I might seem to hold communion with that soul in which I felt so deeply interested, and imbibe its purest thoughts and holiest aspirations, with no alloy to such felicity, except the secret reproaches of my conscience which would too often whisper that I was deceiving my own self, and mocking God with the service of a heart more bent upon the creature than the creator.
Sometimes, such thoughts would give me trouble enough; but sometimes, I could quiet them with thinking,
It is not the man, it is his goodness that I love.
"Whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are honest and of good report, think on these things."
We do well to worship God in his works; and I know none of them in which so many of his attributes—so much of his own spirit shines, as this his faithful servant, whom to know and not to appreciate, were obtuse insensibility in me, who have so little else to occupy my heart.
Almost immediately after the conclusion of the service, Miss Murray left the church. We had to stand in the porch; for it was raining,
