More pleasure yet: for in Whittermead it was a day consecrated to it. Dinner-parties and tea-parties, and cakes, and sweetmeats, and happy faces; and boys upon their best behaviour, and young ladies radiant in blue ribbons and white muslin, with green and gilded oak-leaves sparkling in their shining hair.

But it came to an end. All things bright must come to an end, as well as all things sad. And the joyous revellers went home to bed in a trance of happiness, to dream it all over again, and to wish that every day in the year was the twenty-ninth of May.

But there was one of those whom you met this morning who did not take part in the feasting or the revelry -and that was Frederick Vane. Frederick Vane departed that day for the great metropolis, where he had been wildly desirous of making a sojourn, and had at length got leave from Mr Vane to do so. It was his Arcadia. But one known as yet in imagination only, for he had not been there since he was a child.

CHAPTER III.

HARRY VANE.

My dear boys, I have said that this story is written

on, you will probably I would wish to warn

especially for you. As you go discover why I have written it. you against disobedience. You have heard of popular fallacies, but I can tell you that there never was a more decided one than that fallacy of yours-the belief that you know better than your parents. How often has a

boy come to an issue with his father and mother, and decamped to sea in disobedience! He has picked up that agreeable but most deceptive notion, that the going to sea will prove a remedy for all evils under the sun. Another fallacy.

He

I make no doubt you must know some who have so gone I feel sure you know some who are wanting to go. A boy grows dissatisfied, lazy, tired; tired of all things; tired of land-or rather of the life he is leading on land—and he thinks he will go to sea. thinks it will cure him. So it will, with a vengeance. Talk to him of the hardships he will have to encounter; the endurance he must fortify himself with against the hardships! You may as well talk to the winds. Did you ever know sons who have gone off to sea in this manner, and have never returned? I have. I have known some who have only gone out to die. It is a common occurrence, this running away to sea: how

common, I believe that few of us know or suspect. Some have gone in half opposition; some in downright defiance and disobedience; some, in cunning stealth, running away clandestinely. These boys are often remarkably unfitted for a sea life; and that they find out to their cost. A boy who embraces the sea as a profession ought to have been fitted for it by nature, otherwise it will prove for him the most miserable of all lives that he could lead on earth. Many have sunk under the hardships; many will sink again. Never you be tempted to resort to it. Never run away to sea. If any one of you should find the seduction approaching near him, fly from it as you would fly from a pestilence. You can read on now.

At seven o'clock, on the morning following the show of the 29th of May, the boys were all in school, except one. Dr Robertson took a few boarders, but most of his pupils were out-door ones. It was a renowned and expensive school, equal to any in the county. The one not at school was William Allair. He was subject to violent sick headaches, and awoke with one that morning. His absence at these times was readily allowed by Dr Robertson, who knew that while the pain lasted he was incapable of study.

Of all the boys, the two between whom existed the greatest intimacy and friendship, were Harry Vane and William Allair; and yet no two could present to each other a greater contrast. Harry Vane, far in advance of his years, high-spirited, noble, independent, was one of those who are sure to hold sway amongst and rule their fellows. He was universally admired for his daring, yet generous spirit; and his well-known prepossession for,

and constant talk of the sea, had created a sort of excited fancy for it in the school. Several had begun to be almost as eager for it as he was. But with this difference; while his liking for it was innate-the prompting of nature theirs was nothing more than a passing fancy, into which they had worked themselves. Squire Jones's eldest son and William Allair were the most seriously impressed. It was like the hay fever, which had broken. out in the school the summer previously. Several got

a touch of it, but only one or two were attacked dangerously. Harry Vane's predilection for the sea was in truth a real one. It had certainly been born with him. Rely upon it, that some peculiar liking, a talent for some certain sphere of usefulness, over and above all others, is born with all of us. Not a boy, amongst you who read this, but has been endowed with qualities by the great Creator that will fit him for some calling in life more especially than for other callings. Try and find out what it is, and then put your whole energy into it.

Before Harry Vane could well speak, he would leap and crow at the sight of his boat. I mean a little toy boat, as large as your hand, which had been given him. Every other toy was thrust aside for this darling plaything. He was six years old when Mr and Mrs Vane went to spend a month or two at the sea-side, and there he saw real boats, real ships, and the sight excited him to intense joy. His nurse reproached him with having "gone mad" after them, and grew sick and tired with her constant visits to the beach and the harbour, for he was ever dragging her there. He contrived, child though he was, to pick up the names applied by sailors

to the different parts of a ship: the jib-boom, the mainstays, the mizen-mast, the fo'castle, and all the rest; and he was for ever using them. His whole talk was of a ship. Mrs Vane found the names unintelligible, and told him they sounded vulgar: Mr Vane laughed, and wondered how the boy picked them up.

One day there arose a sad state of excitement. Harry was lost. The nurse, with the three children, Frederick, Caroline, and Harry, had gone to the beach, where she speedily amused herself gossiping with other nurses, nurse fashion, while the children, joined by other children, hunted after sea-shells, and dug holes in the sands. When the time came to collect them for home, Harry had disappeared. Where was he? Nobody knew; nobody had seen him go away. The nurse was in a dreadful state of terror: she feared he might have run after the receding tide, and had got drowned in the sea. The bevy of nurses ran about wildly; the children sobbed; and some fishermen, who were standing near, asked the nurse if they should get the drags. To go home with her tale to Mr and Mrs Vane was the worst task that servant had been put to throughout her life.

Mr Vane, to whom she spoke first, was not greatly alarmed. He did not deem it probable that an active lad like Harry should let himself be drowned in silence; and remembering his passion for ships, he thought it much more likely that he had found his way to the harbour. Charging the nurse to say nothing to her mistress, he hastened to the harbour; and there was the truant found, having strayed on to a ship. It was a trading sloop, which had put in the previous night; and Harry was asking question after question, as he exa