OF MY

BOYHOOD.

"Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,

And told our marvelling boyhood legends store
Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea,
How are they blotted from the things that be!
How few, all weak and wither'd of their force,
Wait, on the verge of dark eternity,

Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse

To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course."

The Lady of the Lake

LONDON:

HOPE AND CO., PUBLISHERS,

16, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

1851.

249.4.405.

LONDON:

HOPE AND CO., PRINTERS,

16, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

OTHE

REMINISCENCES OF MY BOYHOOD.

I.

I am just entering into what I can remember hearing people talk about when I was quite a child-the difficulties and trials of life; I could not, of course, comprehend the meaning of such terms then, and in fact, like all other children, I did not let them trouble me much, but I feel no backwardness in saying that I think I know now by experience that there are such obstacles to be encountered...

I have been drawn by a chain of circumstances from the luxuriant country to reside in the very heart of our great metropolis, and yet I look upon myself as an almost