"Because nothing can be wise that is not practical," returned father, "and I teach my children philosophie to fitt them for living in y^e world, not above it. One may spend a life in dreaming over Plato, and yet goe out of it without leaving y^e world a whit y^e better for our having made part of it. 'Tis to little purpose we studdy, if it onlie makes us look for perfections in others which they may in vayn seek for in ourselves. It is not even necessary or goode for us to live entirelie with congeniall spiritts. The vigourous tempers the inert, the passionate is evened by the cool-tempered, the prosaic balances the visionarie. Woulde thy mother suit me better, dost thou suppose, if she coulde discuss polemicks like Luther or Melancthon? E'en thine owne sweet mother, Meg, was less affected to study than thou art--she learnt to love it for my sake, but I made her what she was." And, with a suddain burste of fond recollection, he hid his eyes on my shoulder, and for a moment or soe, cried bitterlie. As for me, I shed, oh! such salt teares!... FOOTNOTE: [2] Continued from the May Number. THE PEARL-DIVERS. At the commencement of the last year's fishery, there was a man whom, go wherever I would, I was always certain to meet. Like myself, he was a diver, and like myself moreover, he pretended to have no surname, but went simply by the name of Rafael. At the cleansing-trough, beneath the surface of the sea, no matter where it was, we were always thrown together, so that we quickly became intimate; and his remarkable skill as a diver had inspired me with considerable esteem for him. Alike courageous as skillful, he snapped his fingers at the sharks, declaring his power to intimidate them by a particular expression of the eye. In fine, he was a fearless diver, an industrious workman, and, above all, a most jovial comrade. Matters went smoothly enough between us, till the day when a girl and her mother took up their abode at the island Espiritu Sante.[3] Some business that I had to transact with the dealers in this island afforded me an opportunity of seeing her. I fell desperately in love; and as I enjoyed a certain amount of reputation, neither she nor her mother looked with an unfavorable eye on my suit or my presents. When the day's work was over, and every body supposed me asleep in my hut, I swam across to the island, whence I returned about an hour after midnight without my absence being at all surmised. Some days had elapsed since my first nocturnal visit to Espiritu Sante, when, as I was one morning going to the fishery just before daybreak, I met one of those old crones who pretend to be able to charm the sharks by their spells. She was seated near my hut, and appeared to be watching my arrival. As she perceived me, she exclaimed, "How fares it with my son, José Juan?"