his hours of study in surveying a small pocket mirror, and in arranging the curls of his rich black hair, the ambrosial plenty of which was festooned about his temples, and fell profusely behind his head. Almost all the French West Indians were vain, foppish, generous, brave and passionate. They exhibited many of the qualities which we ascribe to the natives of our own islands in the American archipelago; they were a sort of Gallican Belcours in little; for, with the national attributes of their forefathers, they united much of that vehemence and habit of domination which a hot sun and West Indian overseership are calculated to produce. In general, the children of the French exiles amalgamated readily with these Creoles. There were, to be sure, some points of substantial difference; the French West Indians being all rich roturiers, and the little emigrants having their veins full of the best blood of France without a groat in their pockets. But there was one point of reconciliation between them-they all concurred in hating England and its government. This detestation was not very surprising in the West Indian French; but it was not a little singular that the boys whose fathers had been expelled from France by the Revolution, and to whom England had afforded shelter and given

bread, should manifest the ancient national antipathy as strongly as if they had never been nursed at her bosom, and obtained their aliment from her bounty. Whenever news arrived of a victory won by Buonaparte, the whole school was thrown into a ferment; and I cannot, even at this distance of time, forget the exultation with which the sons of the decapitated or exiled hailed the triumph of the French arms, the humiliation of England, and the glory of the nation whose greatness they had learned to lisp.. Old gentlemen, the neatness of whose attire was accompanied by indications of indigence, used occasionally to visit at Kensington House. Their elasticity of back, the frequency and gracefulness of their well-regulated bows, and the perpetual smile upon their wrinkled and emaciated faces, showed that they had something to do with the vieille cour; and this conjecture used to be confirmed by the embrace with which they folded the little marquises and counts whom they came to visit.

I recollect, upon one occasion, having been witness to a very remarkable scene. Monsieur, as he was then called (Charles X.), waited one day, with a large retinue of French nobility, upon the Prince de Broglie. The whole body of the school-boys was assembled to

receive them. We were gathered in a circle at the bottom of a flight of stone stairs that led from the principal room into the play-ground. The future King of France appeared, with his cortège of illustrious exiles, at the glass folding-doors which were at the top of the stairs, and the moment he was seen we all exclaimed, with a shrill shout of beardless loyalty, 'Vive le Roi! Monsieur seemed greatly gratified by this spectacle, and, in a very gracious and condescending manner, went down amongst the little boys, who were at first awed a good deal by his presence, but were afterwards speedily familiarized to him by the natural benignity of Charles the Tenth. He asked the names of those who were about him, and when he heard them, and saw in the boys by whom he was encompassed the descendants of some of the noblest families of France, he seemed to be sensibly affected. One or two names which were associated with peculiarly melancholy recollections, made him thrill; 'Helas! mon enfant!' he used to say, as some orphan was brought up to him; and he would then lean down to caress the child of a friend who had perished on the scaffold of the Revolution."* The pupils, though chiefly, were not, indeed, alto*Schoolboy Recollections, &c.

VOL. I.

gether of French origin. In the want of places of elementary instruction which then existed in Ireland for the sons of the wealthier classes of the Catholics, many parents were disposed to avail themselves of the advantages held forth by the school at Kensington. One of its earliest pupils was Thomas Kenny, the son of a gentleman residing in Galway, with whom young Sheil contracted a boyish friendship which the difference of their pursuits in after life did not efface from the memory of either. He was, according to Mr. Kenny, at this time a strange, wayward boy, careless and slovenly in dress, and very imperfectly educated. Another of his companions in these school days was Christopher Fitzsimon, with whom he was afterwards associated in public life, and who for many years represented the county of Dublin in Parliament. Mr. Fitzsimon remembers his early quickness of parts and kindliness of disposition. He seemed to be impressed, he says, with strong devotional feelings. These sentiments were no doubt strengthened by the care and kindness shown him during his stay at Kensington by one of whom he has himself left the following grateful reminiscences :—

"M. Molinari, a Genoese, was an exceedingly kind, amiable, and well-informed man. He was the only

one in the whole school that knew a word of Greek. He had been educated, though an Italian, at Prague, and practised as a lawyer. He then became a Jesuit, and was certainly sincerely devoted to religion. Though entirely free from monkish gloom, there was a large infusion of fanaticism in his character. He believed firmly in witchcraft, and was versed in all the mysteries of demonology. Another point

...

on which he was a little weak was the influence of the Illuminés in Germany. He improved on Barruel, which was his manual, and regarded Waishoupt as an incarnate fiend. . . . . But with the exception of these strange credulities, he was a most estimable man. He had an heroical disinterestedness of character, and dedicated himself with all the ardour of spiritual chivalry to the cause of the Jesuits, which he regarded as identified with that of true religion. I was a considerable time placed under his care, and am indebted to him for a zealous solicitude for my welfare. He took the greatest and most disinterested pains in giving me instruction, and would devote hours of unremunerated labour (for the salaries of the boys were all paid in to M. le Prince) to the explanation of difficulties, and in clearing the way to knowledge.

Severity towards his pupils he considered a