ounty judge of Cheshire, and now makes his home in the quaint old
town of Chester, the county seat. He is verging on the limit of that
threescore and ten which the Psalmist allotted as the measure of
human life. Few men in our day can look back over a busier or more
fruitful career. The awkward and timid boy has shown the world what
rare force of self-conquest, of persevering growth, of grappling with
difficulties, and of successful achievement was to come out of that
unpromising beginning. Because of this, we are all debtors to the
author of "Tom Brown"; not only for his books, but still more because
we see that these books are the frank expression of a brave, earnest,
and untiring spirit.

D. H. M.

TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS.

_PART I._

CHAPTER I.

THE BROWN FAMILY.

"I'm the Poet of White Horse Vale, sir,
With liberal notions under my cap."--_Ballad._

The Browns have become illustrious by the pen of Thackeray and the
pencil of Doyle,[1] within the memory of the young gentlemen who are
now matriculating[2] at the universities. Notwithstanding the
well-merited but late fame which has now fallen upon them, any one at
all acquainted with the family must feel that much has yet to be
written and said before the British nation will be properly sensible
of how much of its greatness it owes to the Browns. For centuries, in
their quiet, dogged, homespun way, they have been subduing the earth
in most English counties, and leaving their mark in American forests
and Australian uplands. Wherever the fleets and armies of England have
won renown, there stalwart sons of the Browns have done yeomen's[3]
work. With the yew bow and cloth-yard shaft[4] at Cressy and
Agincourt[5]--with the brown bill[6] and pike under the brave Lord
Willoughby--with culverin and demi-culverin[7] against Spaniards and
Dutchmen--with hand-grenade[8] and sabre, and musket and bayonet,
under Rodney[9] and St. Vincent, Wolfe and Moore, Nelson and
Wellington, they have carried their lives in their hands; getting hard
knocks and hard work in plenty, which was, on the whole, what they
looked for, and the best thing for them; and little praise or pudding,
which indeed they, and most of us, are better without. Talbots[10]
and Stanleys, St. Maurs, and such-like folk have led armies and made
laws time out of mind; but those noble families would be somewhat
astounded--if th