LETTER XXVI.
Charles to his Father.
What a pleasure you have allowed me to enjoy, my dear father! indeed I know not how to thank you for it; but I will tell you how happy you have made Mr. Wilson, and that will reward you. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he pressed the hand I held out;—but I must relate the particulars. Mr. Wilson has a great spirit; I was afraid it would hurt him to receive a present from a boy; I wished to have put it in his snuff-box, to have avoided hurting his delicacy; but I could not contrive to do it unobserved. I then offered to lend him the sum he wanted, and refused a note he would have given me, and ran out of the house—I did not want thanks—I rather wished to thank God for permitting me to relieve a fellow-creature.
I am, dear Sir, your affectionate and dutiful son,