f so lifted above all earthly feelings, that even were he
to be deprived as Mr. Morton of every natural relation, he could in time
reconcile himself to the will of his Maker, and in the discharge of
ministerial duties be happy. He had fancied his heart was full of the
love of God alone, blessed in that, however changed his earthly lot.
Suddenly he was awakened from his illusion: now in the hour of
separation he knew an earthly idol; he discovered that he was not so
completely the servant of his Maker as he had hoped, and sometimes
believed. But in the doubts and fears which shadowed his exalted mind,
he sought the footstool of his God. His cry for assistance was not
unheeded. Peace and comfort rested on his heart. A cloud was lifted
from his eyes, and for the knowledge of his virtuous love he blessed his
God; feeling thus supported he could guide and control himself according
to the dictates of piety. He knew well the character of Mary; he felt
assured that, if in after years he were permitted to make her his own,
she would indeed become his helpmate in all things, more particularly in
those which related to his God and to his holy duties among men. He
thought on the sympathy that existed between them--he remembered the
lighting up of that soft, dark eye, the flushing cheek, the smile of
pleasure that ever welcomed him, and fondly his heart whispered that he
need not doubt her love. Three years, or nearly four must elapse ere he
could feel at liberty to marry; not till he beheld himself a minister of
God. Yet interminable as to his imagination the intervening years
appeared, still there was no trembling in his trusting heart. If his
Father on high ordained them for each other, it mattered not how long
the time that must elapse, and if for some wise purpose his wishes were
delayed, he recognised the hand of God, and saw "that it was good."
Yet Herbert could not resist the impulse to behold Mary once more ere
she quitted England to explain to her his feelings; to understand each
other. He knew the day his father intended going to Dover, and the
evening previous, much to the astonishment of his family, made his
appearance amongst them. All expressed pleasure at his intention but
one, and that one understood not why; but when she heard the cause of
his unexpected visit, a sudden and indefinable pang shot through her
young heart, dimming at once the joy with which the sight of him had
filled it. She knew not, guessed not why
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