The cruel treatment I had received from these people, had so demoralized me, that those passions,—­which under more skilful or kinder treatment, had either not been known, or would have lain dormant, were roused into full and malignant activity:  I went to school a good-hearted boy, I left it a savage.  The accident with the child occurred two days before the commencement of the vacation, and we were all dismissed on the following day in consequence.  On my return home I stated verbally to my father and mother, as I had done before by letter, that I was resolved to go to sea.  My mother wept, my father expostulated.  I gazed with apathy on the one, and listened with cold indifference to the reasoning and arguments of the other; a choice of schools was offered to me, where I might be a parlour boarder, and I was to finish at the University, if I would but give up my fatal infatuation.  Nothing, however, would do; the die was cast, and for the sea I was to prepare.

What fool was it who said that the happiest times of our lives is passed at school?  There may, indeed, be exceptions, but the remark cannot be generalized.  Stormy as has been my life, the most miserable part of it (with very little exception) was passed at school; and my mind never received so much injury from any scenes of vice and excess in after-life, as it did from the shameful treatment and bad example I met with there.  If my bosom burned with fiend-like passions, whose fault was it?  How had the sacred pledge, given by the master, been redeemed?  Was I not sacrificed to the most sordid avarice, in the first instance, and almost flayed alive in the second, to gratify revenge?  Of the filthy manner in which our food was prepared, I can only say that the bare recollection of it excites nausea; and to this hour, bread and milk, suet pudding, and shoulders of mutton, are objects of my deep-rooted aversion.  The conduct of the ushers, who were either tyrannical extortioners, or partakers in our crimes—­the constant loss of our clothes by the dishonesty or carelessness of the servants—­the purloining our silver spoons, sheets, and towels, when we went away, upon the plea of “custom”—­the charges in the account for windows which I had never broken, and books which I had never received—­the shameful difference between the annual cost promised by the master, and the sum actually charged, ought to have opened the eyes of my father.

I am aware how excellent many of these institutions are, and that there are few so bad as the one I was sent to.  The history of my life will prove of what vital importance it is to ascertain the character of the master and mistress as to other points besides teaching Greek and Latin, before a child is intrusted to their care.  I ought to have observed, that during my stay at this school, I had made some proficiency in mathematics and algebra.