HI 
 
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 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Treasure %gom 
 
YOUNG GRAND ISO N. 
 
 A SERIES OF 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 YOUNG PERSONS 
 
 TO THEIR 
 
 FRIENDS. 
 
YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ASERIESOF 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 FROM 
 
 YOUNG PERSONS 
 
 TO THEIR 
 
 FRIENDS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE DUTCH OF 
 
 Madame DE CAMBON. 
 
 WITH 
 
 ALTERATIONS and IMPROVEMENTS- 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES, 
 
 T O L. II, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, N c "]2, ST. PAULS 
 CHU RCH-YARD, 
 
C 
 TREASUFC ^OOM 
 
 YOUNG GR ANDISON, 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 William D— to young Charles Grandisok, 
 
 I wish to inform you, my dear Gran- 
 difon, what joy I felt when I returned 
 back again to a dearly loved mother. — 
 But, no; — you who love your parents 
 fo tenderly, can eafily imagine what I 
 cannot defcribe. How full of tranf- 
 port was the moment, when, after a 
 year's abfence, I again embraced the dear 
 guardian of my youth. It was very 
 early in the morning when we entered 
 
 vol. ii. B the 
 
 171920 
 
2 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 the city _; my mother, as we had not 
 had a fair wind, did not expect me, and 
 of courfe was in bed. My fir ft eager 
 defire made me afcend the flairs -, but as 
 I was haftening to her bedchamber I 
 recollected myfelf, and returned foftly 
 back. It is ftill dark, thought I, fhall 
 I difturb her repofe, by- my fudden ap- 
 pearance at her bedfide ? Certainly not. 
 That would be miftaken love, mere 
 felfiih affection. You will, I think, ap- 
 prove of this prudence. Mean while I 
 was full of impatience : a thoufand 
 times I wifhed her to wake, counted 
 the minutes, and liftened continually. ■ — 
 At length the moment arrived ; my 
 heart beat quick; I almoft flew up the 
 flairs j but again I flopped myfelf, and 
 refting on the laft ftair, I called out, 
 Here is your own William, dear mother, 
 may I come in ? Was I not right, my 
 friend ? for the fudden furprife cf feeing 
 me. would have been too much for her 
 
 fpirits. 
 
LETTER I. 3 
 
 fpirits. Before I could well hear her 
 anfwer my patience was exhaufted, and 
 I ruftied in, and was at her bediide out 
 of breath ; I could only fay, My dear 
 mother. She preffed me to her bofom, 
 crying, My William, my fon !— and we 
 both wept together: but they were de- 
 lightful tears : I never in my life expe- 
 rienced fo much heart-felt fatisfadion. 
 
 My fifter Annette hurried on her 
 clothes as foon as Che heard of my ar- 
 rival, and jumped about me half mad 
 with joy. She then ran for the doll, 
 which your fifter Emilia fent her, and 
 made me obferve how well me had pre- 
 ferved it, and afked twenty queftions in 
 a breath about this dear fifter of your's. 
 In the mi-dft of them, the maid came to 
 tell her that her writing mafter waited 
 for her. I wifli it was an hour earlier, 
 faid (he, with tears in her eyes; the mo- 
 ment I fee you I am forced to leave you; 
 another day, I mould not mind writing 
 B « four 
 
 17182 
 
4 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 tour copies; but to-day I know not 
 how to go. Well, faid my mother, ob- 
 ferying the tears (he tried to hide, we 
 will defire the mafter, for this time, to 
 excufe you.. Annette flood a moment 
 irrefolute, then ran to her mother, and 
 faid, it is from pure goodnefs that you 
 indulge me; but I know you would ra- 
 ther I did not neglect my writing. Be- 
 fides, good Mr. M — might be dif- 
 pleafed with me; it would not be right 
 to fend fuch an old man away, I will 
 take my leffon. Would not Emilia do 
 fo>? and fhe Ikipped out of the room. 
 
 I believe all children might be in- 
 duced to learn to read and write, if it was 
 made an amufement to them, without all 
 that gloom which generally accompanies 
 leffons. Children are very fond of imi- 
 tating men if they are allowed to follow 
 their own inclinations ; yet are averfe to 
 conftraint : but you will think me too 
 ferious. And I haflen to tell you what 
 
 I fuffered 
 
LETTER I, 5 
 
 I differed when I left your dear family. 
 Your father's kindnefs melted my very 
 foul, and even the expectation of feeing 
 the bed: of parents did not cheer me 
 when I firft got into the packet-boat. 
 Farewell, fometime think of your affec- 
 tionate frien J, 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
 P. S. The anniverfary of Emilia's 
 birth is now paft without my being 
 able to celebrate it with you. With 
 what delight mould I have gathered her 
 a nofegay of my beft flowers, thofe hy- 
 acinths and jonquils, which I raifed 
 with fo much care. But I was denied 
 that pleafure; my heart longs to tell her 
 all the good wiflies you uiufi now pre- 
 fent to her in my name. May (he be 
 as happy as I wifh her to be ! I need 
 fay no more. 
 
 B 3 LET- 
 
6 YOUNG GkANDISON. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Charles to William. 
 
 Believe me, my dear William, I 
 very feverely feel your abfence: you will 
 be convinced of this when I tell you, 
 that this houfe, in which my beft 
 friends, my parents refide, for the fir ft 
 time in my life appeared dreary to me. 
 I ran from room to room, and could 
 fcarcely believe that I am at home. I 
 went into the chamber where we ufed 
 to amufe ourfelves; but vainly did I 
 endeavour to purfue the fame employ- 
 ments -, I recollected, every inftant, that 
 I was alone, and mould have wept, only 
 I was amamed of being fo weak. My 
 greateft pleafure was in looking over 
 your drawings, and pointing out their 
 beauties to Emilia. 
 
 I did 
 
LETTER II, 7 
 
 I did not forget to prefent to her 
 your fine flowers, and me inftantly put 
 them in water, that (lie might for a long 
 time enjoy their fragrance. 
 
 I agree with you, William, that it is 
 very pleafant to be employed ; but I am 
 afraid I mould not always have thought 
 fo if Dr. Bartlett had not taken fo much 
 pains to make my employments amufe- 
 ments. He has frequently reminded 
 me, that every duty foon becomes a 
 pleafure. How then can men neglecl: 
 their duties merely to be idle; the mod 
 lazy burthens on fociety, he added, 
 would think it a fevere punimment, if 
 during their whole life they were not 
 allowed to do any thing. How rnifera- 
 ble would they be, though furrounded 
 with all the conveniences, and even 
 fuperfluities of life. We mould be 
 happier rowing in the gallies, than in 
 this fettled liftlefs ftate, which puts a 
 flop to all improvement, for improve- 
 B 4 ment 
 
8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 merit is the main end of life, as it raifes 
 us above the brutes, and enables us . to 
 pleafe God. I am fure he was right, 
 for when I have reluctantly begun to 
 work, I foon found it very pleafant, fo 
 that I wimed to go on, particularly 
 when we have been digging in our gar- 
 den, or ufing our turning tools. Nay, 
 it has been the fame when I have been 
 reading or drawing. 
 
 1 mud now have done, for it is nine 
 o'clock, the hour I attend Dr. Bartlett, 
 and he expects me to be very punc- 
 tual, if I have not a good reafon to give 
 for my delay. Remember me to your 
 mother and fifter, and write often to 
 yours, 
 
 CHARLES GRANDISON, 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER III, 9 
 
 LETTER III. 
 William to Charles, 
 
 How agreeable, my dear Charles-, has 
 Dr. Bartlett made my life; by teaching 
 me the habit of exercifing my mind, he 
 has infpired me with curiofity to im- 
 prove myfelf in the fciences, and your 
 whole family have led me to love the 
 arts. I would draw, and learn mufic, 
 to be the companion of Emilia and 
 Charles. And pray thank your father 
 for the books and mathematical inftru- 
 ments he gave me, and I hope, by my 
 future diligence, to prove that I am 
 grateful for the inftruelions I received at 
 vour houfe. 
 
 I daily find, that induftry and per- 
 
 feverance overcome many difficulties. 
 
 But I receive flill more fatisfaclion from 
 
 my employments, when I perceive, the. 
 
 B 5 pleafure 
 
io YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 plea fare my improvement affords my 
 mother. — I never faw her fo happy iince 
 my father's death as (lie is at prefent. 
 Yefterday {he came into my room, and 
 found me with my compaffes in my 
 hand, and my books open before me. 
 Her eyes fwam in tears, and (he kiffed me 
 affectionately, exclaiming, how thank- 
 ful ought I to be to heaven, for having 
 •given me fuch a fon to comfort my wi- 
 dowed heart. Oh, Charles, what a fa- 
 tisfaftion I felt when I heard this faid 
 by a mother I tenderly loved, and every 
 day more and more refpedl:. — How va- 
 luable were thofe leffons, added me, 
 -which you were favoured with; and what 
 a bleffing for you has been, the example 
 of your friend. — Very true, my dear 
 mother, anfwered I, but at the fame 
 time I recollect, that you were my 
 firft teacher -> that you laid the ground- 
 work - y had you not accuftomed me to 
 diligence, and prepared me by your in- 
 9 ftrudions. 
 
LETTER III. it 
 
 {mictions, what mould I have learnt 
 in one year even with the bed mailers ? 
 You taught me to read the Dutch, 
 Englifh, and French languages, and the 
 knowledge of them prejudiced my friends 
 in England in my favour. 
 
 My mother, after having fat a few 
 moments, left me, but quickly returned, 
 with a cup of chocolate. A little re- 
 freshment, William, faid (he, will 
 enable you to w 7 ork with more pleafure, 
 and I know you are fond of chocolate. 
 Yes, anfvvered I, my dear Madam,, but I 
 receive more pleafure from this proof of 
 your goodnefs, than any refreshment 
 could ever afford me. 
 
 My mother then afked if I had any 
 thing particular to do in the evening, if 
 not, (he would give me a little commif- 
 lion. You may be fure that I eagerly 
 told her I iGhould be ready to do what- 
 ever the defired w 7 ho had a right to com- 
 B 6 mand 
 
12 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 mand. Well, faid (he, we fhall fee, 
 and left the room. 
 
 After (he left me I began to confider, 
 nay, to wonder, what it could be, for I 
 perceived a fmile on her countenance 
 when (he fpoke of it. Suddenly it 
 darted into my head that this was the 
 firft of April; you know it is the cuf- 
 tom to play tricks that day, and I 
 imagined 1 had difcovered the fecret, 
 and determined to be careful. We went 
 to dinner. I obferved, that Annette 
 knew fome thing of what was going 
 forwards, for I heard her fay foftly, No, 
 mother, I fhall fay nothing of it. I 
 went to my room, as ufual, after dinner 
 to draw. Annette came foon after to 
 take a leiTon, yet you will readily be- 
 lieve I did not afk her any questions, 
 though I was really very curious. She 
 was cautious, but could not help laugh- 
 ing feveral times. At lair, an hour be- 
 2 fore 
 
'LETTER III. 13 
 
 fore tea time, a violin was brought into 
 my chamber, and my mother foon after- 
 wards entered, followed by a genteel 
 looking man. I was aftonifhed, and 
 filently bowed. She took the violin out 
 of the cafe and gave it me, faying, this 
 gentleman is a mufic matter, who has 
 agreed to give you leffons, and I doubt 
 not you will be affiduous to profit by 
 his inftru&ions. This is the commif- 
 fion I mentioned this morning. Never, 
 no never, my dear Charles, was I more 
 agreeably furprifed; I firft took my mo- 
 ther, and then my mufic mafter, by the 
 hand, and fcarcely knew what I faid 
 when I attempted to thank her. 
 
 And what fay you, Charles, am I not 
 very happy that my mother enables me to 
 improve myfelf in my favourite amufe- 
 ment ? If I ever vifit dear England 
 again, I mail find no difficulty in play- 
 ing with you and Emilia. And what 
 adds to this obligation is the kindnefs 
 
 of 
 
i 4 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 of my mother in procuring me an ad- 
 vantage the narrownefs of her circum- 
 stances muft render very inconvenient. 
 
 I haftily ran down flairs after my 
 mafter left me, and could hardly refrain 
 boafting of her goodnefs before a lady 
 who came to drink tea with her. But 
 I was glad when me went away; then I 
 had an opportunity to give vent to my 
 grateful heart. 
 
 How much have I injured you,, my 
 dear mother, fad I, by fuppofing you 
 were going to play me an April trick ; 
 will you forgive me ? Yes, certainly, 
 anfwered fhe, and I am glad you men- 
 tioned it, that I may inform you from 
 W 7 hat cauie that foolifh cuftom, of 
 making fools of each other, took its 
 rife. It was from the abufe and fcoffing 
 which our Saviour fuffered when he was 
 fent from Pilate to Herod, and back 
 again to Pilate, by thole who had put on 
 him a fcarlet robe by way of derifion. 
 
 Ec 
 
LETTER III. 15 
 
 Be careful, then, never to mock the 
 wretched, for then you again infult Je- 
 fus Chrift, and neglect to follow his 
 example, who was the pattern of all vir- 
 tue. Befides, many quarrels arife from 
 foolifh frolicks, and we mould never 
 enjoy a joke that gives a fellow-creature 
 pain. 
 
 Two hours at leaft of the twenty- 
 four I fhall now devote to mufic, though 
 my mafter is to come but twice a week; 
 yet I muiVconftantly practife to prepare 
 myfelf for his leffons : I fhall then rife 
 an hour fooner, for I have often heard 
 Dr. Bartlett fay, that five or fix hours 
 fleep is fufficient for a perfon in health* 
 Farewell, remember your friend 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 LET- 
 
16 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER 17. 
 Charles to William. 
 
 Again do I fee return that delightful 
 feafon in which every thing appears to 
 be revived, and we are once more at our 
 beloved Grandifon Hall. You remem- 
 ber well how pleafantly laft fummer 
 pafl away; the fhady woods, thefe 
 charming walks, all brought you to my 
 remembrance, and particularly our little 
 garden. 
 
 Edward has left us for fome time; 
 his friends have procured a commiffion 
 for him; but I have another companion, 
 my coufin James, the eldeft fon of Lord 
 G — . He is a handfome lively youth, 
 and, my father fays, has a good under- 
 standing, yet I obferve he does not find 
 that pleafure in the country that you 
 and I do. He is of a humourous turn, 
 
 and 
 
LETTER III. 17 
 
 and fometimes treats the moil: ferious 
 matters with too much levity. His dif- 
 pofition would better agree with Ed- 
 ward's than mine, for he loves a frolick, 
 'and calls mifchief fun ; however he has 
 a good heart, and poffeffes a winning 
 chearfulnefs of temper. 
 
 We yefterday took a pleafant ride ; 
 Emelia accompanied us : we went out 
 of the high road to a fmall village, and 
 ftopt at a little farm houfe to purchafe 
 fome fruit. We had not been long in a 
 little room near the garden when we 
 heard a confufed noife in the kitchen, 
 and I ran out to enquire the caufe, 
 leaving my coufin with my lifter. A 
 young man, well dreffed, ran haftily 
 through the paffage; he had been dif- 
 puting with the farmer, who now al- 
 lowed him to conceal himfelf in the 
 garden. 
 
 He was fcarcely out of fight, when a 
 refpeclable looking woman ran in, ex- 
 claiming, 
 
iS YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 exclaiming, My fon is here; I muft, I 
 will fee him ! A mother who demanded 
 her fon, and a fon who avoids his mo- 
 ther, thought I, this is fomething un- 
 common, I felt extreme compaffion, 
 which feemed to command me to affiit 
 her : who, indeed, could fee a diftreffed 
 mGther without being moved ? You 
 weep, faid I; I cannot fee a parent's tear 
 without concern ; has any misfortune 
 befallen your fon ? Yes, me replied, I 
 am almoft without hope -, perhaps it is 
 even now too late to fave him from 
 ruin. I requeued her to go into the 
 parlour to my fifter, whilft I fpoke to 
 the farmer, and fought for the fon. 
 Emilia was furprifed to fee me enter 
 with a woman apparently diftreffed, but 
 with companionate politenefs fhe took 
 her hand, while I reached a chair. I 
 ftopt a moment, afraid to afk her any 
 queftion, left: fhe mould think me im- 
 pertinent ; yet I wifhed her to fpeak that 
 
 I might 
 
LETTER IV. 19 
 
 I might know what to fay to her fon. 
 She foon broke filence, and when her 
 tears allowed her to fpeak articulately, 
 faid, "your kindnefs affects me, I am an 
 unfortunate widow, who formerly knew 
 better days, and never thought I mould 
 be obliged to work for the neceflaries of 
 life; but the fudden death of my huf- 
 band, a clergyman, has thrown me des- 
 titute on the world. Pie left me a fon, 
 who might have made my life comfort- 
 able, if he had not been drawn aiide from 
 the path of virtue by bad company. 
 Falling from one error to another, in- 
 flead of helping to foften my griefs, he 
 has made me fee] that my affii&ions in- 
 deed are very heavy. My in treaties, my 
 threatenings, have all been fi uitlefs ; I 
 cculd not feparate him- from his thought- 
 lefs companions, or induce him to fol- 
 low any ufeful employment, and " 
 
 here her fobs prevented her from pro- 
 ceeding, when me added, " I have juft 
 
 heard 
 
20 YOUNG GRANDSON. 
 
 heard, that he has entered himfelf as t 
 failor, and is foon to go on board a man 
 of war which is now preparing for fea. 
 If he would exert himfelf he might 
 gain an honeft livelihood, and be a com- 
 fort to his unfortunate mother: it would 
 almoft break my heart to part with him ; 
 but though I could part with him for 
 his good, I cannot bear that he mould 
 go with the companions who feduced 
 him from his duty, and flrft led him 
 into vice; fhould he become thoroughly 
 vicious, I mould then lofe him for ever, 
 and he would bring my grey hairs with 
 forrow to the grave." — I could not re- 
 frain my tears, Emilia, and even James 
 wept. — No, Madam, faid I, he (hall not 
 leave you, I know where he is, and I 
 will haflen to him, to awaken him to 
 repentance, and I haftily left the room. 
 
 I found the young man in a fhed at 
 the bottom of the garden, and the fol- 
 lowing converfation enfued. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
LITTER IV. 11 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Shun me not, Sir, I am your friend, 
 at leaft I defire to be fo ; I have heard 
 that you wifti to hide yourfelf, and that 
 even from your parent; pardon the li- 
 berty I take, I cannot help endeavouring 
 to divert you from your defign : it 
 grieves me to fee that you avoid your 
 mother. 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 I muft not, I cannot fee her again; 
 do not betray me, I befeech you, but 
 perfuade the matter of the houfe to let 
 me efcape without feeing her. 
 
 CHARLE S. 
 
 Could I defire the man to do this ! I 
 who have fccn your diftreft mother 
 weep, and have wept with her I 
 
 BRADLEY, 
 
 How I has ihe told you all ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
22 YOtfNG GRANDISON. 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Yes, fhe has told me .you would fly 
 from her, you, her only fon, and that it 
 will coft her her life. What a proof of 
 tendernefs! Can you be unconcerned? 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 My mother is in neceffitous circum- 
 ftances ; fhe cannot fupport me according 
 to my birth. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 It is noble in you not to wiffi to be a 
 burthen to your mother ; a Ton of your 
 age fhould not expeft a fupport, except 
 his parents are bleft with aiHuence. But 
 I have been informed you are very 
 ingenious, and have received a good 
 education j heaven has not given you 
 thefe talents for no purpofe. 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 I muft endeavour to advance my for- 
 tune in a foreign country. 
 
 •^ CHARLES. 
 
LETTER IV. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 *3 
 
 You will find no mother in a foreign 
 Country; and can you leave a parent al- 
 ready overwhelmed by misfortune ? 
 would you fnatch from her her latt fup- 
 port ? Surely you have no affeclion for 
 her. 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 What, Sir, no affection for a mother 
 who has done fo much for me ! 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 A orange proof you would give of it, 
 to leave her in folitary mifery, when fhe 
 declares your abfence would be her 
 death. 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 That is a weaknefs ; how many mo- 
 thers are there that mud be Separated 
 from their children ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
24 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 CHARLES 
 
 I acknowledge it; but a weaknefs that 
 arifes from an affection for you mould 
 rather endear her to you. Excufe me, 
 Sir, but I think that children who have 
 fuch tender apprehenfive parents, ought 
 to facrifice a wavering uncertain prof- 
 pect of happinefs rather than grieve 
 them. Nay, it would be for their own 
 advantage, if, as my tutor fays, no hap- 
 pinefs is to be obtained by the violation 
 of duty. Should you return from fea 
 fuccefsful, and find her dead, repentance 
 would imbitter your whole future life, 
 for fhe affures me you have naturally an 
 affe&ionate good difpoiition. Continue 
 with her; when a mother in poverty 
 begins to labour under a weight of 
 years, it would be cowardly in a fon to 
 defert her. 
 
 BRAD- 
 
LETTER IV. as 
 
 BRADLEY. 
 
 What mall I do, I have not learned 
 any bufinefs, would you have me work 
 in the fields ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 There is nothing mameful in purfu- 
 ing any honeft employment; but you 
 are not reduced to that fituation. Any 
 ■one who has a tolerable understanding, 
 and has had a good education, may make 
 himfelf friends by his diligence; in fhort, 
 there is no cne who is virtuous and in- 
 duftrious but may gain a fubfiftence, 
 and fecure himfelf refpeft and efteem. 
 Come, confent; let me conduct you to 
 your mother^ me has lived for you, you 
 in yo*ur turn ought to live for her. Our 
 parents are our beft friends, whofe lofs 
 nothing can recompenfe; let thofe go 
 to fea who have no parents to weep for 
 them, who have no abilities to pufli 
 them forward in the employments 
 
 vol. ii. C which 
 
26 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 which require mental exertions; it be- 
 comes not you who have fuch qualifica- 
 tions. 
 
 B R^A DLEY. 
 
 It is too late, I have already entered ; 
 I have no alternative; go I muft, 
 
 C H A R L E S. 
 
 That difficulty may eafily be removed. 
 Come, throw yourfelf at your mother's 
 feet, and give her caufe to weep for joy, 
 —At laft I perfuaded him, and he 
 filently followed me, very much dif- 
 treffed. 
 
 The mother no fooner faw us enter 
 the room, than fhe fell on his neck. 
 Oh ! William, how tender is the affec- 
 tion of a mother for her children. Brad- 
 ley feemed truly penitent and abafhed ; 
 but I (hall not attempt to defcribe all 
 the affecting circumfiances. Afterwards 
 he took me afide, and faid, I am really 
 
 5 forr y 
 
LETTER IV. 27 
 
 forry to leave my mother, yet I muft 
 fulfil my engagement, for I have fpent 
 the bounty money; and the captain 
 would not be willing to part with a 
 flout hand fuppofing I could return it, 
 which is impoflible. I bid him be eafy, 
 and if he would promife to remain with 
 his mother, I did not doubt but that I 
 mould prevail on my father to ufe his 
 intcreft. with the captain. I faid the 
 fame to his mother, vvhofe acknov/ledo> 
 ment made me blufh, and, to avoid 
 them, I haftened our departure, and 
 thought the road very tedious till I ar- 
 rived at Grandifon Hall, and had in- 
 terefted my father in this poor woman's 
 favour. I am to fee Bradley next Fri- 
 day : I defired him to call on me ; before 
 that time my father will take me to the 
 neighbouring fea-port, where the veffel 
 is fitting out for fea.— You fhall hear 
 all about it: till then adieu. 
 
 C 2 LET- 
 
2 g YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 t, E T T E R V. 
 
 Charles to William. 
 
 Well, my dear friend, my father has 
 exerted his intereft, and the captain has 
 confented to releafe young Bradley from 
 his engagement. I returned the bounty 
 money ; my father would have reim- 
 burfed me, but I wiihed to do fomething 
 myfelf. 
 
 I then vifited the unhappy mother, 
 who joyfully received the news, and even 
 the fon thanked me with tears in his eyes, 
 for he appears to have a good difpofition, 
 though he has not fufficient firmnefs to 
 bear the laugh of his diffipated compa- 
 nions. The poor woman dill feems alive 
 to fear, but my father has promifed to pro- 
 cure him fome employment ; mean while 
 Dr. Bartlett will endeavour to prepare 
 him for it, by teaching him habits of 
 
 regularity 
 
LETTER V. 29 
 
 regularity and order. That good man 
 thought of making him copy fome of 
 his fermons, and making extracts from 
 books. This tafk young Bradley readily 
 performs in the fteward's room, and he 
 imagines that he is making himfelf ufe- 
 ful, when in reality this is only afcheme 
 of the benevolent Doctors to improve 
 him, and detach him from his former 
 idle companions. It already feems to 
 have had a good effect on him, and 
 my tutor fays, he perceives a fpark of 
 emulation blowing up in his mind, that 
 he hopes will ftrengthen his weak re- 
 folves, and make him, in time, a vir- 
 tuous character. 
 
 Our little garden is now in fine order 
 again, and I work at it with pleafure, 
 becaufe I have got a new companion. 
 Can you guefs who ? no other than 
 your old friend Emelia. She has got a 
 drefs proper to work in, and rifes with 
 the lark to afiift me ; indeed fhe often 
 C 3 joins 
 
30 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 joins in the general concert, and fings as 
 chearfully as the birds that hop around 
 us. I afked her, yefterday, if (lie was 
 not afraid to dirty her hands. You 
 mean to laugh at me, faid (lie, fmiling, 
 I hope I f&all never be a fine lady, or 
 forget that my hands were given me for 
 fome other -purpofe than to keep them 
 foft and white. Believe me, brother, a 
 daify J have raifed by my own labour, 
 i$ a thoufand times more acceptable to 
 me than the fineft nofegay prefented by 
 the gardener. 
 
 But I muft here clofe my letter, my 
 mother has fent for me to go an airing 
 with her, and I muft not make her wait. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 IE T- 
 
L E T T E R VI. 31 
 
 LETTER VI.' 
 Charles to William. 
 
 I am Co happy, my dear William, I 
 can fcarcely tell you what has made me 
 fo. I am out of breath with joy i you 
 are to come, with your dear mother, to 
 live always in England. My kind pa* 
 rent communicated the joyful tidings to 
 me, and added, that fhe had prevailed 
 on Mrs. D — to approve of her plan. 
 Never, never, was T more agreeably fur- 
 prized ; but I will tell you all in a cir- 
 cumftantial manner, when I have taken 
 breath, for my heart beats violently. — 
 Well, I am now more compofed. After 
 breakfaft, this morning, my mother de- 
 fired me to make an excufe to Dr. Bart- 
 lett, and follow her into, the garden, 
 when I joined her. I will give you our 
 converfation in the ufual way. 
 
 C 4 LADY 
 
32 YOUNG GRANDISOtf. 
 LADY G R A N D I S O N. 
 
 We confented you know, Charles, to 
 let you fpend next winter, and part of 
 the fpring, with your friend William ; 
 but fome particular reafon obliges us to 
 change our minds, and I doubt not you 
 will chearfully acquiefte in our deter- 
 mination. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Yes, for I know you muft have a fuf- 
 ficient reafon for altering your mind. 
 
 LADY GRANDISON. 
 
 But perhaps the difappointment will 
 make you \cry unhappy ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You have taught me to be fincere. I 
 acknowledge I am difappointed, and 
 cannot in a moment forget it; I have 
 promifed myfelf fo much pleafure, and 
 William and I had formed fo many 
 
 plans : 
 
L E T T E R VI. 33 
 
 plans : I have fo long thought of vifit- 
 ing Holland, that I really long to fee it. 
 But do not be angry, the pleafure of 
 obeying you and my father will out- 
 weigh every other confideration. 1 (hall 
 not have to part with you all, and I 
 have often thought with pain of the 
 time when I mould leave you — when the 
 fea would divide us. 
 
 LADY GRANDISON, 
 
 The fea will not divide us ; but you 
 are to leave us for fome time to vifit 
 
 our eftate in C , and to make fome 
 
 neceflary alterations there in your fa- 
 ther's name. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 I fhall endeavour to do the beit, and 
 hope you wilL have no reafon to com- 
 plain, of your young fie ward, 
 
 C 5 lads 
 
34 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LADY GRANDISON. 
 
 I expe&ed an anfwer like this; but 
 the farm houfeyou will inhabit, is fitu- 
 ated almoft in a defart ; you will have 
 few companions, and no amufements, 
 except the pleafure of relieving the 
 poor. We wifb you to experience, that 
 the confcioufnefs of being ufeful is the 
 trueft pleafure ; we can do without 
 company when we have peace in our 
 minds. I find pleafure every where, 
 for every where I find fomething to do. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Reading and mufic will be my chief 
 amufements; yet I {hall want you, I 
 (hall want my father and William; but 
 I ihall write to you often, and furely 
 you will anfwer all my letters. — Yes, I 
 fhall be happy — fend me away as foon 
 as you pleafe. Here I paufed a little, 
 and was thoughtful, but I do not know 
 
 wiat 
 
L E T T E R VI. 35 
 
 what I thought of, tears rufhed in- 
 voluntarily into my eyes — my mother 
 obferved it. 
 
 LADY GRANDISON, 
 
 Why, Charles, do you hide any thing 
 from me ? fpeak, you are forrowful, 
 open your heart to your mother. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Forgive my weaknefs, . dear Madam, 
 I am afhamed of it. Let me foon fct 
 out for the farm, I will not flied a tear 
 I promife you, and you mall fee what 
 chearful letters I will write. 
 
 LADY GRANDISON. 
 
 You are the child of my heart j your 
 fubmiffion to your earthly parents proves 
 to me, that you will in future refign 
 yourfelf to the will of your heavenly 
 father, who never affli&s his children 
 but to improve them. But your trial at 
 C 6 this 
 
36 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 this time will not be fo fevere as you 
 imagine; I will fully explain myfelf; I 
 did not at firft fpeak explicitly that I 
 might receive this proof of your fub- 
 mifiion to our will. You are firft to 
 accompany Dr. Bartlett on a vifit to his 
 relations; and from thence go to the farm 
 for a fliort time, where you will find am- 
 ple employment, in vifiting and afiifting 
 the poor. She paufed a moment for 
 my anfwer, and then went on; but 
 what think you, Charles, if Mrs. D — , 
 your friend William, and little Annette, 
 were to come and refide in England ? 
 (I liftened with all my ears, and me pro- 
 ceeded) fee here is a letter from Mrs. 
 D— , in which you will find, that the 
 propofal gave her great pleafure. We 
 are to prepare a houfe for her, and, as 
 you fay you long to fee Holland, it is 
 now our defign to let you take a trip 
 there, to conduct your friend and his 
 mother to your native country, where it 
 9 will 
 
L E T T E R VI. 37 
 
 will be our ftudy to make their fituation 
 comfortable. What fay you, Charles? 
 
 I don't know what I faid, William, I 
 was almoft wild with joy. And now I 
 have told you all, I will run again and 
 thank thofe dear parents ; indeed, I feel 
 quite reftlefs, I cannot fit (till. In two 
 months we {hall meet. Farewell, 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 LET- 
 
38 YOUNG GRANDJSON. 
 
 LETTER Vli. 
 William to Charles. 
 
 Could I believe that I mould ever 
 have been fo happy as to have a prof- 
 pedl of fpending all my life with you 
 and your beloved family! No, I was 
 even afraid to hope for fuch happinefs, 
 but now I number the days till I (hall 
 fee you: I have already put my books in 
 order; every thing is waiting for you. I 
 gave my mother your letter to read ; (he 
 bellowed the warmed praifes on my dear 
 friend. He feems to have a jud fenfe 
 of the duty due to parents, faid die; a 
 good fon always fuppofes that tender 
 parents have a fufficient reafon for what 
 they do when they deprive him of any- 
 little gratification ; he then fubmits 
 without reluctance, or even enquiry, 
 certain that it is for his good. A child 
 
 that 
 
LETTER VII. 39 
 
 that thus fubmits will, when a man, be 
 as refigned to the difpenfations of heaven. 
 I could not forbear giving your letter 
 to one of my young acquaintance to read 
 when we were walking. I will relate 
 our converfation. 
 
 WILL I A M. 
 
 What think you, Frederick, of this 
 inftance of willing fubmiflion ? 
 
 FREDERICK. 
 
 It is praife worthy, but I acknow- 
 ledge myfelf hot fo obedient. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Such a chearful fubmiflion might 
 poflibly require more refolution than 
 either you or I have -> however it is 
 pofiible; and as we .plight to fhew our- 
 felves grateful for the kindnefles we have 
 received, the only way we have of doing 
 fo is conflantly to obey the injunctions 
 
 of 
 
4 o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 of our parents, and never to murmur if 
 they even feem hard. 
 
 FREDERICK. 
 
 This may be true, yet thefe confedera- 
 tions would not change a defart, as Lady 
 Grandifon called her farm, into an 
 agreeable abode 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 No, but yet I might fay to myfelf, in 
 fuch a folitary place, I hope I am be- 
 loved by my Creator, becaufe I have done 
 my duty ; then I fhould be much hap- 
 pier than in the mod: magnificent palace, 
 upbraiding myfelf with having done 
 wrong, and having made God angry 
 by difobeying my parents. 
 
 FREDERICK. 
 
 I think, however, your friend would 
 have paft his time very heavily at the 
 farm. 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
LETTER VII. 41 
 
 WILLIA M. 
 
 Thofe days would foon have been 
 over, but the recollection of having 
 done right, my mother fays, is a lading 
 pleafure. 
 
 We then turned towards home; it 
 was a very fine evening, and I wanted 
 Frederick to obferve the beautiful 
 country, and wondered he could p?X& 
 through fuch pleafing fcenes with in- 
 difference. It is with you, I hope, to 
 wander over thefe pleafant walks; in the 
 mean time be happy, and think of your 
 friend 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 LET* 
 
42 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 Charles te W i l l i a m. 
 
 i 
 
 This morning I fet out, with Di\ 
 Bartlett, for the country where my fa- 
 ther's eftate is fituated. I fhall not have 
 many opportunities of fending letters 
 to you, yet I ihall not negledt to 
 write. 
 
 The account you gave me of Frede- 
 rick does not prejudice me in his favour. 
 
 I was obliged to leave off fuddenly 
 when I had written thus, for my coufin 
 G — , who accompanied us part of the 
 way, came to tell me that Dr. Bartlett 
 was waiting for me. We left him near 
 home, and for fome time we miffed his 
 fprightly rallies 5 but his tafte for hu- 
 mour, to which I think he is too much 
 addidted, often hurt me while we were 
 
 on 
 
LETTER VIII. 43 
 
 on the road. The firft inftance, that I 
 now recollect, had a reference to Dr. 
 Bartlett. 
 
 As the good old man was ftepping 
 out of his carriage, his foot flipped, and 
 he fell with great force on the ground. 
 While I aflifted him to rife, I turned 
 my eyes on my coufin, whom I faw en- 
 deavouring in vain to fmoth:r a laugh ; 
 at lad he was obliged to run into the 
 houfe to give way to it, out of our hear- 
 ing. I felt that I was red with anger; 
 nothing difpleafes me more than to hear 
 any one laugh at an accident. I have 
 often heard people fay they cannot help 
 it, but in my opinion it is a great proof 
 of infenfibility. The mod ludicrous 
 accident never makes me fmile when 
 I fee a fellow-creature, or even an 
 animal, in pain. I could not forbear 
 communicating my fentiments to my 
 coufin as foon as we were alone. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
44 YOUKG GRAND1SON. 
 CHARLES.' 
 
 I have often heard you fay you loved 
 and efteemed Dr. Bartlett. 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 Yes -, why do you doubt it ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 And yet when you faw him fall, not 
 knowing whether he had hurt himfelf, 
 you began to laugh, and flew into the 
 houfe without making any inquiries* 
 
 JAMES, 
 
 It is not in my power to avoid laugh- 
 ing when I fee any one fall in a ridicu- 
 lous manner; when the Doctor's wig 
 fell off, he looked fo droll — I cannot 
 help laughing, even now, when I think 
 of it. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You can avoid laughing if you will ; 
 you have a good heart, I have feen you 
 feel compafiion. 
 
 JAMES, 
 
LETTER V4II. 45 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 No, it is not want of compaffion ; 
 and yet it is true I cannot keep myfelf 
 from laughing : I wifti I knew the rea- 
 fon. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Let us try to find it out. Suppofe 
 you faw a man without an arm or a leg, 
 who did every thing in an awkward 
 laughable manner, yet an inclination to 
 laugh would be inftantly retrained by 
 fear of offending an unfortunate fellow- 
 creature : but let the hat fly gff on one 
 fide, and the wig, on the other, and then 
 you inftantly laugh, without remember- 
 ing a leg or an arm may foon be broken, 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 I believe you are right. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 It is beft, then, to fix your attention 
 on the fevere pain a perfon may fuffer, 
 
 and 
 
4 6 YOUNG GR'ANDISON. 
 
 and then your involuntary laughter 
 
 would fubfide into pity. 
 
 J A M E S. 
 
 I fear this will not help me much. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You fear, then, that your heart is not 
 good. 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 No, not fo neither, for I declare to 
 you, I was very forry when I faw Dr. 
 Bartlett had hurt himfelf, and then I 
 had no inclination to laugh. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Then I am right ; the laugh ceafed as 
 foon as you gave way to compaffion, and 
 of courfe this thoughtlefs unfeeling 
 mirth may be reftrained. Indeed if you 
 had confidered a moment, you would 
 have felt the impropriety, And been 
 
 afhamed 
 
L £ T.T E R VIII. 47 
 
 aftiamed of yourfelfj what, laugh when 
 a refpedtable old man had hurt himfelf ! 
 — Dr. Bartlett now entered, and we 
 changed the fubjecl:. 
 
 In the evening we went a walking 
 together, and paffed by a miferable hut, 
 at the door of which a poor old blind 
 man flood. His grey hair hung about 
 his hollow cheeks, which poverty feemed 
 to have deeply marked ; it was wet with 
 the labours of the day, for he had been 
 turning a wheel, as I found afterwards j 
 his trembling hands were fupported by 
 a crutch, on which his chin refted, and 
 his clouded eyes were turned up to hea- 
 ven without receiving a ray of light, 
 You (hall hear the converfation that this 
 fight produced. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What unhappy wretches there are in 
 the world 1 look at that old man, coulin. 
 
 JAMES, 
 
4 8 YOUNG GRANDISON, 
 
 J A M E S. 
 
 You are always looking at what gives 
 you pain. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 He is blind and old, I cannot help 
 pitying him. 
 
 j A m e s. 
 
 But your pity will not reftore his 
 fight : let us go on, it is growing dark. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, I mud fir ft afk him if he has any 
 children. 
 
 JAMES. 
 
 Nonfenfe! Why ftiould you afk him 
 fuch a queftion ? 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 Becaufe it would relieve me to find 
 that he had good children 5 I fhould not 
 
 then 
 
LETTER VIII. 49 
 
 then think him fo unhappy, they will 
 certainly wait on him, ferve, and comfort 
 him. We next fpoke to the old man, 
 and I heard with pleafure that he had a 
 worthy daughter, who works hard to 
 maintain him, and he himf-lf, forae- 
 times, turns a wheel, and does other 
 things, that blind men can do. 
 
 My coufin's fondnefs for tricks now 
 led him to commit an acl of cruelty 
 that made me very angry. I gave the 
 blind man a trifle, and James, when he 
 left the houfe, felt in his pocket a little 
 while, and then flipped fomething into 
 his hand, fc\ying 9 there is a guinea for 
 you. Joy was vifible in every feature 
 of the old man's face. We flepped for- 
 ward. How I love yau ! exclaimed I, 
 you have done a noble action. And do 
 you think I would give a guinea to a 
 ftranger, replied he. I interrupted him, 
 with furprife,— You told him fo ; what 
 did you give him ? It was only a new 
 
 (hilling 
 
 V0I » »• D Vexation 
 
50 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 Vexation and anger tied my tongue: 
 at laft I could not help fpeaking with 
 fome refentment. Such a trick does you 
 little honour ; deceit is a deteftable 
 thing when done to procure any advan- 
 tage ; but what extreme cruelty to fport 
 with the poverty of a blind old man. 
 Did not his look of pleafure wound your 
 confcience ? You muft have a heart of 
 ftone if it did not touch you ! Fine 
 preaching! exclaimed he; and he caught 
 hold of my arm to make me quicken 
 my pace, but I rumed from him, and 
 obeyed the impulfe of my heart. I re- 
 turned to the old man, thruft a guinea 
 into his hand, and foon overtook James, 
 who then appeared afhamed, gueffing 
 what I had been doing, for I dropped the 
 fubjecT:, and only mention it to you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER IX, $t 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 Charles to William. 
 
 I am now arrived at the farm, dear 
 William; the day is juft beginning to 
 dawn ; the farmers are going whittling 
 to work, whilfl I am writing to my 
 friend. You know I have been accus- 
 tomed to .rife early, and it would be now 
 irkfome to me to lie in bed the fweeteil 
 hours of the day. I am, at this moment, 
 fitting near an open window, and the 
 birds, juft awake, are hopping from 
 branch to branch ; the flowers feem re- 
 vived by the dew $ in ihort, there is a 
 delightful frefhnefs in the morning 
 which gives me a new flow of fpirits* 
 Is this, thought I, catting my eyes 
 around, the defart my mother fuppofed 
 would prove dreary to me ? I am going 
 to take a ride, in order to viiit forne of 
 D 2 the 
 
52 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 the tenants houfes, and even the little 
 huts, that I may be able to give my fa- 
 ther a juffc account of the eftate, and 
 prevail on him to relieve thofe I find in 
 diftrefs* 
 
 I am now returned, and will give you 
 an account how I have fpent my time. 
 I was particularly affected by the fight 
 of an old infirm woman, who had taken ' 
 the charge of two children, when their 
 parents, her fon and daughter, fuddenly 
 died. They were unexpectedly fnatched 
 away, and left their helplefs orphans 
 entirely destitute, with no relation to 
 look up to for fupport during their in- 
 fant years, except a grandmother, who 
 was fcarcely able to earn a fubfiftence 
 for herfelf. The houfe, or rather the 
 hut, in which I found them by accident, 
 did but juft fcreen them from the in- 
 clemency of the weather. My father 
 would not let his dogs live in fuch a 
 wretched hovel. As I was riding 
 
 leifualy 
 
LETTER IX. 53 
 
 leifurely along, my attention was roufed 
 by the fobbing of a little girl of about 
 fix years old, who cried bitterly ; a boy r 
 flill younger, flood by her, and defired 
 her not to cry, for he would fifh it out. 
 They then ran to a well, and I de- 
 mounted to follow them, and en- 
 quire what they had lo-ft, fearing they 
 might fall in. And what do you think, 
 William, it was he wanted to fifh up ? 
 Alas ! a little piece of bread that his 
 fitter had dropped into the water, which 
 was very muddy. Let that dirty piece 
 fink, faid I, I will go into the houfe for 
 another piece for you. No, no, faid the 
 poor girl, again weeping, fhe has none 
 for herfelf, nor any money to buy a loaf 
 to-day. I often put in my pocket a 
 piece of bread to give my horfe on the 
 road, I had now half a roll, which I 
 immediately gave her. Joy beamed in 
 her countenance, fhe fmiled amidft her 
 tears, and breaking it into two, gave 
 D 3 half 
 
54 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 half to her brother; my heart was 
 moved, I could not be fatisfied with hav- 
 ing given to 'two human beings only the 
 morfel I defigned for my horfe. Their 
 hut was at fome diftance.from the vil- 
 lage, to which I found the old woman 
 could feldom crawl ; I was determined 
 to go and procure them a breakfaft, and 
 again mounted my horfe, rede to the 
 village, and entered a chandler's fliop, 
 and bought fome bread and cheefe. The 
 man behind the counter view r ed me from 
 head to foot; I felt at firft a little 
 afhamed, and then felt vexed with my- 
 ielf for being fo. I quickly returned to 
 the hut, and was, indeed, a mod wel- 
 come vifitant. The children killed my 
 hand, and the old woman, when I gave 
 her half a guinea, almoft wept for joy. 
 
 I intend particularly to recommend 
 thefe poor objects to my father's notice, 
 and meanwhile have given orders that 
 the hut fhould be repaired, and fome 
 
 fuel 
 
LETTER IX. 
 
 fuel and proviiions fent them from the 
 farm. 
 
 I could not forbear, as I rode home, 
 continually anticipating the pleafure I 
 fhculd experience, when I faw them 
 r n in a more comfortable abode, with 
 a little garden and fome other conveni- 
 ences ; fi nee they fufFer enough without 
 having the wind ruffling through every 
 corner of the houfe, and the rain ooz- 
 ing through the thatch when they are 
 in bed. When I am a man, I hope I 
 fhall never forget the refolutions I have 
 now made, one of the principal is, 
 to fee myfelf that my poor tenants and la- 
 bourers always have a comfortable warm 
 habitation -, I will try too to remem- 
 ber that health is more neceffary to them 
 than to the rich, and that it is my duty 
 to rendertheir fituation eafy. Adieu. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 D a L B TV 
 
5 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Charles to William, 
 
 I am now again with my good Dr. 
 Bartlett at a fmall, but pleafant, country 
 feat, belonging to a widow, his fiiter- 
 in-law, who has but one daughter, an 
 agreeable, and indeed a very handfome 
 girl. .As me has. always lived in the 
 country with her mother, me has had 
 time to improve her underftanding, by 
 reading to her books calculated to im- 
 prove a young mind. Dr. Bartlett has 
 kept up a conftant correspondence with 
 her, in which they have difcuffed 
 the different fubjedls of her reading ; 
 fuch as natural philofophy, geography, 
 afironomy, and hiftory. But theie em- 
 ployments have not fo engrciTed her 
 time, as to prevent her learning to iing, 
 draw, and dance; nay, the Doc/tor tells 
 \ me, 
 
LETTER' X. 5^ 
 
 me, that fhe has, for a year or two part: 
 and fhe is now but eighteen, had 
 the management of the houfe ; fhe rifes 
 fo early that all family affairs are fettled 
 before breakfafl, and do not interfere 
 with her other employments. Henrietta 
 fings, works, and reads, all the day, and 
 I never faw any one have a finer bloom, 
 or a more cheerful countenance. The 
 Dodtor calls me. Adieu. 
 
 C HAi L E S, 
 
 D 5 LEX- 
 
58 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 Charles to Willia m. 
 
 Dr. Bartlett went this morning 
 to vifit an old friend, and left me to 
 comfort the females, as he, fmiling,. 
 faid, who would have been quite dif- 
 confolate, if they had loft both their 
 beaux at once. I enjoy here all the 
 pleafures of the country 5 ride, walk, 
 and go on the water, with the ions of a 
 neighbouring clergyman, whom he has 
 educated himfelf. They are modeft, 
 fenlible young men, and fo far advanced 
 in their fludies, that I felt yeflerday 
 evening, after our converfation, a little 
 vexed with rr.yfelf for not having made 
 a better life of my time; I (hall rub the 
 dun: off my Greek and Latin books 
 when I return to Grandifon Hall. Yet 
 in fpite of their knowledge, they have 
 5 not 
 
LETTER XL 59 
 
 not neglecled accomplishments ; I affure 
 you, we had, yefterday evening, a very 
 good concert, in which they bore a part 
 — -but I am interrupted. 
 
 I have been very much mocked — a 
 meffenger brought me a letter from my 
 poor coufin Edward, fcarcely legible, 
 for it muft have been written by a 
 trembling hand — in fhort, William, he 
 has been wounded in a duel, and intreats 
 me to come him. Heaven know T s what 
 danger he may be in ; and as to his an- 
 tagonift, the letter is quite filent in this 
 refpect ; I fear, left he fliould have the 
 blood of a fellow-creature on his head, 
 What can I do, his letter is very pref- 
 fing, and the danger immediate and 
 great ; I do not like to go without con- 
 futing my tutor; and yet, if I wait for 
 it, Edward may expire before I fee 
 him; befides, I do not wifh to interrupt 
 the pleafure he has promifed himfelf in 
 the fociety of an old college friend, 
 D 6 whom 
 
60 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 whom he has not feen thefe ten years : 
 Harry, too, is gone with him. — I muft 
 confider a moment — Well, my friend, 
 I am going; they are now faddling my 
 horfe, and the kind miftrefs of the 
 houfe has recommended an honeft young 
 man, who is acquainted with the road, 
 to accompany me. As the Dodtor is 
 not expecled home thefe two or three 
 days, I hope, before his return, to fend 
 him a more fatisfaftory account of an 
 affair, which I know will make him very 
 uneafy, for he has always confidered 
 his pupils in the light of children. 
 Should he return before my letter can 
 reach this houfe, his fifler will account 
 for my conducl, which meets with her 
 approbation. Farewell, I have at leafl 
 forty miles to ride before night. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER XII. ti 
 
 LETTER XIL 
 
 Charles u William. 
 
 I am writing now by Edward's bed- 
 fide ; he has received a very dangerous, 
 but I hope not a mortal wound, though 
 his fever is very high. Young Atkins, 
 who was his antagonift, fet off for 
 France an hour after the duel. From 
 every account I can gather, he was the ag- 
 greffor ; a trifling joke at the mefs, after 
 dinner, fo exafperated this furious man, 
 that he loaded Edward with the mod op- 
 probrious epithets. Edward was obliged 
 to take notice of them, or quit the 
 army with dishonour. Such are the falfe 
 notions that prevail, that a man of real 
 courage mufc rifk his life when a drunk- 
 ard or a foci infults him j that life 
 which is only due to his country, is 
 
 (ported 
 
62 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 fported away in confequence of a 
 drunken frolic. I am glad, my friend, 
 I am not in the army, I mould not like 
 to appear a coward, or enter into a broil 
 to obtain the name that every boafter, 
 who neither fears God, nor loves his 
 friends, purchafes with the blood of a 
 fellow-creature* I hope, however, I 
 {hall never be in fuch a fituation. 
 
 Edward is now afleep - y it would be 
 cruel to remind him that he was ever 
 too fond of a jeft ; how often have I 
 feen him give extreme pain by laughing 
 at fome peculiarity, or catching up fome 
 ftrange expreffion to play on, and hurt 
 the feelings of the perfon who uttered 
 it, whofe vifible aiftrefs never filenced 
 his laugh. 
 
 I will give you fome account of my 
 journey, when he is again" difpofed to 
 fleep ; now I muft go and Sake fome re- 
 frefhment, as I feel myfelf very much 
 exhaufled. 
 
 I will 
 
LETTER XII. 63 
 
 I will now give you the promifed ac- 
 count. I fat off the moment after I 
 had fin iflied my letter; the day was un- 
 commonly hot, and the heavy fandy 
 road very unpleafant, as we could not 
 ride fo quick as we widied to do, My 
 heart, which feemed ready to fly to 
 Edward, was very anxious and impa- 
 tient; but what could impatience avail, 
 it only ferved to make the time appear 
 longer. This anxiety, and the hot beams 
 of the fun, gave me a fevere head-ach^ 
 and I was glad, after riding three or 
 four hours, to meet with a comfortable 
 inn. I was obliged to red: a diort time 
 my head was fo very bad, but my earned: 
 deiire to go forward foon roufed me, and 
 prevented me thinking of being over- 
 taken by the night, for the fun was fet- 
 ting apace. We were affured the roads 
 were very fafe, and a genteel looking 
 man informed me, that he had fre- 
 quently travelled the fame way himfelf 
 
 when 
 
64 YOUNG GRANDISOIsT. 
 
 when there was no moon, without any 
 apprehenfion of danger; he then added, 
 that as we feemed to be in a hurry, 
 he would advife us to take a fhort cut 
 through a wood, by which means we 
 mould gain two miles* 
 
 We followed the advice of the ftran- 
 ger, but when we were in the by-road,. 
 it appeared fo gloomy, that I was forry 
 we entered it; not a fingle man did we 
 meet during the fpace of half an hour; 
 at la ft we heard, at a diftance behind us,, 
 fome perfons on horfeback in a full gal-- 
 lop. I flopped, not thinking of any 
 danger ; on the contrary, having been 
 a little afraid of the dreary iolitude 
 which then furrounded us, I was glad 
 to hear human voices y it was to me,, 
 at that moment, almoft as if I had fcca. 
 a friend; but how egregioufly was I. 
 deceived. We were quickly overtaken, 
 by tour ftout men, who fiercely de- 
 manded my money. It was to no pur- 
 
 pofe. 
 
LETTER XII. 65 
 
 pofe to parley with them, and I was 
 obliged to give up my watch, purfe, 
 and even my great coat. Happy may I 
 think myfelf that I efcaped with my 
 life, for I was fo imprudent as to fpeak 
 to one of them, whom, to my great 
 aftoniihment, I difcovered to be the 
 very well-dreiled man who directed 
 us to take this road; I did feel very 
 angry, and would have given the world 
 to have punifhed him for his perfidy. 
 
 Behold me, then, without a coat; my 
 honeft fellow-traveller offered to lend 
 me his, which tbey did not think worth 
 taking from him, but he feemed lefs 
 able to bear the cold of the night than 
 myfelf, fo I would not accept of his 
 offer. We then fpurred our horfes and 
 rode on, and tried to laugh at our ad- 
 venture, in which, indeed, we did not 
 make a very noble figure; though it 
 would have been fool hardy to have at- 
 tempted to refift four ftrong men, fome- 
 
 thing 
 
66 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 thing like fighting a windmill, or florm- 
 ing the moon. Why then do I feel a 
 little hurt at having been robbed? To 
 the truth, that fellow's treachery 
 vexed me more than the lofs of my 
 money : but I have gained fomething by 
 my experience; I will never talk of 
 my own affairs when I am travelling, cr 
 too foon make an acquaintance on the 
 road. Farewell. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 LET. 
 
LETTER XIIL 67 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Charles to Willtam, 
 
 Edward is much better, which 
 gives me great pleafure on every ac- 
 count;' his hot-headed antagonift may 
 now fafely return to his regiment. Ed- 
 ward was very anxious about him : if I 
 fhould ; die, faid he, when the furgeon 
 thought him in danger, pray intreat Sir 
 Charles to endeavour to obtain a pardon 
 for young Atkins, who has only his 
 commiffion to depend on ; he is paf- 
 fionate, I knew it, and yet provoked 
 him by my unfeeling jeft 3 if I recover, 
 I will be more prudent for the future. It 
 gave me great pleafure to hear him talk 
 fo ; and I hope this illnefs will make a 
 good impreffion on his mind. 
 
 Three oV lock in the afternoon. — What 
 an agreeable furprife— my father isjuft 
 
 arrived; 
 
63 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 arrived, and does not difkpprove of my 
 conduct ! He turned pale when he heard 
 of the robbery, and thanked heaven that 
 had preferved him a fon, whole lofs he 
 fhould have deplored with his lateft 
 breath. I tell you this in the pride of 
 my heart; how fweet is the praife of a 
 parent ! Edward was glad to fee him, 
 and acknowledged his fault. I mud not 
 be long abfent from this dear parent* 
 Adieu. 
 
 C H A K I. E $-» 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER XIV. 69 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 Charles ts William. 
 
 Edward is fo far recovered as to be 
 able to travel ; he is to fet off to-mor- 
 row for Grandifon Hall, and I am to 
 return to my tutor. When I reach 
 home I will finifh this letter. 
 
 Well, here I am once more with my 
 good friends. I reached home without 
 meeting with any difagreeable occur- 
 rence, and my tutor received me with 
 his ufual kindnefs, but I obferved a 
 gloom on his countenance which made 
 me very uneafy. Before he went to 
 bed, he began to write a letter, and was 
 vifibly agitated while he was writing. 
 As I know the Doctor has fuch firmnefs 
 of mind that a trifle would not affect 
 him, I was very defirous to kno"- r what 
 was the matter, and I think my cu- 
 
 rioiity 
 
7 o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 riofity arofe from affection, yet I 
 am afraid it has led me to acT: wrong, 
 for when he left the room for a mo- 
 ment, I crept foftly to his writing table 
 to read the unfinished letter. It was to 
 a brother who had fuftained fome heavy 
 lofs in trade, which involved him and a 
 large family in the greateft diftrefs. I 
 fuddenly threw down the letter, before 
 I had read half of it, as if I had been 
 committing a robbery, and feverely re- 
 proached myfelf for having pryed into 
 his fecret, though I think I was led to 
 it by the reftlefs anxiety I felt when I 
 faw him unhappy; but this does not 
 excufe me — I have been very much to 
 blame— I blufli for fhame — I have in- 
 jured my friend, and I have injured my- 
 felf; I (hall be afraid to look him in the 
 face ; what a coward does guilt make us ! 
 I can write no more, I am out of hu- 
 mour with myfelf, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 LET. 
 
LETTER XV. 71 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 Charles to William. 
 
 Pity me, my friend; Dr. Bartlett 
 "has juit received a letter from Grandifoa 
 Hall ; he inftantly informed me, with 
 feeming emotion, that there was not 
 the lead danger, but that my mother 
 was ill, and that if I pleafed, we would 
 fet oft in the morning. Do you fay, 
 my dear Sir, if I pleafe ; my heart is 
 there already ; my mother in danger, 
 and her fon fo far off! I never was fo 
 low fpirited in my life; I am fure the 
 Doftor foftens the matter to me. I re- 
 ceived a few lines from Emilia, de- 
 livered privately to me by the fervant, 
 which made me very uneafy ; I will 
 tranfcribe part of it. 
 
 Dear, 
 
72 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ** Dear, dear Charles, 
 €t What a misfortune happened yefter- 
 day ! our dear mother fuddenly faint- 
 ed, and I was afraid me was dead; 
 I was alone with her, fitting at 
 my work, and did not perceive her 
 change countenance, fo that fhe was on 
 the ground before I could afford her any 
 affiftance. My loud cries brought the 
 fervants, but not before I had got my 
 arm under her head : I kifled her fore- 
 head, and called upon her a hundred 
 times, as if I could recall her to life. 
 The furgeon foon arrived, and bled her, 
 and in about half an hour fhe came to 
 herfelf again. But what did I fuffer 
 during that dreadful interval ! I wifhed 
 a thoufand times that you were here. 
 Do not delay a moment, dear brother, 
 if you love me ; I fhall be much 
 eafier, I know, when you are with me. 
 We mail affift each other in nurfing 
 her, for I will never leave her a moment 
 
 t© 
 
L E T T E R XV. 73 
 
 care of ft rangers ; I remember how (lie 
 fat up with us when we had the fmall- 
 pox and meafles, and if fhe was out of 
 danger, I fhould feel a pleafure in con- 
 vincing her, that I love her as dearly as 
 (lie loves me/ 
 
 This is a fhort tranfeript, William, 
 of my dear girl's letter; for with a full 
 heart fhe has written the fame thing over 
 and over again. We (hall leave this the 
 firft peep of day, and you may expect the 
 earlieft account of my mother's ftate of 
 iiealth. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 vol. 11. £ LE T- 
 
74 YOUNG GRANDISON, 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Charles to William. 
 
 My mother is out of danger; my 
 fitter's letter made me very apprehenfive; 
 the tendernefs of her nature makes her 
 tremble at the leaft indifpofition that 
 attacks her parents, and me exaggerates 
 the danger, till me is unable to fee 
 things as they really are. But why do 
 I blame her ? What have I not fuffered 
 myfelf through anxiety, in my way 
 hither ? I fometimes feared my mother 
 was already dead, and we appeared to 
 ride too fail: forward : I was afraid to ap- 
 proach the hall one minute, and the next 
 was in a violent perfpiration through my 
 eagernefs to reach it. In fhort, William, 
 I had a continual palpitation at my 
 heart, and now find myfelf by no means 
 
 well. 
 
LETTER XVI. 7 - 
 
 well. But I mall not complain; in the 
 morning probably I mall be better. 
 
 The time draws near, the time I fo 
 eagerly look for, when I was to have 
 vifited Holland: all my hopes feem like 
 a dream, and it appears to me wrong 
 even to think of it. I will go and take 
 a little walk in the garden, it may, per- 
 haps, refrefh me. 
 
 I do not feem much the better for 
 my walk, but I am glad I went, and I 
 will tell you why. As I was going 
 down the lane by the fide of the garden, 
 which you know leads to the high road, 
 fuch a wearinefs came over me I was 
 obliged to fit down. After refiing fome 
 moments I rofe up, and without con- 
 fidering where I was going, turned down 
 the public road. May we not fuppofe, 
 William, that heaven directs ou/fteps. 
 to be ferviceable to our fellow-creatures ? 
 for I faw, as I advanced, not far from 
 me, a little child about three years old -, it 
 E 2 feemed 
 
7 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 feemed tired, and ffood (till when it 
 perceived me. At firft I fuppofed fome 
 perfon was near; but not feeing any one, 
 I began to be uneafy, and when it 
 turned from me offered it fome flowers 
 which I had gathered in my way; this I 
 did with-a fmiling afpect, and enquired 
 what was its name, and where it lived ? 
 It could only lifp out a few words, fuch 
 as that its name was Jemmy, and that 
 it lived yonder, pointing with its hand, 
 I could 'not tell where, for you know 
 there is no houfe near; I could only 
 make out that it had been a long time 
 feeking its mammy. 
 
 The evening was growing dufky, and 
 ftill no perfon appeared ; I quickly 
 imagined the poor mother's feelings when 
 flic miffed her child, and would have 
 given any thing to have been able to 
 hw reftored him to her; but as that 
 was impoffible, I was determined to 
 take him with me, and leave him at cur 
 
 gardener's 
 
LETTER XVI. 77 
 
 gardener's houfe, till he fhould find out 
 to whom he belonged. I was obliged 
 to carry him, for he began to cry, when 
 he faw we turned out of the high road, 
 and I found it rather troublefome on 
 account of my weaknefs, but my refo- 
 lution gave me ilrength, and I gave it in 
 charge to the gardener's wife, who pro- 
 mifed to take care of it. In the morn- 
 ing a fervant is to go to the neighbour- 
 ing villages to enquire about the mother* 
 Farewell/ 
 
 CHARLES 
 
 Ej LET- 
 
?S YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 Emilia to Charlotte. 
 
 My mother is now out of danger, my 
 dear Charlotte, but Charles went to 
 bed laft night very ill, and is it to be 
 wondered at, after the perturbation of 
 mind he has lately gone through ? Hea- 
 ven preferve me fuch a brother ! The 
 time feemed fo long while he was away, 
 that I do not know how I fliould live 
 without him. 
 
 He found a loft child laft night, and 
 brought it in his arms to our gardener, 
 and deiired him to take care of it until 
 we could find out the mother. She came 
 this morning, and informed us, that 
 /he had been all the night wandering 
 about in fearch of it. I was very much 
 affected by the poor woman's gratitude; 
 but would you believe it, a certain young 
 gentleman prefumed to fay to Edward, 
 
 this 
 
LETTER XVI. 79 
 
 this morning, that he thought Charles 
 had acted imprudently : what would 
 he have done, added he, if the child had 
 never been claimed ? Did you ever hear 
 fuch cold-hearted reafoning, Charlotte? 
 Who would have thought of fuch a 
 thing, when the poor child was in fuch 
 immediate diftrefs ; yet this fame pru- 
 dent gentleman took home, fome time 
 ago, only actuated by pity, a great dog 
 that ran after him. Edward told him 
 of this, and afked him how it was pof- 
 fible that any one who could have fo 
 much pity for an animal able to pre- 
 ferve itfelf from danger, and find fome- 
 thing to eat, mould have fo little com- 
 paffion for a helplefs child ? He was at a 
 lofs what to fay, and foon after took his 
 leave, as I muft do for the prefent. 
 
 EMILIA, 
 
 E 4 LET- 
 
Jo YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 Emilia to Charlotte. 
 
 You defire that I will fend you as 
 early an account as poflible of Charles's 
 health $ he is, I fear, very ill. In order 
 to conceal it from my mother, he tried 
 to employ himfelf, but in vain. I am 
 with him every moment I can leave my 
 mother 5 and this morning we had a 
 conversation, which I will relate. He 
 afked me to put by his drawings, and he 
 looked fo altered, that my eyes filled 
 with tears, and I turned my head from 
 him to conceal them ; but it did not 
 efcape his obfervation. He caught me 
 by the hand, and faid, Why, dear 
 Emilia, are you fo forrowful ? 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
LETTER' XVIII;- 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 It is nothing — I {hall be efkarful- 
 
 again prefently. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 But you are weeping, dear fitter I 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Well, I will dry my tears, and cry no 
 more, for I fee your tears begin to flart, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Do not on that account reftrain them,, 
 they will relieve you ; but tell me what- 
 makes you fo fad ?' 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Why, brother, are you not fick? 
 
 GHARLE S.- 
 
 This proof of your fifterly affe&iojv 
 raifes you in my efleem, but your tea- 
 dernefs ought not to blind your reafon %.. 
 I am not well, it is true, yet there is not 
 the teaft appearance of danger. 
 
 E 5 sMin a p 
 
$2 YOUNG GRAND1SON. 
 
 E M ILIA. 
 
 You are fo good, God muft certainly 
 love you j why then are you afflicted ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 My tutor has often told me it is no 
 fign that God does not love us, becaufc 
 we are in affliction. Sicknefs and for- 
 row are as neceffary for us in this world 
 as every other event; we are in the 
 hands of a tender father, who knoweth 
 our frame, and will not afflict: us more 
 than is neceffary for our good. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I hope God will forgive me, if I have 
 fpoken rafhly. May you quickly be re- 
 ftored, for the danger I fee you in is al- 
 moft too much for me. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You imagine, then, that I am in 
 greater danger now than when I am in 
 health. 
 
 nun a; 
 
LETTER XVIII. $3 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 And fo you are, I believe. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, my dear, we have no more rea- 
 ion to fear upon our fick bed, than 
 when we are in lively company, taking 
 a walk, or on the ftormy fea. We arc 
 always under the protection of our Cre- 
 ator; he can preferve us, or call us 
 hence whenever he thinks fit.. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 We appear, I think, nearer death 
 when we are fick than when we are in a^ 
 good flate of health 
 
 c H A r l e s. 
 
 We appear, you fay, but that appear- 
 ance deceives us, and we are led to 
 think fo becaufe God commonly calls 
 us out of the world by ficknefs ; this 
 feems the ufual way, and we fuppofs 
 that death is at a diflance when we are 
 E 6 irx 
 
H YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 in a confirmed ftate of health - y yet we 
 are, in the very midft of our pleafures, 
 near the grave. For inftance, when you 
 are finging, or dancing, a dreadful fire 
 may burfl out, and none may have 
 power to efcape - } nay, without fuch an 
 unforefeen accident, a fingle glafs of 
 cold water, after fuch an amufement, 
 has often occafioned death. Who would 
 then prefume to fay, that they have 
 many years of pleafure to come ? 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I believe you are right. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 How many people recover when they 
 have been given over by phyficians, 
 whilft thofe apparently in health die 
 
 fuddenly? 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 You comfort me, dear brother, you 
 fet my heart at reft \ and I hope you will 
 foon get the better of this complaint. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
LETTER XVIII. S$ 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I fliall be thankful to God, If he al- 
 lows me to remain fometime longer with* 
 my parents and friends. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 It feems you are not afraid of death, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I have already told you that I wiiTi 
 to live. Heaven grant me life, if I 
 always have the fame defire to do good ; 
 but may it be taken away from me 
 this inflant, if there is a poffibility that 
 I mould ever forget my duty. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 O let us talk no more of death, bro- 
 ther ! 
 
 Here I muft flop, my mother has 
 fent for me^ pray for my dear Charles., 
 and I fhall love you dill better. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 LET. 
 
£6 YOUNG GRANDISONr 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 Emilia to Charlotte.- 
 
 I have another proof to give you of 
 Charles's good difpofition, but firft let 
 me tell you he is much better. After 
 I had finilhed my letter to you yerlerday 
 evening, I went into Charles's room 
 again, and found him and Edward look- 
 ing over fome drawings ; amongft them, 
 was the mount of a fan, which Charles 
 had finifhed with more than ufual care,., 
 intending to furprife our dear parent 
 with it. Though he is very model! 
 when fpeaking of his own performances, 
 yet he fpoke of this with fome degree 
 of fat isf action, and mentioned the length 
 of time he had been about it. He de- 
 fired me to cover it with filver paper,, 
 adding, that he would rather lofe all the 
 reft of his drawings than this. 
 
 * We 
 
LETTER XIX. 3; 
 
 We were now called down to Tap- 
 per; about half an hour after we were 
 feated at table it began to rain very fail, 
 and Charles recollecting that he had left 
 one of the windows of his room open, 
 was going himfelf to fhut it, but my 
 mother called him back, not thinking 
 it fafe that he mould expofe himfelf to 
 the night air, and deiired one of the fe f ;- 
 vants to go. 
 
 Well, we went to bed at our ufual 
 hour, but I had fcarcely reached my 
 room before I heard Edward cry out, 
 What do I fee ! I ran to him, and judge 
 of my vexation, when I faw the fan 
 mount in his hand almoft entirely con- 
 fumed : Charles at that moment entered 
 the chamber ; he faid nothing, but 
 looked a little angry, fuppofing we had 
 played him a trick What think you, 
 faid Edward ? the carelefs boy that did 
 this deferves to be turned out of doors. 
 No, faid Charles, I was afraid you had 
 
 done 
 
88 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 done It to teaze me ; if it was only an 
 accident, though it is vexatious, I will 
 endeavour to remedy it by doing ano- 
 ther much better : however, let us en- 
 quire about it. They did lb, and the 
 fervant who h .d (hut the window, 
 o v\ ncd that he had put a candle on the 
 table which was ioofe in the focket,. 
 and that it fell out, and let fire to the 
 paper, and almoft burnt the whole 
 mount, before he could put it out.. 
 The boy feemed very forry, and begged 
 Charles not to tell his father, left he 
 fhould be turned away for his carelefT- 
 nefs, for he had often been defired never 
 to put a candle on a table covered with 
 papers. Edward would not Hften to 
 him, and faid it was all a lie;, but 
 Charles faid it was not impoflible, 
 and that he would not mention it to 
 his^ father or mother, as he fhould be 
 forry to have a fervant turned away who 
 appeared to be forry for what he had 
 
 done,. 
 
LETTER XIX. $9 
 
 done, only defired him never to touch 
 any papers again in his room. 
 
 EDWARD. 
 
 Weli, you are very good-natured, 
 Charles ; if this had happened to me, I 
 fhould never have forgiven him. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 That would not have reftored my 
 drawing. 
 
 EDWARD* 
 
 No, but the carelefs fellow would 
 have been punifhedj and that would have 
 been fome comfort : fuch a lofs would 
 vex my very heart. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 It is, indeed, very unfortunate. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, I do not call it a misfortune, 
 fitter, 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
$o YOUNG GRANDISOK. 
 E M I L I A. 
 
 How, do not you think that a mis- 
 fortune ? 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 You make me fmile — I (hall foon 
 forget my drawing, it was only a trial 
 of temper; my mother's ficknefs was a 
 misfortune, indeed, and the poor wo- 
 man who had loft her child had reafo.i 
 to weep ; but what admits of a remedy, 
 fhould not be called a misfortune, it is 
 only a momentary vexation. And after 
 s 11, I was the perfon to blame, it was I 
 who was carelefs ; if I had locked up 
 my drawing, or fhut the window my- 
 felf, this accident would not have hap- 
 pened, 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 But, Charles, will you begin another? 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
LETTER XIX. 91 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 Yes, certainly, and perhaps it may be 
 much better, for another defign has juft 
 entered my head. 
 
 He then wiftied me a good night, and 
 I mull: do the fame. 
 
 I am glad I did not entirely fill up my 
 paper, and yet I (hall not fay much, I 
 am fo dull. Edward has juft left us to 
 join his regiment. My tears fall while 
 I write. I do not like thefe repara- 
 tions ; I wifli thofe whom I love were 
 always to remain with me ! 
 
 Charles has juft mentioned to my 
 father, a circumftance that he appeared 
 to be much afhamed of, I have not 
 time to write the particulars; I can only 
 now tell you, that he read a part of one 
 of Dr. Bartlett's letters, without his 
 leave; he faw the Doctor in great dif- 
 trefs, and was fo anxious to know what 
 occafioned it, that he acted contrary to 
 
 his 
 
92 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 his own notions of honour. This letter 
 contained an account of fome misfor- 
 tunes that had befallen the Doctor's fa- 
 mily, which he, from a motive of deli- 
 cacy, concealed from my father, think- 
 ing he had already done too much for 
 them. 
 
 My father want inffantly to his friend, 
 with whom he had a long conversation, 
 and after he returned to his ftudy, he 
 fent for Charles, and mildly addreffed 
 him. 
 
 SIR CHARLES. 
 
 I have at laft prevailed on my friend 
 to ftate the whole affair to me, and it 
 will foon be fettled to his fatisfadlion. 
 And now let me caution you, my fon, 
 never to let even your affection induce you 
 to pry into the fecrets of others : a good 
 end does not juftify the improper means 
 employed to reach it. Honour is a fa- 
 cred thing, and no motive mould influ- 
 ence us to trifle with fixed principles — 
 
 our 
 
LETTER XIX. 93 
 
 cur views are bounded, and we ought 
 to adhere to ftrict rules, not knowing 
 how to modify them. Your youthful 
 warmth now pleads in your favour; I 
 am acquainted with the goodnefs of 
 your heart; but goodnefs fliould ever 
 be rellrained by duty, or it will not 
 uniformly actuate our conduct. 
 
 My father then fmiled on Charles, 
 adding, this is a caution, and not a re- 
 proof. 
 
 I have almoft written another letter. 
 Believe me ever yours. 
 
 EMILIA, 
 
 E T- 
 
94 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 « 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 William to Charles. 
 
 Dear Grandifon, 
 
 I have been very uneafy on your ac- 
 count, and need not tell you what a re- 
 lief it was to my heart to hear of your 
 recovery, I neglected my muficj all 
 my employments were a tafk to me, 
 whilft I imagined you were fick ; the 
 forrovv is now over, and I only dream of 
 feeing you ; furely it will not be long 
 firfr. 
 
 I will now relate a circumftance that 
 does not do me much honour; but it 
 will relieve me to confefs my fault. 
 
 A few weeks ago, when my mother 
 received her annuity, me made me a 
 prefent of twelve ducats, that I might 
 buy myfelf a new coat before you came; 
 but as the clothes I brought with me 
 
 from 
 
L E T T E R XX. 95 
 
 from England are yet very good, I de- 
 termined not to purchafe it till juft be- 
 fore I fet off for England, that I might 
 have fomething new to appear in before 
 Lady Grandifon and Emilia. Laft week, 
 however, when my mother and filter 
 were viliting a friend for a few days, a 
 young gentleman of my acquaintance 
 came to drink tea with me, and men- 
 tioned by chance that a bargain had 
 fallen in his way that very afternoon. 
 A handfome new coat, that had never 
 been worn, had been offered him very 
 cheap, by a perfon in diftrefs, and that 
 he mould certainly have bought it, had 
 it not been rather too little for him. 
 Being lefs than him I thought- that it 
 might fit me, and enquired, with fome 
 earneilnefs, if he would buy it for me. 
 Very readily, he replied - 9 I will get it 
 this evening; He aiked ten ducats for 
 it, but I dare fay you may have it for 
 fix. Accordingly he fent it me in the 
 
 evening ; 
 
96 YOUNG GRAND1SON. 
 
 evening; and I found it, as he faid, very 
 good. I muft confefs it pleafed me. 
 Ten ducats were demanded for it; I of- 
 fered eight, and at laft gave nine, con- 
 vinced that it was very cheap. 
 
 I then thought how agreeably I mould 
 furprife my mother. When (lie re- 
 turned home, I eagerly brought the coat, 
 and afl^ed her what fne thought of it, 
 and if it pleafed her? She replied, ex- 
 ceedingly, but this undoubtedly coft 
 you more than twelve ducats ? Much 
 Jefs, interrupted I $ I gave no more than 
 nine for it. I looked at her, expecting 
 to fee her fmile, but, to my great fur- 
 prife, faw her affume a very ferious 
 countenance, faying, that coat is worth 
 fourteen or fifteen ducats, and did 
 you buy it for nine ? I had a better 
 opinion of your principles: the perfon 
 who fold it was probably impelled by 
 poverty, and could you find in your 
 heart to give but half the value for it? — • 
 5 could 
 
LETTER XX. 97 
 
 could you defraud the poor ? Would 
 you not, every time you put it on, 
 think with concern of him whofe mis- 
 fortunes you took advantage of. Ah ! 
 my dear mother, I have done wrong : 
 you really think it worth fourteen du- 
 cats, I will inftantly go and feek for the 
 owner : my coulin made me a prefent 
 yefterday, to buy fomething new with 
 before I went to London ; let me do 
 j Lidice, and give my fix ducats to the 
 neceflitous owner of my coat whom I 
 inconliderately injured. Indeed I would 
 not add to the mifery of the unfortunate. 
 Go, William, replied ihe, and let it 
 make you more prudent for the future,- 
 a man of honour muft never buy any thing 
 for lefs than the value, becaufe it is al- 
 ways fold by a perfon in diftrefs, or by 
 fome one who has obtained it in a dif- 
 honeft manner, and with fuch, an honeft 
 man muft have no dealings. To over- 
 reach a perfon in any refpecl is worfe 
 Vol. II, F than 
 
98 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 than a robbery, becaufe here you do not 
 expofe yourfelf to any danger. A mean 
 action is generally done to fave money 
 for fome felfifli pleafure ; juftice is the 
 foundation of every virtue, and he who 
 does not refpeft himfelf, will never be a 
 virtuous character. 
 
 I was afhamed of my fault, as you 
 may fuppofe, and could not be eafy 
 until I went to pay the money, and 
 make an apology for my conduct. I 
 found that the coat was bought of a 
 young man whofe mother was in great 
 diftrefs - y my heart fmote me when I 
 heard of it. How glad I am my mo- 
 ther mowed me this action in its true 
 light; for having heard many people 
 fpeak with pleafure of a bargain, I 
 thought I had done fomething very 
 clever. 
 
 I have learned from this accident to 
 diftruft my own judgment, and mail 
 constantly apply to my mother for ad- 
 vice. 
 
LETTER XX. 99 
 
 vice, till I have more experience to 
 judge for myfelf. How painful it is not 
 to have the means of doing good, for I 
 now think I ought to have fent back 
 the coat, and to have made that dutiful 
 fon a prefent of the money ; bat then 
 my mother could not afford to buy me 
 another coat when I want it, and I muffc 
 fubmit to my circumftances. Farewell, 
 my dear Charles ; remember me to all my 
 kind friends at Grandifon Hall, not for- 
 getting Emilia. 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
 Fa LET- 
 
ioo YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXL 
 
 Emilia to Charlotte. 
 
 What a fright have I had, and what 
 anxiety and diftrefs have I gone through ! 
 I mull tell you all, and I know you will 
 pity me. We were allowed yefterday to 
 pay a vifit to a gentleman, whofe feat is 
 about two hours ride from our houfe. 
 Harry, our faithful Harry, (-who came 
 to live with us again after the death of 
 his mother) went with us % 
 
 We fpent a very pleafant day, and fet 
 out again for Grandifon Hall about half 
 pair, five o'clock. Harry feemed rather 
 to lag behind, and we every now and 
 then waited for him. We were con- 
 verfing fome time without thinking of 
 him, when Charles looked round, and 
 immediately perceived that Harry was 
 not with us. I was alarmed, and I favv 
 i that 
 
LETTER XXI. 101 
 
 that Charles was diftreffed. I think I ice 
 him yonder, laid he ; we will return, 
 perhaps there is fomething the matter 
 with his horfe. • We returned accor- 
 dingly, but Charles went a little before 
 me, becaufe he was afraid of difcovering 
 fomething dreadful. And fo indeed it 
 proved. Never {hall I forget the hor- 
 ror I felt when I faw Harry ftretehed 
 motionlefs on the ground, the horfe 
 (landing by as if he wiflied to take care 
 of his rider. I called out for help, not 
 recollecting there was nobody within 
 hearing ; Charles quickly difmounted, 
 and bid me make myfelf eafy : eafy, 
 cried I — alone in this folitary road in 
 the evening with a dying man. Charles 
 had advanced to Harry in the mean time, 
 and a flu red me he was not dead. I 
 would then have got off my horfe, but 
 my brother defired me to fit ftill ; not- 
 withstanding this, I jumped oft with- 
 out thinking, and immediately the horfe 
 F 3 ran 
 
102 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ran away. My brother had pulled off 
 his coat to lay under Harry's head. 
 Harry ftill remained inlenfible. Ima- 
 gine, Charlotte, my diftrefs ; I favv my 
 brother was very much perplexed -, but 
 I will give you our conversation. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 My dear Charles, what will you do, 
 it is dark already ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I hope fome traveller will foon go by 
 who may afford us affiftance. But where 
 
 is your horfe, my dear ? 
 
 E M ILIA. 
 
 My horfe 1 — it was here juft now. I 
 was fo anxious about Harrv, that I did 
 not perceive when he left me. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 He will find his way home; it can- 
 not now be helped ; but you mould 
 have fecured him, fifter, when you dis- 
 mounted. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
LETTER XXI. 103 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 It was very foolifh, but I was fo de- 
 firous to affift you I forgot every thing 
 elfe. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I know your good heart, Emilia. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Dear brother, I am very anxious, who 
 knows what may happen to us in this 
 lonely roadj we have nobody with us. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Do not let us be too folicitous about 
 our own fafety ; do you not fee a fel- 
 low-creature dying near you : and can 
 you think of the trifling inconveniences 
 we may be expofed to ? — God is with us. 
 
 He uttered this in a folemn tone of 
 voice, and then looking at me with ten- 
 der nefs-, entreated me to be calm. Pic- 
 ture to yourfelf now your friend Charles, 
 without his coat, upon one knee, hold- 
 F 4 ing 
 
io 4 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ing his right arm under Harry y s head,, 
 and with his left foftly rubbing his 
 temples : and every now and then he 
 turned his eyes to heaven, and I faw 
 the tears ftreaming down his cheeks. 
 
 E M ILIA. 
 
 .You figh and weep in fuch a manner, 
 Charles — is Harry dead ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, Emilia, he is yet living — per- 
 haps he might yet be reftored, could I 
 obtain any help. God be merciful, faid 
 he, I cannot afford him any affiftance— 
 what (hall I do ? 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Since you are not able to afford him 
 any aililtance, had we not better 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, we mud not go and leave a man 
 lo his fate who is infenfible : he would 
 not have ferved us fo : misfortunes level 
 
 all 
 
LETTER XXI. 105 
 
 all imaginary diftin&ions in life : he 
 would have ventured his life for us ; 
 we muft do as we would be done by. 
 How attentive was he to me in my lad 
 illnefs ! 
 
 Here the tears came again into his 
 eyes. 
 
 E m 1 l 1 A. 
 
 And muft we remain here all night ? 
 
 charles; 
 
 It may not be neceffary; we muft firft 
 think of doing right, and then leave the 
 iffue to God. Can we expect that lie 
 will have companion on us if we fhow 
 none r I mould never be happy if I left 
 this dying man. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 And fo you forget what our father 
 and mother are fufFering at this inftant, 
 on account of our flaying out fo late. 
 
 F 5 CHARLES. 
 
106 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Can you fuppofe fo, Emilia ? — Oh, 
 that fomebody would come to our af- 
 fiftance ! Try to calm your mind, my 
 dear lifter, I befeech you. I wifh I 
 had happened to have been alone, I 
 mould then have waited patiently to fee 
 the will of heaven. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I am frightened — I heard fomething. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You heard nothing but the falling of 
 the leaves : come fit down here, Emilia* 
 by me on thegrafs. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 We are very unfortunate ! 
 
 C H A R L E S. 
 
 No, fay not fo; let us mow that we 
 are not inhuman, by thinking more of 
 others than ourfelves, who are not in 
 any immediate danger, 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
LETTER XXI. 107 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I will now endeavour to be eafy ; but 
 I cannot help thinking of my father and 
 mother. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 They will think that Harry is with 
 us, and that we are very fafe. 
 ' Charles then fuddenly ftarted up, and 
 I faw Harry flruggle violently : — for 
 heaven's fake, Emilia, walk away a little, 
 faid he, Harry is in a fit. I did fo, for 
 I was terrified. I turned round a mo- 
 ment, after hearing Charles cry out, 
 Gracious God, Harry is dead, fifter. — 
 I was going to fpeak, but he begged 
 me to compofe myfelf ; anH then flood 
 filently five or fix minutes till he was 
 certain the poor man had breathed his 
 lad. Charles took his coat, which lay 
 under Harry's head, and fpread it over 
 the body. While he was doing it he 
 trembled very much, for I held his arm, 
 F 6 afraid 
 
108 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 afraid tc go from him, when I faw, for 
 the fir ft time, a corpfe. At laft a violent 
 flood cf tears relieved him, and he took 
 my hand, faying, now it is time togo — we 
 have nothing more to do, for he is indeed 
 dead. He made me get up behind him, 
 as I was afraid to leave him. Oh, Char- 
 lotte, it is a dreadful thing to fee a fel- 
 low-creature die ! I mall never forget 
 that evening. 
 
 We rode forward with great fpeed ; 
 and I could fcarcely believe that we had 
 left Harry behind, it all appeared like a 
 frightful dream. About two hundred 
 yards from the houfe, we heard two 
 horfes in a full gallop, coming towards 
 us. I trembled like a leaf, and dreaded 
 left fome new misfortune awaited us ; 
 but how great was my joy when I faw 
 my father himfelf with Robert. I 
 found they had all been in great con- 
 fuiion on account of the return of my 
 horfe, which one of the fervants faw 
 
 quietly 
 
LETTER XXI. ic$ 
 
 quietly feeding on the lawn. I cannot 
 defcribe to you, my dear, with what 
 fond affection I flew into the arms of 
 my tender mother, who had undergone {o 
 much uneafinefs on our account; I 
 fcarcely thought myfelf in fafety till 
 me preffed me to her heart — how glad I 
 was to fee all the people alive round 
 me. 
 
 While I related the event, Charles 
 fent a fervant to take care of the body. 
 My father faid it might have been bet- 
 ter had we returned immediately for af- 
 fiftance; yet he believed that he mould not 
 have left him in fuch a fituation had he 
 been there himfelf. I know you will 
 be glad to hear that we are not much 
 the worfe for our fright, and that I am 
 fincerely yours. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 P. S. Charles is to kt off for Hol- 
 land next Thurfday. He has promifed 
 
 to 
 
no YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 to write to me very often, to make the 
 time appear fhorter. I told you before, 
 that I hate thefe partings - y but he will 
 foon return, and bring our old friend 
 William with him, and his mother and 
 filler. Mean time I expeft to have your 
 company — do come, or I fhall-be quite 
 dull. 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER XXIL m 
 
 LETTER XXIL 
 
 Charles to Emilia, 
 
 Drive away your fears with refpedl to 
 a fea voyage, my dear fitter, for mine has 
 been a very fpeedy one, though we were 
 overtaken in our paffage by a dreadful 
 florin. You know on more I can talk 
 very philofophically of a ftorm as highly 
 neceiTary to purify the air; but on the 
 fea, where the view is almoft boundlefs, 
 and one feems particularly expofed to 
 its fury, I felt myfelf ftruck with a fo- 
 lemn kind of dread : it was as if the 
 clouds were pouring with accumu- 
 lated fury, from the four quarters of 
 the heavens, to burft over our heads. 
 Never did I obferve the lightning with 
 fo much attention as in that wide ex- 
 tenfive profped. It really was a fearful, 
 but at the fame time a beautiful fight ; 
 
 I trembled 
 
ii2 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 I trembled while I gazed, I do not pre- 
 tend to deny it; and the diftrefs of 
 fome of my fellow-travellers almoft in- 
 fected me with fears that my reafon 
 condemned, until I began to think it 
 was a kind of miftruft of the goodnefs 
 of heaven, which I had fo often ex- 
 perienced, when I gave myfelf up to 
 unreafonable fears. I foon, then, grew 
 more compofed, but I was moved with 
 indignation when I heard the foolifh 
 jefts of two gay young fellows after 
 the ftorm was over ; for it appeared to 
 me almoft impious to mock at fo awful 
 an appearance, in which God made his 
 almighty power very manifeft. 
 
 When the waves began to fubfide, I 
 viewed with reverence the wonders of 
 the deep ; and afked myfelf from whence 
 came this lightning and rattling thun- 
 der ? What caufes the clouds, which 
 confift of water, to produce fuch a tre- 
 mendous clatter ? You know that phi- 
 
 lofophers 
 
LETTER XXII. 1*3 
 
 Iofophers have difcovered that thunder 
 is only occafioned by the compreffion 
 of the clouds, and that the lightning 
 is the effecl: of this concuffion. But let 
 us change the fubjecl:.. 
 
 There were amongft the paffengers a 
 refpeclable looking old man. I could 
 not take my eyes off him. He had the 
 appearance of a gentleman, but his 
 clothes were thread-bare; and I found 
 by his converfation that he was a Dutch- 
 man. He had laid up for himfelf but 
 a {lender ftock of provifion : my heart 
 fuggefted that he muft have been unfor- 
 tunate; and I perceived him feveral 
 times loft in thought. I endeavoured, 
 without intruding on his forrows, to 
 engage him in converfation, as he fpoke 
 Englifh very well for a foreigner. What 
 he faid was fo fenfible and interefting, 
 that he prejudiced me in favour of the 
 people I was going to vifit; in fhort, 
 none of the paffengers pleafed me fo 
 
 well 
 
n-4 YOUNG GRAND1SON. 
 
 well as he did ; perhaps, becaufe I 
 thought him unhappy; I could think of 
 no one elfe. I at la ft drew him into 
 converfation : we talked together during 
 the ftorm; and I offered fome of my 
 proviiions to the other paffengers, that 
 I might, without feeming to have ob- 
 ferved his fcanty ftock, prefs him to 
 partake of mine. He then enquired if 
 my parents were living, and, wiping a 
 tear from his eye, he foftly faid* Happy 
 are they to have luch a fon ! I read the 
 thoughts of his heart, Emilia; I gueffed 
 the fource of his uneaiinefs. And you> 
 Sir, replied I, perhaps you have chil- 
 dren ? Alas ! anfwered he, yes, I have 
 children — I have a fon, but he has not 
 a heart like yours ; I left him in Lon- 
 don : heaven blefs him ! may he never 
 feel the pangs he has made me endure. 
 I wi filed to have fa id fome thing more, 
 but I was afraid he might think my 
 curiofity impertinent,, as I was £b 
 
 young ; 
 
LETTER XXII. 115 
 
 young; yet I fincerely felt for him. 
 This circumftance threw a damp over 
 my fpirits — I cannot bear the idea of 
 thole children who are ungrateful to 
 good parents, whom, next to God, they 
 ought to honour. I defired Robert to 
 enquire who he was, but the captain 
 knew nothing more, than that he was 
 an inhabitant of Amfterdam, and in 
 diftxefs, for he had not money fufficient 
 to pay his paffage, and offered to leave 
 his fmall bundle of linen on board, as a 
 fecurity for the payment, while he went 
 on more to borrow it. No, thought I, 
 that mufl not be; but how mall I 
 manage the matter ? I was in a dreadful 
 dilemma — it would have been almoft an 
 affront, if I had offered to make a per- 
 fon of his appearance a prefent. I went 
 down into the cabin without having 
 taken any refolution. At laft I de- 
 termined, and folded ten guineas in a 
 piece of paper, fealed it, and v/rote his 
 
 name 
 
n6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 name on it, which I had heard acci- 
 dentally. I then fpoke to the captain, 
 who appeared to be a humane man, and 
 requeued him to deliver that p:iper to 
 the gentleman after I had gone on more, 
 but not to fay who gave it to him. The 
 captain feemed pleafed, and added, that 
 he carried him over to England fome 
 time ago, w 7 hen he was in a better 
 plight, but that he feared his wild foil 
 had diftreffed him in more ways than 
 one. 
 
 Robert faw afterwards the captain- 
 give the gentleman the money, whilft I 
 haftened forward, left he mould fufpect 
 me. Do not mention this circum- 
 ftance to any one, my dear filler; -my 
 father, you know, gave me above fifty 
 guineas to fpend in this tour, and I 
 could well fpare this fum. 
 
 Sleep found, my dear fifter, and in 
 the morning I will return to my letter, 
 and give you fome account of my meet- 
 ing with my friend. 
 
 IN 
 
LETTER XXII. 117 
 
 IN CONTINUATION. 
 
 It was evening when we arrived at 
 my friend's native place ; they did not 
 expect us that day. The fervant who 
 opened the door, told me her young 
 mafter was at home alone; (he con- 
 ducted me into a ftnall apartment, and 
 was going to call him down. You 
 know, Emilia, that I love a trick in 
 which there is no mi (chief ; I then de- 
 fired (he would conduct me to the room 
 without telling him of my arrival. I 
 crept to his chamber door, which was 
 half open : he was playing on his violin 
 one of the lively fongs we had often 
 fung together when he was in England. 
 I immediately began to accompany him 
 with my voice: his violin was inftantly 
 filent, and he liftened a moment to my 
 prolonged note, then he darted out of 
 the room, and foon difcovered me be- 
 hind the door. After we had embraced 
 
 each 
 
u'S YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 each other, he overwhelmed me with 
 queflions, not forgetting how Emilia 
 looked, how fhe fung, &c &c. He 
 wimed me to have fome refreshment; 
 but you know I never eat any thing be- 
 tween meals. 
 
 We chatted delightfully together, ex- 
 pecting Mrs. D — home every moment; 
 mean while I caft my eyes round the 
 room : the walls were hung with his 
 own drawings ; neatnefs and order were 
 confpicuous in every thing. This little 
 folitary apartment, faid he, muil feem 
 to you very homely after Grandifon 
 Hall? It is juft that neat fimplicity 
 which fuits my tafte, anfwered I; it is 
 all adorned with your works ; you look 
 cheerful, and are fincere, what more is 
 wanted to give dignity to the place ? 
 How much more honour do thefe draw- 
 ings do you, which are a proof of your 
 diligence and fkill, than the moft ex- 
 cellent pictures, which are purchafed 
 
 for 
 
LETTER XXII. ng 
 
 for mow, by thofe who do not even 
 know their value. On his table (rood a 
 cabinet which looked fo beautiful that I 
 was curious to examine it, but how fur- 
 prized was I, when he told me it was 
 
 J. ' 
 
 only pafteboard, which he had made 
 himfelf, and ornamented with land- 
 scapes and wreaths of flowers. He told 
 me he intended it for a young lady 
 whom he highly efteemed. Will you 
 liften, Emilia, while I whifper in your 
 ear who I think that lady is — your 
 noble felf. Tbefe, faid William, are 
 my employments. I draw, read, and 
 play on my violin ; then I have my 
 mathematical inftruments and my box 
 of tools 3 I declare the day is not long 
 enough for all I have to do. And it is 
 very happy for me that I can amufe 
 myfelf, as my mother's c ire um fiances 
 are fo confined, I could not keep com- 
 pany with my father's relations and 
 friends, without leading her into ex- 
 pen fes 
 
120 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 penfes that fhe could not well bear. 
 And believe me, Charles, added he, I 
 never will condefcend to be intimate 
 in a family where I am confidered in 
 the light of an inferior : of courfe I will 
 never receive any favours in the ftyle of 
 an humble companion. What noble 
 principles, Emilia! how glad I am to 
 have fuch a friend i 
 
 Mrs. D — returned foon after with 
 her daughter Annette. My friend in- 
 troduced me to his mother, faying, be- 
 hold the friend whom I love next to 
 yourfelf. William had reafon to praife 
 his mother, for there is a fvveetnefs in 
 her manners that charmed me more than 
 I can defcribe, and a look of forrow that 
 makes her very interesting. Annette is 
 a pretty lively girl, but her gaiety does 
 not render her remifs in her duty, for 
 Hie watches her mother's looks, anxious 
 to anticipate her wifhes. She immedi- 
 ately 
 
LETTER XXII. i 2I 
 
 ately enquired about you, and expreffed' 
 agreatdefire to be acquainted with you. 
 We are going to take a walk with 
 Mrs. D — , fo I mufi finifh my long let- 
 ter : I have written by the fame poft 
 to both my father, mother, and Dr, 
 Bartlett. Acrofs the dreadful ocean, 
 which you fear fo much ; I fend you 
 my good wiihes. God blefs you ! 
 
 CHARLES* 
 
 vol. ii. G L E T- 
 
122 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 Charles to Emilia. 
 
 The order and regularity which reigns 
 in this family would furpriie you, con- 
 fidering they have but one ierv nt. Mrs. 
 D — fees but little company — a few par- 
 ticular friends, and the fociety of her 
 children, is all (lie wifhes for. She is 
 always employed ; and Wilfiam reads to 
 her, in the evening, hiftory and books 
 of rational amufement, which fhe com- 
 ments on, and frequently repeats his 
 father's fentiments of the various au- 
 thors they read, which William trea- 
 fures up, and often tranferibes in a little 
 book, which he has made for that pur- 
 pofe. 
 
 He keeps the accounts of the family ; 
 and, under the direction of his mother, 
 
 manages 
 
LETTER XXIII. X23 
 
 manages her little property. In the 
 evening, juft before bed time, ibmething 
 ferious is read, and Mrs. D — , repeating 
 a fliort but fervent prayer, recommends 
 us to the protection of the Almighty. 
 We rife early, and William and I 
 go on with our former ftudies till we 
 meet the ladies at breakfaft. 
 
 Annette has no mailer but William: 
 he teaches her reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic; drawing (he begs as a fa- 
 vour ; and we ail inftrucl: her in the 
 French and Englith languages; and you 
 can hardly imagine what a progrefs (he 
 has made. 
 
 William's cheerful diligence excited 
 my admiration ; and I could not help 
 mentioning it to him yefterday in terms 
 of praife. Flow, my friend, faid he, is 
 it not my duty to communicate to her 
 the knowledge that my mother has 
 procured for me at a great expence ? I 
 am happy that I can by my zeal in this 
 O 2 refpecT:, 
 
W4 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 refpedl, prove that I am grateful for her 
 conftant kindnefs; befides, is not the 
 dear girl my fitter, and is not her wel- 
 fare and happinefs of the greatett con- 
 fequence to mine ? I find myfelf richly 
 rewarded for my trouble, when I fee 
 her gradually improve; and I think all 
 elder brothers and fitters ought to do 
 the fame when their parents are not in 
 affluence. 
 
 What do you think I have done, 
 fitter ? I have given up my regular cor- 
 refpondence with you to William, not 
 that I (hall forget to write fometimes, 
 but as I have many letters to write, 
 which I rauft not negleft, and wifli to 
 finifli fome drawings I have fketched of 
 this place, i cannot write to you in 
 fuch a circumftantial manner as I wifli 
 to do, without depriving myfelf of the 
 company of my friends. William, you 
 know, has the knack of writing par*. 
 
 I ticulars, 
 
LETTER XXIir. 
 
 125 
 
 ticulars, and he can write to you while 
 I write to my father, Dr. Bartlett, &c. 
 You muft anfwer his letters, and not 
 refufe to write to my bed: friend, if you 
 love me, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 G 3 
 
 LET- 
 
126 YOUNG GRAND I SON. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 William to Emilia. 
 
 May I. pre fume to write to you, dear 
 Mifs Emilia; your brother defires me 
 not to fear your difpleafure. I have not 
 been much acctifiorned to write to 
 young ladies ; you mud not, then, 
 jh at my blunders, and I am fure my 
 fubjecT: will intereft you, for I fhall 
 tell you what your brother does and 
 fays, as I ufed to tell my mother. 
 
 The appearance of our country pleafes 
 him, and I endeavour to let him fee as 
 much of it as I can. Yefterday we 
 went to Leyden, one of the moft beau- 
 tiful cities in Holland. We vifited the 
 univerlity, and faw whatever elfe was 
 worthy of obfervation. It would cer- 
 tainly be a matter of regret to my friend 
 
 to 
 
LETTER XXIV. 127 
 
 to leave Holland without feeing the 
 public buildings and other curiofities. 
 We had very fine weather : Robert ac- 
 companied us. Your brother chofe to 
 go in one of the Trekfchuits rather 
 than in a carriage. I cannot refrain 
 from relating to you the following ad- 
 venture, which does your brother fo 
 much honour. 
 
 Coming a little too early, as we were 
 walking backwards and forwards, we 
 faw two young gentleman, genteely 
 dreffed, who came from Leyden, and 
 were waiting as well as ourfelves, for 
 the fchuit. They appeared like per- 
 fons of rank not well educated, with 
 that miftaken pride which leads a per- 
 fon to look down with difdain on thofe 
 whom they imagine to be their inferiors. 
 It was particularly confpicuous in one, 
 whom we heard the other addrefs by 
 the title of baron. What a contrail 
 there was between his and your bro- 
 G 4 ther's 
 
128 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ther's manners ! Soon after came a poor 
 Jew boy, he looked fick, and had a 
 baiket on his arm with fmall wares in 
 it, which he offered to us for fale. The 
 two young gentleman Toon call; their 
 eyes on him, and began to laugh, hand- 
 ing his baiket backwards and forwards, 
 pretending to look at what it contained. 
 Great people fometimes think they may 
 do any thing becaufe they are rich, The 
 jokes feemed to difpleafe your brother 
 not a little, and he turned away feveral 
 times to avoid hearing them. But the 
 thoughtlefs young men were not fatis- 
 fkd with a trifling joke, they pretended 
 to buy the whole baiket, and promifed 
 to pay him his full demand, which was 
 five guilders, provided he would bring it 
 to Ley den to the houie of a Mr. Van- 
 derk. The young Jew was exceedingly 
 glad, and danced for joy, as perhaps he 
 might not have fold as much in two 
 months. 
 
 The 
 
LETTER XXIV. 129 
 
 The (kipper, and a man I knew, 
 was prelent at this traniaction. Your 
 brother quickly obferved, that there 
 was fome cheat intended in this pur- 
 chafe,- and, after the gentLmen had 
 ftepped into the fchuit, queftioned the 
 boy, who informed him that his mother 
 was fick, and on her account he rejoiced 
 that he had fold the whole together : he 
 added, that he mould immediately fet 
 off for Leyden, and return in the even- 
 ing with the money to his mother, who 
 Was in want of it. Charles then de- 
 fired the (kipper to take the boy in the 
 fchuit, and paid the fare, faying, you 
 heard thofe gentlemen buy the boy's 
 bdket of wares ? Yes, anfwered the 
 (kipper, and I too, faid another man, 
 but it is oriy a trick, for there is no 
 fuch gentleman as. Mr. Vanderk in the 
 whole city of I eyden : they only mean 
 to let him have his walk for his pains, 
 and will laugh all the evening at the 
 fine trick they have played a Jew. 
 
 G 5 The 
 
130 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 The poor Jew was happy to find he 
 was to go in the fchuit, for he was 
 fcarcely able to walk on account of an 
 ague. We then went on board, and 
 while we were (landing at a di fiance 
 from the reft, we had the following 
 converfation. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 I perceive, Grandifon, what your ge- 
 nerous heart meditates ; you intend to 
 give the poor boy the five guilders, 
 which they promiied him for his wares. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, this trick, or rather vile deceit, 
 raife's my indignation ; I think that they 
 deierve to be punifhed, to teach them 
 more thought and humanity in future. 
 The haughty baron fhall pay the five 
 guilders himlelf, or I am mucbmiftaken. 
 You may recolk£l that I afked the fkipper 
 if he had not heard them bargain for the 
 bafket, and an honeft man, you know, alfo 
 
 offered 
 
LETTER XXIV. 131 
 
 offered to bear witnefs : if I was to pay the 
 money, it would be a kind of encourage- 
 ment of the cheat, and perhaps heighten 
 the jeft. It is our duty, as much as we 
 can, to a (lift our fellow-creatures, and 
 to hinder one man from injuring ano- 
 ther. - 
 
 W 1 L L I A M. 
 
 You excite my wonder ; I had not 
 extended my thoughts fo far. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Ic is not the lofsof the five guilders that 
 will affect the baron ; a perfon fo rich, as 
 the /kipper informs us he is, cannot think 
 much oi fuch a fmall ium ; but he will, 
 at lead if he has any virtue, be amamed of 
 his foclifh conduct : it mall be made 
 public j his own companions will blufh 
 for him, and the joke will be turned 
 againft himfelf. 
 
 G 6 WILLIAM, 
 
132 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 I did not think you had been fo fe- 
 vere, Grandifon. Your humane heart 
 has often 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You are miftaken, William; indiffe- 
 rence in this cafe would prove rather 
 that I had a weak than a good heart, 
 I may forgive a cheat pra&ifed on my- 
 felf, and I would do it as far as was 
 confident with my honour, but I mud, 
 when I fee a fellow-creature deceived, 
 exert myfelf to maintain his right. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Many who are called Chriftians think 
 there is no harm in cheating a Jew, 
 but my mother has given me a very 
 different definition of humanity. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 A Jew is a man as well as we are, 
 and we ought no more to cheat a Jew 
 
 or 
 
LETTER XXIV. 133 
 
 or a Turk, than we would a Chriftian : 
 we muft not defpife, much lefs hate, 
 thofe who profefs a different religion : 
 created by the fame God, we are all 
 brethren. 
 
 WILLIAM*. 
 
 But how will you contrive to get the 
 five guilders from the baron ? 
 
 The approach of the gentlemen in- 
 terrupted us, and your brother flood 
 mufing a fhort time. 
 
 We were now to change fchuit, and 
 went into a public houie, where we 
 were to flay half an hour to get a little 
 refrefhment. Your brother called me 
 aiide, fent for Robert, and ordered him 
 to pay the Jew five guilders- How, 
 laid I, you have changed your mind ! 
 No, faid he, it fhali be repaid out of 
 the baron's purfe, if my plan fucceeds 
 according to my wifli. When you, 
 continued he to Robert, have paid the 
 
 money^ 
 
134 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 money, bring the bey into the houfe, 
 the reft will follow of courfe. 
 
 We then went into the coffee-room, 
 where the two giddy young men were 
 drinking and teazing a great dog. Ro- 
 bert quickly followed, with the Jew 
 boy and his bafket, for as they were in 
 a different part of the fchuit, they fup- 
 pofed he was gone on foot to Leyden. 
 But I mud give you, verbatim, the con- 
 verfation that pafled between them and 
 Charles on that occafion. 
 
 BARON, 
 
 How came this boy in the fchuit-? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Sir, your generofky in purchasing all 
 this poor little merchant's ware, by the 
 fale of which, he affifts to maintain a lick 
 mother, had fuch an effect on me, that I 
 determined to pay his fare, becaufe I 
 perceived that he h d an ague on him, 
 which has weakened him in fuch a 
 3 manner 
 
LETTER XXIV. 135 
 
 manner that he would fcarcely have been 
 able to walk to Ley den, much lefs to have 
 returned back to night. But my fer- 
 vant, who jufl now came in with him, 
 felt fo much compafiion for him when 
 he law him fo lick in the beat, that he 
 has done a great deal more, he has 
 given him the five guilders, and taken 
 charge of the purchafe, that the boy 
 may return without any delay, and he 
 will himfelf deliver it at the houfe of 
 Mr. Vanderk. 
 
 The baron and his friend foon per- 
 ceived your brother's defign, and looked 
 very foolifh, and the eyes of rdl the 
 people in the room were fixed on them. 
 They ftammered, and knew not at fir ft 
 what to anfwer. Your brother, with 
 his ufual prefence of mind, called the 
 fkipper, and faid, you undoubtedly 
 know Mr. Vanderk, of Leyden, to 
 -whofe houfe thofe gentlemen have di- 
 rected the young Jew 5 if you will go 
 
 with 
 
i 3 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 with my fervant, when we arrive there, 
 I will give you fomtthing to drink. 
 The word of all is, faid the fkipper, 
 that in all Leyden I do not know where 
 to find a gentleman of the name of Van- 
 derk. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That gentleman, pointing to the ba- 
 ron, will have the goodnefs to in r 
 you. 
 
 BARON. 
 
 I do not know any gentleman of t t 
 name at Leyden : we only meant to 
 amufe ourfelves a little with the young 
 rogue. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That amufement is well worth five 
 guilders : it is to you gentlemen the 
 wares muft be brought, and that hfjuft 
 the lame -, my fervant is not afraid of the 
 payment. 
 
 Every 
 
LETTER XXIV. 137 
 
 Every one now began to laugh, and 
 the baron and his friend feemed afhamed 
 of themfelves. An honeft burgher, 
 who was in the room, cried out, with a 
 look of • contempt, the prank is really 
 well recompenfed. Another pitied the 
 poor Jew, and thought it very inhuman 
 to have fent a child, lhaking with an 
 ague, fo many miles to no purpofe; for 
 every one perceived that the poor boy 
 would have got nothing, and after hav- 
 ing long fought for Mr. Vanderk, he 
 mud have returned back with his wares. 
 At laft the jokers, with very ferious 
 faces, paid Robert the five guilders, and 
 to take off part of the odium from ihem- 
 felves, they defired the boy to keep his 
 baiket and wares, which they could 
 make no ufe of. Your brother ordered 
 the boy a warm break fafi, and paid his 
 fare back to the Hague. 
 
 We were then called to go on board 
 again, and the baron and his friend were 
 
 cured 
 
i 3 8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 cured of their airs for that clay at h.fi. 
 What a long letter I have written ! Permit 
 mC| however, to a flu re you, that I am 
 your mod humble iervant. 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER XXV. i 39 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 Charles to Emilia. 
 
 My friend William has acquitted 
 himfelf fo well, that I have very little 
 more to fay of our Lite excuriion. I 
 fhall foon be with you to tell you all, as 
 our voyage to England is fixed for the 
 end of next month. Your brother is 
 grown very idle, and our time is aim oft 
 entirely loft in amufements. We walk, 
 or ride, from one village to ano- 
 ther; go to the play, pay vifits, 6cc. 
 Yet, now I think of it, I cannot call 
 it time left, I endeavour to get all 
 the information I can refpecting the 
 cuftoms and difpofitions of the people I 
 am now with. I fhall fend them to Dr. 
 Bartlett, and as he has been frequently 
 in this country, he will rectify my mis- 
 taken opinions when I return. Indeed, 
 
 I wifh 
 
i 4 o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 I wifh to fee as much as I can, for I 
 fhould be afhamed, when any one afked 
 me what I had {^n in Holland, to be 
 only abie to fpeak of the air, the ground, 
 the fun, the houfes, the fields, the cat- 
 tle, without being able to add, that the 
 air is warmer or colder, the houfes bet- 
 ter or worfe built, the fields more or 
 lefs fruitful than in England; in fhort, 
 not to be able to give s uifcriminating 
 account of the country and the manners 
 of the people. 
 
 I will now give you a flight fketch. 
 The Dutch appear to me to be fincere 
 and honeft; they have the politenefs of 
 the French without their levity. Their 
 pea fan try and mechanics are the mod: 
 induftrious fet of people I have ever 
 feen, and fo honefr, that it is as fafe in the 
 evening and night in the ftreets as in the 
 houfes. We hear of no duels, mur- 
 ders, or robberies ; nor any of thofe 
 dreadful vices which prevail fo much 
 in England, or of thofe barbarous 
 
 diverfions 
 
LETTER XXV. 141 
 
 diyerfions which pleafe the mob in our 
 country. We never hear of a boxing 
 match for money ; nor do they fight 
 cocks, or bait bulls ; fo that they ap- 
 pear to be a mild people. 
 
 The land is fruitful and well culti- 
 vated, and the climate, I am informed, 
 very vvholefome ; I only regret the year 
 being fo far advanced, that I fliall not 
 fee half the beauties of the country on 
 that account. 
 
 We are going this afternoon to a vil- 
 lage in the neighbourhood of this place. 
 Annette has juft now left the room, 
 after fhewing me her writing, which 
 her young mailer had praifed. But why 
 do not you lay afide your work for an 
 hour, and write an anfwer to William ? 
 or we fhall not be good friends. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 LET. 
 
i 4 2 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 William to Emilia. 
 
 Your brother mentioned, in his la ft 
 letter, that we were going to take a 
 walk; the weather was very fine when 
 we fet out, but the iky looking a littte 
 cloudy, I propofed to your brother to 
 go in the fchuit. How, faid he, are 
 you afraid of a little rain, we have no 
 clothes on that can be fpoiled ? Let us 
 not guard againii every trifling incon- 
 venience : and lb we went on. When 
 we reached the vilhge, which was ra- 
 ther a long walk, we went into a coffee- 
 houfe to drink tea to refrefh ourielves. 
 
 While your brother was reading the 
 newfpaper I walked in the garden, and 
 law, ina diforderly company, a young man 
 a diftant relation of my mother's, whofe 
 father the other day had dined in com- 
 pany 
 
LETTER XXVI. 143 
 
 p.any w!:h your brother. We both of 
 us then obferyed his melancholy coun- 
 tenance, and my mother hinted to us, 
 that me feared his fon's difobedience was 
 breaking his father's heart. I was alarmed 
 at feeing him in fuch company, and 
 enquired of the landlord how long he 
 had been there. Four day?, anfwered 
 he, and during that time, he has fpe'nt 
 fifty five guilders with the companions 
 you fee. He has given me a bill for 
 the money, figned by Mr. H — at the 
 Hague, which I am to receive next 
 Monday. This fpeech made me very 
 uneafv, for I perceived by it he had 
 altered his name. The landlord called 
 him Mr. S — ; and I knew his name to 
 be Van Landbergen, and this made me 
 fufpecl that the bill might be forged. 
 
 I ran to your brother and acquainted 
 him with the circumftance. It may fairly 
 be inferred, anfwered he, that as he has 
 taken a falfe name, he may alio have 
 
 been 
 
H4 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 been guilty of forgery. Such a fliame- 
 ful action will bring the old man to his 
 grave; but we muft try to prevent it, 
 let us fend for the landlord ; and he 
 rang bell. Pie foon entered, and your 
 brother thus addrefled him: (C I hear, Sir, 
 you have a bill drawn on Mr. H — , 
 payable next Monday; I will give you 
 the monev for it, as I have fome ac- 
 counts to fettle with that gentleman, 
 but you muft give me your receipt, and 
 mention that it was for Mr. S — . The 
 landlord was glad to get his money 
 without the trouble of going for it, and 
 immediately wrote the receipt and re- 
 ceived the money ; he then left the 
 room, and we had the following con- 
 vention, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You think that this bill may be 
 forged, and fo do I ; and if it mould 
 really prove that we are right in our 
 
 con- 
 
LETTER XXVI. HS 
 
 conjectures, what would be the lot of 
 young Van Landbergen,afliameful flight, 
 or fcandalous punishment; either of 
 which would grievoufly have afflicted 
 his innocent parent. We mult one day 
 give an account of what heaven has in- 
 truded to us, and what would my ac- 
 count be, if I could only fay, I had the 
 means in my hands to fave a good man 
 from a misfortune which might haVfe 
 fatal conicqnences, and I chofe rather to 
 fpend my money in ufelefs diversions 
 and felfiih plea lures. If the bill is 
 good, I (hall be no lofer ; if not, it 
 will be a fource of perpetual fatisfac- 
 tion to think that I delivered a good 
 father from the fhame his ungrateful 
 (on would have entailed on him. 
 
 WILLIAM 
 
 What an example ! There are many, I 
 know, that may pofllbly, this very even- 
 ing, lofe above fifty guilders at billiards 
 
 vol. ii. H or 
 
t 4 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 or fome other game, who yet would call 
 your ad: of benevolence madnefs. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That is their bufinefs, my friend. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 But if you preient the bill to Mr. 
 H — , will not the forgery be. made 
 equally public ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 That is not my defign : it is to young 
 Landbergen himfelf that we mud: pre- 
 fent it. You have often wifhed me 
 to be acquainted with him; now this 
 bill, if it is not a good one, will give 
 me an opportunity of introducing my- 
 felf to him in the light of a friend. 
 
 We requefted the landlord to bring 
 him into our private room, and he came 
 accordingly, not knowing who fent for 
 him. As foon as he faw me, he feemed 
 difconcerted, which we did not notice 
 
 and 
 
LETTER XXVI. 147 
 
 and your brother civilly afked him to fit 
 down, and the following converfatioa 
 enfued. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 It gives me particular pleafure to 
 meet with the ion of w T orthy Mr, Vaa 
 Landbergen, with whom I dined laft 
 week at Mrs. D — 's houfe; and you 
 will, I hope, pardon me, if I embrace 
 this opportunity of commencing an ac- 
 quaintance with his fon. 
 
 Young Landbergen bowed in great 
 confufion, with his eyes caft down, 
 twitting his hat round upon his hand. 
 
 Charles feemed not to obfervehis con- 
 fufion, pulled the bell to order a bottle 
 of wine, and the converfation continued* 
 
 charles; 
 
 Your father is a worthy fenfible man, 
 Sir. What a happinefs it is to have 
 fuch a father. 
 
 H Z LAND- 
 
i 4 8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 i 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 A great happinefs, Sir. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 You are going, no doubt, to the 
 Hague this evening, Mr. Landbergen ; 
 we may all go together, if it is agreeable 
 to you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 It would give us particular pleafure, 
 as we intend calling on your father. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 I am waiting here for a friend, fo that 
 vvi 
 
 wife- 
 
 it will be late before I can go — other 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Then we mail be deprived of the 
 pleafure of your company, for we pro- 
 mifed to be home early, and our dengn 
 was to -call and inform my mother that 
 we intend to fup with your father. 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 
LETTER XXVI. 149 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Can you inform me, Sir, where Mr. 
 H — lives; I have a fmall bill drawn on 
 him by a Mr. S — : I received it from 
 the landlord. 
 
 Landbergen looked pale at this ques- 
 tion, and without feeming to hear him, 
 darted up and looked out of the win- 
 dow. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 I fear we (hall have heavy rain this 
 evening. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I do not think fo, the fky looks very 
 clear. 
 
 He then took the bill out of his 
 pocket-book, calling a look at the fame 
 time full of humanity at Landbergen. 
 The culprit's confufion was now very 
 great, the bill he inftantly knew, and 
 every limb £hook at the fight. Your 
 H 3 brother 
 
x 5 o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 brother offered him a glafs of wine, 
 but he let it fall, and was going haf- 
 tily to leave the room. Charles, who 
 was now fully convinced of his guilt, 
 caught him by the hand in a friendly 
 manner. No, Sir, you mud not leave 
 us, the fight of this bill feems to have 
 raifed a ftrange perturbation in your 
 mind.- Open your heart to me, I re- 
 fpedt your father, and wifh to efteem 
 you. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 I can fay nothing, Sir, I will write to 
 you in the morning. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, Sir, it is imprudent to write 
 what we dare not or will not fay. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 That fignature — but I beg you will 
 permit me to go. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
LETTER XXVI. 151 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Shall we tear off the fignature? Yes 
 I will on condition you return with me 
 to your father. 
 
 LANDBERGENr 
 
 What generofity ! No, Sir, preferve 
 the fignature, though not with the hope 
 of payment. I ami guilty. I muft fly 
 from my country — comfort my father. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You fly — you who afk me to com- 
 fort your father. No, that fingle fpeech 
 makes me your friend. Come with me 
 to your father, and I (hall deem myfelf 
 happy in having met with you. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 How fhall I hide my fhame from 
 you ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Why fhould you attempt to hide it ? 
 
 it is the fureft fign of goodnefs to be 
 
 H 4 afhamed 
 
i 5 2 YOUNG GRAND'ISON. 
 
 alhamed of our errors. You confent, 
 then 3 you will go with us. 
 
 L A N D B E R G E N. 
 
 Yes — you overcome me. I am under 
 the greateft obligations to you ; but 
 what mall I fay to my father ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Your father is good — he loves you. 
 
 L A N D BE R G E N. 
 
 You do not know all, Sir*: it is now 
 
 four days fince I left home, and 
 
 No, I cannot, I dare not fiy more. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Be^ not afraid to open your whole 
 heart tome; repentance expiates every 
 fault ; your earthly as well as your hea- 
 venly father will forgive you. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 You will defpife me, Sir. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No -, any one who goes aftray, and 
 returns again to virtue, merits our re- 
 fpea. 
 
 LAND- 
 
LETTER XXVI. 153 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 Will you retain any regard for me, 
 when I tell you, that on leaving my 
 father I ftole a fmall fum he had faved, 
 in order to try my fortune at cards; I 
 had already loft a great deal of money 
 with the fame people, whom I now 
 wifhed to play with again. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Yes, certainly; you weep ; thofe tears 
 do you honour; your heart is not bad, 
 but it has been too weak to refill: the 
 allurements of Vice in bad company. 
 
 LANDBERGEN.. 
 
 Yes, Ihave acted a bafe part, and by 
 neglecting my duty, have loft an eligible 
 employment.. And yet I never delibe- 
 rately did wrong. I have always in- 
 tended' to reform^ for I hated myielf 
 when I thought a moment ; and fhuaned 
 my father's eyes as if I dreaded they 
 H 5 would 
 
154 YOUNG GRAND1SON. 
 
 would dart death on me. I frequently 
 ran out, to avoid thought, and forget 
 remorfe, at the gaming-table. Nay, 
 even when I have only gone to take 
 a walk, and determined not to fpend 
 any money, or lofe rriy time, the fight 
 of one of my companions, a finglc 
 word, banifhed all my good refolutions, 
 and I followed him wherever he chofe 
 to lead me. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 The only means to conquer this 
 weaknefs, is refolutely to determine to 
 employ yourfelf> and never to allow 
 your imagination to dwell on fcenes 
 which are likely to inflame it. You 
 were formerly fond of reading, I hear, 
 and have made fome progrefs in mufic; 
 return to thofe rational employments j 
 vifit us when you have finimed your 
 daily talk ; we have got fome new 
 
 mufic. 
 
LETTER XXVI. 155 
 
 mafic. I have fometimes heard my 
 tutor advife a young man, who, like 
 yourfelf, had a good heart, to frequent 
 the company of model!: women ; there 
 are many young ladies at the Hague 
 who will be glad of your company if 
 you a£l with propriety : and their fo- 
 ciety will make you feel difguft when 
 you mix with young people who have 
 loft the charm of innocence. 
 
 LAND BE R G E N. 
 
 But can this ever wafti out the ftain 
 of a falfe fignature ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Undoubtedly it may ; forget this fig- 
 nature, as I fhall. 
 
 (Saying fo, he tore the note.) 
 See there the fmall offering which 
 I make to your repentance and return 
 to virtue. Your father knows nothing 
 of this : let us conceal it from him, 
 
 H 6 Land* 
 
J 5 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 Landbergen embraced his young be- 
 nefactor. We both obferved that he 
 -was very much moved : he grafped 
 Charles's hand, and could only fay, I 
 owe my prefer vat ion, my peace, to 
 you. 
 
 •Had you ken, at this moment, your 
 brother, Mifs Emilia, you would have 
 been delighted. The moft heart-felt 
 fatisfaftion feemed painted on his coun- 
 tenance. We then left the houfe, and 
 during our walk home, we endeavoured 
 in vain to raife Landbergen's fpirits -> he 
 appeared oppreffed by a fenfe of his 
 fault. 
 
 We found the old gentleman his 
 father at home : he received us with 
 the higheft fatisfaclion, and was ftruck 
 with aftonimment to fee his fon enter 
 with us. He viewed him. with tears 
 in his eyes, exclaiming, What my fon I 
 * — Your brother caught hold of each 
 
 9 Q ^ 
 
LETTER XXVI. 157 
 
 of their hands, and joining them to- 
 gether, whifpered the father, <e For- 
 give your fon, he is truly penitent. 
 The fon could not fpeak, he fighed, 
 and his tears fell on his father's hand. 
 The father alfo was fpeechlefs \ but foon 
 recollecting himfelf, he faid, how (hall 
 I interpret this deep concern ! heaven 
 grant it may be fincere! It is fincere, 
 exclaimed the fon, eagerly; fee the gen- 
 tleman to whom I am indebted for all 
 this. He has faved me from fhame, 
 and raifed me from meannefs, by his 
 noble generofity. I earneftly wifh to 
 diftinguifh myfelf by acting properly: 
 fpeak, Mr. Grandifon, my father may 
 know all. — Your father does know, all, 
 fince he knows you repent. We are 
 both young, we have ftill a character to 
 obtain in the world j let us ftruggle for 
 a good one. Let all difagreeable reflec- 
 tions be now laid afide. You (hall hear, 
 
 faid 
 
i 5 8 YOUNG GRANDJSON. 
 
 faid he, taking down young Landber— 
 gen's violin, how well I can play a 
 Dutch tune. 
 
 Farewell ; believe me refpeclfully 
 yours, 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 LET. 
 
LETTER XXVII. 159 
 
 LETTER XXVIL 
 Emilia to William* 
 
 My brother reproved me in his laft, 
 for not having anfvvered your letter. I 
 will now write a long one to make 
 amends -, and, following your example, 
 tell you minutely what I have been 
 doing fince my brother left me. My 
 mother has allowed me a new amufement, 
 which I hope you and Charles will have 
 a mare in when you return. It is a 
 weekly concert, which our mufic maf- 
 ter directs at the different hou-fes of a 
 felecl: number of his fcholars. He 
 thinks, and my mother agrees with 
 him, that it will very much improve us 
 all. 
 
 The daughter of the Earl of B— , 
 who is one of the party, has rendered 
 herfelf very contemptible by her pride 
 
 on 
 
x6o YOUNG GRANDISON, 
 
 on this occafion. But fir ft I muft tell 
 you, that the mufic matter had intro- 
 duced, as one of his bed fcholars, the 
 daughter of an apothecary. Haughty 
 Lady Jane mewed great difpleafure when 
 fhe (aw her enter. The beauty and 
 pleafing manners of that young lady 
 was nothing in her eyes ;_ {he was neither 
 rich, nor of a good family ; that was 
 fufficient to excite her contempt. Mifs 
 G. the young lady in queftion, is really 
 a- very fine girl; educated by her mother, 
 fhe has received the mod ufeful inftruc- 
 tion ■; there was a modeft dignity in 
 her manners, the very contrail of La- 
 dy Jane's haughty affected air. There 
 was the fame contrail in their clothes, 
 the latter had en a profufion of coftly. 
 finery, huddled together according to 
 the fafhion ; but the former was dreffed! 
 in the fimpleft ftyle ; it did not make 
 you fuppofe (ne was rich, but it was 
 fo well calculated to make her perforr 
 
 appear 
 
LETTER XXVII. 161 
 
 appear to advantage, that you quickly 
 perceived her fenfe and tafte. Lady 
 Jane fnuffed up her nofe as we fome- 
 times fee people do when they are afraid 
 of fmelling fomething dilagreeable. 
 Heaven ! faid fhe to me, what does that 
 creature do here ^ I think I fmell drugs. 
 Having laid fo, me took out her laven- 
 der water bottle : I pretended not to 
 hear, and turned to Mils B. with whom 
 I chatted a little. This, perhaps, was 
 not very polite, but I could not help it, 
 for I defpife fuch foolifh pride. Lady 
 Jane afterwards played an air on the 
 harpfichord, and accompanied it with 
 her voice in a very imperfect manner. 
 Soon after it was Mifs G — 's turn, and 
 fhe fung, with great expreffion, a fa- 
 vourite fong : her voice is really a very 
 fine one, and everyone feemed delighted 
 with her performance. Envy at firft 
 was painted on Lady Jane's counte- 
 nance : but it did not flop here, for (he 
 
 made 
 
i6i YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 made an excufe to withdraw with me. 
 And we had the following conven- 
 tion. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 I do not doubt, Mifs Gr&ndifon, but 
 you are of my opinion, that this girl is 
 not fit company for us. 
 
 • EMILIA. 
 
 You have, perhaps, fome reafon for 
 faying f o ; for my part, I do not know 
 why {he may not be one of the party. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 We are all perfons of rank, and the 
 daughter of a peer of the realm cannot 
 be on an equality with a poor apothe* 
 cary's daughter. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I am not the daughter of a peer, of 
 courfe have not been taught to make 
 this difference. 
 
 LADY 
 
LETTER XXVII. 163 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 You are the daughter of a baronet, 
 and a man of confequence. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 My father has taught me that virtue 
 is the beft nobility. The young lady of 
 whom you are fpeaking, is allowed to 
 be a very amiable good girl. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 That may be, I have nothing to fay 
 again ft her character; but I repeat it, 
 her father is an apothecary — her grand- 
 father was an apothecary, and her — 
 E m 1 L 1 A. 
 
 If you run on thus, Lady Jane, to 
 the firft of all our fathers, you will find 
 that {he is nearly related to you and 
 me. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 To you and me ! 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Yes, certainly, you muft allow that 
 we are all fprung from the fame father. 
 
 LADY 
 
1 64 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 That is true, but let us talk ferioufly. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 I fpeak as ferioufly as I can. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 It is not proper that a girl who has 
 no fortune fhould force herfelf into the 
 company of people of rank, 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Our company is not expenfive, and 
 (he did not force herfelf ; on the contrary 
 her mufical talents make her an acquifi- 
 tion to the concert. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 But look at her drefs. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Her drefs is certainly not rich, but 
 neat and elegant. You may yourfelf per- 
 ceive that fhe has good fenfe and tafte, 
 by the choice of her clothes ; without 
 
 fervilely 
 
LETTER XXVII. 165 
 
 fervilely following the fafhion, flic avoids 
 Angularity. She is befides a very fine 
 girl. Thus God, who gives riches to 
 fome, gives to others natural endowments, 
 which many would purchafe at a high 
 price; all'come from the fame benevo- 
 lent Being, in whofe fight virtue only 
 exalts a weak mortal. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 Mifs Grandifon appears to be preach* 
 ing a fermon. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 Forgive me if I do not coincide in 
 opinion with you; my heart is too fincere 
 to diiTemble. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 I mail not difpute about her natural 
 gifts, but I fay once more, that a girl 
 who has no fortune ought not to be 
 put on a par with people of rank and 
 famion. 
 
 EMILIA, 
 
x66 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 It would be very unfortunate that a 
 girl, who had received a good education, 
 mould be deprived of every innocent 
 pleafure becaufe me has no fortune. I 
 for my part would rather endeavour to 
 contribute fomething to afford her the 
 means to 
 
 LADY JANE, hajlily. 
 
 Indeed you make me laugh. This is 
 fomething rare, but that would not pre- 
 ferve her from the contempt which po- 
 verty brings with it. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 The contempt which poverty brings 
 with it, fay you! you aftonifli me. They 
 muft certainly be very unfeeling who can 
 mew any contempt for a well educated 
 perfon in low circumftances. Such a 
 one I think deferves to be defpifed. 
 
 A LADY 
 
LETTER XXVII. 167 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 The world thinks otherwife, and I 
 cannot mend the world, 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 The world then is very mean and 
 felfifh. I hope I never mall defpife any 
 one who is not vicious, and even thofe 
 I have been taught to pity rather than 
 blame. 
 
 LADY JANE. 
 
 You are very good ~> but fince we 
 muft fubmit to the general opinion, 
 mall I defire the mufic mafter to inform 
 the girl, whom we are fpeaking of, not 
 to let us fee her again in our company — 
 or I mail decline coming. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 You may do as you pleafej but you 
 muft allow me to tell him that I do not 
 concur with you. — I then made her a 
 cool curtfy and withdrew. 
 
 She 
 
i68 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 She wrote to the mufic mafter; but 
 all the reft of the company infifted that 
 he mould not comply with fuch an un- 
 reafonable requeft, and deprive us of our 
 beft performer, who was in every refpect 
 a deiirable companion. My mother took 
 particular notice of the young lady in 
 order to give her confequence, and told 
 me, after (he was gone, that fhe had 
 not for a long time ieen to modefl and 
 well educated a girl. 
 
 So ended this foolifh affair. My mo- 
 ther and I had a long converfation on 
 the fubjectj I have not now time to re- 
 peat it, but me animadverted very feverely 
 on that foolifh pride that makes people 
 neglect to attain the real perfonal confe- 
 quence which can only arife from vir- 
 tue, and value themfelves on the acci- 
 dental advantages of birth, riches and 
 external ornaments, which do not con- 
 stitute the pre-eminence of a rational 
 being. Thefe cannot follow them to 
 
 the 
 
LETTER XXVII. ,6 9 
 
 the grave. Farewell. Remember me 
 in the kindefl manner to your mother 
 and little Annette. 
 
 EMILIA, 
 
 P. S. I opened this letter again to 
 enclofe a few lines to my brother. Emi- 
 lia is a good girl, perhaps, he will fay; 
 I am fure I wifli to appear fo in his 
 eves. 
 
 vol. ii. I LET- 
 
i 7 o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 Emilia to Charles. 
 
 i 
 
 I have need of your advice, dear 
 brother. You know that my mother 
 defigned fome months ago to let me 
 have a waiting maid, and me has ever 
 imco been enquiring among her ac- 
 quaintance for a proper one ; and me 
 hired one laft week who had been parti- 
 cularly recommended to her. But this 
 is not all ; I difcovered Charles, before 
 {he had been with me two days, that 
 fhe was very unhappy, and I perceived 
 when {he was dreffing me that (be had 
 been weeping. This affected me very 
 much; I attempted to comfort her and 
 find out the caufe of her grief, and at 
 laft I difcovered it. Why Lucy, faid I, 
 do you cry fo much ; tell me the reafon, 
 
 my 
 
LETTER XXVIII. 171 
 
 my good girl ? confider me not as your 
 miftrefs, but as your friend; perhaps I 
 may be able to alleviate your forrows. 
 She could not fpeak; and preffed my 
 hand in which. I was holding her's ; in 
 fhort, my pity for her, or as (he exprefled 
 it, my goodnefs, gave her courage, and 
 jQie told me that the lady who recom- 
 mended her had concealed her real name. 
 Her father had been a naval officer, and 
 that her mother, by his death, was re- 
 duced to extreme poverty. She added, 
 that me was now affli&ed with a linger- 
 ing illnefs without any means of fupport; 
 and that to be enabled to affift her me 
 determined to go to fervice, and was 
 accordingly recommended to me by the 
 lady who had aflifted her mother. You 
 may imagine what I felt, and I exclaimed, 
 I will go directly to my mother, (he is 
 very companionate. Poor Lucy held me 
 back; for heaven's fake do not do it! 
 keep my fecret. Let me ferve you -, let 
 I 2 me 
 
172 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 me have the fatisfadiion of finding a 
 friend in a miftrefs, for what will be- 
 come of me if I leave you ? My mother 
 made me promife not to mention my 
 name ; and me will never forgive me if 
 I make her diftrefs public. — I was at a 
 lofs.what to refolve on, at laffc I faid, I 
 will keep your fecret provided you live 
 with me as a lifter. But Charles, have 
 I done right in keeping a fecret from 
 my mother ? I vviih I had not made the 
 promife; yet on the contrary I muft 
 have parted with this good girl \ but I 
 confidered again, I ought not to think 
 of myfelf, I ought to perfuade my mo- 
 ther to affifl her. Dear Charles will you 
 fend me your advice, I fhall not be eafy 
 till I hear from you, pray write foon. Do 
 not mention this affair even to William. 
 
 Fly fwiftly a few weeks, and bring 
 my dear Charles to us ! In the courfe of 
 a month we expect to fee you. My 
 mother had feveral times tears in her 
 
 eyes 
 
LETTER XXVIII. i 73 
 
 eyes when fhe read William's account 
 of you : how happy are we when our 
 parents are fatisfied with us ! God cer- 
 tainly loves you Charles, becaufe your 
 parents do. And you would fee that I 
 love you if you could re .id my heart. 
 Farewel my dear brother. 
 
 EMILIA. 
 
 P. S. Charles I muft tell you fome- 
 thing. — No, I will not, you like fp 
 much to furprifa others, for once you 
 .(hall be furprifed yourfelf, 
 
 I 3 LET- 
 
374 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 Charles to Emilia. 
 
 Dear Sifter, 
 
 You mud not keep the unfortunate 
 young lady who has entered into your 
 fervice, you mud let her go back to 
 comfort her afflicted mother. Emilia 
 is much too tender and humane to bear 
 with the attendance of an equal to gra- 
 tify herfelf. You know my mother's 
 goodnefs ; excufe me, but I mud fay that 
 your feniibility was ill placed when you 
 promifed to conceal the matter from her. 
 She who formed your heart to virtue is 
 better able to advife you than I am. 
 Her liberality will provide for that un- 
 fortunate girl fome other means of fup- 
 porting her mother than that of being 
 your waiting maid. Nay, what an ho- 
 nour 
 
LETTER XXIX. 
 
 nour would it be for my Emilia to do 
 without one, and give her wages to a fick 
 widow. My fifter knows well enough 
 how to drefs herfelf, and fuch a pleafi ng 
 reflection would render her little troubles 
 fweet. Let the mean fpirited Lady Jane 
 glory in having ufelefs fervants, Emilia 
 Grandifon will find more fatisfadtion in 
 waiting on herfelf to be able to do more 
 good. Delay not a moment my dear. 
 Now, without any lofs of time, you muft 
 mention every circumftance to my mo- 
 ther ; how much would it diftrefs you if 
 the girl's parent was to die without your 
 being able to effect your humane defign. 
 
 But what furprife do you fpeak of, in 
 the poftfcript of your letter i By whom, 
 by what, (hall I be furprized ? I mail 
 play you a trick for this. However, I 
 remain yours affectionately, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 1 4 LET- 
 
176 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 William to Emilia. 
 
 A letter from Emilia — from the 
 fifter of my friend Charles — what a 
 pleafure ! you are indeed an amiable girl 
 — how far do you outihine the haughty 
 Lady Jane ! Do not frown at the com- 
 panion or fuppofe that I mean to flatter 
 you, for your brother bellowed the 
 warmed praifes on your behaviour. But 
 perhaps our converfation may entertain 
 you. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 How glad I am that my fifter has im- 
 bibed fuch juft notions; I am proud of 
 my fifter. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 You have reaibn to be fo, me deferves 
 to be efteemed; too many young ladies 
 think like Lady Jane, and fatisfied with 
 
 a dif- 
 
LETTER XXX. 177 
 
 a diftinguifhed rank, do not feek to ob- 
 tain real excellence, by improving their 
 minds. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I acknowledge it, but you muft have 
 obferved that nothing is more humili- 
 ating than pride ; the refpect that is paid 
 to a proud perfon is only a mere com- 
 pliment, or done through interefted mo- 
 tives, which degrade the perfon who 
 pays it. It is a mere farce to bow to a 
 being we defpife. ♦ 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 I believe fo. I have more than once 
 feen the lQweft bow made to a haughty 
 man, and no fooner was his back turned 
 than he was ridiculed. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 And what avails their greatnefs and 
 
 wealth to their fellow creature^ , if they 
 
 live only for themfelves. We ought 
 
 then only to be proud of virtue and 
 
 I 5 charity* 
 
i 7 8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 charity-; nay, not even of them for they 
 are duties, and the performance of a duty 
 ought not to excite pride. They only 
 are truly great who let a good example 
 to others ; a diftinguifhed rank is indeed 
 a bleffing when it enables us to do more 
 good. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 I think a proud man cannot love his 
 fellow-creatures, or he would not find 
 io much pleafure in humbling. them, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 There appears a fort of cruelty in 
 price. Might not a poor beggar for in- 
 fbnce thus addrefs a haughty rich man : 
 H How have I deferved you mould look 
 down upon me with fuch contempt. You 
 are rich, I am poor; this is your good 
 luck and my "misfortune, but you mould 
 not make it heavier [by your fcorn, as I 
 certainly have not injured you. If I alk 
 you for any thing you may refufe me, 
 
 and 
 
LETTER XXX. 179 
 
 and I muft be content. I undergo many- 
 difficulties ; go on foot in the rain, 
 without fufficient covering to fcreen me 
 from the keen wind ; benumbed with 
 cold, and almoft linking under my mifery : 
 you, on the contrary, ride in a carriage, 
 and feel none of thefe inconveniences. 
 I bow civilly to you, and you turn away 
 your head with difguft, while the wheels 
 of your coach throw the dirt in my face. 
 Your cruel contempt adds to my fuffer- 
 ings, when a fmile would have lightened 
 them. You defpife my poverty, and 
 force me to recollect that one man is as 
 good as another, in order to comfort 
 myfclf and not repine at my fate. If you 
 keep your money, I fliall not, I cannot, 
 conteft with you. Riches fell to your 
 lot, and I do not covet them • but at 
 lead: pity me; I eat a hard croft, but 
 am ftill a man, and can feel your cruel 
 inhumanity." 
 
 16 "WILL I AM, 
 
180 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 And he ought, befides, to think that 
 the poor and miferable man whom he 
 defpifes may be exalted far above him in 
 another world, but that period appears 
 very far off to thofe who live in fplen- 
 dour. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Far off — a year, a day, an hour, a An- 
 gle moment may deftroy all their hopes, 
 and from a palace they may be removed 
 to the grave $ where all their grandeur 
 ill all vanifh away from their fight as no- 
 thing. The rich go to their ftately 
 tombs, the poor to their humble fod$ 
 but they are no more fenfible of a diffe- 
 rence. This conversation made me 
 
 grave, Mifs Emilia; and mould I add 
 any more I might perhaps continue to 
 moralize. 
 
 We are going this evening to the 
 
 play, and your brother has invited young 
 
 g Landbergen 
 
LETTER XXX. 181 
 
 Landbergen to be of the party; he has 
 his reformation very much at heart. 
 Allow me to aflure you that I' am your 
 fincere friend, 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 LET- 
 
x82 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 Willia m to Emilia. 
 
 Young Landbergen, through the in- 
 tereftof his father and fome other friends, 
 is again reflored to his office. He feems 
 to have a fixed refolution to adhere to 
 his promife, and his old father is revived 
 now he fees his fon returned to virtue. 
 What a fatisfa&ion for my friend, who 
 has produced this reformation. Yef- 
 terday in my prefence he returned him 
 a thoufand thanks. You have taught 
 me to know what is true happinefs, Mr. 
 Grandifon, exclaimed he; I at laft fee 
 that a wicked life is no life ^ how dear 
 have I paid for my licentious pleafures, 
 by my uneafy remorfe. Every day I fell 
 into new errors. Every day they pro- 
 duced new difficulties. What an advan- 
 6 tage 
 
LETTER XXXI. 183 
 
 tage to the mind to be fatisfied with 
 itielf. How happy it is when in the 
 evening we can reflect upon the day 
 without being afiiamed of our conduct. 
 Formerly I was afraid to pray to God, 
 becauie I had not fuflicient refolution to 
 alter my conduct; but now I feel that 
 a prayer affords me comfort. I dare 
 hope that the Supreme Being has again 
 received me into favour. I lately dreaded 
 the fight of my father as if he was an 
 enemy, now he is my bofom friend. My 
 former companions treat me with a kind 
 of difdain, and that difdain is my tri- 
 umph. Yes, interrupted your brother, 
 it is your triumph ; you have now the 
 effeem of better men, you make your 
 father's ^life comfortable, and you will 
 not mifs the trueft fat is faction. I am 
 forry that we are fo foon to part, will you 
 allow me to correfpond with you ? Will 
 I? anfwered Landbergenj it would make 
 me very happy. You cannot think how 
 
 much 
 
1 84 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 much he is improved in his appearance 
 fince his return to virtue, I can fcarcely 
 believe that the handfome young man 
 I now fee, is the fame being whofe looks 
 almoft terrified me. 
 
 Our departure for London is fixed for 
 the 26th of next month. We often 
 count the hour for we all long to fee 
 you. Your brother has juft been making 
 me laugh. He is the life and foul of the 
 whole houfej we fhall all foon laugh 
 together, till then adieu. 
 
 WILLIAM* 
 
 LET- 
 
LETTER XXXII. 185 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 William to Emilia. 
 
 An officer was juft: now announced, 
 and who do you think it was, dear Mifs 
 Emilia, but our old friend Edward. 
 What an agreeable furprize to us all ! 
 Annette, who faw me making him cor- 
 dially by the hand, ran to tell my mo- 
 ther, but me expedted him, for Lady 
 Grandifon, as we afterwards heard, had 
 acquainted her with his intention. I 
 would inflantly have called your bro- 
 ther, but Edward held me back : let us 
 play him a trick, faid he, he knows 
 nothing of my coming. Perhaps the 
 fudden furpize may hurt him, faid my 
 mother. No, replied Edward, I am not 
 afraid of that. Charles continued writ- 
 ing longer than ufual in his chamber ; 
 
 when 
 
186 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 when fupper was ready he was called 
 down ; Edward before had placed him- 
 ielf by the fire, with his back to the 
 door. Charles entered, he knew him 
 immediately, and moved ibme fteps 
 backwards, but, before he could fpeak, 
 he obferved Annette's fmilmg counte- 
 nance, and determined to humour the 
 joke. Edward, in the mean time, con- 
 tinued fitting, thinking he was flill con- 
 fidered by Charles as a ftranger. This 
 produced feveral laughable incidents ; 
 which highly diverted Annette, and evea 
 made my mother fmile. 
 
 Afterwards we fpent a mod agreeable 
 evening, and Edward made me a prefent 
 of a very elegant fword. I hefitated, 
 and was unwilling to receive it ; not for 
 the world, faid I ; I have often heard 
 that it forebodes a breach of friendship. 
 How, interrupted Charles, can you give 
 way to fuch prejudices ? Leave them to 
 weak minds that have never been pro- 
 perly 
 
LETTER XXXII. 187 
 
 perly cultivated -, that foolifh idea is as 
 abiurd as the raw head and bloody bones 
 with which they frighten little chil- 
 dren. Adieu, you kept your fecret very 
 well. 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
 LET. 
 
x88 YOUNG GRANDISON, 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 William to Emilia. 
 
 We have been in a moil: dreadful 
 consternation occafioned by a falfe alarm, 
 but it is now over, and has not been at- 
 tended with any bad confer] uence-s. Ed- 
 ward was very curious to fee the envi- 
 rons of this city, accordingly we went 
 the day before yefterday to a village that 
 is reckoned one of the pleafantefl in 
 Holland ; the weather was that day very 
 fine, confidering 'the time of the year. 
 Edward and I were converting with great 
 earneftnefs ; he was particularly pleafcd 
 with the high cultivation of the land, 
 and the neat appearance of our farm- 
 houfes. Charles was fome paces behind 
 us; he flopped to a (Tift two little chil- 
 dren 
 
LETTER XXXIII. 189 
 
 dren who were defending themfelves 
 againfl a dog, that had been, as we af- 
 terwards heard, provoked and tormented * 
 by fome idle wicked boys ; before your 
 brother could raife his ftick the enraged 
 cur flew at him and bit his leg. The 
 children in the mean time ran away and 
 the dog after them, with his tail be- 
 tween his legs and his mouth wide 
 open ; he ruihed by Edward, who alli- 
 ed if I was not frightened, and we then 
 turned round to look for Charles. We 
 walked flowly till he overtook us ; he 
 faid nothing of the accident, and we did 
 not perceive a little fpot of blood that 
 was on his flocking. 
 
 When we entered into the village we 
 found it in an uproar. We heard nothing 
 on all fides but the dog is mad ! the dog 
 is mad ! and, as is ufually the cafe, every 
 one endeavoured to make the (lory appear 
 more dreadful ; one faid that he had bit 
 a horfe, another five cows, nay, added 
 
 the 
 
r,o YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 the third, it was five men. Charles 
 looked pale, but we did not guefs the 
 caufe, till he pointed to the fpot of 
 blood on his flocking, and cried out fee 
 there, — I am one of them. We then 
 went into a public-houfe, but Edward 
 would not ftay a moment, he enquired 
 where the furgeon of the village lived, 
 and ran like lightning to afk his advice ^ 
 but, unfortunately, he was not at home, 
 Edward would not return without him, 
 and ran to the different places, where it 
 was fuppofed, he might be. 
 
 In the mean time I remained with 
 your brother in a fiuation of mind which 
 I declare I never felt before, in a fort of 
 ftupefaction, which I cannot defcribe. 
 Before he fat down he put a large poker 
 in the fire, and once or twice I heard 
 the name of his parents efcape from his 
 lips, in a voice fcarcely articulate. I 
 went to him and caught him by the 
 
 hand, 
 
LETTER XXXIIL1 191 
 
 hand, exclaiming, in an agony, did you 
 vifit me for this ! 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Dear William, here, or in any other 
 place, the fame misfortune might have 
 befallen me. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 But you, my friend, who are io vir- 
 tuous, whofe heart is fo generous, who 
 never negle&ed your duty — furely, you 
 did not deferve — 
 
 Charles, interrupting me. 
 
 Take care, William, do not let your 
 friendihip lead you to arraign the good- 
 nefs of God J If I indeed have endea- 
 voured to follow the good example of 
 my father, and have been a comfort to 
 my parents, I can with lefs terror view 
 death : if I am indeed near it. But that 
 may not be the cafe, I mall take the 
 flep that reafon fuggefts, and leave the 
 reft to God. 
 
 w 1 L- 
 
192 YOUNG GRAND.ISON. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Noble foul ! No, I repeat it, you 
 merited a better fate. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Shew more refpect to the Sovereign 
 Difpofer of our deftiny. Excufe my be- 
 ing a little ferious with you; he who 
 gave me being, has a right to take it 
 away, when and how he pleafes. I 
 hope Dr. Bartlett's leilbns are not thrown 
 aw r ay upon me; with gratitude and joy 
 have I prayed to my heavenly Father, 
 when I have been walking alone in the 
 country — and even now I can pray to 
 him. 
 
 He turned his eyes involuntarily up 
 to heaven. I fobbed, threw myfelf round 
 his neck, and could not fpeak, it was as 
 if my lips were fealed together. He 
 then enquired for Edward, and when he 
 heard that he was gone for a furgeon, he 
 faid, friendly creature ! what I dread 
 
 moffc 
 
LETTER XXXIIL 193 
 
 moil in this c ire um fiance is fufpenfe, 
 but I mull have patience. Should any 
 accident befall me, William, be a com- 
 fort to my parents. I believe that the 
 cataflrophe of this diforder is defcribed 
 as much more dreadful than it really is ; 
 few men go mad on account of the bite 
 of a mad dog, and I never heard of any 
 who communicated the canine delirium 
 to the friends or relations who attended 
 on them. 
 
 He then earneftly requefled me to 
 leave the room for a few minutes. I was 
 obliged reluctantly to comply ; and when 
 I returned, caught him courageoufly fear- 
 ing the part with the red hot poker which 
 he had put into the fire for that purpofe. 
 He tried to conceal from me the violent 
 pain he endured ; and did not utter a 
 fmgle groan, left he fhould increafe 
 my anguifh. Edward that moment 
 entered, in a tranfport, with the iden- 
 tical little cur in his arms, crying, There 
 
 vol. 11. K is 
 
X94 YOUNG GRAND I SON. 
 
 is no danger, make yourfelves eafy ! 
 Charles turned his eyes towards heaven, 
 with a look of gratitude -, for my part 
 I was almoft out of my fenfes for joy. 
 The man, to whom the dog belonged, 
 accompanied Edward, and informed us, 
 that the poor creature, having been pro- 
 voked and chafed about, ran haftily home 
 and hid itfelf under a bed. The general 
 cry at firft, he owned, made him afraid, 
 (in fpite of his reafon) that a dog, who 
 half an hour before was perfectly well, 
 might now bemad; but that fhortly after, 
 when he enticed it from its hiding place, 
 it was very glad to eat and drink, and 
 he perceived that the poor creature had 
 only been terrified by cries and blows, 
 anddid not mew the lea ft fig n of mad- 
 nefs *. Fortunately this man lived at 
 one of the houfes Edward was directed 
 
 * In Holland, no dogs are allowed to run in the 
 flreet? daring the fummer hot months, without be- 
 ing fecuied by a fmall cord. 
 
 to, 
 
 
LETTER XXXIII. I9S 
 
 to, when he was feeking for the (sur- 
 geon. 
 
 Was it not a very happy circumftance, 
 dear Mifs Emelia, that the dog was not 
 killed in the fcuffle, for we mould ftill 
 have remained in the mod painful ftate 
 of fufpenfe, if we had not feen the ani- 
 mal perfectly well. You will fee the 
 dog, for Edward bought him, not for 
 his beauty, but to make Sir Charles and 
 his Lady perfectly eafy. 
 
 The furgeon foon followed, but did 
 not find it neceffary to bleed your bro- 
 ther } he applied a plaifter to his leg, 
 which was very painful on account of 
 the fearing. We hired a horfe that he 
 might not be obliged to walk home on 
 it, and ran in high fpirjts by his fide, 
 for I was afraid that my mother might 
 have heard of the accident before we 
 arrived, and I knew the effccl it would 
 have on her fpiritsl What uncom- 
 mon refignation and firmnefs of mind 
 K 2 cid 
 
i 9 6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 did your brother exhibit on this diftreff- 
 ing occafion ! Surely true courage can 
 only arife from virtue. I always tender- 
 ly loved him, but never before felt fuch 
 a degree of refpecT: and admiration ; even 
 when he was in the mod violent pain he 
 thought lefs of himfelf than others. 
 Dear Emilia, I know your heart will 
 leap for joy, as does at prefent that of 
 your affectionate friend 
 
 WILLIAM, 
 
 P. S. I muft add a few lines to tell 
 my dear fitter that I am perfectly well. 
 William has fpoken too highly of my 
 compofure ; if I had had more prefence 
 of mind, I mould not have paid any 
 attention to what thofe ignorant people 
 faid 5 I mould have recollecled how 
 often I have heard ilories in England 
 about mad dogs and cats, that fome 
 trifling accident gave rife to. Tell my 
 2 father 
 
LETTER XXXIII. 197 
 
 father and mother, and tell yourfelf, 
 tli at I never before felt that I loved you 
 all fo very very tenderly. God blefs and 
 preferve us all, and may we be a com- 
 fort to each other. 
 
 CHAUS S. 
 
 K 7 LET- 
 
j 9 8 YOUNG GRAND IS ON, 
 
 LETTER XXXIV, 
 
 William ^ Emilia, 
 
 We live now in a kind of continual 
 diffipation ; our inftruments, our draw- 
 ings, our books, all are packed up and 
 ready to be lent on board. We are per- 
 petually in motion, we eat, drink, fleep 
 and vifit like thofe people who have 
 nothing to do, and try to kill time be- 
 caufe they do not know how to employ 
 it; what a miferable life muft: fuch beings 
 lead ! Shall I tell you, that the thoughts 
 of taking leave of my native country is 
 very painful to me -, I muft confels my 
 weaknefs, dear Emilia •> though I ar- 
 dently long to be in London, I feel the 
 moil lively concern. Your brother com- 
 mends this weaknefs. It is natural, he 
 
 fays, 
 
LETTER XXXIV. 199 
 
 fays, and, in his opinion, we fhould be 
 very unfeeling, if we could leave the 
 country, where we have been born and 
 educated, without being affected. Yef- 
 terday we paid a viiit to Mr. Landbergen ; 
 his fon ftill behaves with the greatefl 
 propriety; and, as the tender father 
 confiders your brother as the inftrument 
 of his darling's reformation, his coun- 
 tenance is always lighted up with joy at 
 our approach. When we entered he in- 
 troduced a French gentleman to us, 
 who appeared by his drefs and manners 
 to be in reduced circumftances. • There 
 was an appearance of mildnefs and good- 
 nature in his face that inftantly intereft- 
 ed us. I have frequently felt myfelf 
 thus attached in a moment to a perfon 
 who had a mild and benevolent counte- 
 nance. Mr. Landbergen defired his fon 
 to fliew us two landfcapes drawn by 
 the gentleman, in whofe favour we were 
 fo inftantly interefted, which were really 
 K 4 very 
 
200 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 very beautiful. We could not forbear be- 
 ftowing the praifes on them they fo 
 juftly merited; and I felt a little vexed 
 with myfelf when I recollected how 
 very inferior mine were. The young 
 painter very modeftly received our 
 praifes, and foon after left the room. 
 We then again viewed the landfcapes, 
 and Charles remarked that he had very 
 pleailng manners, and very much the 
 air of a gentleman. Yes. faid Mr. Land- 
 bergen, he is a good young man and a 
 gentleman, though an unfortunate one. 
 He received a very liberal education, 
 but the lofs of his parents and fome 
 other misfortunes, obliged him to exert 
 his talents in order to earn a fub- 
 fiftence. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I pity any one who lofes their parents 
 early in life ; for they are our deareft and 
 mod faithful friends. 
 
 LAND- 
 
LETTER XXXIV. 201 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 He has been here fome months, and 
 has not met with all the encouragement 
 he deferves 5 his modefty prevents hiiai 
 from pufhing himfelf forwards, or taking 
 thofe methods that many of inferior 
 abilities pra&ife to obtain the name of 
 able artifls. He w T ifhes to fell thofe two 
 pictures, and, to ipare him the difagree- 
 able tafk of offering them to fale himfelf, 
 I defired him to leave them here. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 What does he ait for them ? 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 Thirty guilders. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 He undervalues them; that is too 
 little. 
 
 LANDBERGEN. 
 
 Few think fo nobly as you do, Sir ; 
 
 though they are certainly very well 
 
 K 5 done, 
 
202 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 done, and very cheap, I have not yet 
 been able to find a purchafer. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I like thefe pieces fo well I mall be 
 very happy to have them that I may copy 
 them ; I mould be very proud, indeed, 
 if I could draw but half as well. It is 
 very inhuman not to pay an ingenious 
 man the full price for his labour, or to 
 undervalue the productions of an unfor- 
 tunate gentleman. 
 
 The fubjecl: was now dropped, but 
 when we took our leave, Charles gave 
 Mr. Landbergen fifty guilders for the 
 pictures ; and as we walked home they 
 were the fubjecl of our converfation. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I am glad that chance threw thofe 
 pictures in my way, they are painted 
 in a mafterly ftyle. 
 
 £ D- 
 
LETTER XXXIV. nos 
 
 EDWARD. 
 
 They are well executed, I believe, 
 but confefs now Charles that you bought 
 thofe pictures rather to be ferviceable to 
 the painter, than to pleafe yourfelf. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Pray, Edward, who made you my fa- 
 ther confeffor ? 
 
 E D W A R D. 
 
 You need not try to hide it, I faw 
 you was determined not to buy a bar- 
 
 gain, 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 The pieces are worth the money, and. 
 it was incumbent on me to give fifty 
 guilders for them. Believe me, he wha 
 will not, or cannot, give the full value, 
 for a thing mould let it alone, and not at- 
 tempt to defraud a perfon in diftrefs*. 
 
 K 6 e s>- 
 
404 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 EDWARD. 
 
 Do not fuppofe that I mean to blame 
 you; you are frugal and fparing in every 
 thing that refpe£ts your own private gra- 
 tification, only to have it more in your 
 power to be generous to others; you even 
 cheerfully bear inconveniences which 
 you endeavour to guard your friends 
 from ; nay, you are as indulgent to 
 them as fevere on yourfelf. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You are very obliging, Edward, but 
 let us be ferious. MuiT; it not be very 
 painful to an artift to hear his labour 
 and trouble undervalued, by thofe who 
 are unable to produce any thing like it 
 themfelves ; nay, is it not unjuft to en- 
 deavour to cheapen a thing, when you are 
 confcious that only a reafonable price was 
 demanded for it ? In the prefent cafe, 
 the French gentleman was impelled by 
 his diftrefs to offer them as a bargain ; 
 
 and 
 
LETTER XXXIV. 205 
 
 and could I take advantage of the diftrefs 
 of a fellow-creature ? 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 My mother is entirely of your opinion. 
 She has often told me that I mould re- 
 gulate my actions by an invariable rule 
 of right, and, above all, never take 
 advantage of the misfortunes of ethers 
 to benefit myfelf. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I feel a particular refpecl for men of 
 abilities, and mould think wealth in- 
 deed a blefiing, if it enabled me to be 
 of ufe to them. 
 
 We now reached home, as I have the 
 bottom of my paper. Farewell, 
 
 "WILLIAM, 
 
 LET- 
 
2q6 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 LETTER XXXV. 
 
 William /j, Emilia,. 
 
 Your brother went yeflerday to vifit 
 the painter I mentioned to you, and Ed- 
 ward to read the news-paper in a neigh- 
 bouring coffec-houfe ; I ftayed at home, 
 to tranfacl: iome bufinefs for my mother. 
 Charles returned firft, and was fcarcely 
 feated, when Edward ran in with great 
 hafte. — I am glad, iuid he, to find you 
 at home, I met at the coffee-houfe, by 
 chance, a poor Englishman. Will you 
 affift me to relieve a countryman, for 
 they feem to have the firft claim to our. 
 benevolence ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I do not think fo ; I mould not aik,. 
 when I faw a man in diftrefs, what 
 countryman he was, whether he was a 
 
 Dutch- 
 
 9 
 
LETTER XXXV. 207 
 
 Dutchman, Englishman or Frenchman ; 
 I mould feel companion. But where is 
 your Engliihman ? let me fee him. 
 Come with us, William. We all 
 three went to the door, and found a 
 young man who feemed about four and 
 twenty, who had an appearance of ex- 
 treme poverty. Your brother Charles 
 exprefled feme aftonifhment ; I fuppofe 
 he had prepared himfelf to meet an old 
 man, for I have often heard him fay that 
 healthy young ones, except in particular 
 circumstances, need never want, and 
 that their diftrefs is generally a proof 
 of their idlenefs. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You have applied to my brother for 
 affiftance, my friend ; we will do fome- 
 thing for you. Who are you ?• 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 My father was a reputable Shoemaker ; 
 but he died fuddenly, and left my mo- 
 ther 
 
2 o8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 ther in great diftrefs with two fons ; my 
 
 brother went to fervice, and I endea- 
 voured to get fome employment in Lon- 
 don ; but after having been often dis- 
 appointed, I determined to try my for- 
 tune in foreign parts. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Whom did your brother live with ? 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 With a Sir Charles Grandifon. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Was his name Harry ? 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 Yes, Sir; did you know him ? 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 I certainly knew him, and am very 
 forry to find you are his unworthy bro- 
 ther. So it was you who lived on your 
 poor mother, when fhe was a widow 
 and in great diftrefs ; it was you who 
 
 ufed 
 
LETTER XXXV. 209 
 
 ufed to borrow money of your brother 
 to buy liquor with; and when you left 
 your drunken companions, you went 
 home and abufed your aged unfortu- 
 
 nate parent. 
 
 ENGLISHMAN, 
 
 Oh, Sir! pray hear me out j I have 
 done all I could to get work here; and 
 have feverely fmartcd for my folly, 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 And dare you hope for compaffion ; 
 you who had no compaffion on your 
 own mother, for whom you ought to 
 have worked as your brother did. He 
 is, in my efleem, no better than a mon- 
 fier in nature, who forgets to honour 
 and love his parents. Of what do you 
 complain ? Do you not know that the 
 Supreme Being fends down his judg- 
 ments upon fuch children as you are ? 
 Did your mother nouriin you in your 
 
 vouth, 
 
210 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 youth, and preferve you from all harm, 
 to be abufed by you when fhe was grown 
 old, and to fee you give yourfelf up en- 
 tirely to idlenefs, and from idler efs to 
 vice ? You are fallen into beggary, take 
 care or fomething worfe may follow. 
 
 EDWARD. 
 
 Go your way, all faults may be for- 
 given but thofe of an ungrateful fon. 
 He who could treat his parents with 
 cruelty, mull have a very depraved heart, 
 and deferves nothing but cruelty from 
 others. 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 If you knew what I have fuffered from 
 ficknefs and want, and how fincerely I 
 repent, I think that you would (till pity 
 me. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 Wha* ck> you now refolve to do ? 
 
 E N G- 
 
LETTER XXXV. . 211 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 If I could get a little money to buy 
 myfelf a coat, I would endeavour to 
 work my paffage to London and feek 
 for my brother. 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 You would go and live an idle life at 
 his expence, but you will never more 
 be a burthen to him ; your worthy bro- 
 ther lived with my father, and died a 
 few months ago in my arms. 
 
 ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 Then, indeed, I have loft my only 
 friend. — (And he burfted into tears.) 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 No, as I refpe&your worthy brother's 
 memory, I will give you an old coat of 
 mine and fome neceflaries, and procure 
 you a paffage on board the packet we are 
 
 to 
 
212 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 to fail in to-morrow or next day, but 
 only on condition that you will pro- 
 mife to go to fea when I procure you a 
 birth ; I will not bring a begger back 
 to my native country. 
 
 Your brother then gave him fome 
 money to provide himfelf with a dinner, 
 for he looked half famiflxed. 
 
 This is the laft letter I (hall have the 
 pleafure to write to you from Holland ; 
 I wifli we had already fct fail, I feel 
 quite low fpirited at being obliged to 
 take leave of fo many friends and ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Mr. Landbergen has j-uft left us with 
 tears in his eyes, and we have renewed 
 our promife of correfponding with his 
 fon -, nay, your brother faid it was poffi- 
 ble he might again fee him, for that he 
 was fo pleafed with his journey to Hol- 
 land, it was probable, if his father made 
 no objedtion, that he and I fhould, 
 
 fome 
 
LETTER XXXV. 213 
 
 ibme future time, pay them a longer 
 vifit. He faid fo, I believe, to com- 
 fort me as well as Mr. Landbergen. In 
 a few days I hope in perfon to allure 
 you that I am your frncere friend, till 
 then do not forget 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 P. S. I muft tell you that Charles 
 received a letter from Lady Grandifon 
 this morning, with a bill'enclofed in it. 
 His eyes fparkled with pleafure, and foon 
 after he went out without afking me 
 to accompany him ; but returned with 
 fuch a cheerful afpecl:, that I am fure 
 he went on fome benevolent errand ; I 
 fufpe<5l to the young French painter; 
 though I did not make any, even indirect 
 enquiries, for I think a friend fhould 
 not act like a fpy, nor be impertinently 
 curious to tr.y to difcover what another 
 
 chofes 
 
2i+ YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 chufes to conceal. — If your brother 
 willies to do good in fecret, may he en- 
 joy the filent plaudits of his own heart. 
 I know already enough to make me 
 love him, and long to fojlow his ex- 
 ample. 
 
 LET 
 
LETTER XXXVI. 215 
 
 LETTER XXXVI. 
 
 Wi lliam to young Mr. Van Lan dbergen. 
 
 I promised to inform you of our 
 fafe arrival ; well, here we are in Lon- 
 don, happy as our hearts could with. 
 We were received in the mod cordial 
 manner by all this dear worthy family, 
 and Sir Charles and Lady Grandifon em- 
 braced their fon with frefli warmth, 
 when they law the little cur we brought 
 with us : and he feemed delighted with 
 this frem teftimony of their affection. 
 
 Our paffage was very plea fan t, and I 
 cannot forbear communicating to you 
 an inftance of Charles's confiderate be- 
 nevolence. It is the bufinefs of a gene- 
 rous foul to find every where opportu- 
 nities of doing good. Perhaps, yes, it 
 
 appears 
 
216 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 appears very probable, that the Supreme 
 Being makes choice of thofe who endea- 
 vour to pleafe him, to diftribute his 
 bleffings through their hands. On the 
 contrary, in what a fearful ftate are thofe 
 who, by their vices, are feparated from 
 God. I was ftruck with a remark 
 which Dr. Bartlett once made in my 
 prefence, " Woe to thofe who by their 
 evil deeds, and the mifery they bring 
 on others, feem to be His instruments of 
 punifhment — how are they feparated 
 from God and happinefs !" 
 
 When we went on board the packet 
 Charles particularly obferved a man who 
 was obliged to be lifted on board, fick- 
 nefs had fo wafted his ftrength. The 
 poor man was very much emaciated, 
 and had a violent cough, which feemed 
 to fhake his whole frame ; yet he had 
 fcarcely fufRcient covering to fhield him 
 from the cold, though it was piercing 
 weather, and his weak lungs evident- 
 
LETTER XXXVI. 217 
 
 ly could ill bear to be fo roughly af- 
 faulted. 
 
 Charles did not delay a moment to 
 enquire who he was and what ailed him. 
 He found that the poor man came to 
 Holland about bufinefs, and had been 
 detained by a fever much longer than he 
 expected ; but that being a little better, 
 and finding himfelf juft able to travel, 
 he was haftening back to his wife and 
 children. 
 
 Charles foon contrived to get into 
 converfation with him, and obicrved 
 that he muft fuffer very feverely from 
 the cold, for the poor wretch was afraid 
 to go down into the cabin, his breath 
 was fo very fhort. I do fuffer, replied 
 the invalid, but heaven will ftrengthen 
 me ; I have already, during the courfe 
 of my life, been enabled to bear more 
 than I imagined I could ever have en- 
 dured. — Charles interrupted him, and 
 pulling off his great coat, laid, fee now 
 
 Vol. II. L what 
 
2i8 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 what heaven fends you. I am young 
 and in good health, and can bear cold 
 much better than you. The fick man 
 viewed him with aftonifhment. Ed- 
 ward, who was at a little diftance, ran 
 up and whifpered Charles, what are 
 you going to fight? Yes, anfwered 
 Charles, a little difconcerted, I am go- 
 ing to fight againft the cold, to preferve 
 this poor man from it, who might, 
 perhaps, catch his death. He then 
 helped him to put it on, and haftily 
 left him, not only to avoid his thanks, 
 but to prevent any one elfe from ob- 
 ferving what he termed a common act 
 of humanity. Edward /till went on, 
 extolling his benevolence \ he flopped 
 him, faying— -What have I done? Is it 
 fuch a great act of benevolence for one 
 who is in good health and ftrong, to 
 give his great coat to a poor fick man 
 benumbed with cold ? One of the em- 
 perors of China, when in the field of 
 4 battle, 
 
LETTER XXXVI. 7.19 
 
 battle, gave his own fur cloak to one of 
 his officers, faying, when his nobles 
 feemed to wonder at it, that he wifhed 
 he was able to give a cloak to every one 
 of his foldiers. Should I, then, regard 
 myfelf more than a monarch who looks 
 upon himfelf as the ruler of the whole 
 earth, faid he, laughing -, and then be- 
 gan to talk about fomething elfe. 
 
 Charles and Edward are gone out a 
 riding, and I ftaid at home to write to 
 you. 
 
 They are come home, I hear Charles 
 ringing as he walks along the pafTage— 
 he has charming fpirits. 
 
 IN CONTINUATION. 
 
 Charles entered my room; — You arc 
 writing to Mr. Landbergen, I fuppofe, 
 faid he, will you give me leave to add a 
 few words -, but fold up your letter, 
 for I do not want to fee what you have 
 written ; letters are facred even as our 
 L z thoughts, 
 
220 YOUNG GRAND I SON. 
 
 thoughts, and a friend mould not take 
 advantage of the confidence repofed in 
 him. Dr. Bartlett has often cautioned 
 me always to keep up a little ceremony 
 with a friend, and repeated the old pro- 
 verb, that too much familiarity breeds 
 contempt. I have fcarcely left him 
 room to write a line. Adieu, 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 P. S. I have only juft room to tell 
 you that we are all well and happy. I 
 will foon write you a long letter, in the 
 mean time prefect my refpec/ts to your 
 father, and believe me to be your affec- 
 tionate friend 
 
 CHARLES. 
 
 L E T- 
 
LETTER XXXVII. 221 
 
 LETTER XXXVIL 
 Landbergen to Charles. 
 
 Permit me, dear Sir, to beg your 
 advice refpecling a plan which gratitude 
 and duty have fuggefted to me. I ear- 
 neftly long to make fome amends for 
 my pad behaviour, and convince my 
 father that I have now a jult fenfe of his 
 goodneis. I contracted many debts, the. 
 difcharge of which involved him in 
 difficulties ; I have now determin- 
 ed to lave a part of my income, and 
 have reafon to think I (hall foon be ad- 
 vanced on account of my qiligence.. 
 You know that for fome years he h. s 
 been obliged, as the only means to fup- 
 port himfelf, to attend fome young gen- 
 tlemen as a private tutor. Indeed hs 
 L 3 made 
 
222 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 made himfelf a ilave to it in order to 
 fupport me in my extravagance, and, 
 in (lead of banifhin^ me from his houfe 
 and heart, as I deferved, he received me 
 with open arms, when I returned, and 
 faid, Bleffed be heaven, I have again 
 found my fon ! As his health begins to 
 break, I vvifh to perfuade him to give 
 up his long troublefome walks ; and I 
 am fure that in a fhort time I (hall be 
 able to maintain both him and myfelf 
 very genteelly. 
 
 I have now to mention another cir- 
 cumstance to you fince you led me to fee 
 the charms of virtue, and experience 
 its heart-felt pleafures. I have been at- 
 tached to a very amiable young woman, 
 who has a fmall fortune, and I mould 
 not hefitate a moment about marrying 
 her, only I am afraid to entangle myfelf 
 with a family before I have provided 
 for my father. Added to this, one of 
 my relations has propofed to me to mar- 
 ry 
 
LETTER XXXVII. 223 
 
 ry an old widow who is very rich, and 
 he affures me I mould not be rejected, 
 if I offered her my hand. After what 
 I have told you, you may fuppofe I feel 
 no great affection for her. Yet, I fome- 
 times think, I ought this way to pro- 
 vide for a parent I have fo grofsly in- 
 jured. I know not what to determine 
 on; pray write to me foon, and give 
 me your opinion without any referve, 
 by fo doing you will add to the obliga- 
 tion already conferred on your fmcere 
 friend 
 
 G. LANDBE RGEN. 
 
 L4 LET- 
 
224 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 LETTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Charles to Landbergen, 
 
 With what pleafure did I read over 
 your letter ! how happy am I to find 
 th~t you have fuch a juft fenfe of your 
 duty ! I agree with yen that an old 
 man, whofe health has been injured by 
 cares and forrows, ought not to work 
 for his bread, when he has young and 
 healthy children. Allow him as much 
 of your falary as you can fpare -, it is 
 the firfl debt you ought to pay. You 
 may, by this means, be obliged to deny 
 ycurfelf fome fuperfluities, and even, 
 what the world calls neceffaries, but 
 how richly will you be repaid for this 
 felf- denial ! However fince you have con- 
 fided 
 
LETTER XXXVlII. 225 
 
 iided in me, let me take the liberty to 
 fuggeft to you, that you muft never re- 
 cede from an engagement deliberately 
 entered into with a father. Weigh this 
 nutter well in your mind, and confider 
 that no marriage contract will releafe you 
 from this prior one; and if, after mature 
 deliberation, you find that you have fuffi- 
 cient refolution to fulfil what you intend 
 to promife, give way to that laudable ar- 
 dour, which your love and gratitude for 
 your father infpires. If not, permit 
 him, as long as heaven grants him 
 ftrength, to follow his prefent employ- 
 ment, and allow him as much as you 
 can fpare to lighten his cares, without 
 making any formal promife. 
 
 As to your marrying one woman 
 while you love another, it appears to 
 me the moft mocking breach of duty ; 
 and we are not to fulfil one duty by 
 facrificing another. I muft own I do 
 not think you can have any great chance 
 L j for 
 
226 YOUNG GRANDISON. 
 
 for happinefs (fuppofing your affections 
 
 were not engaged) with a woman old 
 
 enough to be your mother. No, do 
 
 not marry (he widow ! Have a little 
 patience, and in a year or two you may 
 
 be a^e to offer your hand to the girl 
 your heart has chofen, and your father 
 may be happy in the bofom of your fa- 
 mily. Do you think that he could be 
 happy if your peace was facrificed to 
 procure him a few of the conveniences 
 of life ? You know little of him, if you 
 think fo ; he would be doubly diftrefTed 
 if he faw you unhappy. Believe me, a 
 father like yours can only find his hap- 
 pinefs in the happinefs of his child; open 
 your heart to him, and never think of mar- 
 rying without his approbation. For my 
 part, I hope never to enter into the mar- 
 riage itate without having my choice 
 coniirmed by the confent of my parents, 
 who, I am fure, will never perfuade me to 
 marry merely from pecuniary motives. 
 
 I have 
 
L E T T E R XXXVIII. 227 
 
 I have heard my father fay, that a child 
 mould always choofe the perfon he is to 
 be united to \ but a parent who has 
 afted like a friend by giving his children 
 a good education, ought always to have 
 a negative voice. I mall make no apo- 
 logy for having complied with your re- 
 queft : try what has flowed from the 
 lincerity of my heart by the teft of a 
 wifer judgment, and believe me to be 
 fincerely your friend, 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 LET. 
 
228 YOUNG GRAND I SON. 
 
 LETTER XXXIX. 
 
 William to Landbergen, 
 
 Next week we are to leave this 
 houfe, and the very thought of it makes 
 me fad j but our future refidence is fo 
 near that I can have a daily intercourfe 
 with my valuable friends. Charles and 
 I fhall exereife ourfelves together in the 
 arts and fciences, and I (hall receive the 
 benefit of all his matters : it will then 
 be my own fault if I do not acquire 
 knowledge. I fhall write to you often, 
 my dear Landbergen, and you, I hope, 
 will anfwer my letters. But let me 
 now tell you, that Sir Charles is fo 
 pleafed with your filial piety, that he is 
 determined to ufe all his intereft to ob- 
 tain your father a finecure place in Hol- 
 land, 
 
LETTER XXXIX. 229 
 
 land, that you may be enabled to marry 
 fooner than you expected. I am certain 
 he will do fomething for you ; you will 
 then have various other duties to fulfil. 
 What a plea fu re it will be to us to fee you 
 happy and refpectable, when we again 
 vifit my dear native country ! But I 
 have fomething to tell you of the amia- 
 ble Emilia. A young gentlewoman in 
 diftrefs was lately in her fervice, whole 
 mother has been long afflicted with a 
 lingering diforder. Emilia, the noble 
 Emilia, has prevailed on her mother to 
 let her wait on herfelf, and give the 
 poor widow, by way of an annuity, the 
 wages me mud have given her daugh- 
 ter, had Ihe remained with her as a 
 fervant. 
 
 Farewell, my dear Sir, prefent my 
 refpeds to your worthy father, and af- 
 fure all my Dutch friends that the dis- 
 tance which Separates me from them 
 and my country, will never make me 
 
 forget 
 
230 YOUNG GRANDISON* 
 
 forget them. Sir Charles has fent 
 Harry's brother to the farm at Grandi- 
 fon-Hall. He has behaved fo well fince 
 his arrival in England, that v/e have 
 fome reafon to look upon him as a fin- 
 cere penitent. 
 
 WILLIAM 
 
 •s u P- 
 
[ 2 3 I ] 
 
 SUPPLEMENT. 
 
 Charles Grandifon ftill continues to 
 impr >ve his underftanding, and pradtifes 
 thofe virtues which fo eminently diftin- 
 guiuhed him and his father; and in the 
 courfe of time he had the pleafure of 
 calling his friend William brother. 
 
 May theie examples excite an emula- 
 tion in the minds of my young readers. 
 May they read with attention the pre- 
 cepts thefe volumes contain, always re- 
 membering that our temporal as well as 
 eternal welfare is only to be fecured by 
 a conftant attention to our duty; and 
 that he who loves God will alfo love his 
 brother. 
 
 THE END, 
 
Speedily will be publi 
 
 1. A Compendium of the History of the 
 XVorld, from the Creation to the prefent Time, 
 for the Usn of Schools. Tranflated from the 
 German of AT. Schroeck. 
 
 2. An Elementary Book of Morality. 
 For the Use of Children*. Tranflated from the 
 German of the Rev. C. G. Salzmann. 
 
 3. Elements of Knowledge. For the Use 
 of Tutors, or Parents, and Young People. 
 Illuffrated with a great Number of Plates. 
 Tranflated from the German of M. Basedow. 
 
K9 
 
 mm 
 
 N