th is sin. All subterfuge is at an end. He is at last seeking the
only refuge of penitent sinners, I trust on right grounds. His state is
indeed perilous in the extreme; yet awful as it is, he _knows_ it. He
will not open his eyes on the eternal world in a state of delusion. But
what shall awaken poor Mr. Flam from his dream of security? His high
health, his unbroken spirits, his prosperous circumstances and various
blessings, are so many snares to him. He thinks that 'to-morrow shall be
as this day, and still more abundant.' Even the wretched situation of
his dying friend, though it awakens compassion, awakens not compunction.
Nay, it affords matter of triumph rather than of humiliation. He feeds
his vanity with comparisons from which he contrives to extract comfort.
His own offenses being of a different kind, instead of lamenting them,
he glories in being free from those which belong to an opposite cast of
character. Satisfied that he has not the vices of Tyrrel, he never once
reflects on his own unrepented sins. Even his good qualities increase
his danger. He wraps himself up in that constitutional good nature,
which, being partly founded on vanity and self-approbation, strengthens
his delusion, and hardens him against reproof."

CHAPTER XLVI.

In conversing with Mr. Stanley on my happy prospects, and my future
plans; after having referred all concerns of a pecuniary nature to be
settled between him and Sir John Belfield, I ventured to entreat that he
would crown his goodness, and my happiness, by allowing me to solicit
his daughter for an early day.

Mr. Stanley said, the term _early_ was relative; but he was afraid that
he should hardly consent to what I might consider even as a late one.
"In parting with such a child as Lucilla," added he, "some weaning time
must be allowed to the tenderest of mothers. The most promising
marriage, and surely none can promise more happiness than that to which
we are looking, is a heavy trial to fond parents. To have trained a
creature with anxious fondness, in hope of her repaying their solicitude
hereafter by the charms of her society, and then as soon as she becomes
capable of being a friend and companion, to lose her forever, is such a
trial, that I sometimes wonder at the seeming impatience of parents to
get rid of a treasure, of which they best know the value. The sadness
which attends the consummation even of our dearest hopes on these
occasions, is one striking ins