My earliest recollections speak of the intense happiness of the holidays, beginning with finding him in Papa's room in the morning; the awe at the idea of his having reached home in the dark after we were in bed, and the Saturnalia which at once set in;--no lessons; nothing but fun and merriment for the whole six weeks.

In the year 1816 we were at Brighton for the summer holidays, and he read to us Sir Charles Grandison.

It was always a habit in our family to read aloud every evening.

Among the books selected I can recall Clarendon, Burnet, Shakspeare, (a great treat when my mother took the volume,) Miss Edgeworth, Mackenzie's Lounger and Mirror, and, as a standing dish, the Quarterly and the Edinburgh Reviews.

Poets too, especially Scott and Crabbe, were constantly chosen.