door with my poor father's letter, I shook for fear you would not look upon me—and I cannot help feeling, even more now, than I did then."
The dean embraced him with warmth—gave him confidence—and retired to the other side of the study to observe his whole demeanour on this new occasion.
As he beheld his features varying between the passions of humble fear, and servent hope,—his face sometimes glowing with the rapture of thanksgiving, and sometimes with the blushes of contrition, he thus exclaimed apart:
"This is the true education on which to found the principles of religion—The favour conferred by heaven in granting

the freedom of petitions to its throne, can never be conceived with proper force, but by those, whose most tedious moments during their infancy, were not passed in prayer. Unthinking governors of childhood! to insult the Deity with a form of worship, in which the mind has no share; nay worse, has repugnance; and by the thoughtless habits of youth, prevent, even in age, devotion.
Henry's attention was so firmly fixed, that he forgot there was a spectator of his fervour; nor did he hear young William enter the chamber and even speak to his father.
At length closing his book, and rising from his knees, he approached his uncle and cousin with a sedateness in his air, which gave the latter a very false opinion of the state of his youthful companion's mind.
"So, Mr. Henry," cried William, "you have been obliged to say your prayers at last."
The dean informed his son, "That to Henry, it was no punishment to pray."
"He is the strangest boy I ever knew." Said William inadvertently.

"To be sure," said Henry, "I was frightened when I first knelt; but when I came to the words Father which art in heaven, they gave me courage; for I know how merciful and kind a father is, beyond any one else."
The dean again embraced his nephew; let fall a tear to his poor brother Henry's misfortunes; and admonished the youth to show himself equally submissive to other instructions, as he had done to those, which inculcate piety.


THE interim between youth and manhood was passed by young William and young Henry in studious application to literature; some casual mistakes in our customs and manners on the part of Henry, some too close adherences to them on the side of William.
Their different characters when boys, were preserved when they were men: Henry still retained that natural simplicity which