arts, and were acknowledged by
the whole nation to be the patrons of music--William and Henry, youths
under twenty years of age, brothers, and the sons of a country shopkeeper
who had lately died insolvent, set out on foot for London, in the hope of
procuring by their industry a scanty subsistence.

As they walked out of their native town, each with a small bundle at his
back, each observed the other drop several tears: but, upon the sudden
meeting of their eyes, they both smiled with a degree of disdain at the
weakness in which they had been caught.

"I am sure," said William (the elder), "I don't know what makes me cry."

"Nor I neither," said Henry; "for though we may never see this town
again, yet we leave nothing behind us to give us reason to lament."

"No," replied William, "nor anybody who cares what becomes of us."

"But I was thinking," said Henry, now weeping bitterly, "that, if my poor
father were alive, _he_ would care what was to become of us: he would not
have suffered us to begin this long journey without a few more shillings
in our pockets."

At the end of this sentence, William, who had with some effort suppressed
his tears while his brother spoke, now uttered, with a voice almost
inarticulate,--"Don't say any more; don't talk any more about it. My
father used to tell us, that when he was gone we must take care of
ourselves: and so we must. I only wish," continued he, giving way to his
grief, "that I had never done anything to offend him while he was
living."

"That is what I wish too," cried Henry. "If I had always been dutiful to
him while he was alive, I would not shed one tear for him now that he is
gone--but I would thank Heaven that he has escaped from his creditors."

In conversation such as this, wherein their sorrow for their deceased
parent seemed less for his death than because he had not been so happy
when living as they ought to have made him; and wherein their own outcast
fortune was less the subject of their grief, than the reflection what
their father would have endured could he have beheld them in their
present situation;--in conversation such as this, they pursued their
journey till they arrived at that metropolis, which has received for
centuries past, from the provincial towns, the bold adventurer of every
denomination; has stamped his character with experience and example; and,
while it has bestowed on some coronets and mitres--on some the lasting
fame of genius--to oth