Our school was a little world in miniature. Most of those now prominent in my recollection had been foreshadowed by traits which distinguished my school-mates. The small creatures were faithful prototypes of scores of adults I have since met in various parts of the world. If they have not met with their deserts, good, bad, or indifferent, it must be because of their lack, or misuse, of opportunities, or accident. There were some among them good enough for heaven, there were others who seemed wholly vile. Even at that early age I held a belief that some of them would become heroes and saints, and would be world-famous, while there were two or three whom I regarded as too despicable for human intercourse. Time, however, has proved me to have been wrong. My saint occupies an average place among common men, my hero is lost in the deep silence, my criminals are probably as good yeomen as could be wished, my ideals of imbecility are modest citizens, but from among the unobserved flock have emerged two or three to note and worth. Meantime, remote and secluded from the world without our gates, which rode in fine chariots, or sat in glory on the roof of the ‘Jellamanjosy’ coach, or strode free along the Queen’s highway, we vegetated within the high walls surrounding our home of lowliness. We could take no part in public rejoicings, or grieve in its sorrows; we knew no Royal or State occasions, shared in no jubilant celebrations, and were equally ignorant of public panics and disturbances, as of the pomp and woes of war. In the Crimea there might be a million of men gathered together to play at the dangerous game of cannon-balls, and to batter one another into shapeless fragments; London might roar day and night with its thunderous traffic; Birmingham might be suffocating under the fumes of its furnaces; and Manchester might vibrate under the force of its accumulated mechanisms,--to us it mattered as little as though we were in another planet. Year after year we noted the passing of the seasons by the budding blossoms, the flight of bees, the corn which changed from green to gold, the fall and whirl of leaves, followed soon after by white snow, and blasts of nipping winds, which stiffened our muscles, and sent us shivering to the fire. The little shops near and in St. Asaph had somehow the air of large-hearted benevolence, which I never knew to be realised. How often I tried to peep in, that I might understand the ways of these singular people, having by right divine the privilege of dispensing to all men unlimited stores of food and clothing! How I envied the grocer’s boy, who could dig his hands at his pleasure into inexhaustible barrels of currants and boxes of raisins, and the plenteous loaves of white fragrant sugar, or the smart youth with the blue necktie, who might wear any gorgeous robe he chose, for I believed it was only his modesty which prevented him from appearing in crimson, or yellow, silk and satin!