Henry felt too powerfully his own superiority of fortune to resent
this ingratitude: he patiently picked up the repast, and laying it
again upon the table, placed by its side a bottle of claret, which
he held fast by the neck, while he assured his brother that,
"although he had taken it while the waiter's back was turned, yet it
might be drank with a safe conscience by them; for he had not
himself tasted one drop at the feast, on purpose that he might enjoy
a glass with his brother at home, and without wronging the company
who had invited him."

The affection Henry expressed as he said this, or the force of a
bumper of wine, which William had not seen since he left his
father's house, had such an effect in calming the displeasure he was
cherishing, that, on his brother offering him the glass, he took it;
and he deigned even to eat of his present.

Henry, to convince him that he had stinted himself to obtain for him
this collation, sat down and partook of it.

After a few glasses, he again ventured to say, "Do, brother William,
let me teach you to play on the violin."

Again his offer was refused, though with less vehemence: at length
they both agreed that the attempt could not prosper.

"Then," said Henry, "William, go down to Oxford or to Cambridge.
There, no doubt, they are as fond of learning as in this gay town
they are of music. You know you have as much talent for the one as
I for the other: do go to one of our universities, and see what
dinners, what suppers, and what friends you will find there."