SCHOOL EXPERIENCES. Ir was in the year 1838. I was somewhere between ten and eleven years old, just beginning to be very much afraid of young ladies, and fast emerging out of the state of nice-boy-hood into the gauche hobbledehoy, when it was decided that I was for some time in happy ignorance of this most momentous decision; for, though on most B I was to be educated. It was obviously impossible that the present "provisional government" of my sister's instructress could long continue on its hitherto firm basis, as it was gradually ceasing to make itself respected by its intellect or feared for its power. Being in disgrace had become rather an agreeable fact, for then "Robinson Crusoe" could be undisturbedly studied; and to be deprived of pudding, appeared rather a weak revenge for unsaid prosody; while not being allowed to come down-stairs for dessert, saved me the excruciating agony of being combed and cleaned. By-the-by, if any of my readers would kindly send me a line, addressed to the care of my publishers, explaining why nurses tear their charges' hair so unmercifully, and demonstrating the advantages of scouring the smoothest little face with the roughest wet towel, they would solve one of my greatest puzzles. For some weeks before the intentions of the higher powers were communicated to me, I had felt that something was in the wind, and had a sort of presentiment that I was to be some way disposed of. My lessons seemed of less impor tance: a sort of "well-after-all-it-does-not-muchmatter-now" sort of feeling seemed to prevail; while I became of greater importance, and my wardrobe of the greatest of all. The state of my shirts became a matter for most diligent inquiry; my shoes and the concomitant socks became objects of much interest to such members of the household as it concerned; and when, in addition to this, two new suits of clothes arrived to my address, built on (to me) new lines, and resembling those worn by my elder brother-who had hitherto, on the strength of his costume, inspired me with great awe: when this last brown-paper parcel lay opened before me, I considered that the season of uncertainty and doubt had passed away; that I had now sufficient data to go upon; so I boldly inquired what was going to be done with me-if several outfitters were being employed to rig me out for the Indies? And I learned, by slow but sure degrees, that I was going to school. I confess I did not take the matter as much to heart, just at first, as I ought to have done. Had I only known how the next four months were to be spent-had I only had an inkling of all I was to suffer in that period, I should not have answered, as I then did, "How glad I am!" No doubt I said this under the idea that school life was freedom: that I should be emancipated from all the affectionate restraints of home life. Most sadly was I deluded! I found gross slavery and tyranny, where I expected freedom. Yet there is no place in the world, no period of life, when a boy wants affection more, and finds it less, than during the first half-year at a large school. may be thought to speak too bitterly of that first entry into the world's discipline; but I shall not say half what I feel. As I look back to it now, "distance lends no enchantment to the view" whatever it seems the dark spot in an existence otherwise brightly happy. I But the bustle of preparation, the purchase of schoolboy necessaries-the new knife, the new hat, especially that hat to be worn on Sundays only-carried me safely through my last week at home. It was only when the carriage came to the door, that the sudden qualm of separation came upon me: that choking sensation in the throat, that want of air to breathe (yet I suppose that the current of oxygen is not really turned off during tearful farewells), which we all have experienced, made me aware that I was leaving my mother, and my home, with all its pet flowers and pet rabbits, the shaggy Newfoundland and sleek terrier, as well as all the household familiar friends known since childhood. Here I must pause, and say one word to those of my younger readers, who, ere they have read thus far, have not flung down the book, unable to control their feelings of contempt for my youth and innocence. Times have changed much, even in the few years since I was young; and as regards you, my friends, especially has the change been greatest. Among all the great advances, amid all the vast improvements of this age of progress, the rapid progress of the rising generation to manhood is pre-eminent. The shackles that kept us boys till twelve or fourteen, and young men till twenty or twenty-one, are removed from you: you make but one stride from long frocks to long frock-coats, but one step from |