Page:Records of the Life of the Rev. John Murray.djvu/148

138 receiving, benefits,—nobly independent,—possessing all, which the treacherous world could now bestow. Thus I went on,—pleased, and pleasing. I had leisure for converse with myself, with my bible, and my God. The letters of my Eliza were a source of mournfully pensive consolation,—they were multiplied,—and I had carefully preserved them. Many a time have I shed over them the private, the midnight tear; and reading them thus late, when I have fallen into a sweet slumber, I have met the lovely author in my dreams, and our meeting has been replete with consolation, with such high intercourse, as can only be realized in heaven. Our Sundays were indeed blessed holy-days; people began to throng from all quarters on horseback; some from the distance of twenty miles. I was at first pleased with this, so was my patron; but multiplied invitations to visit other places, saddened our spirits. I dreaded the thought of departing from home, and, in the fulness of my heart, I determined I would never accede to any request, which should bear me from a seclusion, so completely commensurate with my wishes. Alas! alas! how little do we know of ourselves, or our destination. Solicitations, earnest solicitations, poured in from the Jersies, from Philadelphia, and from New-York; and it became impossible to withstand their repeated and imposing energy.

The first visit I made, was to a village about eight miles from my late-found home. My patron accompanied me, and we were joyfully received, by a serious and respectable family, who embraced, with devout hearts, the truth, as it is in Jesus; and who were consequently saved from all those torturing fears, that had previously harrowed up their spirits, in the dread expectation of those everlasting burnings, which they believed awaited themselves, and their offspring. In this village, I one morning entered a house, and beheld a fond mother weeping over an infant, who lay sweetly sleeping in her arms. Sympathy for the sorrowing mother moistened my eye; and, supposing that her tears flowed from some domestic distress, or pecuniary embarrassment, I endeavoured to console her, by observing, that the world was very wide, and that God was an all-sufficient Father. "Alas! sir," she replied, "I never, in the whole course of my life, experienced a moment's anxiety from the dread of my children, or myself, suffering the want either of food, or raiment. No, sir, my fears are, that they will be sufferers, through the wasteless ages of eternity, in that state of torment, from whence there is no reprieve; and that they will continually execrate their parents, as the wretched instruments of bringing them into being. I have eight children, sir; and can I be so arrogant, as to