You call this education, do you not?
    Why, ’tis the forced march of a herd of bullocks
    Before a shouting drover.  The glad van
    Move on at ease, and pause a while to snatch
    A passing morsel from the dewy greensward;
    While all the blows, the oaths, the indignation,
    Fall on the troupe of the ill-fated laggard
    That cripples in the rear.

    Old Play.

“Well, sir,” said the old man, smiling, as we met at the appointed spot about one o’clock, “now for Hawkshead school!  I hope you have brought all your stock of patience with you, and no appetite for any thing beyond my little adventures on my first appearance under the frown of a schoolmaster.”

“Speaking of appetites,” said I, interrupting him, “and seeing what I now see before me, reminds me of a good joke against myself, which took place when I first knew Manchester.  I was standing upon this bridge, (or rather its predecessor the old bridge, for the Victoria was not then built,) at this hour of the day, when suddenly I saw a rush of men, women, and children upon it, from the Manchester side, which astonished me not a little.  I should think there could not be fewer than three or four hundred of them: all posting along at a great pace, with a good deal of anxiety and determination written on their countenances; and, though they said not a word to each other, with evidently one common object in view.  They were rather shabbily dressed, and clearly belonged to one class of society.  The imagination immediately conjured up various startling reasons for this unexpected concourse, such as a fire, a fight, or a radical meeting.  Seeing one solitary individual who p. 18was standing still, like myself, to let the crowd pass by, and whose countenance seemed to express that he was quite aware of the cause of this irruption into Salford, I could not resist the temptation of speaking to him, and said—‘My good friend, where are all these people going to!’  ‘To their dinners,’ said he, quietly and with a grin on his face, that made me ashamed of my ignorance, and which raises a smile on my cheek every time I see the same sight, which any man may do who stands here at one o’clock in the day, and sees the workmen of Manchester hasten home to their dinners in Salford.”

“Many a marvellous story,” said the old man, “has arisen out of a much less plausible foundation.

“Well, sir, to my tale.—There stood I, an anxious and trembling little boy, for the first time in my life at the door of a school.  What a large and awful place I thought it!  The very outside frightened me almost beyond endurance, and then, I thought, what is going on within!  My fears were more than realized on entrance; for the first thing that caught my eye was the head master himself,—old Bowman, sitting in awful state at the head of the school, with a great buzz wig on his head, and a most formidable ferula lying on the desk before him.  The old oak benches, cut and carved with names, some of which, insignificant as they then were, are now recorded in the history of our country, seemed formidable in my eyes, as compared with the smaller articles of the same kind in my own home; and the sight of so many boys all gathered together, and all busy at their own occupations, made my poor little head almost spin round in confusion.  I and my companions were, of course, as new comers, placed on the lowest form, and had to wait our turn to be called upon by the master of the lower school.  During that time I had leisure to look around me, which I did with fear and trembling.  At the head of the school, next to the master, sat Joshua Prince, of whom I had often heard as the first boy in the school, and a great favourite with the master.  With what a feeling of admiration did I regard him!  He was p. 19the son of a miller in the neighbourhood; but having shown great talents in early life, his parents determined to give him a good education and send him to college, in hopes that he might hereafter rise to eminence and distinction.  Nor did he disappoint their expectations.  He carried off the highest honours of his university, and is now one of the proudest boasts of Hawkshead school—thanks to good old............