Page:Records of the Life of the Rev. John Murray.djvu/131

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LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY.
121

pleasure I had derived from listening to the testimony of truth, these all rushed upon my recollection, with subduing power; I prostrated myself upon the ground, with streaming eyes exclaiming: Oh, thou dear parent earth, thou much loved native soil, why not open and give me a quiet resting place in thy bosom. Oh! thou dear, departed friend of my soul, hast thou no power to loose these chains, that bind me to this state of being. Is there no eye to pity, no hand to help a wretched outcast? can I not be indulged with death? But death comes not at call. In this situation I continued, bedewing the earth with my tears, until it pleased the kind God to speak peace to my tortured heart, and I seemed to hear a voice calling unto me, Be of good cheer, your God is with you, He will never leave you, nor forsake you; He is in the wide waste, as in the full city. Be not afraid, when thou passest through the waters; I will be with thee, fear no evil; the friend of sinners will be with thee, and make thy way plain before thee; He will cause the desert to blossom, as the rose. The young lions cry, and thy heavenly Father feedeth them. Thou art nearer and dearer to thy heavenly Father, than all the inhabitants of the deep, than all the tenants of the forests. Thus did the spirit of grace and consolation comfort my afflicted heart, so that, after bidding an affectionate adieu to the scenes of the morning and meridian of my days; after taking what I believed an eternal leave of my native soil, of my friends, and relatives; after dropping many tears to the memory of each; and, last of all, to the ashes of my dearer self; with an aching head, a pained heart, and eyes swelled by weeping, on Saturday evening, July twenty-first, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy, I hastened on board the brig "Hand in Hand;" and, upon the ensuing morning, as we passed round Beachy Head, I beheld the white cliffs of Albion. No language can describe my sensations, as those white cliffs receded from my view, as I took a last look of England! I retired to my cabin, covered my face, and wept until I was completely exhausted. But God was pleased to lift up the light of his countenance upon me; my voyage passed more pleasantly, than I had calculated, and I was the happy instrument of contributing to the comfort of many on board. I was not sick upon the passage, I became more than reconciled to my circumstances, and I almost dreaded the thought of reaching our destined port.

I did not anticipate my fate upon my arrival; I had determined upon nothing, and yet I was not distressed; a perfect indifference pervaded my soul. I had in my trunks many articles of clothing,