From infancy, or, in any case, as far back as his memory would go, Milner was animated by a strong affection for his elder brother, author of the well-known “Church History,” who, in pursuance of their sensible parents’ laudable resolution, had been placed at the grammar-school of the town. Doubtless, by one so closely united to him in bonds of tenderness and relationship, the future dean would in childhood be taught to read, and inspired with that restless and singular love of knowledge which rendered him, in later days, so peculiarly eager and ardent in the pursuit, acquisition, and investigation of any subject which circumstances brought under his notice or chance cast in his way, no matter how unconnected ordinary mortals might deem it with the regular duties and avocations pertaining to the station he occupied. The elder brother, originally intended to pursue his father’s trade, soon became so distinguished in the school, that one of the teachers was in the habit of recommending his pupils to apply to Joseph Milner’s memory in regard to questions of history and mythology, observing that he was more easily consulted than dictionaries, or the Pantheon, and quite as much to be relied on. The natives of the hamlet speedily began to gaze at him as a “marvelous boy,” and testified their respect by calling him “the learned lad.” Nor at the fireside of the family cottage did he lack encouragement. The earnest artisan manifested the utmost desire that the young scholar should have every aid within their reach to promote his improvement in learning, and one Saturday night astonished the little circle by the tidings that he had just spent the money which ought to have purchased a joint of meat on a Greek book for his son, being unable to procure both out of the slender earnings of the week. The brothers forced their way together through great difficulties; each arrived at distinction in his sphere of labor; and perhaps few more pleasing instances of brotherly love continuing could be cited than that which they, from first to last, exhibited. As early as his sixth year, little Isaac was led by the hand of his future benefactor to school, whither he continued to trudge daily for some years under the same guidance and protection. His progress in juvenile studies was most rapid and satisfactory: he soon learned to translate Ovid and Sallust with tolerable correctness; and he, in due time, commenced taking lessons in Greek, under auspices which must have delighted his father’s heart, and tempted his imagination, however calm, to indulge in visions of a golden future for the hopeful boy.