Henry's progress for ever. He was, however, placed under the care of a Mr. Shipley, who soon discovered that he was a boy of quick perception, and very admirable talents; and came with joy, like a good man, to relieve the anxiety and painful suspicions of his family. While his school-masters were complaining that they could make nothing of him, he discovered what Nature had made him, and wrote satires upon them. These pieces were never shown to any, except his most particular friends, who say that they were pointed and severe. They are enumerated in the table of contents to one of his manuscript volumes, under the title of School-Lampoons; but, as was to be expected, he had cut the leaves out, and destroyed them. One of his poems written at this time, and under these feelings, is preserved. ON BEING CONFINED TO SCHOOL One pleasant Morning in Spring. Written at the Age of Thirteen. THE morning sun's enchanting rays While wildly warbling from each tree, The birds sing songs to Liberty. But for me no songster sings, For me no joyous lark up-springs; For I, confined in gloomy school, Must own the pedant's iron rule, How gladly would my soul forego Or stiff grammarians quaintly teach, Or all that industry can reach, And woo the muse's gentle power, But, ah! such heaven-approaching joys Yet never but in fancy shine. Oh, that I were the little wren That shrilly chirps from yonder glen! There hop and sing with careless glee, And till death should stop my lays, Far from men would spend my days. About this time his mother was induced, by the advice of several friends, to open a Ladies' Boarding and Day School in Nottingham, her eldest daughter having previously been a teacher in one for some time. In this she succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations, and Henry's home comforts were thus materially increased, though it was still out of the power of his family to give him that education and direction in life which his talents deserved and required. It was now determined to breed him up to the hosiery trade, the staple manufacture of his native place, and at the age of fourteen he was placed in a stocking-loom, with the view, at some future period, of getting a situation in a hosier's warehouse. During the time that he was thus employed, he might be said to be truly unhappy; he went to his work with evident reluctance, and could not refrain from sometimes hinting his extreme aversion to it: but the circumstances of his family obliged them to turn a deaf ear*. His mother, however, secretly felt that he * His temper and tone of mind at this period, when he was in his fourteenth year, are displayed in this extract from an Address to Contemplation. THEE do I own, the prompter of my joys, And blame and censure me, that I don't tie The good things of the world may be my lot, For as still I tried to cast with school dexterity The interesting sums, my vagrant thoughts was worthy of better things, to her he spoke more openly: he could not bear, he said, the thought of A wayward youth, misled by Fancy's vagaries, The busy bustling crowds could meditate, And send my thoughts ten thousand leagues away To memory doubly dear; for growing years Had not then taught me man was made to mourn; And a short hour of solitary pleasure, Stolen from sleep, was ample recompence For all the hateful bustles of the day. My op'ning mind was ductile then, and plastic, While I was sway'd by every novel impulse, But it has now assum'd its character; Mark'd by strong lineaments, its haughty tone, To indulge thy solemn musings; still the same In thee alone delighting. Why along |