From the evening of the birth of Lady L.'s babies, it was evident that our hero, though not yet seven years old, no longer thought himself little. He assumed a manly air and carriage, and could not bear the idea of being suspected of wanting assistance or protection. He, indeed, was always ready to give his assistance, if one of the babies stretched a little hand for any thing, or his protection, if the bark of a dog, the sight of a stranger, or any such awful occurrence, alarmed either of them; or his soothings, if they cried. He would no longer hold by any one's hand in walking, but would step out in front of the nursery party, with quite a proud air, looking over his shoulder, from time to time, and telling the nurses that he was going first, to see that there was nothing there to hurt the babies. He often asked if they would ever be as big as he was; and always kept alive, by perpetual inquiries, and additional caresses, a perfect recollection of the identity of the eldest baby--the one that had been held across his arms, the evening it was born; and which, at the moment it seemed to clasp his finger, had awakened in his little breast the first emotion of tenderness, that was not accompanied by that almost awe-inspiring feeling--a grateful looking up, as from an immeasurable distance, to beings, in whose love and protection he himself sought shelter. The partiality evinced by Mr. Jackson for our hero, on the day of the christening, encouraged Mrs. Montgomery to put in immediate execution a plan which Lady L. and herself had been for some time meditating; namely, to request that gentleman to undertake the education of Edmund, till he was of an age to be sent to the Naval College. Mr. Jackson was eminently fitted for the task of instructing youth. He had been a fellow of one of the universities, and distinguished both for his learning and his talents.