Hugh could not help feeling considerably astonished to hear this criticism from the lips of one whom he considered an uneducated man.  For he did not know that there are many other educations besides a college one, some of them tending far more than that to develope the common-sense, or faculty of judging of things by their nature.  Life intelligently met and honestly passed, is the best education of all; except that higher one to which it is intended to lead, and to which it had led David.  Both these educations, however, were nearly unknown to the student of books.  But he was still more astonished to hear from the lips of Margaret, who was sitting by: 

“That’s it, father; that’s it!  I was jist ettlin’ efter that same thing mysel, or something like it, but ye put it in the richt words exackly.”

The sound of her voice drew Hugh’s eyes upon her:  he was astonished at the alteration in her countenance.  While she spoke it was absolutely beautiful.  As soon as she ceased speaking, it settled back into its former shadowless calm.  Her father gave her one approving glance and nod, expressive of no surprise at her having approached the same discovery as himself, but testifying pleasure at the coincidence of their opinions.  Nothing was left for Hugh but to express his satisfaction with the interpretation of the difficulty, and to add, that the poem would henceforth possess fresh interest for him.

After this, his visits became more frequent; and at length David made a request which led to their greater frequency still.  It was to this effect: 

“Do ye think, Mr. Sutherlan’, I could do onything at my age at the mathematics?  I unnerstan’ weel eneuch hoo to measur’ lan’, an’ that kin’ o’ thing.  I jist follow the rule.  But the rule itsel’s a puzzler to me.  I dinna understan’ it by half.  Noo it seems to me that the best o’ a rule is, no to mak ye able to do a thing, but to lead ye to what maks the rule richt—­to the prenciple o’ the thing.  It’s no ‘at I’m misbelievin’ the rule, but I want to see the richts o’t.”

“I’ve no doubt you could learn fast enough,” replied Hugh.  “I shall be very happy to help you with it.”

“Na, na; I’m no gaein to trouble you.  Ye hae eneuch to do in that way.  But if ye could jist spare me ane or twa o’ yer beuks whiles—­ony o’ them ’at ye think proper, I sud be muckle obleeged te ye.”

Hugh promised and fulfilled; but the result was, that, before long, both the father and the daughter were seated at the kitchen-table, every evening, busy with Euclid and Algebra; and that, on most evenings, Hugh was present as their instructor.  It was quite a new pleasure to him.  Few delights surpass those of imparting knowledge to the eager recipient.  What made Hugh’s tutor-life irksome, was partly the excess of his desire to communicate, over the desire of his pupils to partake.  But here there was no labour.  All the questions were asked by the