e of you--what
is the reason?'

The youth made no answer.

'You think, probably, that you have learned all I can teach you? Well,
perhaps you are right.'

'Not so, not so,' said the young man eagerly; 'before I knew you I knew
nothing, and am still very ignorant; but of late my father's health has
been very much broken, and he requires attention; his spirits also have
become low, which, to tell you the truth, he attributes to my misconduct.
He says that I have imbibed all kinds of strange notions and doctrines,
which will, in all probability, prove my ruin, both here and hereafter;
which--which--'

'Ah! I understand,' said the elder, with another calm whiff. 'I have
always had a kind of respect for your father, for there is something
remarkable in his appearance, something heroic, and I would fain have
cultivated his acquaintance; the feeling, however, has not been
reciprocated. I met him, the other day, up the road, with his cane and
dog, and saluted him; he did not return my salutation.'

'He has certain opinions of his own,' said the youth, 'which are widely
different from those which he has heard that you profess.'

'I respect a man for entertaining an opinion of his own,' said the
elderly individual. 'I hold certain opinions; but I should not respect
an individual the more for adopting them. All I wish for is tolerance,
which I myself endeavour to practise. I have always loved the truth, and
sought it; if I have not found it, the greater my misfortune.'

'Are you happy?' said the young man.

'Why, no! And, between ourselves, it is that which induces me to doubt
sometimes the truth of my opinions. My life, upon the whole, I consider
a failure; on which account, I would not counsel you, or any one, to
follow my example too closely. It is getting late, and you had better be
going, especially as your father, you say, is anxious about you. But, as
we may never meet again, I think there are three things which I may
safely venture to press upon you. The first is, that the decencies and
gentlenesses should never be lost sight of, as the practice of the
decencies and gentlenesses is at all times compatible with independence
of thought and action. The second thing which I would wish to impress
upon you is, that there is always some eye upon us; and that it is
impossible to keep anything we do from the world, as it will assuredly be
divulged by somebody as soon as it is his interest to do so. The third