"But to return to Mr. Flam. He passed through the usual course of education, but has profited so little by it, that though he has a certain natural shrewdness in his understanding, I believe he has scarcely read a book these twenty years, except Burn's 'Justice' and 'The Agricultural Reports.' Yet when he wants to make a figure, he now and then lards his discourse with a scrap of thread-bare Latin which he used to steal in his school-boy exercises. He values himself on his integrity, and is not destitute of benevolence. These, he says, are the sum and substance of religion; and though I combat this mistaken notion as often as he puts it in my power, yet I must say that some who make more profession would do well to be as careful in these points. He often contrasts himself with his old friend Ned Tyrrel, and is proud of showing how much better a man he is without religion than Ned is with all his pretensions to it. It is by thus comparing ourselves with worse men that we grow vain, and with more fortunate men that we become discontented. "All the concern he gives himself about his wife and daughters is, that they shall not run him in debt; and, indeed, he is so liberal that he does not drive them to the necessity. In every thing else, they follow their own devices. They teased him, however, to let them spend two or three winters in town, the mother hinting _that it would answer_. He was prevailed on to try it as a speculation, but the experiment failed. He now insists that they shall go no more, till the times mend, to any of the advertising places, such as London, Brighton, or Bath; he says that attending so many fairs and markets is very expensive, especially as the girls don't go off. He will now see what can be done by private contract at home, without the cost of journeys, with fresh keep and trimming and docking into the bargain. They must now take their chance among country dealers; and provided they will give him a son-in-law, whose estate is free from incumbrances, who pays his debts, lives within his income, does not rack his tenants, never drinks claret, hates the French, and loves field sports, he will ask no more questions." I could not but observe how preferable the father's conduct, with all its faults, was to that of the rest of the family. "I had imagined," said I, "that this coarse character was quite out of print. Though it is religiously bad, and of course morally defective, yet it is so politically valuable that I should not be sorry to see a new edition of these obsolete squires, somewhat corrected, and better lettered."