rthful eyes; boots which reached
above his knees; a broad-skirted, scarlet coat, with gold lace on the
cuffs, the collar, and the skirts; and a long waistcoat of blue silk.
His breeches were buckskin; his hat was three-cornered, set jauntily
higher on the right than on the left side." His name was Harry
Garland. To his request that William, Edmund, and Robert might go with
him, their father replied, "No, they cannot go out." Although the boys
earnestly desired to go, they dared say nothing against their father's
emphatic "No." He had work for them to do, and he never allowed
pleasure to usurp the time for labour. The result is recorded on the
page of English history. The three brothers of the Peel family became
renowned in their country's brilliant progress. Harry Garland, the
idle, foppish youth, became a ruined spendthrift. In this way the
language of inspiration is verified. "Honour thy father and mother
(which is the first commandment with promise), that it may be well
with thee." The providence of God appears to make it well with the
children who obey the commandment. Not the least of their reward is
the respect and confidence of mankind which their obedience secures.
Men universally admire to witness deeds that are prompted by true
filial love. Such an act as that of the great engineer, George
Stephenson, who took the first thirty pounds he possessed, saved from
a year's wages, and paid off his blind old father's debts, and then
removed both father and mother to a comfortable tenement at
Killingworth, where he supported them by the labour of his hands,
awakens our admiration, and leads us to expect that the Divine
blessing will rest upon the author.

When the statue of Franklin was inaugurated, in 1856, a barouche
appeared in the procession that carried eight brothers, all of whom
received Franklin medals at the Mayhew School in their boyhood, sons
of the late Mr. John Hall. They were all known to fame for their worth
of character and wide influence. As the barouche in which they rode
came into State Street, from Merchants' Row, these brothers all rose
up in the carriage, uncovered their heads, and thus remained while
passing a window at which their excellent and revered mother sat,--an
act of filial regard so impressive and beautiful as to fill the hearts
of beholders with profound respect for the affectionate sons.

Benjamin was taken away from school, agreeably to his father's
decision, and sent to Mr. Brownw