I have, you see, only attempted here to give you a loose sketch of my ground plan. You must ask specific questions, to which you shall have the best replies in my power to give: but if I go on tacking my thoughts together _generally_ upon the subject of education, I may be giving you what you do not want. Tell me, then, all your difficulties as they arise, and as far as my experience can remove them you may rely upon my inclination to assist your virtuous resolution of supplying a parent's place to your poor brother's orphans. The many volumes devoted to the subject of education are frequently written by people who have, like the spider, spun out the web of their theories from within, and then applied those tissues to creatures of their own imagination, fitting and conforming the one to the other as nicely as Cinderella's slipper was found to suit the princess for whose foot it had been made. Such books remind me of a fine contrivance which should be devised with mathematical precision by one wholly unacquainted with practical operations. The machine is set going, and the influence of friction alone, upon which our philosopher had never calculated in his closet, is sufficient to overset the entire speculation. I must now employ the remainder of my paper in mentioning the arrival of my nephew Arthur Howard. His health is far from being robust: but I flatter myself _already_ that our balmy breezes from the sea, and fragrant gales from the heath-covered mountains, which nearly surround this little glen, have been of use to him. Nothing could be more delightful to my heart than his perfect recovery, if I might hope that, with renewed health, he were to inhale amongst us some better notions (for I cannot dignify his nonsense with the title of _opinions_) than the silly society of his poor mother, and those vapid votaries of fashion with whom her hours are passed, have infused into his youthful mind. Arthur is not more than twenty, and has so good an understanding, combined with a remarkably open, candid nature, that I cannot bear to think of his being misled by vanity and folly. He is very engaging, though in the high road to be spoiled, if we cannot, by some necromancy, contrive to make him love our peaceful pleasures at Glenalta.