nexpressibly and inconceivably brilliant;
and this without any effort or exertion of your own, but purely by the
goodwill of Fortune. I know the pride and naughtiness of thy heart, and
sincerely do I wish that thou hadst more beatings to thank me for, than
those which thou dost acknowledge so gratefully. Then had I thumped
these Quixotical expectations out of thee, and thou hadst not, as
now, conceived thyself to be the hero of some romantic history, and
converted, in thy vain imaginations, honest Griffiths, citizen and
broker, who never bestows more than the needful upon his quarterly
epistles, into some wise Alexander or sage Alquife, the mystical and
magical protector of thy peerless destiny. But I know not how it was,
thy skull got harder, I think, and my knuckles became softer; not to
mention that at length thou didst begin to show about thee a spark of
something dangerous, which I was bound to respect at least, if I did not
fear it.

And while I speak of this, it is not much amiss to advise thee to
correct a little this cock-a-hoop courage of thine. I fear much that,
like a hot-mettled horse, it will carry the owner into some scrape, out
of which he will find it difficult to extricate himself, especially if
the daring spirit which bore thee thither should chance to fail thee
at a pinch. Remember, Darsie, thou art not naturally courageous; on
the contrary, we have long since agreed that, quiet as I am, I have the
advantage in this important particular. My courage consists, I think,
in strength of nerves and constitutional indifference to danger; which,
though it never pushes me on adventure, secures me in full use of
my recollection, and tolerably complete self-possession, when danger
actually arrives. Now, thine seems more what may be called intellectual
courage; highness of spirit, and desire of distinction; impulses which
render thee alive to the love of fame, and deaf to the apprehension of
danger, until it forces itself suddenly upon thee. I own that, whether
it is from my having caught my father's apprehensions, or that I have
reason to entertain doubts of my own, I often think that this wildfire
chase of romantic situation and adventure may lead thee into some
mischief; and then what would become of Alan Fairford? They might make
whom they pleased Lord Advocate or Solicitor-General, I should never
have the heart to strive for it. All my exertions are intended to
Vindicate myself one day in your eyes; and I t