THE VILLAGE SCHOOL.

BY RICHARD PENN SMITH.

How unstable is human opinion! In childhood we look forward to the years of maturity for the consummation of our dream of happiness; and when that period has arrived, we call up the recollections of youth, and they bloom again as spots of green in the desert.

I passed my boyhood in a village far remote from our populous cities, and the occurrences of those thoughtless days made so deep an impression, that at this distant period they retain their freshness, and doubtless will do so even to the close of life. The joys of youth take deep root in the mind and bloom for years, whether it be winter or spring with us; but the pleasures of after life are but as flowers of a season, that blossom for a day and fade, and fresh seed must be scattered before others appear.

I revisited the village not long since, after an absence of many years. It had undergone numerous changes, and, as I walked along the streets, many new faces presented themselves, and but few of the