LETTER V.CharlestoWilliam.
Well, my dear friend, my father has exerted his interest, and the captain has consented to release young Bradley from his engagement. I returned the bounty money; my father would have reimbursed me, but I wished to do something myself.
I then visited the unhappy mother, who joyfully received the news, and even the son thanked me with tears in his eyes, for he appears to have a good disposition, though he has not sufficient firmness to bear the laugh of his dissipated companions. The poor woman still seems alive to fear, but my father has promised to procure him some employment; mean while Dr. Bartlett will endeavour to prepare him for it, by teaching him habits ofregularity and order. That good man thought of making him copy some of his sermons, and making extracts from books. This task young Bradley readily performs in the steward’s room, and he imagines that he is making himself useful, when in reality this is only a scheme of the benevolent Doctor’s to improve him, and detach him from his former idle companions. It already seems to have had a good effect on him, and my tutor says, he perceives a spark of emulation blowing up in his mind, that he hopes will strengthen his weak resolves, and make him, in time, a virtuous character.
Our little garden is now in fine order again, and I work at it with pleasure, because I have got a new companion. Can you guess who? no other than your old friend Emilia. She has got a dress proper to work in, and rises with the lark to assist me; indeed she oftenjoins in the general concert, and sings as chearfully as the birds that hop around us. I asked her, yesterday, if she was not afraid to dirty her hands. You mean to laugh at me, said she, smiling, I hope I shall never be a fine lady, or forget that my hands were given me for some other purpose than to keep them soft and white. Believe me, brother, a daisy I have raised by my own labour, is a thousand times more acceptable to me than the finest nosegay presented by the gardener.
But I must here close my letter, my mother has sent for me to go an airing with her, and I must not make her wait.
Yours,CHARLES.
Yours,CHARLES.
Yours,CHARLES.
Yours,
CHARLES.