"But I have noted you of late," continued my father, "and I have
observed that your old studies are grown distasteful to you; and I have
talked with Roland, and I see that your desire is deeper than a boy's
mere whim. And then I have asked myself what prospect I can hold out at
home to induce you to be contented here, and I see none; and therefore I
should say to you, 'Go thy ways, and God shield thee,'--but,
Pisistratus, your mother!"

"Ah, sir, that is indeed the question; and there indeed I shrink! But,
after all, whatever I were,--whether toiling at the Bar or in some
public office,--I should be still so much from home and her. And then
you, sir, she loves you so entirely that--"

"No," interrupted my father; "you can advance no arguments like these to
touch a mother's heart. There is but one argument that comes home
there: is it for your good to leave her? If so, there will be no need
of further words. But let us not decide that question hastily; let you
and I be together the next two months. Bring your books and sit with
me; when you want to go out, tap me on the shoulder, and say 'Come.' At
the end of those two months I will say to you 'Go' or 'Stay.' And you
will trust me; and if I say the last, you will submit?"

"Oh yes, sir, yes!"

(1) Hohler's translation.

(2) Words coined by Mr. Caxton from (Greek word), "disposed to roaming,"
and (Greek word), "to export, to alienate."