Chapter 5

There is something in the season of Spring which peculiarly excites the
feelings of devotion. The dreariness of winter has passed, and with it,
the deadened affections of our nature. New life, new vigor, arises within
us, as we walk abroad and feel the genial gales of April breathe upon us;
and our hopes, our wishes, awaken with the revival of the vegetable world.
It is then that the heart, which has been impressed with the goodness of
the Creator, feels that goodness brought, as it were, into very contact
with the senses. The eye loves to wander over the bountiful provisions
nature is throwing forth in every direction for our comfort, and fixes its
gaze on the clouds, which, having lost the chilling thinness of winter,
roll in rich volumes, amidst the clear and softened fields of azure so
peculiar to the season, leading the mind insensibly, to dwell on the
things of another and a better world. It was on such a day, that the
inhabitants of B---- thronged toward the village church, for the double
purpose of pouring out their thanksgivings, and of hearing the first
efforts of their rector's son in the duties of his sacred calling.

Amongst the crowd whom curiosity or a better feeling had drawn forth, were
to be seen the flaring equipage of the Jarvises, and the handsome
carriages of Sir Edward Moseley and his sister. All the members of the
latter family felt a lively anxiety for the success of the young divine.
But knowing, as they well did, the strength of his native talents, the
excellence of his education, and the fervor of his piety, it was an
anxiety that partook more of hope than of fear. There was one heart,
however, amongst them, that palpitated with an emotion that hardly
admitted of control, as they approached the sacred edifice, for it had
identified itself completely with the welfare of the rector's son. There
never was a softer, truer heart, than that which now almost audibly beat
within the bosom of Clara Moseley; and she had given it to the young
divine with all its purity and truth.

The entrance of a congregation into the sanctuary will at all times
furnish, to an attentive observer, food for much useful speculation, if it
be chastened with a proper charity for the weaknesses of others; and most
people are ignorant of the insight they are giving into their characters
and dispositions, by such an apparently trivial circumstance as their
weekly approach to the tabernacles of the Lord. Christianity, while it
chastens and amends the heart, leaves the natural powers unaltered; and it
cannot be doubted that its operation is, or ought to be, proportionate to
the abilities and opportunities of the subject of its holy
impression--"Unto whomsoever much is given, much will be required." While