so
unreasonable as to deny, if I like and am well, to ring that solemn bell
that speaks the departure of a soul? No. Can I leave digging the tombs
of my neighbours and acquaintances which have many a time made me
shudder and think of my mortality, when I have dug up the mortal remains
of some perhaps as I well knew? No. And can I so abruptly forsake the
service of my beloved Church of which I have not failed to attend every
Sunday for these seven and a half years? No. Can I leave waiting upon
you a minister of that Being that sitteth between the Cherubim and
flieth upon the wings of the wind? No. Can I leave the place where our
most holy services nobly calls forth and says, "Those whom God have
joined together" (and being as I am a married man) "let no man put
asunder"? No. And can I leave that ordinance where you say then and
there "I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of
the Holy Ghost," and he becomes regenerate and is grafted into the body
of Christ's Church? No. And can I think of leaving off cleaning at
Easter the House of God in which I take such delight, in looking down
her aisles and beholding her sanctuaries and the table of the Lord? No.
And can I forsake taking part in the service of Thanksgiving of women
after childbirth when mine own wife has been delivered ten times? No.
And can I leave off waiting on the congregation of the Lord which you
well know, Sir, is my delight? No. And can I forsake the Table of the
Lord at which I have feasted I suppose some thirty times? No. And, dear
Sir, can I ever forsake you who have been so kind to me? No. And I well
know you will not entreat me to leave, neither to return from following
after you, for where you pray there will I pray, where you worship there
will I worship. Your Church shall be my Church, your people shall be my
people and your God my God. By the waters of Babylon am I to sit down
and weep and leave thee, O my Church! and hang my harp upon the trees
that grow therein? No. One thing have I desired of the Lord that I will
require even that I may dwell in the House of the Lord and to visit His
temple. More to be desired of me, O my Church, than gold, yea than fine
gold, sweeter to me than honey and the honeycomb.

Now, kind Sir, the very desire of my heart is still to wait upon you.
Please tell the Churchwardens all is reconciled, and if not, I will get
me away into the wilderness, and hide me in the desert, in the cleft of
the rock. B