silent--and determined
for the future, all would still be well. It was madness to indulge a
passion which could only lead to my expulsion from the parsonage, and
end in misery. Had I found it so easy to obtain a home and quiet,
that both were to be so recklessly and shamefully abandoned? Surely
it was time to dwell soberly and seriously upon the affairs of life.
I had numbered years and undergone trial sufficient to be acquainted
with true policy and the line of duty. Both bade me instantly reject
the new solicitation, and pursue, with singleness of purpose, the
occupation which fortune had mercifully vouchsafed to me. All this
was specious and most just, and sounded well to the understanding
that was not less able to look temperately and calmly upon the
argument in consequence of the previous overflow of feeling. Reason
is never so plausible and prevailing as when it takes the place of
gratified passion. Never are we so firmly resolved upon good, as in
the moment that follows instantly the doing of evil. Never is
conscience louder in her complaints than when she rises from a
temporary overthrow. I had discovered every thing to Miss Fairman. I
had fatally committed myself. There was no doubt of this; and
nothing was left for present consolation but sapient resolutions for
the future. Virtuous and fixed they looked in my silent chamber and
in the silent hour of night. Morning had yet to dawn, and they had
yet to contend with the thousand incitements which our desires are
ever setting up to battle with our better judgment. I did not write
to Mr. Fairman, but I rose from my seat much comforted, and softened
my midnight pillow with the best intentions.

Fancy might have suggested to me, on the following morning, that the
eyes of Miss Fairnan had been visited but little by sleep, and that
her face was far more pallid than usual, if her parent had not
remarked, with much anxiety, when she took her place amongst us,
that she was looking most weary and unwell. Like the sudden
emanation that crimsons all the east, the beautiful and earliest
blush of morning, came the driven blood into the maiden's cheek,
telling of discovery and shame. Nothing she said in answer, but
diligently pursued her occupation. I could perceive that the fair
hand trembled, and that the gentle bosom was disquieted. _I_ could
tell why downwards bent the head, and with what new emotions the
artless spirit had become acquainted. Instantly I saw the mischief