Dr. Bartlett highly commended this act of humanity when we reached home. But, said Emilia, the man in rags must have appeared an odd figure in such a fine carriage. I never thought of that, sister, answered Charles, I was so glad to seize an opportunity of doing good—and felt myself so warmly interested about the old man’s preservation. Nobly done, my son, said Sir Charles. Observe, Emilia, your brother has made a triumphal car of his carriage, which, has done him more honour than those the victorious Romans, whose history you are all reading, made for their heroes; he has saved the life of his brother—a poor wanderer in the dark; yet, forlorn as he appeared, that God who allows us to enjoy the cheerful light of day, cares for him, and Jesus Christ would have felt compassion for him; in his eyes the good only were great. Come to my arms, my son, you rejoice your father’s heart. We were all silent for a few moments, and tears stood in our eyes—and I prayed that I might glad my mother’s heart. Farewel, my dearest mother, love your WILLIAM. LETTER XII. _Miss_ EMILIA GRANDISON _to Miss_ CHARLOTTE L——. I send you a small landscape which I have drawn myself, my dear cousin. It is not very valuable I know; but I hope to improve as I grow older, and then I will send you one done in a superior style; but pray hang this in your chamber, and then you will often think of me. I wish now to ask your advice; next Thursday is mama’s birth-day, can you not transcribe for me some verses out of that pretty book you have, which I would present to my mother to express my respect and good wishes, and to shew her—No,—I believe it would not be right—No, do not do it; I will try to express my wishes in my own words.—Why should mama have stolen verses? I love her dearly, and I think I can easily say what gratitude and love inspires; and should my foolish tongue falter, surely she will be able to read in every turn of my face, the sincere affection which warms my heart. I will then think of what this good mother has done for me, what misfortunes she preserved me from; next to God, my thanks are due to her. Indeed I do love her, and I will endeavour to shew my gratitude by my attention to her most trivial commands or wishes; and I hope, I shall never through thoughtlessness occasion her a moment’s uneasiness: I I should hate myself if I did. For the future, dear cousin, I will earnestly pray to God to spare my father and mother, the dearest earthly blessings I enjoy. The thought of losing them depresses my spirits:—O may God long preserve them! Yes, yes, with these sentiments, I shall know very well how to wish mama many returns of the day we are to celebrate. I have net her a purse, during our play hours; I mean to surprise her—she will see that Emilia thinks of her. Adieu, dear Charlotte, love your affectionate cousin