LETTER XXII.CharlestoEmilia.
Drive away your fears with respect to a sea voyage, my dear sister, for mine has been a very speedy one, though we were overtaken in our passage by a dreadful storm. You know on shore I can talk very philosophically of a storm as highly necessary to purify the air; but on the sea, where the view is almost boundless, and one seems particularly exposed to its fury, I felt myself struck with a solemn kind of dread: it was as if the clouds were pouring with accumulated fury, from the four quarters of the heavens, to burst over our heads. Never did I observe the lightning with so much attention as in that wide extensive prospect. It really was a fearful, but at the same time a beautiful sight;I trembled while I gazed, I do not pretend to deny it; and the distress of some of my fellow-travellers almost infected me with fears that my reason condemned, until I began to think it was a kind of mistrust of the goodness of heaven, which I had so often experienced, when I gave myself up to unreasonable fears. I soon, then, grew more composed, but I was moved with indignation when I heard the foolish jests of two gay young fellows after the storm was over; for it appeared to me almost impious to mock at so awful an appearance, in which God made his almighty power very manifest.
When the waves began to subside, I viewed with reverence the wonders of the deep; and asked myself from whence came this lightning and rattling thunder? What causes the clouds, which consist of water, to produce such a tremendous clatter? You know that philosophershave discovered that thunder is only occasioned by the compression of the clouds, and that the lightning is the effect of this concussion. But let us change the subject.
There were amongst the passengers a respectable 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 conversation that he was a Dutchman. He had laid up for himself but a slender stock of provision: my heart suggested that he must have been unfortunate; and I perceived him several times lost in thought. I endeavoured, without intruding on his sorrows, to engage him in conversation, as he spoke English very well for a foreigner. What he said was so sensible and interesting, that he prejudiced me in favour of the people I was going to visit; in short, none of the passengers pleased me sowell as he did; perhaps, because I thought him unhappy; I could think of no one else. I at last drew him into conversation: we talked together during the storm; and I offered some of my provisions to the other passengers, that I might, without seeming to have observed his scanty stock, press him to partake of mine. He then enquired if my parents were living, and, wiping a tear from his eye, he softly said, Happy are they to have such a son! I read the thoughts of his heart, Emilia; I guessed the source of his uneasiness. And you, Sir, replied I, perhaps you have children? Alas! answered he, yes, I have children—I have a son, but he has not a heart like yours; I left him in London: heaven bless him! may he never feel the pangs he has made me endure. I wished to have said something more, but I was afraid he might think my curiosity impertinent, as I was soyoung; yet I sincerely felt for him. This circumstance threw a damp over my spirits—I cannot bear the idea of those children who are ungrateful to good parents, whom, next to God, they ought to honour. I desired Robert to enquire who he was, but the captain knew nothing more, than that he was an inhabitant of Amsterdam, and in distress, for he had not money sufficient to pay his passage, and offered to leave his small bundle of linen on board, as a security for the payment, while he went on shore to borrow it. No, thought I, that must not be; but how shall I manage the matter? I was in a dreadful dilemma—it would have been almost an affront, if I had offered to make a person of his appearance a present. I went down into the cabin without having taken any resolution. At last I determined, and folded ten guineas in a piece of paper, sealed it, and wrote hisname on it, which I had heard accidentally. I then spoke to the captain, who appeared to be a humane man, and requested him to deliver that paper to the gentleman after I had gone on shore, but not to say who gave it to him. The captain seemed pleased, and added, that he carried him over to England some time ago, when he was in a better plight, but that he feared his wild son had distressed him in more ways than one.
Robert saw afterwards the captain give the gentleman the money, whilst I hastened forward, lest he should suspect me. Do not mention this circumstance to any one, my dear sister; my father, you know, gave me above fifty guineas to spend in this tour, and I could well spare this sum.
Sleep sound, my dear sister, and in the morning I will return to my letter, and give you some account of my meeting with my friend.
IN CONTINUATION.
IN CONTINUATION.
IN CONTINUATION.
It was evening when we arrived at my friend’s native place; they did not expect us that day. The servant who opened the door, told me her young master was at home alone; she conducted me into a small apartment, and was going to call him down. You know, Emilia, that I love a trick in which there is no mischief; I then desired she 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 songs we had often sung together when he was in England. I immediately began to accompany him with my voice: his violin was instantly silent, and he listened a moment to my prolonged note, then he darted out of the room, and soon discovered me behind the door. After we had embracedeach other, he overwhelmed me with questions, not forgetting how Emilia looked, how she sung, &c. &c. He wished me to have some refreshment; but you know I never eat any thing between meals.
We chatted delightfully together, expecting Mrs. D— home every moment; mean while I cast my eyes round the room: the walls were hung with his own drawings; neatness and order were conspicuous in every thing. This little solitary apartment, said he, must seem to you very homely after Grandison Hall? It is just that neat simplicity which suits my taste, answered I; it is all adorned with your works; you look cheerful, and are sincere, what more is wanted to give dignity to the place? How much more honour do these drawings do you, which are a proof of your diligence and skill, than the most excellent pictures, which are purchasedfor show, by those who do not even know their value. On his table stood a cabinet which looked so beautiful that I was curious to examine it, but how surprised was I, when he told me it was only pasteboard, which he had made himself, and ornamented with landscapes and wreaths of flowers. He told me he intended it for a young lady whom he highly esteemed. Will you listen, Emilia, while I whisper in your ear who I think that lady is—your noble self. These, said William, are my employments. I draw, read, and play on my violin; then I have my mathematical instruments and my box of tools; I declare the day is not long enough for all I have to do. And it is very happy for me that I can amuse myself, as my mother’s circumstances are so confined, I could not keep company with my father’s relations and friends, without leading her into expensesthat she could not well bear. And believe me, Charles, added he, I never will condescend to beintimatein a family where I am considered in the light of an inferior: of course I will never receive any favours in the style of an humble companion. What noble principles, Emilia! how glad I am to have such a friend!
Mrs. D— returned soon after with her daughter Annette. My friend introduced me to his mother, saying, behold the friend whom I love next to yourself. William had reason to praise his mother, for there is a sweetness in her manners that charmed me more than I can describe, and a look of sorrow that makes her very interesting. Annette is a pretty lively girl, but her gaiety does not render her remiss in her duty, for she watches her mother’s looks, anxious to anticipate her wishes. She immediatelyenquired about you, and expressed a great desire to be acquainted with you.
We are going to take a walk with Mrs. D—, so I must finish my long letter: I have written by the same post to both my father, mother, and Dr. Bartlett. Across the dreadful ocean, which you fear so much; I send you my good wishes. God bless you!
CHARLES.
CHARLES.
CHARLES.
CHARLES.