ts of their education; here a thousand
conversations, pregnant with delight and improvement, took place; and
here the social affections were accustomed to expand, and the tear of
delicious sympathy to be shed.

My brother was an indefatigable student. The authors whom he read were
numerous, but the chief object of his veneration was Cicero. He was
never tired of conning and rehearsing his productions. To understand
them was not sufficient. He was anxious to discover the gestures and
cadences with which they ought to be delivered. He was very scrupulous
in selecting a true scheme of pronunciation for the Latin tongue, and in
adapting it to the words of his darling writer. His favorite occupation
consisted in embellishing his rhetoric with all the proprieties of
gesticulation and utterance.

Not contented with this, he was diligent in settling and restoring the
purity of the text. For this end, he collected all the editions and
commentaries that could be procured, and employed months of severe study
in exploring and comparing them. He never betrayed more satisfaction
than when he made a discovery of this kind.

It was not till the addition of Henry Pleyel, my friend's only brother,
to our society, that his passion for Roman eloquence was countenanced
and fostered by a sympathy of tastes. This young man had been some years
in Europe. We had separated at a very early age, and he was now returned
to spend the remainder of his days among us.

Our circle was greatly enlivened by the accession of a new member. His
conversation abounded with novelty. His gaiety was almost boisterous,
but was capable of yielding to a grave deportment when the occasion
required it. His discernment was acute, but he was prone to view every
object merely as supplying materials for mirth. His conceptions
were ardent but ludicrous, and his memory, aided, as he honestly
acknowledged, by his invention, was an inexhaustible fund of
entertainment.

His residence was at the same distance below the city as ours was above,
but there seldom passed a day without our being favoured with a visit.
My brother and he were endowed with the same attachment to the Latin
writers; and Pleyel was not behind his friend in his knowledge of the
history and metaphysics of religion. Their creeds, however, were in many
respects opposite. Where one discovered only confirmations of his faith,
the other could find nothing but reasons for doubt. Moral necessity,
and calvinis