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chief wish now was to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and
respectability； his means； it is true； were not very ample；
fortunate it was that his desires corresponded with them； with a
small fortune of his own； and with his half…pay as a royal soldier；
he had no fears for himself or for his faithful partner and
helpmate； but then his children！ how was he to provide for them？
how launch them upon the wide ocean of the world？ This was；
perhaps； the only thought which gave him uneasiness； and I believe
that many an old retired officer at that time； and under similar
circumstances； experienced similar anxiety； had the war continued；
their children would have been； of course； provided for in the
army； but peace now reigned； and the military career was closed to
all save the scions of the aristocracy； or those who were in some
degree connected with that privileged order； an advantage which few
of these old officers could boast of； they had slight influence
with the great； who gave themselves very little trouble either
about them or their families。
'I have been writing to the Duke；' said my father one day to my
excellent mother； after we had been at home somewhat better than a
year。 'I have been writing to the Duke of York about a commission
for that eldest boy of ours。 He； however； affords me no hopes； he
says that his list is crammed with names； and that the greater
number of the candidates have better claims than my son。'
'I do not see how that can be；' said my mother。
'Nor do I；' replied my father。 'I see the sons of bankers and
merchants gazetted every month； and I do not see what claims they
have to urge； unless they be golden ones。 However； I have not
served my king fifty years to turn grumbler at this time of life。
I suppose that the people at the head of affairs know what is most
proper and convenient； perhaps when the lad sees how difficult；
nay； how impossible it is that he should enter the army； he will
turn his mind to some other profession； I wish he may！'
'I think he has already；' said my mother； 'you see how fond he is
of the arts； of drawing and painting； and； as far as I can judge；
what he has already done is very respectable； his mind seems quite
turned that way； and I heard him say the other day that he would
sooner be a Michael Angelo than a general officer。 But you are
always talking of him； what do you think of doing with the other
child？'
'What； indeed！' said my father； 'that is a consideration which
gives me no little uneasiness。 I am afraid it will be much more
difficult to settle him in life than his brother。 What is he
fitted for； even were it in my power to provide for him？ God help
the child！ I bear him no ill will； on the contrary； all love and
affection； but I cannot shut my eyes； there is something so strange
about him！ How he behaved in Ireland！ I sent him to school to
learn Greek； and he picked up Irish！'
'And Greek as well；' said my mother。 'I heard him say the other
day that he could read St。 John in the original tongue。'
'You will find excuses for him； I know；' said my father。 'You tell
me I am always talking of my first…born； I might retort by saying
you are always thinking of the other： but it is the way of women
always to side with the second…born。 There's what's her name in
the Bible； by whose wiles the old blind man was induced to give to
his second son the blessing which was the birthright of the other。
I wish I had been in his place！ I should not have been so easily
deceived！ no disguise would ever have caused me to mistake an
impostor for my first…born。 Though I must say for this boy that he
is nothing like Jacob； he is neither smooth nor sleek； and； though
my second…born； is already taller and larger than his brother。'
'Just so；' said my mother； 'his brother would make a far better
Jacob than he。'
'I will hear nothing against my first…born；' said my father； 'even
in the way of insinuation： he is my joy and pride； the very image
of myself in my youthful days； long before I fought Big Ben； though
perhaps not quite so tall or strong built。 As for the other； God
bless the child！ I love him； I'm sure； but I must be blind not to
see the difference between him and his brother。 Why； he has
neither my hair nor my eyes； and then his countenance！ why； 'tis
absolutely swarthy； God forgive me！ I had almost said like that of
a gypsy； but I have nothing to say against that； the boy is not to
be blamed for the colour of his face； nor for his hair and eyes；
but； then； his ways and manners！ … I confess I do not like them；
and that they give me no little uneasiness … I know that he kept
very strange company when he was in Ireland； people of evil report；
of whom terrible things were said … horse…witches and the like。 I
questioned him once or twice upon the matter； and even threatened
him； but it was of no use； he put on a look as if he did not
understand me； a regular Irish look； just such a one as those
rascals assume when they wish to appear all innocence and
simplicity； and they full of malice and deceit all the time。 I
don't like them； they are no friends to old England； or its old
king； God bless him！ They are not good subjects； and never were；
always in league with foreign enemies。 When I was in the
Coldstream； long before the Revolution； I used to hear enough about
the Irish brigades kept by the French kings； to be a thorn in the
side of the English whenever opportunity served。 Old Sergeant
Meredith once told me that in the time of the Pretender there were
always； in London alone； a dozen of fellows connected with these
brigades； with the view of seducing the king's soldiers from their
allegiance； and persuading them to desert to France to join the
honest Irish； as they were called。 One of these traitors once
accosted him and proposed the matter to him； offering handfuls of
gold if he could induce any of his comrades to go over。 Meredith
appeared to consent； but secretly gave information to his colonel；
the fellow was seized； and certain traitorous papers found upon
him； he was hanged before Newgate； and died exulting in his
treason。 His name was Michael Nowlan。 That ever son of mine
should have been intimate with the Papist Irish； and have learnt
their language！'
'But he thinks of other things now；' said my mother。
'Other languages； you mean；' said my father。 'It is strange that
he has conceived such a zest for the study of languages； no sooner
did he come home than he persuaded me to send him to that old
priest to learn French and Italian； and； if I remember right； you
abetted him； but； as I said before； it is in the nature of women
invariably to take the part of the second…born。 Well； there is no
harm in learning French and Italian； perhaps much good in his case；
as they may drive the other tongue out of his head。 Irish！ why； he
might go to the university but for that； but how would he look
when； on being examined with respect to his attainments； it was
discovered that he understood Irish？ How did you learn it？ they
would ask him； how did you become acquainted with the language of
Papists and rebels？ The boy would be sent away in disgrace。'
'Be under no apprehension； I have no doubt that he has long since
forgotten it。'
'I am glad to hear it；' said my father； 'for； between ourselves； I
love the poor child； ay； quite as well as my first…born。 I trust
they will do well； and that God will be their shield and guide； I
have no doubt He will； for I have read something in the Bible to
that effect。 What is that text about the young ravens being fed？'
'I know a better than that；' said my mother； 'one of David's own
words； 〃I have been young and now am grown old； yet never have I
seen the righteous man forsaken； or his seed begging their bread。〃'
I have heard talk of the pleasures of idleness； yet it is my own
firm belief that no one ever yet took pleasure in it。 Mere
idleness is the most disagreeable state of existence； and both mind
and body are continually making efforts to escape from it。 It has
been said that idleness is the parent of mischief； which is very
true； but mischief itself is merely an attempt to escape from the
dreary vacuum of idleness。 There are many tasks and occupations
which a man is unwilling to perform； but let no one think that he
is therefore in love with idleness； he turns to something which is
more agreeable to his inclination； and doubtless more suited to his
nature； but he is not in love with idleness。 A boy may play the
truant from school because he dislikes books and study； but； depend
upon it； he intends doing something the while … to go fishing； or
perhaps to take a walk； and who knows but that from such excursions
both his mind and body may deriv