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