at ten; where shall we
then place the beginning of the series? Besides, sir, the very
prejudices and manners of society, which seem to be an excuse for the
present negligence in the early education of children, act upon my mind
with a contrary effect. Need we fear that, after every possible
precaution has been taken, our pupil should not give a sufficient loose
to his passions, or should be in danger of being too severely virtuous?
How glorious would be such a distinction, how much to be wished for, and
yet how little to be expected by any one who is moderately acquainted
with the world! The instant he makes his entrance there, he will find a
universal relaxation and indifference to everything that is serious;
everything will conspire to represent pleasure and sensuality as the
only business of human beings, and to throw a ridicule upon every
pretence to principle or restraint. This will be the doctrine that he
will learn at theatres, from his companions, from the polite circles
into which he is introduced. The ladies, too, will have their share in
the improvement of his character; they will criticise the colour of his
clothes, his method of making a bow, and of entering a room. They will
teach him that the great object of human life is to please the fair; and
that the only method of doing it is to acquire the graces. Need we fear
that, thus beset an every side, he should not attach a sufficient
importance to trifles, or grow fashionably languid in the discharge of
all his duties? Alas! sir, it seems to me that this will unavoidably
happen in spite of all our endeavours. Let us, then, not lose the
important moment of human life, when it is possible to flatter ourselves
with some hopes of success in giving good impressions; they may succeed;
they may either preserve a young man from gross immorality, or have a
tendency to reform him when the first ardour of youth is past. If we
neglect this awful moment, which can never return, with the view which,
I must confess, I have of modern manners, it appears to me like
launching a vessel in the midst of a storm, without a compass and
without a pilot."

"Sir," said Mr Merton, "I will make no other answer to what you have now
been saying, than to tell you, it adds, if possible, to my esteem of
your character; and that I will deliver my son into your hands, upon
your own conditions. And as to the terms--"

"Pardon me," replied Mr Barlow, "if I interrupt you here, and give you
an