his face, and a cane under his arm.

As they rose from their knees,--I gave them all the consolation I
thought at that moment they were capable of sustaining;--and assur'd
them no vigilance would be wanting to come at particulars.--I was ask'd,
if there was any letter from Mr. Molesworth?--When answer'd in the
affirmative,--the next question was, if it related to what I had just
disclos'd?--I equivocated in my reply, and withdrew to write the few
unconnected lines sent by John.

After he was dispatch'd, I return'd immediately to the
hopeing,--fearing family.--Mr. Watson was sitting amidst them:--he
seem'd like a Being of purity presiding over hearts going to be rewarded
for resignation to the Divine will.

He heard me as I enter'd: he rose from his seat as I came near him, and
pressing one of my hands between both his, whisper'd, I have seen Mr.
Morgan.--Then raising his voice, You are the messenger of joy, Mr.
Risby;--complete the happiness you have begun:--all present, pointing
round, are prepar'd to receive it.

Here drops my pen.--I must not attempt this scene:--a Shakespeare would
have wrote it in tears.

How infinite,--how dazzling the beauty of holiness!--Affliction seems to
have threaten'd this amiable family, only to encrease their
love,--their reverence,--their admiration of Divine
Omnipotence.--Blessings may appear, as a certain great man remarks,
under the shape of pain, losses, and disappointments;--but let us have
patience, and we shall see them in their own proper figures.

If rewards even in this world attend the _virtuous_, who would be
_depraved?_--Could the loose, the abandon'd, look in on this happy
mansion, how would their sensual appetites be pall'd!--How would they
hate,--how detest the vanity,--the folly that leads to vice!--If
pleasure is their pursuit, here they might see it speaking at _mouth_
and _eyes_:--_pleasures_ that fleet not away;--_pleasures_ that are
carried beyond the grave.

What a family is this to take a wife from!--Lord Darcey's happiness is
insur'd:--in my conscience, there will not be such another couple in
England.

Preparations are making to welcome the lovely successor of this ancient
house;--preparations to rejoice those whose satisfactions are
scanty,--to clothe the naked,--to feed the hungry,--to let the stately
roof echo with songs and mirth from a croud of chearful, honest, old
tenants.

I often hear Mrs. Jenkings crying out in extasy,--My angel!--my sweet