The only member of the family who gave him the least assistance in treading the heavenward way was his brother; and often did Ernest think of the wisdom and mercy of the Saviour in sending His disciples by two and two into the world. The characters of the boys were in some points very unlike, but there was one hope, one guiding principle, in both, and perhaps the very difference in their dispositions made them more able to support one another. Ernest was more shy and diffident than his brother, but had a deeper knowledge of his own heart. Charles had learned more, but Ernest had reflected more; Charles was in more danger from love of the world, Ernest from shrinking too much from its ridicule. Where Hope was impatient, Fontonore had learned to wait: their early life had been passed in different schools—one the child of luxury, the other of want; one tried by pleasure, the other by suffering; but both had passed through the strait wicket-gate; both were united in sincere love to the Saviour; both were anxious to struggle against their besetting sins, and to press onward to the prize set before them. Would that we were ever as ready to help one another in the narrow path as these two young Christian pilgrims! If, instead of acting, as we too often do, the part either of tempters or tormentors, we employed all the influence which friendship and relationship give us to draw our companions nearer to heaven, what a blessing would rest on our intercourse below! How much would it resemble that which we hope to enjoy above! One thing which the inexperienced Ernest soon discovered was, that money disappeared very rapidly in London. That which at first had seemed to him an inexhaustible fortune, appeared almost as though it melted away in his hand. One of his first cares on entering the capital was to procure a most beautiful Bible, and send it, with a grateful letter, to Miss Searle. This was at once a pleasure and a relief to his heart, for it had been burdened—not with a sense of owing kindness, for that is painful only to the proud spirit, but the feeling that he might appear ungrateful, and that those who had been his friends in adversity might think that in his prosperity he had forgotten them. Then there were so many necessary things to be purchased—so many tempting books to be desired, for Ernest delighted in reading—so many charities which he wished to aid—so many objects of pity that he yearned to relieve, that the youthful nobleman’s once heavy purse soon became very empty.