allotted five minutes, at St. Sourbriar, in Millgate,
Launchester.

The porch, overgrown with honeysuckle
and creepers, looked as unforbidding a schoolhouse
entrance as one would wish to see; and
the servant-maid who opened the door seemed
to be cut out of the same pattern of neatness
as the white bedroom curtains. We speedily
found ourselves in the presence of the matron.
The Reverend Lucas Springer and his lady
lived at the Rectory, and the matron, beyond
occasional consultations, chiefly of a financial
character, had all the domestic arrangements
to herself. She was a good-tempered, well-
spoken, bunch-of-keys-at-her-waist sort of
personage, who never seemed at a loss about
anything. On producing my card, she seemed
fully prepared for my visit, and requested me
to wait in the library until tea was prepared
for me after my journey.

I had leisure to take a brief but most
satisfactory survey of this important part of
the establishment. Full well I remembered
the meagre stock at schools in by-gone days,
when, a copy of " Evenings at Home " would
go about in the hands of every one but its
possessor, who in turn monopolised " Robinson
Crusoe," and the odd third volume of the
"Travels of Rolando." Between these, an
odd " Speaker " or " Reader," or so, and
a few puerile story-books, we might have
starved for reading, had not some elder boy,
of revolutionary principles, now and then
smuggled in a newspaper, which he read in
company with a select and confidential circle.
Happy and proud was the boy who could gain
the entrée to that exclusive "set," and strange
and persevering was the course of that
juvenile politician, until he made his maiden
speech in the House.

But, here was something calculated really
and truly to develop and foster the mind of
a boy, enough to furnish and expand ideas,
without being enough to drive the imagination
riot, or to deprive the reasoning faculties
of a definite stand-point. Good sound histories
and gazetteers, the best encyclopædias, a few
practical and comprehensive works on arts
and sciences, were blended with a complete
collection of such classics as, without coming
within the limits of a regular course of school
study, might yet be available for reference.
Nor were the more fascinating studies
excluded. Poetry and the drama found their
best and purest representatives, and the
whole collection gave the idea of a good
private library, purchased without ostentation
or affectation of rarity, and arranged
with a sole view to utility and improvement.
Above the cases, hung various specimens of
drawings by some boys, and of calligraphy by
others; the variety of subjects showed that
whilst ruined cottages and water-mills were
drawn with taste by the boys who treated
drawing as an accomplishment, others had
made the steam-engine and the coast-battery
subjects of satisfactory, but of course less
profound, study, and had, even at an early
period, found sufficient encouragement to
cheer on their juvenile enthusiasm until
opportunity might perfect its efforts. Some of the
writing was no less suggestive of the banker's
ledger. In short, the trophies thus exhibited
told a distinct tale of the desire to develop
individual capacity: not to rack and distort it
upon the Procrustean bed of mere line and
rule.

Our meditations were cut short by the
approach of tea, and the return of the matron.
I had already seen enough to raise my
curiosity, nay, almost enough to make me
believe that a model school was not the
chimera which previous experience had led
me to maintain. Despatching my two cups of
tea with a readiness worthy of Dr. Johnson,
I followed my good-natured escort.

The bedroom story was evidently the
favourite hobby of the matron, whose life
might have been well-nigh spent in looking
after clean towels, seeing that the filters
(there was one in every room) were filled,
and the windows kept open. But she was
a great favourite with the boys, the confidante
of all their sorrows, and they did all in
their power to save her trouble. The plain,
cheap, deal furniture of these little chambers
was faultlessly clean; everything was uniform
and compact, yet of the simplest, plainest, and
most substantial make. A beautiful incentive
to holy thoughts on beginning or ending
the toil or sports of the day, was the number
of little prints of scriptural subjects which
adorned the wall that faced the bedstead—
silent and unobtrusive, yet pleasing and
impressive companions to the Bible and Prayer
Book that graced every table.

The most fastidious scrupulousness could not
have found a fault with the arrangements of
these pretty little rooms, especially when one
reflected on the saving of health and
cleanliness, and the incentive to neatness of habits,
thus practically inculcated, by making every
boy answerable for the state of his own room.
What a contrast to St. Sourbriar! How
different was the struggle for the soap or the
jack-towel! How replete with combats, and
personal danger, a visit to the already cracked
looking-glass! and how severely visited, at
the same time, was any offence against
tidiness!

We now entered the chapel—a plain, neat
building, free from trivial affectations of
ornament, and invested with nothing calculated
to distract the thoughts from simple, boyish
prayer: then we passed on, through a small
corridor, to the school-room.

Five or six boys were busy, and all in
different ways. School was over, but work
was not. One was elaborately transcribing
some algebraic figures, which made our head
ache; another was copying out music, with
great neatness; while a third was copying a
Christ's head in chalk. Neither seemed to
interfere with the rest, and all seemed to be