Transcriber’s Note:
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
YOUNG GRANDISON.
A SERIES OF
LETTERS
FROM
YOUNG PERSONS
TO THEIR
FRIENDS.
ADVERTISEMENT.
This work is translated from a more voluminousone in Dutch, written by Madamede Cambon, professedly for the instruction ofyoung people.
The author has judiciously interspersed littleintroductory hints relative to natural philosophy;which, while they tend to awakencuriosity, lead to reflections calculated to expandthe heart.
Indeed any instruction which has not evidentlythis tendency, will be found not onlyuseless but pernicious; if it be allowed that asmattering of knowledge can never compensatefor narrowing the heart by introducingvanity. And as it is much easier to dissipateignorance than root out that degree of selfishness,which an endeavour to supplant othersgenerally inspires, emulation should very cautiouslybe excited. On this account deviations,from the original were unavoidable;besides the editor apprehended that affectationrather than virtue may be produced byendeavouring, through a mistaken zeal, tobring the mind forward prematurely, as inall probability it will seldom afterwards reachthat degree of strength which it might haveacquired by gradual improvement. In short,the whole has been abridged, and materialalterations made, to render it more extensivelyuseful; some sentiments and incidentsare thrown out, and others added, whichwere naturally suggested by the subjects: itwould be needless to point out the alterationsthat have been made; they were, in the editor’sopinion, necessary. Productions intended forthe instruction of youth, without aiming atthe graces of higher compositions, should beas free from errors as possible; but above all,no narrow prejudices should be retained tocramp the understanding, or make it submitto any other authority than that of reason.
LETTER I.
William D—— to his Mother:
You desired me to write to you,my dear mother. What a comfort itis to be able to converse with you inthis way, now I am at such a distance,and cannot see you!
I did not find the journey fatiguing;I was not sea-sick—but I was sorrowful—verysorrowful, I assure you. Youwill say that I am childish, when I tellyou, that, during the voyage, as often2as I thought of the last kiss you gave me,I could scarcely restrain my tears, ormention your name without sobbing.I hid myself in a corner of the cabin,that I might