herewith to pay my passage over Schuylkill, or to buy a morsel
of bread. May I venture to request of you, sir, the loan of sixpence? As
I told you, it is my intention to repay it."

I delivered this address, not without some faltering, but with great
earnestness. I laid particular stress upon my intention to refund the
money. He listened with a most inquisitive air. His eye perused me from
head to foot.

After some pause, he said, in a very emphatic manner, "Why into the
country? Have you family? Kindred? Friends?"

"No," answered I, "I have neither. I go in search of the means of
subsistence. I have passed my life upon a farm, and propose to die in
the same condition."

"Whence have you come?"

"I came yesterday from the country, with a view to earn my bread in some
way, but have changed my plan and propose now to return."

"Why have you changed it? In what way are you capable of earning your
bread?"

"I hardly know," said I. "I can, as yet, manage no tool, that can be
managed in the city, but the pen. My habits have, in some small degree,
qualified me for a writer. I would willingly accept employment of that
kind."

He fixed his eyes upon the earth, and was silent for some minutes. At
length, recovering himself, he said, "Follow me to my house. Perhaps
something may be done for you. If not, I will lend you sixpence."

It may be supposed that I eagerly complied with the invitation. My
companion said no more, his air bespeaking him to be absorbed by his own
thoughts, till he reached his house, which proved to be that at the door
of which I had been seated. We entered a parlour together.

Unless you can assume my ignorance and my simplicity, you will be unable
to conceive the impressions that were made by the size and ornaments of
this apartment. I shall omit these impressions, which, indeed, no
description could adequately convey, and dwell on incidents of greater
moment. He asked me to give him a specimen of my penmanship. I told you
that I had bestowed very great attention upon this art. Implements were
brought, and I sat down to the task. By some inexplicable connection a
line in Shakspeare occurred to me, and I wrote,--

"My poverty, but not my will, consents."

The sentiment conveyed in this line powerfully affected him, but in a
way which I could not then comprehend. I collected from subsequent
events that the inference was not unfavourable to my understanding or my
morals. He questioned m