He is very curious in his questions relative to my two pupils, who are his favourites. “It is all in good time yet,” observed he, “but we must be careful not to neglect our blessings. My grandson, Jerry, is a fine boy, and little William very active and promising. Their mother is an excellent _nurse_, and Mrs. Maclairn was quite surprised at seeing her a notable housewife. She has been favoured, Mr. Montrose. There is a curate and his wife near them, that are invaluable to these young people; and I will take care that their goodness shall not be lost. But poor Lydia must not be trusted with my boys too long. Happily she promises to be a “fruitful vine.” So the nursing will be transferred. I mean to give my children a _good education_, Mr. Montrose. It shall not be my fault, if they lack knowledge. I cannot reproach myself with having wilfully neglected my duty; but with a more enlarged knowledge I might have performed it better, and shunned many errors in conduct. I have, of late, been of opinion, that I had, in common with other men better instructed, a capacity that might have been improved by learning; and I will tell you the reason for this seeming presumption,” added he, suddenly stopping and facing me; “it is this: that, although I cannot talk, nor argue like you, and our friends within, yet I very often comprehend the drift of your discourse, and am entertained by your debates.” Before I could make any answer to this observation, Mr. Hardcastle called him, and reminded him of the dampness of the evening, adding, that he was waited for at the loo-table. He nodded in sign of obedience, and said to me, “you may think I am vain, but I must tell you, that I perceive what has brought _pam_ into favour here; I see all the kindness of their good hearts! It is well for me that I know that my debts of gratitude will be discharged in full by One who is able to pay them.” He entered the house, and with bustling cheerfulness claimed his privilege of sitting next Mrs. Hardcastle. Should these touches of my pencil be judged injurious to a portrait already so faithfully delineated by a more skillful hand, I have only to request the censurer to place the mistake, and others as glaring, to my account, and to separate them from the labours of a copyist, whose sole merit is confined to a diligent and honest purpose; and whose simplicity of heart has, in the presence of the unlearned Mr. Serge, a hundred times pronounced, that learning would not have added one line to his stature. “An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”