“No indeed.  It’s well if I can remember a little inapplicable Latin to adorn my maiden speech in Parliament six or seven years hence.  ’Cras ingens iterabimus aequor,’ and a few shreds of that sort, will perhaps stick to me, and I shall arrange my opinions so as to introduce them.  But I don’t think a knowledge of the classics is a pressing want to a country gentleman; as far as I can see, he’d much better have a knowledge of manures.  I’ve been reading your friend Arthur Young’s books lately, and there’s nothing I should like better than to carry out some of his ideas in putting the farmers on a better management of their land; and, as he says, making what was a wild country, all of the same dark hue, bright and variegated with corn and cattle.  My grandfather will never let me have any power while he lives, but there’s nothing I should like better than to undertake the Stonyshire side of the estate—­it’s in a dismal condition—­and set improvements on foot, and gallop about from one place to another and overlook them.  I should like to know all the labourers, and see them touching their hats to me with a look of goodwill.”

“Bravo, Arthur!  A man who has no feeling for the classics couldn’t make a better apology for coming into the world than by increasing the quantity of food to maintain scholars—­and rectors who appreciate scholars.  And whenever you enter on your career of model landlord may I be there to see.  You’ll want a portly rector to complete the picture, and take his tithe of all the respect and honour you get by your hard work.  Only don’t set your heart too strongly on the goodwill you are to get in consequence.  I’m not sure that men are the fondest of those who try to be useful to them.  You know Gawaine has got the curses of the whole neighbourhood upon him about that enclosure.  You must make it quite clear to your mind which you are most bent upon, old boy—­popularity or usefulness—­else you may happen to miss both.”

“Oh!  Gawaine is harsh in his manners; he doesn’t make himself personally agreeable to his tenants.  I don’t believe there’s anything you can’t prevail on people to do with kindness.  For my part, I couldn’t live in a neighbourhood where I was not respected and beloved.  And it’s very pleasant to go among the tenants here—­they seem all so well inclined to me I suppose it seems only the other day to them since I was a little lad, riding on a pony about as big as a sheep.  And if fair allowances were made to them, and their buildings attended to, one could persuade them to farm on a better plan, stupid as they are.”

“Then mind you fall in love in the right place, and don’t get a wife who will drain your purse and make you niggardly in spite of yourself.  My mother and I have a little discussion about you sometimes:  she says, ’I ll never risk a single prophecy on Arthur until I see the woman he falls in love with.’  She thinks your lady-love will rule you as the moon rules the tides.  But I feel bound to stand up for you, as my pupil you know, and I maintain that you’re not of that watery quality.  So mind you don’t disgrace my judgment.”