On reaching home, I found the long desired letter from Mr. Ferret concerning my son Robin waiting for me. It was not what I expected; the partiality of a father's heart had beguiled my judgment; I had not read the delicate communication of Mr. Primly with a discerning spirit: still, there was nothing said by Mr. Ferret calculated to disturb me with any extraordinary anxiety.

He spoke of the lad as of winning manners, and beloved by his companions, who, indeed, were so much attached to him on account of his many agreeable qualities, that it might be necessary to admonish him not to let their wishes for his company encroach on the attention due to his business. But one thing alone contained a sting, and it was to the effect that Robin was rather too facile in admitting young men to his acquaintance; preferring for his comrades those who could best contribute to their common amusement, without sufficient regard to character and connections.

On this passage I meditated with an apprehensive heart. I saw there was more of an easy nature in his fault than of corruption; but, as it led him into the way of temptation, who could predict the consequences? And then I partly blamed myself for having sent him to Mr. Primly's care; for I ought, upon reflection, to have considered I had always regarded that good man as overly strict in the discipline of his sons; for though no young lads, for their years, could be more orderly in their conduct, and methodical in walk and conversation, they yet had an artificial habitude about them, that I sometimes thought might harden into hypocrisy; a callosity of mind I never could abide either in old or in young.

Had my boy, as I said to myself, been sent into a family where there was more of that free heartiness which I encouraged at home, he would have cared less for out-of-door companions. In short, I was uneasy; but as no special misconduct was mentioned, to give me more than a fear he might fall in with dissipated youths, I was disposed, in my determination of writing to him on the subject, not to evince any severity, but only a fatherly anxiety.