ISABEL, THE LACEMAKER.

BY W. H. HARRISON, ESQ.

In another part of this volume, I have narrated a circumstance which occurred at my first school: the events upon which the following sketch is founded took place during my continuance at my last; where I was one of twelve boys, from fourteen to seventeen years old, who were committed to the care of a clergyman, in one of the most delightful situations in Hampshire. He was deeply versed in the classics and mathematics, and as profoundly ignorant of the world. For the rest, he was of mild temper and amiable manners; and, although somewhat of a disciplinarian in school hours, he was often our companion, and occasionally our play-fellow, for the remainder of the day.

At every other school at which I had been placed learning was a labour to me, and it was, consequently, of slow and irksome acquirement; but, under Mr. Wilton, it became a pleasure. Many a time, during the summer months, would he take us out upon a lawn, which fronted the study and commanded a rich and varied extent of country, and there hear us our classical lessons under the shadow of a magnificent oak; and so much was the scene in

accordance with the subject of our studies, that I could almost fancy myself. in the midst of that Arcadia which the bard of Mantua so sweetly sung. Well I remember, too, after we had construed the prescribed quantum of the Eneid, our reverend preceptor would read the corresponding portion in Dryden's translation, which was an old folio edition, and exhibit to our delighted vision pictorial illustrations of that beautiful fable. Many years have passed away since that volume was closed upon my eyes for the last time; but I seem to have, at this moment, vividly before them, the print of the wooden horse, with the javelin of Laocoön in its ribs and I think I could accurately trace, upon the paper before me, the circumvolutions of the hideous serpents on the limbs of the devoted priest and his sons, as depicted, faithfully no doubt, in the engraving. Again, the representation of the shipwreck of Æneas, with all its horrible minutiæ of detail-the visible winds 66 cracking their cheeks," and the "rari nantes in gurgite vasto,"appear to my mind's eye to occupy a space in the white curtains of the bed, beside which I am, at this moment, keeping vigil over an invalid, and, happily, now sleeping friend. I recollect that we were wont to consider their heathenish deityships,

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notwithstanding their high attributes, but very soso sort of personages, whom, if they had had the benefit of living under an English constitution, nothing but their immortality would have saved from the gallows.

In the intervals between the hours of study, we were allowed much liberty, and were wont to explore the enchanting country around us in every direction. O those delightful woods, in which we have gathered nuts, and wild flowers, and strawberries; and the spacious park, of which the noble owner permitted us the range, where we were accustomed to pick up chesnuts-the "castaneæ molles"-which we seemed to relish the better, because Virgil had given us a classical name for them!

Those were indeed happy days, and I thought them such at the time; so happy, that I was a rare instance of a youth quitting school, in distrust if the world, on which I was about to enter, would afford me an equivalent for the peaceful pleasures that I was called upon to resign. Experience-long, bitter, and sad experience-confirmed my misgivings; and now, "post tot naufragia,” having anchored in the haven of domestic happiness, I often look upon the young, and bright, and innocent coun