LETTER VII.WilliamtoCharles.
Could I believe that I should ever have been so happy as to have a prospect of spending all my life with you and your beloved family! No, I was even afraid to hope for such happiness, but now I number the days till I shall see you: I have already put my books in order; every thing is waiting for you. I gave my mother your letter to read; she bestowed the warmest praises on my dear friend. He seems to have a just sense of the duty due to parents, said she; a good son always supposes that tender parents have a sufficient reason for what they do when they deprive him of any little gratification; he then submits without reluctance, or even enquiry, certain that it is for his good. A childthat thus submits will, when a man, be as resigned to the dispensations 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 conversation.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
What think you, Frederick, of this instance of willing submission?
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
It is praise worthy, but I acknowledge myself not so obedient.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
Such a chearful submission might possibly require more resolution than either you or I have; however it is possible; and as we ought to shew ourselves grateful for the kindnesses we have received, the only way we have of doing so is constantly to obey the injunctionsof our parents, and never to murmur if they even seem hard.
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
This may be true, yet these considerations would not change a desart, as Lady Grandison called her farm, into an agreeable abode.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
No, but yet I might say to myself, in such a solitary place, I hope I am beloved by my Creator, because I have done my duty; then I should be much happier than in the most magnificent palace, upbraiding myself with having done wrong, and having made God angry by disobeying my parents.
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
FREDERICK.
I think, however, your friend would have past his time very heavily at the farm.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
Those days would soon have been over, but the recollection of having done right, my mother says, is a lasting pleasure.
We then turned towards home; it was a very fine evening, and I wanted Frederick to observe the beautiful country, and wondered he could pass through such pleasing scenes with indifference. It is with you, I hope, to wander over these pleasant walks; in the mean time be happy, and think of your friend
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.
WILLIAM.