70 THE APPRENTICE. 



inand of even the few powers I have. I always felt thus 

 when in company with your uncles ; they are both 

 strong-minded men strong in sentiment and intellect 

 and there is a depth and massiveness in their character 

 which common circumstances fail to render apparent to 

 the unobservant, but which I have felt as if by instinct. 

 Hence, perhaps, my profound esteem for them ; but 

 hence, also, my want of sympathy with them. Had you 

 yourself been other than a boy when our intimacy was 

 first formed, I would not now, it is probable, be on my 

 present terms with you. We met in an hour propitious 

 to friendship. I could not feel myself inferior to the 

 wayward, warmhearted boy, who besought me so 

 anxiously to become attached to him ; who admired my 

 bad drawings, and saw very superior sense in my simple 

 disjointed remarks. Your force of character at the 

 same time was shown in but mere boyish rebellion which 

 one could laugh at ; your firmness Avas but obstinacy. 

 You were a mere cub, though a lion-cub a mere sap- 

 ling, though sprung from the acorn.' 



Such was the young man with whom Miller spent 

 the greater part of his time on being relieved from the 

 labours of his first year of apprenticeship. He read his 

 poems to Ross, and showed him his drawings. Hugh had 

 formed a high estimate of both, and the under-current 

 of critical severity \vhich invariably accompanied his 

 friend's applause, though not strong enough to damp 

 his ardour, was useful in giving precision to his ideas of 

 himself. Ross had penetration enough to discern that 

 a certain imaginative glow, which threw out objects, as 

 it were, in aerial perspective, and cast over them a pleas- 

 ing light of fancy or association, belonged to Miller. In 

 their walks in the wood or by the shore, he encouraged 

 Hugh to cultivate literature, applauding ' the wild vigour 



