"Bring it near to the bed, Caleb," said Mr Clayton; "I like to have you
near me. I am better since you came. To see you is always soothing to my
mind. I am reminded, then, that I am not altogether so worthless and
insignificant a worm as I believe myself, since I have been able to do
so much for you. Tell me, do you still like the employment that I
procured for you?"

"I would not resign it for any other that I know of. It is every thing
to me. I feel my independence, and I have been told that I am useful to
my fellow-creatures. It would be a bitter hour to me, sir, that should
find me deprived of my appointment."

"And that hour is very distant, Caleb, if you are sensible of your duty,
and grateful to the instruments which Heaven has raised for you. You
shall always feel your independence, and always hear that you are useful
and respected. Be but faithful. It is a lesson that I have repeated to
you many times--it cannot be told too often."

"You are a patient and a kind instructor, sir."

"Come closer to me, Caleb, and now listen. But first--look well at me,
and tell me what you see."

I looked as he required, but gave no answer.

"Tell me, do you see the lines and marks that beggary and ruin bring
upon the countenance of men? Does poverty glare from any one expression?
_I am a lost and ruined man._"