Believe me, I thought little of myself, I had before me a dying old man—I could think of nothing else. I desired some clean straw to be laid, near the sick man’s bed, but I made no use of it. My uneasiness on your account, and my painful anxiety for the officer, banished sleep from my eyes. EMILIA. Poor Charles, to be obliged to sleep on straw. CHARLES. I should have slept on that as well as in my bed, if my heart had been at ease. SIR CHARLES. Charles is right; it is peace of mind and health of body which procures that refreshing sleep so necessary to recruit our exhausted powers. The softest bed will not afford rest to a troubled mind, or a disordered body. EDWARD. Who knows, when I am in the army, how many nights I may be obliged to sleep on the ground, without even the straw Emilia despises. SIR CHARLES. That may happen; and before young people make choice of a profession, they should arm themselves against the inconveniences, which consequently attend it: always remembering, that every state of life has its pains and pleasures. Every station is eligible, and will afford us heart-felt joy, if we fill it conscientiously: it is about our conduct, not our situation, that we should bestow most thought; and be more anxious to avoid evil than pain. EDWARD. I dare say, the king himself has his cares and sorrows as well as the meanest of his subjects. SIR CHARLES. Certainly. He is a man, none are exempt; God is no respecter of persons; they please him, who do good, and attend to truth: it matters not whether it be in a palace, or a mud hovel. When we were alone, Charles said, I knew my father would not be displeased with me; yet if it had been possible, I wished not only to have spared him the anxiety my absence occasioned, but to have asked his advice. I followed the impulse of my heart—yet I do it with more pleasure, when his sanction assures me my feelings do not lead my reason astray. WILLIAM. LETTER XLV. WILLIAM _to his_ MOTHER.