LETTER XXXIX. _Mrs._ D—— _to_ WILLIAM. You are a comfort to me, my son, and Annette deserves my tender affection, she is so tractable and good. Your letters improve and please her; she requests me to read them twenty times over, that she may remember them. The tears were in her eyes when I read what you had written concerning the canary-bird. Poor Emilia, said she, how I do pity her. It gives me pleasure, replied I, that you participate in your friend’s grief; it is a sign that you have a good heart, and deserve the sympathy of others: mutual affection is necessary, it softens affliction. Indeed I have experienced it, mamma, answered she, that is, I have never been so much vexed at any thing, when I saw somebody pitied me, as when they laughed at me.—And I love those people who have compassion, they look so good-natured. But, William, I must give you a caution. The beginning of your letter was too alarming, it startled me; I thought at least that Emilia had been dreadfully hurt; if she had lost an eye or a limb it could not have shocked me more. You might have expressed your pity, as she was grieved, but not in such terms; what other words could you have used, had she lost her mother? Learn in future, when a thing of the same kind occurs, to be more cautious how you write, and do not confound proper feelings; nor even the expressions, which should convey to others a notion of what passes in your mind. I send you by this opportunity, some pocket-money, I wish I could afford to send you more, as you deserve it; for Lady Grandison informs me, that you are very careful, and try to make your clothes last long. In you this attention is a virtue, as you do it not only to spare your mother, whose circumstances are confined, but to have money to give to the poor. The œconomy and self-denial, which flows from such motives, is so laudable, that I hope the foolish sneers of thoughtless young people, will never make you think yourself mean-spirited, as they will call you: those only can be called mean, in the true sense of the word, who save to gratify their appetites. Write often, your conversations please me, and I mentioned before, that they improved Annette. D. LETTER XL. WILLIAM _to his_ MOTHER. I must give you another proof of the virtue and wisdom of my friend Charles. Yesterday, when we had done our lessons, for we never neglect them, we went to the wood, to take our pleasure, and found it very pleasant; but the thickness of the trees prevented our seeing a heavy storm that was approaching, till a violent peal of thunder made us jump. Emilia is very much afraid of thunder. EMILIA. Brother, it thunders—what shall I do? CHARLES.