Was it not a very happy circumstance, dear Miss Emilia, that the dog was not killed in the scuffle, for we should still have remained in the most painful state of suspense, if we had not seen the animal perfectly well. You will see the dog, for Edward bought him, not for his beauty, but to make Sir Charles and his Lady perfectly easy. The surgeon soon followed, but did not find it necessary to bleed your brother; he applied a plaister to his leg, which was very painful on account of the searing. We hired a horse that he might not be obliged to walk home on it, and ran in high spirits by his side, for I was afraid that my mother might have heard of the accident before we arrived, and I knew the effect it would have on her spirits. What uncommon resignation and firmness of mind did your brother exhibit on this distressing occasion! Surely true courage can only arise from virtue. I always tenderly loved him, but never before felt such a degree of respect and admiration; even when he was in the most violent pain he thought less of himself than others. Dear Emilia, I know your heart will leap for joy, as does at present that of your affectionate friend WILLIAM. P. S. I must add a few lines to tell my dear sister that I am perfectly well. William has spoken too highly of my composure; if I had had more presence of mind, I should not have paid any attention to what those ignorant people said; I should have recollected how often I have heard stories in England about mad dogs and cats, that some trifling accident gave rise to. Tell my father and mother, and tell yourself, that I never before felt that I loved you all so very very tenderly. God bless and preserve us all, and may we be a comfort to each other. CHARLES. LETTER XXXIV. WILLIAM _to_ EMILIA.