lves, Haik, also; they are a remarkable people, and, though
their original habitation is the Mountain of Ararat, they are to be
found, like the Jews, all over the world."

"Well!"

"Well, father, that's all I can tell you about Haiks, or Armenians."

"And what does it all amount to?"

"Very little, father; indeed, there is very little known about the
Armenians; their early history, in particular, is involved in
considerable mystery."

"And, if you knew all that it was possible to know about them, to what
would it amount? to what earthly purpose could you turn it? have you
acquired any knowledge of your profession?"

"Very little, father."

"Very little! Have you acquired all in your power?"

"I can't say that I have, father."

"And yet it was your duty to have done so. But I see how it is, you have
shamefully misused your opportunities; you are like one, who, sent into
the field to labour, passes his time in flinging stones at the birds of
heaven."

"I would scorn to fling a stone at a bird, father."

"You know what I mean, and all too well, and this attempt to evade
deserved reproof by feigned simplicity is quite in character with your
general behaviour. I have ever observed about you a want of frankness,
which has distressed me; you never speak of what you are about, your
hopes, or your projects, but cover yourself with mystery. I never knew
till the present moment that you were acquainted with Armenian."

"Because you never asked me, father; there's nothing to conceal in the
matter--I will tell you in a moment how I came to learn Armenian. A lady
whom I met at one of Mrs. ---'s parties took a fancy to me, and has done
me the honour to allow me to go and see her sometimes. She is the widow
of a rich clergyman, and on her husband's death came to this place to
live, bringing her husband's library with her: I soon found my way to it,
and examined every book. Her husband must have been a learned man, for
amongst much Greek and Hebrew I found several volumes in Armenian, or
relating to the language."

"And why did you not tell me of this before?"

"Because you never questioned me; but I repeat there is nothing to
conceal in the matter. The lady took a fancy to me, and, being fond of
the arts, drew my portrait; she said the expression of my countenance put
her in mind of Alfieri's Saul."

"And do you still visit her?"

"No, she soon grew tired of me, and told people that she found me very
stupid