This curious league of the brothers was due to many causes. From childhood they had been steadily trained up in it by their parents. They had long lived all together under the same roof. The eldest son, who left home at an earlier age than any of the rest, did not finally quit it till he was six-and-twenty. Each had a thorough knowledge of the character of all the rest, and this knowledge resulted in thorough trust. They had all come to have a remarkable agreement on most points—not only of principle, but also of practice. The habits of one, with but few exceptions, were the habits of all. He who had ascertained what one brother thought on any question would not have been likely to go wrong, had he acted on the supposition that he knew what was thought by all. They were all full of high aims—all bent on “the accomplishment of things permanently great and good.” There was no room in their minds for the petty thoughts of jealous spirits. Each had that breadth of view which enables a man to rise above all selfish considerations. Each had been brought up to consider the good of his family rather than his own peculiar good, and to look upon the good of mankind as still higher than the good of his family. Each was deeply convinced of the great truth which Priestley had discovered, and Bentham had advocated—that the object of all government, and of all social institutions, should be the greatest happiness of the greatest number for the greatest length of time. In their youth their aims were often visionary; but they were always high and noble. If they were daring enough to attempt to improve mankind, they were, at all events, wise enough to begin their task by setting about to improve themselves. One of the brothers had by nature a hot temper. He was, as a boy, “jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel.” He was the first of them “deliberately and seriously to adopt the maxim which treats all anger as folly.... Having arrived at a principle, and that while yet a youth, he strove earnestly, and with great success, to reduce it to practice.” Certainly his latter years were all placidity. Another brother had convinced himself “that men become what they are, not of themselves, but by birth, education, fellowship, and other such influences; and, therefore, he regarded the slightest approach to vindictive feeling as both wrong and foolish.” Whatever wrongs he has suffered through life—and he has had his share—he has never suffered the pure benevolence of his soul to be for one moment clouded over by resentment. In truth, they all, at all times, with set purpose, aimed at placing themselves under the guidance of reason. They had all been trained by their father from their earliest years to reason, and to reason not for victory but for truth. As the family day by day gathered for its meals—meals of the most frugal kind, where, for many years, nothing stronger than water was drunk—there was often held a debate on—