income when my brother and myself were about three and four years
old. My father died some five or six years afterwards, and we only
recollected him as a singularly gentle and humorous playmate who
doted upon us both and never spoke unkindly. The charm of such a
recollection can never be dispelled; both my brother and myself
returned his love with interest, and cherished his memory with the
most affectionate regret, from the day on which he left us till the
time came that the one of us was again to see him face to face. So
sweet and winning was his nature that his slightest wish was our law-
-and whenever we pleased him, no matter how little, he never failed
to thank us as though we had done him a service which we should have
had a perfect right to withhold. How proud were we upon any of these
occasions, and how we courted the opportunity of being thanked! He
did indeed well know the art of becoming idolised by his children,
and dearly did he prize the results of his own proficiency; yet truly
there was no art about it; all arose spontaneously from the
wellspring of a sympathetic nature which knew how to feel as others
felt, whether old or young, rich or poor, wise or foolish. On one
point alone did he neglect us--I refer to our religious education.
On all other matters he was the kindest and most careful teacher in
the world. Love and gratitude be to his memory!

My mother loved us no less ardently than my father, but she was of a
quicker temper, and less adept at conciliating affection. She must
have been exceedingly handsome when she was young, and was still
comely when we first remembered her; she was also highly
accomplished, but she felt my father's loss of fortune more keenly
than my father himself, and it preyed upon her mind, though rather
for our sake than for her own. Had we not known my father we should
have loved her better than any one in the world, but affection goes