displeased with my reply he had expected effeminate weeping and remonstrance-the petulance of my speech was therefore overlooked, through its tone of spirit and resolution. ""Tis well," he said, "you have determined like a man-but do not suppose I wish your strength to be over-tasked; at first you begin with the lightest kind of work."

Thus ended our conversation.

I got away as soon as possible to one of my solitary haunts; there, where I had been wont to indulge in youth's first delicious day-dreams-in gazing on this earth's loveliness, and deeming it almost a heaven-in taking pleasure in every, the minutest form of beauty-in drinking in rapture from the more magnificent scenes of nature-communing with old ocean in his majesty—and sympathizing in his power, grandeur, and profundity; there, where so much intense enjoyment had been mine, did I go to mourn over my unhappy destiny, to lament that henceforward there would be so little time or opportunity for reverie-that enchanted