Page:Records of the Life of the Rev. John Murray.djvu/61

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LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY.
51

we your admiring audience, until we are summoned to supper; then, after you have closed our serene day by an appropriate, and affecting address to the God who created, and who has hitherto preserved us, we retire to an early pillow, soothed, and gratified, our sleep cannot but be refreshing. Why, what a paradise would our abode become. But, my child, when you pass every evening abroad, you know not what a melancholy group you render us. We are dumb, our countenances are sad; our silence is sometimes broken by Mr. Little, who questions in anger, "Where is our young gentleman to-night? any society but ours!" Then follows a heavy sigh: "Well, let us go to bed, it will be late before he returns; but this will never do." We dare not open our lips, but my girls mingle their tears with mine. Greatly moved by these observations, I sincerely repented of my past conduct; and I determined I would, in all things, conform myself to the wishes of my parental friends. I beheld the family picture presented before me, by the dear lady; I beheld it with rapture, and I decisively said: yes, indeed, my future evenings shall all be devoted to a family so charming, and thus will my days be passed in peace. I promised the dear lady, solemnly I promised, that I would be all she wished; and I communicated to her bosom inexpressible delight. I left her in tears, but they were tears of rapture: I retired to my chamber; I threw myself upon my knees, I supplicated pardon of my heavenly Father, and, with a devout heart, I implored his supporting aid. A petition to my Creator always possessed the potent power of refreshing my soul; I was greatly refreshed, and I looked forward with renewed complacency. In a few hours, I was summoned to dinner; at the door of the dining-room, I was met by Mr. Little, no cloud rested upon his countenance; I entered the dining-room, where were seated my charming, my faithful friends; the mother, and her daughters; their countenances were animated, but their eyes bore testimony to their previous agitation; our interview, and hour of dining, were highly gratifying. It is true, many words were not uttered, but there is, in the expressive eye, and other intelligent features of a fine countenance, a fascination which dwelleth not in words. Soon after dinner my little friend, the youngest daughter of my patron, visited me in my chamber, and bestowed upon me many caresses.

Halcyon days and months now revolved; I fondly fancied I had surmounted every difficulty, and I anticipated a succession of delightful enjoyments; yet again I experienced the satiety, consequent upon one