of a few rambling details.  These, moreover, utterly trivial, and even ridiculous in themselves, assume, to my fancy, adventitious importance, as connected with a period and a locality when and where I recognize the first ambiguous monitions of the destiny which afterward so fully overshadowed me.  Let me then remember.  The house.  I have said, was old and irregular.  The grounds were extensive, and a high and solid brick wall, topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass, encompassed the whole.  The prison-like rampart formed the limit of our domain; beyond it we saw but thrice a week—­once every Saturday afternoon, when, attended by two ushers, we were permitted to take brief walks in a body through some of the neighboring fields—­and twice during Sunday, when we were paraded in the same formal manner to the morning and evening service in the one church of the village.  Of this church the principal of our school was pastor.  With how deep a spirit of wonder and perplexity was I wont to regard him from our remote pew in the gallery, as, with step solemn and slow, he ascended the pulpit!  This reverend man with countenance so demurely benign, with robes so glossy, and so clerically flowing, with wig so minutely powdered, so rigid and so vast,—­could this be he who, of late, with sour visage, and in snuffy habiliments, administered, ferule in hand, the Draconian Laws of the academy?  Oh, gigantic paradox, too utterly monstrous for solution!  At an angle of the ponderous wall frowned a more ponderous gate.  It was riveted and studded with iron bolts, and surmounted with jagged iron spikes.  What impressions of deep awe did it inspire!  It was never opened save for the three periodical egressions and ingressions already mentioned; then, in every creak of its mighty hinges, we found a plenitude of mystery—­a world of matter for solemn remark, or for more solemn meditation.  The extensive inclosure was irregular in form, having many capacious recesses.  Of these, three or four of the largest constituted the play-ground.  It was level, and covered with fine hard gravel.  I well remember it had no trees, nor benches, nor anything similar within it.  Of course it was in the rear of the house.  In front lay a small parterre, planted with box and other shrubs; but through this sacred division we passed only upon rare occasions indeed—­such as a first advent to school or final departure thence, or perhaps, when a parent or friend having called for us, we joyfully took our way home for the Christmas or Midsummer holidays.  But the house!—­how quaint an old building was this!—­to me how veritably a palace of enchantment!  There was really no end to its windings—­to its incomprehensible subdivisions.  It was difficult, at any given time, to say with certainty upon which of its two stories one happened to be.  From each room to every other there were sure to be found three or four steps either in ascent or descent.  Then the lateral branches were innumerable—­inconceivable—­and