Providence has placed men in different situations, to facilitate the main end of life, improvement in virtue; yet distress brings us all on a level again, we are then no longer master and servant, but men; worldly distinctions are forgot, and nature asserts her primitive equality. I would not neglect paying to the meanest of my fellow-creatures, the attention I might need from them, if I did, I should forfeit my own esteem. Was Lady Grandison well, I would stay this night to nurse Harry, and to-morrow send him one of his fellow-servants.—Charles eagerly caught his father’s hand.
CHARLES.
O, my dear father, do you go with my mother, and let me remain to represent you, let me nurse Harry. I should be happy to convince him, that I did not sit up with the old officer, because he was a gentleman, but because he was a man.
SIR CHARLES.
This offer I expected from you, my son, and do not want to be importuned to grant your request. William shall remain with you, and before to-morrow night, I will send Robert to take your place. With what delight do I perceive that your heart opens itself to those true pleasures which dignify and cultivate the mind. Your kindness to Harry will soften his bodily pain, and you will feel yourself in what exercises your chief happiness must consist.
Sir Charles soon after left us, and we went to sit in Harry’s room; as he was fallen asleep, we each took a book, we would not converse lest we should disturb him. Charles had enquired of his mother, what kind of nourishment was the most proper for the invalid, and took care to order it to be ready, that he might have some refreshment when he awoke. We had some weak wine and water, and a crust of bread; and in the night the landlord brought us some coffee.
Harry would fain have persuaded us to go to bed; but Charles resolutely refused, and it was very happy we did not, for the poor man was delirious, and tried to get out of bed. And I believe he would have torn the bandage off his leg, if Charles, who was the only person he recollected, had not entreated him to let it alone. He obeyed him—did I not say truly, it was happy we were there? I could not help observing, that while Charles was busy about him, he did not seem to be afraid of any accident which might have happened to himself. When Harry became composed, I mentioned to him the remark I had made, and owned I should have been afraid to have held Harry, when he looked so frantic. Hear his answer. When I am doing what I think right, I never feel any thing like fear—should I be killed assisting a fellow-creature, would it not be a glorious death? But I will tell you when I have felt fear. Once or twice I have been in danger in a crowd, into which I entered to procure amusement or gratify idle curiosity; then, indeed, I was afraid, and I thought, if I now lose my life, how can I answer to my Creator for risking it. This single thought deprived me of the courage you admire: nothing terrifies me, when I can pray to God, and am conscious I am obeying his holy will.
I shall not soon forget this night, dear mother; the stillness of it, and the sight of Harry, who was perhaps on his deathbed, made me think very seriously, and I could not help praying to God, to enable me so to live, that I might not fear death. I used often to wish to be rich, but in this sick chamber, these wishes appeared foolish, I only desired to be good. I felt the truth of Sir Charles’s observation, that this was the solid distinction between man and man; I wondered I had not thought so before, the virtuous only appeared great in my eyes, because they can conquer death, and do not dread the end of life. And Charles agreed with me, that those who overcome the sorest earthly evil, must certainly be the truly great. We talked of all the heroes we had read an account of in history, and observed that few died happily whose chief aim had not been to benefit mankind, rather than obtain a great name for themselves. But I should tire you if I was to relate the whole of our conversation, on subjects we seldom talked of before.
Towards morning Harry fell asleep, and woke quite sensible; I was glad of it, for it is a shocking thing to see a man deprived of reason. How dependent he is! I now recollect Dr. Bartlett’s words, That it is the right use of reason, which makes us independent of every human being.
We sat with Harry all day and endeavoured to divert him; and he was diverted. Robert came in the evening, and brought a note from Sir Charles, in which he desired us to sleep at the inn that night, and set off for London early in the morning.