of his Roman army, I remember his bursting forth in the most rapturous terms of praise. I think I hear him now, when he opened the first page of the Æneid, and commenced reading

Arma virumque cano

his words had efficacy, and with me it was like patting a bull-dog for a deadly conflict.

It came to the knowledge of our wealthy neighbour, Gascoyne, the yeoman, that my father was going to take a private tutor into his house, and as his son had had a good grammar-school education with a view to train him up for the church, and we were of a similar age, he suggested to my father that it would be a mutual advantage if the tutor had two pupils instead of one, and that as the two youths had become acquainted, it would be more agreeable for a learner to have a companion than to study alone. The sharing of the expense was a powerful consideration with my father, and the pleasure of companionship was no less so to myself.

Dick Gascoyne was, in many respects, a boy very much after my own heart. His mind was not indeed intent on the same ultimate object; but it did not require much to bias it against the sacred office. He thought that he should like more liberty than that would allow, and though he was much

delighted with the prospects of a preparatory college life, the restraints which custom imposed upon the clergy did not sit easy upon him by anticipation. His principles were, however, good; for his parents had taken much care to imbue his mind with reverence for his Creator, and love to his fellow-creatures. He had one of the kindest of hearts, and his disposition accorded well with his principles. Necessity made us companions, but there was a great difference between us. He was indeed, lively as myself, as fearless of danger, and as fond of rural sports; but he often reproved me for my wanton tricks, and on one occasion we had very high words, which on my part had nearly come to blows, because he pushed my gun aside in shooting at a blackbird. Sparrows he considered fair game, because of their destructive habits, and besides, they were good for food; but what use was there in killing a poor harmless blackbird, and depriving the woods of his cheerful note?

My father was so fortunate as soon to obtain a tutor just adapted for his purposes. Mr. Syntax was an Irish gentleman of small fortune, who had studied at Trinity College, Dublin, and having no means of obtaining promotion either at the bar or in the church, had resolved to engage as a tutor or travelling companion in the family

of any who would meet his terms. Besides an enthusiastic attachment to the classics, he was a good French scholar, and having resided for some time in France, had acquired freedom in the language, and a good pronunciation. Though my father hated the French, yet he considered the knowledge of the language as a great advantage for one destined, perhaps, to pass much of his time in foreign countries, and our tutor was engaged with the understanding that he was to add the knowledge of French to our other acquirements.

Our tutor, though professedly a Christian, was at heart an infidel, and what was a classical virtue was a genuine virtue with him. Hence our readings were without selection; and our taste was directed to the beauty of the passage without ever analyzing its sentiment. Thus our minds became warehouses, in which were indis. criminately deposited things both good and bad. In the same way we read the Historians of more modern times, and numerous portions from Hume and Gibbon were swallowed down as precious morceaux, without any effort to extract from them their insidious poisons. In nothing, perhaps, is it more necessary than in the reading of history to separate the precious from the vile; but as Historians relate the most hateful intrigues with

out any moral reflexions, and the most barbarous exploits of conquerors without breathing one sentiment of pity over their wretched victims, so there are too many tutors who pass them over in silence, and leave them to produce their natural effects on the mind.

We had attained our seventeenth year, when the tutor was to be dismissed, and my father commenced inquiries for purchasing a commission for me in the army, while my friend Dick was to depart for Cambridge.

I had for some time observed that Dick was unusually thoughtful and uneasy, and one day in our rambles over the fields, he sat down upon a stile and opened to me his whole heart.

"George," said he, "you are going to enjoy the world, while I am to be shut up among cloisters; I wish your father would intercede with mine, and let me go with you; how pleasant it would be to be comrades in the army!"

My dear fellow!" said I, "it would be of all things in the world that which I should most desire. But why will not your father let you go of his own accord ?"

"He has made up his mind that I shall be a parson."

"A parson! and a poor curate all your life!" "And passing rich with forty pounds a year!"

"Not exactly so, but not much better-he has a small living in prospect, which indeed he has been promised by a wealthy godfather of mine; but then who can endure the everlasting round of a village life, as a village parson? It is mere vegetating, it is not living. It is death to my feelings-George, I protest I would sooner shoot myself."

This was followed by the blow of a stick on the stile, and a flow of tears which watered the upper bar like a hasty shower of rain.

"Be comforted, my friend," said I, "the field of glory is open to you as well as to me, and you may yet wear scarlet instead of black." "If the sky were to fall," rejoined he, "we might catch larks."

"there

'No, no, my dear Dick," I retorted, is nothing Utopian in my notion. At most you can but be doomed to four years' captivity, and then you will be twenty-one, and at liberty to act for yourself before you are called upon to take orders. But what has made you come to this resolution? I thought you were pleased at the prospect of going into the church; you used to talk to me about preaching the Gospel, and visiting the sick, and clothing the naked, and how many good things you would do when you should become a parson. Well, I am glad you