In one family he acted the part of the truest of friends—­gently reproving the little ones when they deserved it, and ready to amuse when it was the time for amusement—­sometimes taking them to Bath for the day, and making them very happy, bestowing at the same time great pains on their instruction—­sometimes practising music with them, and accompanying their sonatas on his incomparable flute—­recommending to the governess a higher style of music, leading them on gradually to the works of Beethoven and Mozart.  By and by he gave them instructions in architecture; taught them, as he said, all that he had learned from Rickman.  His teaching was minutely technical.  He would assemble his class in a little morning room, with books before them, and a case of mathematical instruments, pens and pencils.  His pupils wrote what he saw fit to dictate, and he taught them how to use the compasses.  Next came botany, which was not a new study to his pupils.  There his brothers assisted him.  They made a joint hortus siccus under his instruction.  Edwin contributed many specimens from Scotland, and Marmaduke made a little collection of mosses.  But they had to thank the curate for yet higher and better instruction.  His younger pupils were not excluded from the most earnest conversations between him and Mr. Algar, Mr. John Sheppard, and some friends of the neighbouring gentlemen and clergy.  In these conversations books were read and criticised, theological and other subjects, including some politics, were discussed.  Ramsay was quizzed for Whiggish tendencies.  The mistress of the house usually joined and set them right in politics, for she had been brought up in Plymouth during the French war, and had learned the old-fashioned Tory doctrine, and to think any other politics sinful.  But all those high subjects of politics and religion were discussed with fitting respect; for that society—­young and old—­had a deep sense of religion, and the parents encouraged the younger members to visit and instruct the workmen and their families who were employed in the large cloth manufactories of the Sheppards; so that it came to pass that every man, woman, and child was taught or helped to teach others, for in those days very few of the working-people, at least in that part of England, could read at all.  A lending library was attached to the mills.  A large Sunday school was formed, chiefly for the children of the workpeople, and additional services were undertaken by the curate—­a second sermon on Sundays besides one on Thursday evenings, where the families of the neighbourhood attended, and as many of the servants as could be spared.  There, be sure, was no big talk on the primary obligation of orthodoxy, no attempts to proselytise.  But all classes of that primitive people valued his preaching, and farmers and their labourers, the workmen of the factories, as well as their masters, took advantage of it.  His brothers often visited him, and joined heartily in his pursuits whether gay or serious.  It was delightful to see the three brothers so happy in each other’s society, and helping on a worthy common object.  Marmaduke, the Cambridge man, would talk astronomy, and William, the sailor, afterwards Admiral Ramsay, brought down a fine telescope, and himself gave them their first lesson in practical astronomy, handing over the instrument when he left to his brother the curate, that he might continue the instruction.