LETTER XXVI.WilliamtoEmilia.

Your brother mentioned, in his last letter, that we were going to take a walk; the weather was very fine when we set out, but the sky looking a little cloudy, I proposed to your brother to go in the schuit. How, said he, are you afraid of a little rain, we have no clothes on that can be spoiled? Let us not guard against every trifling inconvenience: and so we went on. When we reached the village, which was rather a long walk, we went into a coffee-house to drink tea to refresh ourselves.

While your brother was reading the newspaper I walked in the garden, and saw, in a disorderly company, a young man, a distant relation of my mother’s, whose father the other day had dined in companywith your brother. We both of us then observed his melancholy countenance, and my mother hinted to us, that she feared his son’s disobedience was breaking his father’s heart. I was alarmed at seeing him in such company, and enquired of the landlord how long he had been there. Four days, answered he, and during that time, he has spent fifty five guilders with the companions you see. He has given me a bill for the money, signed by Mr. H—— at the Hague, which I am to receive next Monday. This speech made me very uneasy, 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 suspect that the bill might be forged.

I ran to your brother and acquainted him with the circumstance. It may fairly be inferred, answered he, that as he has taken a false name, he may also havebeen guilty of forgery. Such a shameful action will bring the old man to his grave; but we must try to prevent it, let us send for the landlord; and he rang bell. He soon entered, and your brother thus addressed him: “I hear, Sir, you have a bill drawn on Mr. H——, payable next Monday; I will give you the money for it, as I have some accounts to settle with that gentleman, but you must 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 received the money; he then left the room, and we had the following conversation.

CHARLES.

You think that this bill may be forged, and so do I; and if it should really prove that we are right in ourconjectures, what would be the lot of young Van Landbergen, a shameful flight, or scandalous punishment; either of which would grievously have afflicted his innocent parent. We must one day give an account of what heaven has intrusted to us, and what would my account be, if I could only say, I had the means in my hands to save a good man from a misfortune which might have fatal consequences, and I chose rather to spend my money in useless diversions and selfish pleasures. If the bill is good, I shall be no loser; if not, it will be a source of perpetual satisfaction to think that I delivered a good father from the shame his ungrateful son would have entailed on him.

WILLIAM.

What an example! There are many, I know, that may possibly, this very evening, lose above fifty guilders at billiardsor some other game, who yet would call your act of benevolence madness.

CHARLES.

That is their business, my friend.

WILLIAM.

But, if you present the bill to Mr. H——, will not the forgery be made equally public?

CHARLES.

That is not my design: it is to young Landbergen himself that we must present it. You have often wished me to be acquainted with him; now this bill, if it is not a good one, will give me an opportunity of introducing myself to him in the light of a friend.

We requested the landlord to bring him into our private room, and he came accordingly, not knowing who sent for him. As soon as he saw me, he seemed disconcerted, which we did not noticeand your brother civilly asked him to sit down, and the following conversation ensued.

CHARLES.

It gives me particular pleasure to meet with the son of worthy Mr. Van Landbergen, with whom I dined last week at Mrs. D——’s house; and you will, I hope, pardon me, if I embrace this opportunity of commencing an acquaintance with his son.

Young Landbergen bowed in great confusion, with his eyes cast down, twisting his hat round upon his hand.

Charles seemed not to observe his confusion, pulled the bell to order a bottle of wine, and the conversation continued.

CHARLES.

Your father is a worthy sensible man, Sir. What a happiness it is to have such a father.

LANDBERGEN.

A great happiness, 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 pleasure, as we intend calling on your father.

LANDBERGEN.

I am waiting here for a friend, so that it will be late before I can go—otherwise——

WILLIAM.

Then we shall be deprived of the pleasure of your company, for we promised to be home early, and our design was to call and inform my mother that we intend to sup with your father.

CHARLES.

Can you inform me, Sir, where Mr. H—— lives; I have a small bill drawn on him by a Mr. S——: I received it from the landlord.

Landbergen looked pale at this question, and without seeming to hear him, started up and looked out of the window.

LANDBERGEN.

I fear we shall have heavy rain this evening.

CHARLES.

I do not think so, the sky looks very clear.

He then took the bill out of his pocket-book, casting a look at the same time full of humanity at Landbergen. The culprit’s confusion was now very great, the bill he instantly knew, and every limb shook at the sight. Yourbrother offered him a glass of wine, but he let it fall, and was going hastily 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 must not leave us, the sight of this bill seems to have raised a strange perturbation in your mind. Open your heart to me, I respect your father, and wish to esteem you.

LANDBERGEN.

I can say 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 say.

LANDBERGEN.

That signature—but I beg you will permit me to go.

CHARLES.

Shall we tear off the signature? Yes I will on condition you return with me to your father.

LANDBERGEN.

What generosity! No, Sir, preserve the signature, though not with the hope of payment. I am guilty. I must fly from my country—comfort my father.

CHARLES.

You fly—you who ask me to comfort your father. No, that single speech makes me your friend. Come with me to your father, and I shall deem myself happy in having met with you.

LANDBERGEN.

How shall I hide my shame from you?

CHARLES.

Why should you attempt to hide it? it is the surest sign of goodness to beashamed of our errors. You consent, then; you will go with us.

LANDBERGEN.

Yes—you overcome me. I am under the greatest obligations to you; but what shall I say to my father?

CHARLES.

Your father is good—he loves you.

LANDBERGEN.

You do not know all, Sir: it is now four days since I left home, and—— No, I cannot, I dare not say more.

CHARLES.

Be not afraid to open your whole heart to me; repentance expiates every fault; your earthly as well as your heavenly father will forgive you.

LANDBERGEN.

You will despise me, Sir.

CHARLES.

No; any one who goes astray, and returns again to virtue, merits our respect.

LANDBERGEN.

Will you retain any regard for me, when I tell you, that on leaving my father I stole a small sum he had saved, in order to try my fortune at cards; I had already lost a great deal of money with the same people, whom I now wished to play with again.

CHARLES.

Yes, certainly; you weep; those tears do you honour; your heart is not bad, but it has been too weak to resist the allurements of vice in bad company.

LANDBERGEN.

Yes, I have acted a base part, and by neglecting my duty, have lost an eligible employment. And yet I never deliberately did wrong. I have always intended to reform for I hated myself when I thought a moment; and shunned my father’s eyes as if I dreaded theywould dart death on me. I frequently ran out, to avoid thought, and forget remorse, at the gaming-table. Nay, even when I have only gone to take a walk, and determined not to spend any money, or lose my time, the sight of one of my companions, a single word, banished all my good resolutions, and I followed him wherever he chose to lead me.

CHARLES.

The only means to conquer this weakness, is resolutely to determine to employ yourself, and never to allow your imagination to dwell on scenes which are likely to inflame it. You were formerly fond of reading, I hear, and have made some progress in music; return to those rational employments; visit us when you have finished your daily task; we have got some newmusic. I have sometimes heard my tutor advise a young man, who, like yourself, had a good heart, to frequent the company of modest women; there are many young ladies at the Hague who will be glad of your company if you act with propriety: and their society will make you feel disgust when you mix with young people who have lost the charm of innocence.

LANDBERGEN.

But can this ever wash out the stain of a false signature?

CHARLES.

Undoubtedly it may; forget this signature, as I shall.

(Saying so, he tore the note.)

See there the small offering which I make to your repentance and return to virtue. Your father knows nothing of this: let us conceal it from him.

Landbergen embraced his young benefactor. We both observed that he was very much moved: he grasped Charles’s hand, and could only say, I owe my preservation, my peace, to you.

Had you seen, at this moment, your brother, Miss Emilia, you would have been delighted. The most heart-felt satisfaction seemed painted on his countenance. We then left the house, and during our walk home, we endeavoured in vain to raise Landbergen’s spirits; he appeared oppressed by a sense of his fault.

We found the old gentleman his father at home: he received us with the highest satisfaction, and was struck with astonishment to see his son enter with us. He viewed him with tears in his eyes, exclaiming, What my son!—Your brother caught hold of eachof their hands, and joining them together, whispered the father, “Forgive your son, he is truly penitent.” The son could not speak, he sighed, and his tears fell on his father’s hand. The father also was speechless; but soon recollecting himself, he said, how shall I interpret this deep concern! heaven grant it may be sincere! It is sincere, exclaimed the son, eagerly; see the gentleman to whom I am indebted for all this. He has saved me from shame, and raised me from meanness, by his noble generosity. I earnestly wish to distinguish myself by acting properly: speak, Mr. Grandison, my father may know all.—Your father does know all, since he knows you repent. We are both young, we have still a character to obtain in the world; let us struggle for a good one. Let all disagreeable reflections be now laid aside. You shall hear,said he, taking down young Landbergen’s violin, how well I can play a Dutch tune.

Farewell; believe me respectfully yours.

WILLIAM.

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