LETTER XLVIII.
Charles to William.
I could not guess the reason why my uncle sent in such a hurry for me. Now you shall hear, and certainly I am very fortunate. The day after I arrived, he took hold of my hand, we were alone, and pressing it, he said, I have observed with pleasure your improvement, Charles; you are the worthy son of a good father, and I doubt not will render his latter days happy—he deserves it, for he has made mine comfortable, I blush not to tell you, by teaching me to conquer myself and practise virtue. You have from your infancy been taught more by example than precept, and have not any inveterate bad habits to combat with.—Happy youth! shew your gratitude to heaven for this inestimable blessing; to you much has been given, and much indeed is required. He then presented me with a paper, and added, I now give you my estate in Hampshire, it is let out in small farms, and produces about one thousand pounds clear yearly rent; my life draws nigh to a close, and I wished to give you myself this testimony of my esteem.
I do not know in what style I thanked my uncle, I was so surprised; but I am sure I felt grateful, and he must have seen what I could not express.
The whole family congratulated me, and indeed paid me many compliments, which I think I do not merit. If I have spent my time in useful exercises, did not my father render those exercises pleasant? And if I have endeavoured to be good, I only followed an example I admired. Believe me, William, all this deserves no reward, I think I merely do my duty: and if I did not I should be unhappy. My pleasure in the pursuit of science is necessary to keep me from the listlessness of an idle life. Yes, should some one say, Charles Grandison does his duty, he is studious, he honours his parents, he loves his fellow-creatures: I should answer, I do not know how all this has happened, and why you wonder at it; I must do so or lose the favour of God,—lose the esteem of my parents, whom I love so dearly; and as to my fellow-creatures, I cannot help loving them, and doing them good; it is not only the employment, but the pleasure of my life.
Dr. Bartlett writes to my father; I doubt not but you will hear the letter read. We are to return through London; I cannot lengthen out my letter, though I have much to say, as I must attend my uncle, he has just sent for me. I can only then assure you that I am yours affectionately.