ure for a man one
penny loaf, naturally watched for any peculiar symptoms of genius in his
children which might designate one of the various paths to wealth and
fame, by which it would be most easy for the individual to ascend. Now
it did occur that when Nicholas was yet in womanish attire, he showed a
great partiality to a burning-glass, with which he contrived to do much
mischief. He would burn the dog's nose as he slept in the sun before
the door. His mother's gown showed proofs of his genius by sundry
little round holes, which were considerably increased each time that it
returned from the wash. Nay, heretical and damnable as is the fact, his
father's surplice was as a moth-eaten garment from the repeated and
insidious attacks of this young philosopher. The burning-glass decided
his fate. He was bound apprentice to an optical and mathematical
instrument maker; from which situation he was, if possible, to emerge
into the highest grade of the profession; but, somehow or another, a
want of ambition or of talent did not permit him to ascend the scale,
and he now kept a shop in the small seaport town of Overton, where he
repaired damaged articles of science--a watch one day, a quadrant or a
compass another; but his chief employment and his chief forte lay in
telescopes; and accordingly, a large board, with "Nicholas Forster,
Optician," surmounted the small shop window, at which he was invariably
to be seen at his employment. He was an eccentric person, one of those
who had narrowly escaped being clever; but there was an obliquity in his
mind which would not admit of lucid order and arrangement. In the small
town where he resided, he continued to pick up a decent sustenance; for
he had no competitor, and was looked upon as a man of considerable
ability. He was the only one of three brothers who had ventured upon
wedlock. But of this part of our history we shall at present say no
more than that he had an only child, and had married his wife, to use
his own expression, because she _suited his focus_.

Edward Forster the youngest, whom we have already introduced to the
reader, showed strong nautical propensities; he swam nut-shells in a
puddle, and sent pieces of lath with paper sails floating down the brook
which gurgled by the parsonage. This was circumstantial evidence: he
was convicted, and ordered off to sea, to return a Nelson. For his
conduct during the time he served her, Edward Forster certainly deserved