before to see us again. They had not only not forgot us, but not forgot a bit about us. Everything that we had done and said and written was quite fresh and present to their minds, and I should be assured in vain that all my trouble in writing to them was thrown away. Arthur is grown so interesting, and so entertaining too, he talks incessantly, runs about, and amuses himself, and is full of pretty speeches, repartees, and intelligence: the dear little creature would not leave me, or stir without holding my hand, and he knew all that had been going on quite as much as the others. He is more like Owen than ever, only softer, more affectionate, and not what you call so fine a boy.'

When he was four years old, we find his mother writing to her sister :

January 30, 1820.-As for the children, my Arthur is sweeter than ever. His drawing fever goes on, and his passion for pictures and birds, and he will talk sentiment to Mademoiselle about le printemps, les oiseaux and les fleurs, when he walks out. When we went to Highlake, he asked quite gravely-whether it would not be good for his little wooden horse to have some sea-bathing!"

And again, in the following summer :

"ALDERLEY, July 6, 1820.—I have been taking a domestic walk with the three children and the pony to Owen's favorite cavern, Mary and Arthur taking it in turns to ride. Arthur was sorely puzzled between his fear and his curiosity. Owen and Mary, full of adventurous spirit, went with Mademoiselle to explore. Arthur stayed with me and the pony, but when I said I would go, he said coloring, he would go, he thought: "Bnt, mamma, do you think there are any wild dogs in the cavern?" Then we picked up various specimens of cobalt, etc.,

and we carried them in a basket, and we called at Mrs. Barber's, and we got some string, and we tied the basket to the pony with some trouble, and we got home very safe, and I finished the delights of the evening by reading Paul and Virginia' to Owen and Mary, with which they were much delighted, and so was I. "You would have given a good deal for a peep at Arthur this evening, making hay with all his little strength-such a beautiful color, and such soft animation in his blue eyes."

It was often remarked that Mrs. Stanley's children were different from those of any one else; but this was not to be wondered at. Their mother not only taught them their lessons, she learnt all their lessons with them. While other children were plodding through dull histories of disconnected countries and ages, of which they were unutterably weary at the time, and of which they remembered nothing afterward, Mrs. Stanley's system was to take a particular era, and, upon the basis of its general history,

to pick out for her children from different books, whether memoirs, chronicles, or poetry, all that bore upon it, making it at once an interesting study to herself and them, and talking it over with them in a way which encouraged them to form their own opinion upon it, to have theories as to how such and such evils might have been forestalled or amended, and so to fix it in their recollection.

To an imaginative child, Alderley was the most delightful place possible, and while Owen Stanley delighted in the clear brook which dashes through the rectory garden for the ships of his own. manufacture-then as engrossing as the fitting out of the Ariel upon the mere in later boyhood-little Arthur revelled in the legends of the neighborhood—of its wizard of Alderley Edge, with a hundred horses sleeping in an enchanted cavern, and of the church bell which fell down a steep hill into Rostherne Mere, and which is tolled by a mermaid when any member of a great neighboring family is going to die.

Being the poet of the little family, Arthur Stanley generally put his ideas into verse, and there are lines of his written at eleven years old, on seeing the sunrise from the top of Alderley church tower, and at twelve years old, on witnessing the departure of the Ganges, hearing his brother Owen, from Spitbead, which give evidence of poetical power, more fully evinced two years later in his longer poems on The Druids'

"

and on The Maniac of Betharan. When he was old enough to go to school, his mother wrote an amusing account of the turn-out of his pockets and desk before leaving home, and the extraordinary collection of crumpled scraps of poetry which were found there. In March, 1821, Mrs. Stanley wrote:

'Arthur is in great spirits and looks, well prepared to do honor to the jacket and trousers preparing for him. He is just now opposite to me, lying on the sofa reading Miss Edgeworth's Frank' to himself (his lesson being concluded) most eagerly. I must tell you his moral deductions from 'Frank.' The other day, as I was dressing, Arthur, Charlie, and Elizabeth were playing in the passage. I heard a great crash, which turned out to be Arthur running very fast, not stopping himself in time, and coming against the window, at the end of the passage, so as to break three panes. He was not hurt, but I

heard Elizabeth remonstrating with him on the crime of breaking windows, to which he answered with great sang froid, 'Yes, but you know Frank's mother said she would rather have all the windows in the house broke than that Frank should tell a lie so now I can go and tell mamma, and then I shall be like Frank.' I did not make my appearance, so when the door opened for the entrée after dinner, Arthur came in first, in scmething of a bustle, with cheeks as red as fire, and eyes looking-as his eyes do look, saying the instant the door opened, 'Mamma! I have broke three panes of glass in the passage window!—and I tell you now 'cause I was afraid to forget.' I am not sure whether there is not a very inadequate idea left on his mind as to the sin of glass-breaking, and that he rather thought it a fine thing having the opportunity of coming to tell mamma something like Frank; however, there was some little effort, vide the agitation and red cheeks, so we must not be hypercritical."

After he was eight years old, Mrs. Stanley, who knew the interest and capacity of her little Arthur about everything, was much troubled by his becoming so increasingly shy, that he never would speak if he could help it, even when he was alone with her, and she dreaded that the companionship of other boys at school, instead of drawing him out, would only make him shut himself up more in himself. Still, in the frequent visits which his parents paid to the seaside at Highlake, he always recovered his lost liveliness of manner and movement, climbed merrily up the sandhills, and was never tired in mind or body. It was therefore a special source of rejoicing when it was found that Mr. Rawson, the vicar of Seaforth (a place five miles from Liverpool, and only half a mile from the sea), had a school for nine little boys, and thither in 1824 it was decided that Arthur should be sent. In August, his young aunt wrote:

"Arthur liked the idea of going to school as making him approach nearer to Owen. We took him last Sunday evening from Crosby, and he kept up very well till we were to part, but when he was to separate from us to join his new companions he clung to us in a piteous manner, and burst into tears. Mr. Rawson very good-naturedly offered to walk with us a little way, and walk back with Arthur, which he liked better, and he returned with Mr. R. very manfully. On Monday evening we went to have a look at him before leaving the neighborhood, and found the little fellow as happy as possible, much amused with the novelty of the situation, and talking of the boys' proceedings with as much importance as if he had been there for months. He wished us good-bye in a very firm tone, and we have

heard since from his Uncle Penrhyn that he had been spending some hours with him, in which he laughed and talked incessantly of all that he did at school. He is very proud of being called Stanley,' and seems to like it altogether very much. The satisfaction to mamma and auntie is not to be told of having disposed of this little sylph in so excellent a manner: Every medical man has always said that a few years of constant sea-air would make him quite strong, and to find this united to so desirable a master as Mr. R. and so careful and kind a protectress as Mrs. R., is being very fortunate.'

In the following summer the same pen writes from Alderley to one of the family:

"July, 1825.-You know how dearly I love all these children, and it has been such a pleasure to see them all so happy together. Owen, the hero upon whom all their little eyes were fixed, and the delicate Arthur able to take his own share of boyish amusements with them, and telling out his little store of literary wonders to Charlie and Catherine. School has not transformed him into a rough boy yet. He is a little less shy, but not much. He brought back from school a beautiful prize book for history, of which he is not a little proud; and Mr. Rawson has told several people, unconnected with the Stanleys, that he never had a more amiable, attentive, or clever boy than Arthur Stanley, and that he never has had to find fault with him since he came. My sister finds, in examining him, that he not only knows what he has learned himself, but that he picks up all the knowledge gained by the other boys in their lessons, and can tell what each boy in the school has read, etc. His delight in reading 'Madoc' and 'Thalaba' is excessive.”

In the following year, Miss Leycester writes:

Ar

Ar

STOKE, August 26, 1826.-My Alderley children are more interesting than ever. thur is giving Mary quite a literary taste, and is the greatest advantage to her possible, for they are now quite inseparable companions, reading, drawing, and writing together. thur has written a poem on the Life of a peacock-butterfly in the Spenserian stanza, with all the old words, with references to Chaucer, etc., at the bottom of the page! To be sure it would be singular if they were not different from other children, with the advantages they have where education is made so interesting and amusing as it is to them. I never saw anything equal to Arthur's memory and quickness in picking up knowledge; seeming to have just that sort of intuitive sense of every thing relating to books that Owen had in ships, and then there is such affection and sweetness of disposition in him. You will not

be tired of all this detail of those so near my heart. It is always such a pleasure to me to write of the rectory, and I can always do it better when I am away from it and it rises before my mental vision."

The summer of 1826 was marked for the Stanleys by the news of the death of their beloved friend Reginald Heber, and by the marriage of Isabella Stanley to Captain Parry, the Arctic voyager, an event at which his mother could not resist sending for her little Arthur to be present.' Meantime he was happy at school and wrote long histories home of all that took place there, especially amused with his drilling sergeant, who told him to put on a bold, swag gering air, and not to look sheepish. But each time of his return to Alderley, he seemned shyer than ever, and his mother became increasingly concerned at his want of boyishness.

January 27, 1828.-Oh, it is so difficult to know how to manage Arthur. He takes having to learn dancing, so terribly to heart, and enacts Prince Pitiful; and will, I am afraid, do no good at it. Then he thinks I do not like his reading because I try to draw him also to other things, and so he reads by stealth and lays down his book when he hears people coming; and having no other pursuits or anything he cares for but reading, has a listless look, and I am sure he is very often unhappy. I suspect, however, that this is Arthur's worst time, and that he will be a happier man than boy.'

In January, 1828, Mrs. Stanley wrote to Augustus W. Hare, long an intimate friend of the family, and soon about to marry her sister :

"I have Arthur at home, and I have rather a puzzling card to play with him-how not to encourage too much his poetical tastes, and to spoil him, in short-and yet how not to discourage what in reality one wishes to grow, and what he, being timid and shy to a degree, would easily be led to shut up entirely to himself; and then he suffers so much from a laudable desire to be with other boys, and yet when with them, finds his incapacity to enter into their pleasures of shooting, hunting, horses, and theirs for his. He will be happier as a man, as literary men are more within reach than literary boys."

In the following month she wrote: "ALDERLEY, February 8, 1828.-Now I am going to ask your opinion and advice, and perhaps your assistance, on my own account. We are beginning to consider what is to be done with Arthur, and it will be time for him to be moved from his small school in another year, when he will be thirteen. We have given up all thoughts of Eton for him from the many objections, combined with the great expense. Now I want to ask your opinion about Shrewsbury, Rugby, and Winchester; do you think, from what you know of Arthur's character and capabilities that Winchester would suit him, and vice verså?”

In answer to this Augustus Hare wrote from Naples :

"March 26, 1828.-Are you aware that the person of all others fitted to get on with boys is just elected master of Rugby? His name is Arnold. He is a Wykehamist and Fellow of Oriel, and a particular friend of mine-a man calculated beyond all others to engraft modern scholarship and modern improvements on the old fashioned stem of a public education. school in Europe; what Rugby may turn out I cannot say, for I know not the materials he has there to work on."

Winchester under him would be the best

A few weeks later he added:

ness.

and

"FLORENCE, April 19, 1828.-I am so little satisfied with what I said about Arthur in my last letter, that I am determined to begin with him and do him more justice. What you describe him now to be, I once was; and I have myself suffered too much and too often from my inferiority in strength and activity to boys who were superior to me in nothing else, not to feel very deeply for any one in a similar state of school-forwardness and bodily weakParents in general are too anxious to push their children on in school and other learning. If a boy happens not to be robust, it is laying up for him a great deal of pain and mortification. For a boy must naturally associate with others in the same class consequently, if he happens to be forward beyond his years, he is thrown at twelve (with perhaps the strength of only eleven or ten) into the company of boys two years older and probably three or four years stronger (for boobies are always stout of limb). You may conceive what wretchedness this is likely to lead to, in a state of society like a school, where might almost necessarily makes right. But it is not only at school that such things lead to mortification. There are a certain number of manly exercises which every gentleman, at some time or other of his life, is likely to be called on to perform, and many a man who is deficient in these, would gladly purchase dexterity in them, if he could, at the price of those mental accomplishments which have cost him in boyhood the most pains to acquire. Who would not rather ride well at twenty-five, than write the prettiest Latin verses? I am perfectly impartial in this respect, being able to do neither, and therefore my judgment is likely enough to be correct. So pray during the holidays make Arthur ride hard and shoot often, and, in short, gymnasticize in every possible manner. I have said thus much to relieve my own mind and convey to you how earnestly I feel on the subject. Otherwise I know Alderley and its inhabitants too well to suspect any one of them of being, what Wordsworth calls' an intellectual all-in-all.' About his school, were Rugby under any other master, I certainly should not advise your thinking of it for Arthur for an instant; as it is, the decision will be more difficult. When Arnold has been there ten years, he will have made it a good school, perhaps in some respects the very best in the island; but a transition state is always one of

doubt and delicacy. Winchester is admirable for those it succeeds with, but is not adapted for all sorts and conditions of boys, and sometimes fails. However, when I come to England, I will make a point of seeing Arthur, when I shall be a little better able perhaps to judge."

In the summer of 1828 Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, with her sister Maria and her niece Lucy Stanley, from the Park, went by sea to Bordeaux and for a tour in the Pyrenees, taking little Arthur and his sister Mary with them. It was his first experience of foreign travel, and most intense was his enjoyment of it. All was new then, and Mr. Stanley wrote of the children as being almost as much intoxicated with delight on first landing at Bordeaux as their faithful maid, Sarah Burgess, who "thinks life's fitful dream is past, and that she has, by course of transmigration, passed into higher sphere. It is recollected how, when he first saw the majestic summit of the Pic du Midi rising above a mass of cloud, Arthur Stanley, in his great ecstasy, could say nothing but What shall I do! What shall I do !''

a

In the following October Mrs. Stanley described her boy's peculiarities to Dr. Arnold, and asked his candid advice as to how far Rugby was likely to suit him. After receiving his answer she wrote to

her sister:

March, 1829.-We arrived at Rugby exactly at twelve, waited to see the boys pass, and soon spied Arthur with his books on his shoulder. He colored up and came in, looking very well, but cried a good deal on seeing us, chiefly I think from nervousness. The only complaint he had to make was that of having no friend, and the feeling of loneliness belonging to that want, and this, considering what he is and what boys of his age usually are, would and must be the case anywhere. We went to dine with Dr. and Mrs. Arnold, and they are

of the same opinion, that he was as well off and as happy as he could be at a public school, and on the whole I am satisfied—quite satisfied considering all things, for Dr. and Mrs. Arnold are indeed delightful. She was ill, but still animated and lively. He has a very remarkable countenance, something in forehead, and again in manner, which puts me in mind of Reginald Heber, and there is a mixture of zeal, energy, and determination tempered with wisdom, candor, and benevolence, both in manner and in everything he says. He had examined Arthur's class, and said Arthur had done very well, and the class generally. He said he was gradually reforming, but that it was like pasting down a piece of paper-as fast as one corner was put down another started up. 'Yes,' said Mrs. A., 'but Dr. Arnold always thinks the corner will not start again.' And it is that happy sanguine temperament which is so particularly calculated to do well in this or, indeed, any situation.'

Arthur Stanley soon became very happy at Rugby. His want of a friend was friends of his whole after life dated from speedily supplied, and many of the his early school-days, especially Charles Vaughan, afterward his intimate companion, eventually his brother-in-law. His rapid removal into the shell at East

er, and into the fifth form at Midsummer, brought him nearer to the head master, at the same time freeing him from the terrors of prepostors and faglibrary. So he returned to Alderley in ging, and giving him entrance to the the summer holidays well and prosperous, speaking out, and full of peace and happiness, ready to enjoy striding about upon the lawn on stilts" with his On his return to brother and sisters. school his mother continued to hear of his progress in learning, but derived even more pleasure from his accounts of foolball, and of a hare-and-hounds hunt in which he "got left behind with a clumsy boy and a silly one" at a brook, which, after some deliberation, he leapt, and “nothing happened."

In September, 1829, his mother writes:

"I have had such a ridiculous account from Arthur of his sitting up, with three others, all night, to see what it was like! They heartily wished themselves in bed before morning. He also writes of an English copy of verses given to the fifth form-Brownsover, a village near Rugby, with the Avon flowing through it and the Swift flowing into the Avon, into which Wickliffe's ashes were thrown. So Arthur and some others instantly made a pilgrimage to Brownsover to make discoveries. They were allowed four days, and Arthur's was the best

of the thirty in the fifth form, greatly to his astonishment, but he says, 'Nothing happened except that I get called Poet now and then, and my study, Poet's Corner.' The master of the form gave another subject for them to write upon in an hour to see if they had each made their own, and Arthur was again head. What good sense there is in giving these kind of subjects to excite interest and inquiry, though few would be so supremely happy as Arthur in making the voyage of discovery. I ought to mention that Arthur was detected with the other boys in an unlawful letting off of squibs, and had 100 lines of Horace to translate !"

The following gleanings from his mother's letters give, in the absence of other material, glimpses of Arthur Stanley's life during the next few years:

rate.

"June 22, 183c. There was a letter from Arthur on Monday saying that his verses on Malta had failed in getting the prize. There had been a hard contest between him and another. His poem was the longest and contained the best ideas, but he says that is matter of opinion;' the other was the most accuThere were three masters on each side, and it was some time in being decided. The letter expresses his disappointment (for he had thought he should have it), his vexation (knowing that another hour would have enabled him to look over and probably to correct the fatal faults) so naturally, and then the struggle of his amiable feeling that it would be unkind to the other boy, who had been very much disappointed not to get the Essay, to make any excuses. Altogether it is just as I should wish, and much better than if he had got it.".

more alert. Charlie profits by both brothers. Arthur examines him in his Latin, and Charlie sits with his arm round his neck, looking with the most profound deference in his face for exposition of Virgil."

February, 1831.-Charlie writes word from school: I am very miserable, not that I want anything, except to be at home.' Arthur does not mind going half so much. He says he does not know why, but all the boys seem fond of him, and he never gets plagued in any way like the others; his study is left untouched, his things unbroke, his books undisturbed. Charlie is so fond of him and deservedly so. You would have been so pleased one night, when Charlie all of a sudden burst into violent distress at not having finished his French task for the holidays, by Arthur's judicious good nature in showing, him how to help himself, entirely leaving what he was about of his own employ

ment.

July, 1831.-I am writing in the midst of an academy of art. Just now there are Arthur and Mary drawing and painting at one table; Charlie deep in the study of fishes and hooks, and drawing varieties of both at another; and Catherine with her slate full of houses with thousands of windows. Charlie is fishing inad and knows how to catch every sort, and just now he informs me that to catch a bream you must go out before breakfast. He is just as fond as ever of Arthur. You would like to see Arthur examine him, which he does so mildly and yet so strictly, explaining everything so a l'Arnold."

"July 17, 1831.-I have been busy teaching Arthur to drive, row, and gymnasticize, and he finds himself making progress in the latter; that he can do more as he goes on-a great encouragement always. Imagine Dr. Arnold and one of the other masters gymnasticizing in the garden, and sometimes going out leaping -as much a sign of the times as the Chancellor appearing without a wig, and the king with half a coronation."

'ALDERLEY, November 11.-We slept at Rugby on Monday night, had a comfortable evening with Arthur, and next morning breakfasted with Dr. Arnold. What a man he is! He struck me more than before even, with the impression of power, energy, and singleness of heart, aim, and purpose. He was very indignant at the Quarterly Review article on cholera -the surpassing selfishness of it, and spoke so nobly-was busy writing a paper to state what cholera is, and what it is not. Arthur's veneration for him is beautiful; what good it must do to grow up under such a tree.'

"December 22, 1831.-I brought Arthur home on Wednesday from Knutsford. He was classed first in everything but composition, in which he was second, and mathematics, in which he did not do well enough to be classed, nor ill enough to prevent his having the reward of the rest of his works. I can trace the improvement from his having been so much under Dr. Arnold's influence; so many inquiries and ideas are started in his mind which will be the groundwork of future study. Charlie

is very happy now in the thought of going to Rugby and being with Arthur, and Arthur has