to him, said, "Pray my good friend, what may be the subject of your cogitations?"

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"I was thinking of you, Marten," said Henry. "Of me!" said Marten; no wonder then that your meditations should be so interesting, as to have power to abstract you from all that is passing about you; but, what were you thinking of respecting me?"

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'What, if I were to tell you, might not give you much pleasure to hear,” replied Henry.

Marten reddened, and said, "Will you favour me, by giving me the result of your lucubrations ?"

"If you really wish it, I will," replied Henry.

"To be sure, I do," returned Martin; at the same time betraying something like pique in the tone of his voice.

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I shall offend you," remarked Henry.

"Not at all," said Marten; but the glow in his cheeks gave the lie to his assertions.

"Well then," said Henry, "I have been thinking that you are by no means that perfect gentleman, Marten, that a stranger would suppose you to be."

"Indeed!" returned Marten, whom Henry had wounded in the most vulnerable part; "and pray Master Milner, wherein do I fail in those points necessary to the character of a gentleman ?”

"You will be offended, I see Marten," said Henry; "I shall therefore say no more.

"Offended!" returned Marten, scornfully, "and by you, a boy of fourteen!-and on a subject of this kindand he tried to force a laugh.

Henry, as I before said, had a book in his hand; and, he turned his eyes to it, and began to read, saying, “Marten, I shall add no more; for you are not in a disposition to hear me."

Marten stood a while, looking at Henry with as much scorn as he could throw into his face, and then swinging round, and addressing himself to young Wellings, who was at no great distance, he said, in such a tone as Henry could not but hear, "What was that you were saying just now I am at liberty to hear you now."

The two young men, as they would perhaps have called themselves, or great boys, as some others might be disposed to consider them, took several turns up and down the hall, arm in arm, and in close confabulation.

Henry for a monent almost repented of having gone

so far with Marten; and then again he thought that he had only attempted to do what was right, and if he had not succeeded it was not his fault. He therefore resolved not to make himself uneasy, but to give his mind to his book, which was no other than the History of Robinson Crusoe.

Marten's spirit kept him up till dinner-time, and carried him through the school hours in the afternoon, but, immediately before supper, while passing from the school-room to the hall, Henry felt some one slip his arm through his, and turning to look, he saw his friend Marten, who said, " Well, Henry, how do you like these rainy days?"

"I happen to like the rain to-day," replied Henry, "because I have just met with my old friend Robinson Crusoe."

As they entered the hall, Marten led towards a deep recess in one of the windows, and there seating himself, "Now, Master Milner, tell me," he said, "why you don't think me a gentleman ?"-and the young man smiled as he asked the question, with a blended expression of humility and gentleness, which added a new lustre to his countenance.

"Shall I be plain with you, Marten?" asked Henry. "Yes," said Marten.

"And you will not be offended again?"

"Not if I can help it," replied the other.

"Then I will be sincere," said Henry; and he stated to his friend, without farther preamble, all those thoughts respecting him which had occupied his thoughts in the morning.

While Henry continued to speak, the countenance of Marten became more and more serious, and resentment seemed to struggle hard within his breast with other and better feelings; he was, however, so far enabled to command himself, that he did not leave Henry as before; although his voice bespoke strong agitation as he put the following question.

"And pray, sir, what is your idea of the character of a gentleman, since you do not allow me to be one?" "I will answer you in the words of my uncle," said Henry, "which must be better than my own: he is the truest gentleman whose character approaches most nearly to that of the Saviour when on earth. Mr. Dalben," added Henry, "says that our Saviour, when in

the flesh, supplied the finest and most perfect example of truly dignified and courteous manners which ever was displayed before the eyes of man."

Marten looked up at Henry with a searching eye, and then looked down again, at the same time saying, Well, sir, proceed."

"Sir!" repeated Henry, "why do you call me sir, Marten ?"

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Because," replied Marten, "I don't know what to take you for; you look indeed like Henry Milner, but you do not speak like a school-boy."

"Because I am not speaking my own words,” said Henry, with simplicity; “if I were to do so, you would not call me sir."

Martin gave Henry another piercing look, and then remarked, "He that called you a fool, Milner, was strangely mistaken."

"I am glad of it," said Henry,

"Glad of what?" asked Marten.

"That he was mistaken," returned Henry.

"But don't you wish to know his name?" said Marten.

"No," replied Henry; "because curiosity of this kind is not gentlemanlike.”

"Whose words are you speaking now, Milner ?" said Marten.

"Mr. Dalben's,” replied Henry; "he did not indeed say that low curiosity is not gentlemanlike; but he said it was not Christianlike, and that, you know, is all the

same.

"That's what I don't know," said Marten; " some of the vulgarest people I ever saw in my life were the best Christians."

"I have not happened to meet with any very vulgar people whom I thought first-rate Christians," returned Henry: "for I think it is the very nature of religion to make people avoid all that is mean, coarse, and low; for example, it makes people hate such conversation as passes every night in our room, and which I still maintain that no one like a true gentleman can delight

in."

"But I don't delight in their offensive jests," said Marten.

"You don't reprove them, Marten," said Henry; "and not because you are afraid, for you can censure a

vulgar habit or an awkward action as severely as any one; but because, I fear, that you do not cordially hate these things, and hence I have ventured to think that you are not the perfect gentleman you would wish to have it supposed."

Well, now you have spoken your whole mind, I hope," said Marten.

"Not quite," returned Henry; "but I have said a great deal, and I beg your pardon for the liberty I have taken; but if you could but know how often I have blamed myself for not dealing faithfully with you on this subject, you would forgive me."

"Forgive you," replied Martin, "yes, I believe that I forgive you; that is, I don't think the matter worth resentment;" and the young man started up, looked at his watch, and saying he was to be at the study at five, hastened out of the room.

As Marten, after having been in the study with his tutor for nearly an hour, was asked to tea and supper in the parlour, Henry did not see him again till he was in bed; he had in the meantime made these reflections: perhaps in one respect I have blamed Marten harshly; I have never yet reproved the very free conversation, which I hear continually, in a manner sufficiently decisive to be sure I have not the influence in the school which Marten has; I am much younger than he is, and liable to be beaten by almost any one of the boys in the first class, and some in the second; but I ought to have run this risk and done what I could, and I will take the very first opportunity of doing so-neither had he long to wait for this opportunity. The boys of the first class had been that day studying the odes of a very celebrated Roman poet; and whereas the word of God is known to have a very peculiar influence in purifying the imagination; on the contrary, the writings of the heathens, unless most carefully selected, are well known to have a very different effect: it was not therefore to be wondered at if the study of the morning had suggested some ideas to the boys, on which they failed not to enlarge in the privacy of their own sleeping-room, in a manner which speedily supplied an opportunity for Henry's Christian courage. Neither did he fail on the trial; for he no sooner heard these matters brought forward than he boldly expressed his opinion of them, and blamed himself for not having more boldly reproved

conversations of this kind at an earlier period of his residence at school.

The astonishment which the boys felt at being thus addressed, seemed for a few minutes to strike silence on every tongue; but he had scarcely ceased to speak, when young Wellings exclaimed, "Well said, thou second Solomon; come, let us hear it again, give us the second part of your sermon, my young parson.'

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I'll tell you what," said Roger, "I have a very great mind to break every bone of your skin."

"Or what do you say," asked another great boy, "to tossing him in a blanket; Smith, Wellings, and Thomson, lend your help, and we will tilt him up to the cockloft in a trice."

A blanket was then immediately snatched from one of the beds and laid on the floor, and Roger and Smith had already seized hold of Henry, when he calmly said, "You cannot possibly do a better thing for me, or a worse for yourselves, than to lay violent hands on me, for the thing will then surely come to Mr. Simson's ears, and then there will be no doubt whose side he will take." "What, you will complain to him, will you, you coward?" said Roger.

"I shall not complain," said Henry; "but you may be sure that some one will tell the tale, for at this mo ment I know that there are more in this room who think me right than of those who think me wrong."

Several voices at that moment exclaimed, "Let him alone, Roger; let him alone, Smith; you'll be getting yourselves into some scrape.'

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"We'll let him alone and welcome," said Roger, "if he'll let us alone; but we won't be preached to neither."

"You know that he is right, and you are wrong," said little Berresford, standing up in his bed, "and if you don't let him go I'll pick out your eyes, as the crow did those of the Gaul, in the Roman history."

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"Who cares for you," said Roger, say another word and you shall have the first turn in the blanket." "There may perhaps be two words to that bargain," exclaimed Henry, and at the same time shaking himself from the grasp of Roger, he added, "I advise you to let that little boy alone, or-"

"Or what," said Roger; "will you fight me ?" "I will defend George," said Henry.