On the soul while such visions of splendour are burning,
It sighs for that peace the world cannot bestow;
Till the shadows of night, on the spirit returning,
Awake it again to its portion of woe.
There was something in these lines that greatly softened the heart of George Hope; and, turning to Josiah, he said with a deep sigh:—
“Josiah, does God always take vengeance on our crimes?”
“Not if we sincerely repent of them, and faithfully promise to sin no more;” returned Shirley; “and, should we again fall into temptation, God knows the weakness of our nature, and is ever more willing to forgive than we to implore his mercy.”
“I have deeply repented of my past errors,” said George; “and yet I feel as if my transgressions were not pardoned.”
“You must banish such thoughts as these, my dear George,” returned Henry, “or you will never be happy. I have heard my Father say, that if we sincerely repent of any crime we have committed, we must not doubt the mercy of our God. Surely you have every reason to be more cheerful than you are. Do but contrast your present character with your idle pursuits last year; and I am sure you will rejoice at the change.”
George shuddered, while Henry continued—
“You were universally and justly despised by the whole village; and I will frankly own, I felt for you the most hearty contempt. Now, every one mentions you with interest and commendation; and you have gained the unfeigned love of Josiah and myself. Such a change in your favour should raise, not depress your spirits.”
“I am perfectly sensible of your goodness, my kind friends,” returned George, “and feel that gratitude towards you which no words can express. To-morrow I may feel in better spirits; but I cannot conquer the depression that clouds my mind to-night. But I see Josiah is going to read something else to us.”
“It is a paraphrase on the twenty-ninth psalm,” said Josiah; “and, though the author has failed in conveying the awful grandeur of the original, I think the verses will please my friends:—