Imatges de pàgina

metal would by affinity assist the influential virtues of the moonlight, which finding no such affinity in a mixed metal of baser compounds, might contrari. wise have its potential qualities weakened, or even destroyed, when received in a brazen vessel, and reflected from it. Flossofer Daniel assented to this theory. Nevertheless, as the child got rid of his troublesome excrescences in the course of three or four months, all parties, disregarding the lapse of time at first, and afterwards fairly forgetting it, agreed that the remedy had been effectual, and Sir Kenelm, if he had been living, might have procured the solemn attestation of men more yeracious than himself that moonshine was an infallible cure for warts.


Though happily thou wilt say that wands be to be wrought when they are green, lest they rather break than bend when they be dry, yet know also that he that bendeth a twig because he would see if it would bow by strength, may chance to have a crooked tree when he would have a straight.-EUPHUES.

From this time the two flossofers were friends. Daniel seldom went to Ingleton without looking in upon Guy, if it were between school hours. Guy on his part would walk as far with him on the way back as the tether of his own time allowed, and frequently on Saturdays and Sundays he strolled out and took a seat by Daniel's fireside. Even the wearying occupation of hearing one generation of urchins after another repeat a-b-ab, hammering the first rules of arithmetic into leaden heads, and pacing like a horse in a mill the same dall dragging round day after day, had neither diminished Guy's good nature, nor lessened his love for children. He had from the first conceived a liking for young Daniel, both because of the right principle which was evinced by the manner in which he proposed the question concerning stealing the beans, and of the profound gravity (worthy of a flossofer's son) with which he behaved in the affair of the moonshine. All that he saw and heard of him tended to confirm this favorable prepossession; and the boy, who had been taught to read in the Bible and in Stowe's Chronicle, was committed to his tuition at seven years

of age.

Five days in the week (for in the North of England Saturday as well as Sun. day is a sabbath to the schoolmaster) did young Daniel, after supping his porringer of oatmeal pottage, set off to school, with a little basket containing his dinner in his hand. This provision usually consisted of oatcake and cheese, the latter in goodly proportion, but of the most frugal quality, whatever cream the milk afforded ng been consigned to the butter tub. Sometimes it was a piece of cold bacon or cold pork; and in winter there was the luxury of a shred pie, which is a coarse north country edition of the pie abhorred by Puritans. The distance was in those days called two miles; but miles of such long measure that they were for him a good hour's walk at a cheerful pace. He never loitered on the way, being at all times brisk in his movements, and going to school with a spirit as light as when he returned from it, like one whose blessed lot it was never to have experienced, and therefore never to stand in fear of severity or unkindness. For he was not more a favorite with Guy for his docility, and regularity, and diligence, than he was with his schoolfellows for his thorough good nature and a certain original oddity of humor.

There are some boys who take as much pleasure in exercising their intellectual faculties, as others do when putting forth the power of arms and legs in boisterous exertion. Young Daniel was from his childhood fond of books. William Dove use to say he was a chip of the old block; and this hereditary disposition was regarded with much satisfaction by both parents, Dinah having no higher ambition nor better wish for her son, than that he might prove like his father in all things. This being the bent of his nature, the boy baving a kind master as well as a happy home, never tasted of what old Lily calls (and well might call) the wearisome bitterness of the scholar's learning. He was never subject to the brutal discipline of the Udals, and Busby's, and Bowyers, and Parrs, and other less notorious tyrants who have trodden in their steps ; nor was any of that inhuman injustice ever exercised upon him to break his spirit, for which it is to be hoped Dean Colet has paid in purgatory: to be hoped, I say, because if there be no purgatory, the dean may have gone farther and fared worse. Being the only Latiner in the school, his lessons were heard with more interest and less formality. Guy observed his progress with almost as much delight and as much hope as Daniel himself. A schoolmaster who likes his vocation feels towards the boys who deserve his favor something like a thrifty and thriving father towards the children for whom he is scraping together wealth; he is contented that his humble and patient industry should produce fruit, not for himself, but for them, and looks with pride to a result in which it is impossible for him to partake, and which in all likelihood he may never live to see. Even some of the old phlebotomists have had this feeling to redeem them.

EXCEPTIONS TO ONE OF KING SOLOMON'S RULES. " Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old he will not depart from it." Generally speaking, it will be found so; but is there any other rule to which there are so many exceptions ?

Ask the serious Christian, as he calls himself, or the professor, (another and more fitting appellative which the Christian Pharisees bave chosen for them. selves,) ask him whether he has found it hold good. Whether his sons, when they attained to years of discretion, (which are the most indiscreet years in the course of human life,) have profited as he expected by the long extemporaneous prayers to which they listened night and morning, the sad Sabbaths which they were compelled to observe, and the soporific sermons which closed the domestic religiosities of those melancholy days. Ask them if this discipline has prevented them from running headlong into the follies and vices of the agefrom being birdlimed by dissipation-or caught in the spider's web of sophistry and unbelief. "It is no doubt a true observation," says Bishop Patrick, " that the ready way to make the minds of youth grow awry, is to lace them too hard, by denying them their just freedom.”

Ask the old faithful servant of Mammon, whom Mammon has rewarded to his heart's desire, and in whom the acquisition of riches has only increased his eagerness for acquiring more—ask him whether he has succeeded in training up his heir to the same service. He will tell you that the young mau is to be found upon race grounds, and in gaming-houses, that he is taking his swing of extravagance and excess, and is on the high road to ruin.

Ask the wealthy Quaker, the pillar of the meeting-most orthodox in heterodoxy—who never wore a garment of forbidden cut or color, never bent his body in salutation, or his knees in prayer-never uttered the heathen name of a day or month, nor ever addressed himself to any person without religously speaking illegitimate English-ask him how it has happened that the tailor has converted his sons. He will fold his hands, and twirl his thumbs mournfully in silence. It has not been for want of training them in the way wherein it was his wish that they should go.

You are about, sir, to send your son to a public school; Eton or Westminster; Winchester or Harrow; Rugby or the Charterhouse, no matter which. He may come from either an accomplished scholar to the utmost extent that school education can make him so; be may be the better both for its discipline and its want of discipline; it may serve him excellently well as a preparatory school for the world into which he is about to enter. But also he may come away an empty coxcomb or a hardened brute-a spendthrift—a profligatea blackguard or a sot.

To put a boy in the way he should go, is like sending out a ship well found, well manned and stored, and with a careful captain; but there are rocks and shallows in her course, winds and currents to be encountered, and all the contingencies and perils of the sea.

How often has it been seen that sons, not otherwise deficient in duty towards their parents, have, in the most momentous concerns of life, taken the course most opposite to that in which they were trained to go, going wrong where the father would have directed them aright, or taking the right path in spite of all inducements and endeavors for leading them wrong!

No such disappointment was destined to befall our Daniel. The way in which he trained up his son was that into which the bent of the boy's own nature would have led him; and all circumstances combined to favor the tendency of his education. The country abounding in natural objects of sublimity and beauty (some of these singular in their kind) might have impressed a duller imagination than had fallen to his lot; and that imagination had time enough for its workings during his solitary walks to and from school morning and evening. His home was in a lonely spot; and having neither brother nor sister, nor neighbors near enough in any degree to supply their place as playmates, he became his father's companion imperceptibly as he ceased to be his fondling. And the effect was hardly less apparent in Daniel than in the boy. He was no longer the same taciturn person as of yore; it seemed as if his tongue had been loosened, and when the reservoirs of his knowledge were opened they flowed freely.

Their chimney-corner on a winter's evening presented a group not unworthy of Sir Joshua's pencil. There sat Daniel, richer in marvelous stories than ever traveler who in the days of mendacity returned from the East; the peat fire shining upon a countenance which, weather hardened as it was, might have given the painter a model for a patriarch, so rare was the union which it exhibited of intelligence, benevolence, and simplicity. There sat the boy with open eyes and ears, raised head, and fallen lip, in all the happiness of wonder and implicit belief. There sat Dinah, not less proud of her husband's learning than of the towardly disposition and promising talents of her son-twirling the thread at her spinning-wheel, but attending to all that passed; and when there was a pause in the discourse, fetching a deep sigh, and exclaiming "Lord bless is! what wonderful things there are in the world !" There also sat Haggy, knitting stockings, and sharing in the comforts and enjoyments of the family

when the day's work was done. And there sat William Dove[who was born with one of those heads in which the thin partition which divides great wits from folly is wanting. Though all was not there, there was a great deal. Some of his faculties were more acute than ordinary, and his temper had never been soured by ill usage. His memory was retentive of all curious proverbial wisdom and traditional lore, and had he come into the world a century sooner, he would have been taken nolens volens into some baron's household, to wear motley, make sport for the guests and domestics, and live in fear of the rod. But it was his better fortune to live in an age when this calamity rendered him liable to no such oppression, and to be precisely in that station which secured for him all the enjoyments of which he was capable, and all the care he needed. In higher life, he would probably have been consigned to the keeping of strangers who would have taken charge of him for pay; in a humbler degree he must have depended upon the parish for support; or have been made an inmate of one of those moral lazar-houses in which age and infancy, the harlot and the idiot, the profligate and the unfortunate are herded together.

William Dove escaped these aggravations of calamity. He escaped also that persecution to which he would have been exposed in populous places where boys run loose in packs, and harden one another in impudence, mischief, and cruelty. Natural feeling, when natural feeling is not corrupted, leads men to regard persons in his condition with a compassion not unmixed with awe. It is common with the country people when they speak of such persons to point significantly at the head and say, 'Tis not all there : words denoting a sense of the mysteriousness of our nature which perhaps they feel more deeply on this than any other occasion. No outward and visible deformity can make them so truly apprehend how fearfully and wonderfully we are made.

William Dove's was not a case of fatuity. Though all was not there, there was a great deal. He was what is called half saved. Some of his faculties were more acute than ordinary, but the power of self-conduct was entirely wanting in lim. Fortunately, it was supplied by a sense of entire dependance which produced entire docility. A dog does not obey his master more dutifully thau William obeyed his brother; and in this obedience there was nothing of fear; with all the strength and simplicity of a child's love, it had also the char. acter and merit of a moral attachment.

The professed and privileged fool was generally characterized by a spice of knavery, and not unfrequently of maliciousness: the unnatural situation in which he was placed tended to excite such propensities, and even to produce them. William had shrewdness enough for the character, but nothing of this appeared in his disposition; ill usage might perhaps have awakened it, and to a fearful degree, if he had proved as sensible to injury as he was to kindness. But he bad never felt au injury. He could not have been treated with more tenderness in Turkey, (where a degree of holiness is imputed to persons in his condition) than was uniformly shown him within the little sphere of his perambulations. It was surprising how much he had picked up within that little sphere. Whatever event occurred, whatever tale was current, whatever traditions were preserved, whatever superstitions were believed, William knew them all; and all that his insatiable ear took in, his memory hoarded. Half the pro

verbial sayings in Ray's volume were in his head, and as many more with . which Ray was unacquainted. He knew many of the stories which our children are now reading as novelties in the selections from Grimm's Kinder-und Haus Marchen, and as many of those which are collected in the Danish Folk Sagn. And if some zealous lover of legendary lore (like poor Jobn Leyden, or Sir Walter Scott) had fallen in with him, the Shaksperian commentators might perhaps have had the whole story of St. Withold; the Wolf of the World's End might have been identified with Fenris, and found to be a relic of the Scalds: and Rauf Collyer and Johin the Reeve miglit still have been as well known as Adam Bell, and Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudeslie.

Light lie the earth upon the bones of Richard Guy, the schoolmaster of Ingitton! He never consumed birch enough in his vocation to have made a besom; and his ferula was never applied unless when some moral offense called for a chastisement that would be felt. There is a closer connection between good nature and good sense than is commonly supposed. A sour, ill-tempered peda gogue would have driven Daniel through the briars and brambles of the grammar and foundered him in its sloughs; Guy led him gently along the green sward. He felt that childhood should not be made altogether a season of painful acquisition, and that the fruits of the sacrifices then made are uncertain as to the account to which they may be turned, and are also liable to the contingencies of life at least, if not otherwise jeopardized. "Puisque le jour peut lui manquer, laissons le un peu jouir de l'Aurore !" (Lest the day should not be his, let him enjoy the dawn.) The precept which warmth of imagination inspired in Jean Jacques was impressed upon Guy's practice by gentleness of heart. He never crammed the memory of his pupil with such horrific terms as prothesis, apbæresis, epenthesis, syncope, paragoge, and apocope; never questioned him concerning appositio, evocatio, syllepsis, prolepsis, zeugma, synthesis, antiptosis, and synecdoche; never attempted to deter him (as Lily says boys are above all things to be deterred) from those faults which Lily also says, seem almost natural to the English-the heinous faults of iotacism, lambdacism, (which Alcibiades effected,) ischnotesism, trauli'sm, and plateasm. But having grounded him well in the nouns and verbs, and made him understand the concords, he then followed in part the excellent advice of Lily thus given in his address to the reader:

“When these concords be well known unto them, (an easy and pleasant pain if the foregrounds be well and thoroughly beaten in,) let them not continue in learning of the rules orderly, as they lie in their syntax, but rather learn some pretty book, wherein is contained not only the eloquence of the tongue, but also a good plain lesson of honesty and godliness; and thereof take some little sentence as it lieth, and learn to make the same first out of English into Latin, not seeing the book, or construing it thereupon. And if there fall any necessary rule of the syntax to be known, then to learn it, as the occasion of the sentence giveth cause that day; which sentence once made well, and as nigh as may be with the words of the book, then to take the book and construe it; and so shall he be less troubled with the parsing of it, and easiliest carry his lesson in mind."

Guy followed this advice in part, and in part he deviated from it, upon Lily's uwn authority, as "judging that the most sufficient way which he saw to be the readiest mean;" while, therefore, he exercised his pupil in writing Latin pursuant to this plan, he carried him on faster in construing, and promoted the boy's progress by gratifying his desire of getting forward. When he had dono

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