Some very profound philosophers, who are a great deal wiser than we are or ever wish to be, are of opinion that mankind are not under very great obligations to parents, and that parents having a pleasure in doing the best they can for their offspring, and feeling a satisfaction in making all manner of sacrifices for their children, have their reward and motive in the very acts themselves, and therefore deserve no very particular thanks or expressions of gratitude. For whatsoever any one finds pleasure in doing, has not the character of virtue, or the power of binding or leading another to gratitude. So to illustrate this philosophy, we may state the matter thus. If a benefactor can truly say to the object of his benevolence or benefaction, “I thoroughly hate, and most cordially detest you; and I have not any pleasure, but rather a great deal of pain, in doing you any kind offices; and it would give me much greater satisfaction to see you starve, than to be conscious that you are enjoying any of the blessings of life;”--then the benefaction is most truly disinterested, and the recipient is bound to be truly grateful. Though we must acknowledge ourselves puzzled to know where to find such disinterested goodness; therefore, in the mean time, we will patiently put up with such benevolence as the world supplies us with; and we will explain away and apologise for any feelings of gratitude which we may entertain towards benefactors and friends, by saying, that our gratitude is not exercised towards them because they deserve it, but because we like it, and it is exceedingly pleasant to ourselves to think and speak handsomely of those who have been the means of doing us good. It is, no doubt, only on this ground that we can account for so sensible a man as Horatio Markham being grateful to his parents for the sacrifices which they had made, for the purpose of establishing him in that possession to which his taste and ambition were so strongly directed. CHAPTER VIII. “I have neither wit nor words nor worth, Action or utterance or the power of speech, To stir men’s blood. I only speak right on.” SHAKSPEARE. Now during the first day of Markham’s visit to his parents no progress had been made in the matter of business, for as yet the answers of the creditors had not been received. The elder Markham had sent off by the same post the letter to his son, and those which were destined for his creditors. That which had been sent to his son was first answered, as we have stated. On the morning, therefore, after the young man’s arrival, the coming of the postman was anxiously looked for by all three. The father, indeed, seemed more and more dejected; and ever and anon, instead of taking notice of his wife and son, he muttered to himself, “They won’t accept a composition; I am sure they won’t; it was foolish of me to expect it.”