reflecting telescope. With such a family it may seem our friend Rob could
have had little communion. But civil war is a species of misery which
introduces men to strange bed-fellows. Dr. Gregory thought it a point of
prudence to claim kindred, at so critical a period, with a man so
formidable and influential. He invited Rob Roy to his house, and treated
him with so much kindness, that he produced in his generous bosom a
degree of gratitude which seemed likely to occasion very inconvenient
effects.

The Professor had a son about eight or nine years old,--a lively, stout
boy of his age,--with whose appearance our Highland Robin Hood was much
taken. On the day before his departure from the house of his learned
relative, Rob Roy, who had pondered deeply how he might requite his
cousin's kindness, took Dr. Gregory aside, and addressed him to this
purport:--"My dear kinsman, I have been thinking what I could do to show
my sense of your hospitality. Now, here you have a fine spirited boy of a
son, whom you are ruining by cramming him with your useless
book-learning, and I am determined, by way of manifesting my great
good-will to you and yours, to take him with me and make a man of him."
The learned Professor was utterly overwhelmed when his warlike kinsman
announced his kind purpose in language which implied no doubt of its
being a proposal which, would be, and ought to be, accepted with the
utmost gratitude. The task of apology or explanation was of a most
delicate description; and there might have been considerable danger in
suffering Rob Roy to perceive that the promotion with which he threatened
the son was, in the father's eyes, the ready road to the gallows. Indeed,
every excuse which he could at first think of--such as regret for putting
his friend to trouble with a youth who had been educated in the Lowlands,
and so on--only strengthened the chieftain's inclination to patronise his
young kinsman, as he supposed they arose entirely from the modesty of the