It is a little queer that this name should have been given to the family of a man, who, in his time, forged heavier pieces of iron than had ever been forged before, and, indeed, invented the machinery by which this should be done. The old Scotch family had for a motto the words "Non arte, sed Marte." With a very just pride, James Nasmyth has changed the motto, and made it "Non Marte, sed arte." That is, while they said, "Not by art, but by war," this man, who has done more work for the world, directly or indirectly, than any of Aladdin's genii, says, "Not by war, but by art." Hester was well pleased that their old friend justified her enthusiasm so entirely. He and she began dipping into her copy and his copy of the biography, which is one of the most interesting books of our time. JAMES NASMYTH. My grandfather, Michael Naesmyth, like his father and grandfather, was a builder and architect. The buildings he designed and erected for the Scotch nobility and gentry were well arranged, carefully executed, and thoroughly substantial. I remember my father pointing out to me the extreme care and attention with which he finished his buildings. He inserted small fragments of basalt into the mortar of the external joints of the stones, at close and regular distances, in order to protect the mortar from the adverse action of the weather; and to this day they give proof of their efficiency. The excellence of my grandfather's workmanship was a thing that my own father impressed upon me when a boy. It stimulated in me the desire to aim at excellence in everything that I undertook, and in all practical matters to arrive at the highest degree of good workmanship. I believe that these early lessons had a great influence upon my future career. My father, Alexander Nasmyth, was the second son of Michael Nasmyth. He was born in his father's house in the Grassmarket, on the 9th of September, 1758. I have not much to say about my father's education. For the most part he was his own schoolmaster. I have heard him say that his mother taught him his A B C, and that he afterward learned to read at Mammy Smith's. This old lady kept a school for boys and girls at the top of a house in the Grassmarket. There my father was taught to read his Bible and to learn his Carritch (the Shorter Catechism). My father's profession was that of a portrait-painter, to begin with; but later he devoted himself to landscape-painting. But he did not confine himself to this pursuit. He was an all-round man, with something of the universal about him. He was a painter, an architect, and a mechanic. Above all, he was an incessantly industrious man.