"Silence in the heart For thought to do her part,"
and which are not without their charm even to him "who whistles as he goes for _want_ of thought." No wonder, then, if Yverdun seemed Paradisaical in its landscapes. Nor was this all. If the views outside were charming, our domestic and social relations within doors were not less pleasing. At first, the unwelcome vision of the _late_ head-master would sometimes haunt us, clad in his flowing black D.D. robes--"tristis severitas in vultu, atque in verbis fides," looking as if he intended to flog, and his words never belying his looks. That terrible Olympian arm, raised and ready to strike, was again shadowed forth to view; while we could almost fancy ourselves once more at that judicial table, one of twenty boys who were to draw lots for a "hander." How soothingly, then, came the pleasing consciousness, breaking our reverie, that a very different person was _now_ our head-master--a most indulgent old man whom we should meet ere long, with hands uplifted, indeed, but only for the purpose of clutching us tight while he inflicted a salute on both cheeks, and pronounced his affectionate _guten morgen, liebes kind_, as he hastened on to bestow the like fatherly greeting upon every pupil in turn.