"I know," said he, "that it is usual with persons at my
time of life to have these hopes, which your kindness suggests; but
I would not wish to be deceived. To meet death as becomes a man, is
a privilege bestowed on few.--I would endeavour to make it mine;--
nor do I think that I can ever be better prepared for it than now: -
-It is that chiefly which determines the fitness of its approach."
"Those sentiments," answered Miss Walton, "are just; but your good
sense, Mr. Harley, will own, that life has its proper value.--As the
province of virtue, life is ennobled; as such, it is to be desired.-
-To virtue has the Supreme Director of all things assigned rewards
enough even here to fix its attachment."
The subject began to overpower her.--Harley lifted his eyes from the
ground--"There are," said he, in a very low voice, "there are
attachments, Miss Walton"--His glance met hers.--They both betrayed
a confusion, and were both instantly withdrawn.--He paused some
moments--"I am such a state as calls for sincerity, let that also
excuse it--It is perhaps the last time we shall ever meet. I feel
something particularly solemn in the acknowledgment, yet my heart
swells to make it, awed as it is by a sense of my presumption, by a
sense of your perfections"--He paused again--"Let it not offend you,
to know their power over one so unworthy--It will, I believe, soon
cease to beat, even with that feeling which it shall lose the
latest.
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