arena of his struggle for fame and fortune, when education was locked up like a prisoner, and often like a state-prisoner, uselessly and vainly, in a monastery, and knowledge, like fixed air, too confined to be wholesome. Are not all these things changed for the better? and, encouraged by the past, Reason herself turns into hope. Algernon[1], I am young, and as yet undistinguished; but I am not thoughtless. I look forward to future years of honourable and useful exertion, for which early youth is not the season. We require some experience of our own, before we benefit by that of others; but my path is ever before me, and it is my entire conviction of its excellence that makes me wish my brother to share it with me."
Algernon[2] gazed for a moment on the expression which lighted up the beautiful face of his brother, whom he loved as those love who have but one channel for the gathered waters of their affection; but his sympathy was as that of a mother who hears her eldest boy dwell on schemes in which she has no part beyond the interest that she takes in all that is his.
Lord Etheringhame.—"You will succeed, Edward. Your energy will carry you over some obstacles—your enthusiasm will blind you to
