The philosophy we learn from books makes but a faint impression upon the mind, in comparison with that which we are taught by our own experience; and we sometimes feel surprised to find that what we have been taught as maxims of morality prove true in real life. After having had, for many years, the fullest opportunities of judging of the value of riches, when I reflected upon my past life, I perceived that their power of conferring happiness is limited, nearly as the philosophic poet describes; that all the changes and modifications of luxury must, in the sum of actual physical enjoyment, be reduced to a few elementary pleasures, of which the industrious poor can obtain their share: a small share, perhaps; but then it is enjoyed with a zest that makes it equal in value perhaps to the largest portion offered to the sated palate of ennui. These truths are as old as the world; but they appeared quite new to me, when I discovered them by my own experience. During the month which I had allowed to my foster-brother for reflection, I had leisure to philosophize, and my understanding made a rapid progress. I foresaw the probability of Christy’s deciding to become Earl of Glenthorn; notwithstanding that his good sense had so clearly demonstrated to him in theory, that, with his education and habits, he must be happier working in his forge than he could be as lord of Glenthorn Castle. I was not dismayed by the idea of losing my wealth and rank; I was pleased with myself for my honest conduct, and conscious of a degree of pleasure from my own approbation, superior to what my riches had ever procured. The day appointed for Christy’s final determination arrived. I knew by the first motion of his shoulder as he came into the room, what his decision would be. “Well, Christy,” said I, “you will be Earl of Glenthorn, I perceive. You are glad now that I did not take you at your word, and that I gave you a month’s time for consideration.” “Your honour was always considerate; but if I’d wish now to be changing my mind,” said he, hesitating, and shifting from leg to leg, “it is not upon my own account, any way, but upon my son Johnny’s.” “My good friend,” said I, “no apology is necessary. I should be very unjust if I were offended by your decision, and very mean if, after the declarations I have made, I could, for an instant, hesitate to restore to you that property which it is your right and your choice to reclaim.” Christy made a low bow, and seemed much at a loss what he was to say next. “I hope,” continued I, “that you will be as happy when you are Earl of Glenthorn, as you have been as Christy O’Donoghoe.”