Young Grandison, volume 1 (of 2): A series of letters from young persons to their friendsCambon, Madame de (Maria Geertruida van de Werken)
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Young Grandison, volume 1 (of 2): A series of letters from young persons to their friends
Cambon, Madame de (Maria Geertruida van de Werken)
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature; Epistolary fiction
How much I was affected yesterday afternoon. I went, after I had done
writing, to Sir Charles’s chamber, I opened the door softly, but instead
of Charles, saw Lady Grandison and Emilia, both kneeling at the
bed-side; I stole away unperceived to seek for Charles, I could not find
him in any of the chambers, no one knew where he was. Oh! said I to
myself, where is my dear Charles? I ran into the garden, and there I
found him in the summer-house; he was kneeling down, his hands and eyes
were lifted up to heaven, and big tears rolled down his cheeks; I heard
him pray with earnestness, but could only distinguish a few words.
_Preserve, oh! my God, my dear, my affectionate father—grant him longer
life, Thou knowest best, Thou art infinitely merciful, oh! pardon me, I
wish to die to save him, to save my mother from the anguish she must
endure if deprived of him._
He seemed in an agony, and at length arose with more apparent firmness;
I could no longer be silent, I caught his hand, God will preserve your
father, I exclaimed; I hope so, answered he, but let us walk round the
garden, that my mother may not see that I have been crying, it would add
to her sorrows. We walked backwards and forwards, when Charles resumed
the discourse; You heard me pray then?
WILLIAM.
No, I only heard a few incoherent words, and that you wished to die, to
save your father.
CHARLES.
Of how much more consequence is his life than mine? I scarcely know how
I should live without him. My wish was a selfish one, for perfect
happiness is not to be found on earth; I have heard him often say, the
happiest have their troubles, and the best their failings, which disturb
their earthly peace.
WILLIAM.
What a comfort would these sensible reflections afford, should you lose
your father?
CHARLES.
I hope they would; though it now appears to me, that nothing could
afford me comfort, should I be deprived of the best of fathers. Come,
let us go in; I would not lose the few moments that still afford me an
opportunity of shewing my affection and alleviating his sufferings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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