meeting,--a maiden, in fact, of whom I had long stood in dread.

My school commenced the week after Thanksgiving. I had fancied myself
appearing among my scholars like a king surrounded by his subjects. But
these lofty notions soon melted down beneath the searching glances of
forty pairs of eyes. A sense of my incompetency came over me, and I felt
like saying,--"Young people, little children, what can I do for you, and
how shall I show you any good?"

The first thing I did was to take the names. Ah! in what school-record
of modern times could be found such a catalogue of the Christian
virtues? Think of mending pens for Faith and Prudence!--of teaching
arithmetic to Love, Hope, and Charity!--of imparting general knowledge
to Experience! There were three of this last name, and it was only after
a long _experience_ of my own that I learned that the first was called
"Pelly," the second, "Exy," and the third, "Sperrence." Penelope was
rendered "Pep."

It gave me peculiar sensations to find among my scholars so many large
girls. I have said that I had never been in the habit of running after
the girls, and I never had. I was one of those quiet young men who read
poetry, buy pictures and statues, and play the flute on still, moonlight
evenings. Not that I was indifferent to female charms, or let beauty
pass by unnoticed. In fact, I was keenly alive to the beautiful in all
its forms. I had seen, in the course of my life, a great many handsome
faces, which, in my quiet way, I had studied, when nobody was minding,
comparing beauties, or imagining alterations for the better, just as if
I had been studying a picture or a statue, and with no more fear of
being myself affected. Passing strange it was, that, exposed as I had
been, I should have remained so long unscathed. My time had not yet