Added to these, as well as all the other moral virtues, this excellent woman practised the most pious and scrupulous attention to her religious duties. Her motto was "Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others shew, That mercy shew to me." While my mother was instilling into my mind, and teaching me to practice, the mild and lowly principles of Christianity, my father never failed to hold up for my admiration and example, the exploits of the noble, generous, brave, and renowned heroes of antiquity. Pope was his favourite author; and of all Pope's works, his Universal Prayer, and his Translation of Homer, were the theme of his never-ceasing and unqualified panegyric. The former he never failed to repeat aloud, night and morning, in the most fervent and impassioned manner. He made me learn it, and recommended me to follow his example, by making it the daily expression of my praise and adoration of the Allwise and Supreme Disposer of events. He could repeat every line of the Iliad; and, what was more remarkable, he could begin at any one line and proceed with the greatest fluency and correctness, even to the end of any chapter or book. In short, he endeavoured to instil into my breast the _patriotic principle of disinterested love of country_. Although he was himself a man of business and of the world, he never failed to hold up for my example, those heroes who had lived and died alone for their country. Hector was his favourite warrior, and he appeared to have obtained the dearest wish of his heart when, coming into my room by accident one day, he found me reading aloud, and repeating the speech of Hector to Andromache. I was taken by surprise, and laid down the book; but he entreated me to continue the subject, and to oblige him I began the dialogue again, and he repeated the part of Andromache. Although heretofore a very shy boy, I now became warm, and at length impassioned; he encouraged me, and before we had concluded I almost fancied myself a hero. He was delighted; he took me in his arms, he embraced and caressed me; he saw that I had caught the "_electric spark_;" he wept over me with rapture, and he exclaimed aloud, in a sort of frantic extacy, "The name of HUNT will again be recorded in the page of history, and I feel that you, my dear boy, are destined to restore the fame of our family; and I hope to live to see you prove yourself worthy of your ancestors."