ld might have appeared likely to induce a languid acquiescence in
his parent's wish, the love of drawing occupied every leisure hour, and
at last trespassed upon every other occupation. Reproofs were
affectionately repeated, and every effort made to dissuade the boy from
what was considered an "idle amusement," but it was soon discovered that
opposition was unavailing, and the attachment too strong to be checked.
It might perhaps have been otherwise, but for some rays of encouragement
received from the observant kindness of his first schoolmaster. To watch
the direction of the little hand when it wandered from its task, to draw
the culprit to him with a smile instead of a reproof, to set him on the
high stool beside his desk, and stimulate him, by the loan of his own
pen, to a more patient and elaborate study of the child's usual subject,
his favorite cat, was a modification of preceptorial care as easy as it
was wise; but it perhaps had more influence on the mind and after-life
of the boy than all the rest of his education together.

138. Such happy though rare interludes in school-hours, and occasional
attempts at home, usually from the carts and horses which stopped at a
public-house opposite, began the studentship of the young artist before
he had quitted his pinafore. An unhappy accident which happened about
the same time, and which farther enfeebled his health, rendered it still
less advisable to interfere with his beloved occupation. We have heard
the painter express, with a melancholy smile, the distinct recollection
remaining with him to this day, of a burning autumn morning, on which he
had sallied forth alone, himself some four autumns old, armed with a
hooked stick, to gather nuts. Unrestrainable alike with pencil or crook,
he was found by a farmer, towards the close of the day, lying moaning
under a hedge, prostrated by a sunstroke, and was brought home
insensible. From that day forward he was subject to attacks of violent
pain in the head, recurring at short intervals; and until thirty years
after marriage not a week passed without one or two days of absolute
confinement to his room or to his bed. "Up to this hour," we may perhaps
be permitted to use his own touching words, "I have to endure a great
fight of afflictions; can I therefore be sufficiently thankful for the
merciful gift of a buoyant spirit?"

139. That buoyancy of spirit--one of the brightest and most marked
elements of his character--never fa