playthings and companions to their seniors, but that is all at an
end in the present system."

"Old Andrew says that large families 'squander' themselves all over the
earth now," said Frank, laughing.

"Yes! very young children are thrust into preparatory schools--older
boys go to distant academies--youths to College--and young men are
shipped off abroad, while who among them all can say his heart is in his
own home? Parents in the meantime, finding no occupation or amusement in
educating their children, begin writing books, perhaps theories of
education, or novels; and try to fill up the rest of their useless hours
with plays, operas, concerts, balls, or clubs. If people could only know
what is the best happiness of this life, it certainly depends on being
loved by those we belong to; for nothing can be called peace on earth,
which does not consist in family affection, built upon a strong
foundation of religion and morality."

Sir Edward Graham felt very proud of Frank, as all gentlemen are of
their eldest sons, and wrote a most affectionate letter on the occasion
of his going to sea, promising to meet him at Portsmouth, and lamenting
that he still felt so ill and melancholy he could not return home, but
meant to try whether the baths in Germany would do him any good. In this
letter was enclosed what he called "Frank's first prize-money," the
largest sum the young midshipman had ever seen in his life, and before
it had been a day in his possession, more than the half was spent on
presents to his friends. Not a single person seemed to be forgotten
except himself; for Frank was so completely unselfish, that Peter Grey
once laughingly said, "Frank scarcely remembers there is such a person
as himself in the world, therefore it is astonishing how he contrives to
exist at all."

"If that be his worst fault, you shew him a very opposite example,
Peter," said Major Graham, smiling; "number one is a great favourite
with you."

"Frank is also very obliging!" added Lady Harriet; "he would do anything
for any body."

"Ah, poor fellow! he can't help that," said Peter, in a tone of pity.
"Some people are born with that sort of desperate activity--flying to
assist every one--running up stairs for whatever is wanted--searching
for whatever is lost--and picking up whatever has been dropped. I have
seen several others like Frank, who were troubled with that sort of
turn. He is indulging his own inclination in flying about everywh