Surely any thing
like happiness is madness! Shall probationers of an hour presume to
pluck the fruit of immortality, before they have conquered death? it is
guarded, when the great day, to which I allude, arrives, the way will
again be opened. Ye dear delusions, gay deceits, farewel! and yet I
cannot banish ye for ever; still does my panting soul push forward, and
live in futurity, in the deep shades o'er which darkness hangs.--I try
to pierce the gloom, and find a resting-place, where my thirst of
knowledge will be gratified, and my ardent affections find an object to
fix them. Every thing material must change; happiness and this
fluctating principle is not compatible. Eternity, immateriality, and
happiness,--what are ye? How shall I grasp the mighty and fleeting
conceptions ye create?"
After writing, serenely she delivered her soul into the hands of the
Father of Spirits; and slept in peace.
CHAP. XXI.
Mary rose early, refreshed by the seasonable rest, and went to visit the
poor woman, whom she found quite recovered: and, on enquiry, heard that
she had lately buried her husband, a common sailor; and that her only
surviving child had been washed over-board the day before.
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