A walk or a ride in the country, with his wife and little ones, he accounted his highest relaxation:—on these occasions he gave himself up to a sweet and lively pleasure; would clasp them alternately to his breast, and with eyes overflowing with tears of delight, repeat Thomson's charming description of the joys of virtuous love—

'Where nothing strikes the eye but sights of bliss,
All various nature pressing on the heart!'
This was the first picture that struck my young imagination, for I was, in all respects, considered as the adopted child of the family.

This prosperity received little other interruption than from my uncle's frequent absences, and the pains and cares of my aunt in bringing into the world, and nursing, a family of children. Mr Melmoth's successful voyages, at rather earlier than forty years of age, enabled him to leave the sea, and to carry on an extensive mercantile employment in the metropolis.—At this period his health began to be injured by the progress of a threatening internal disorder; but it had little effect either on his spirits or activity. His business every day became wider, and his attention to it was unremitted, methodical, and indefatigable. His hours of relaxation were devoted to his family and social enjoyment; at these times he never suffered the cares of the counting-house to intrude;—he was the life of every company, and the soul of every pleasure.

He at length assumed a more expensive style of living; took a house in the country (for the charms of which he had ever a peculiar taste) as a summer residence; set up an equipage, increased the number of his servants, and kept an open and hospitable, though not a luxurious, table.

The hours fled on downy pinions; his wife rested on him, his children caught sunshine from his smiles; his domestics adored him, and his acquaintance vied with each other in paying him respect. His life, he frequently repeated, had been a series of unbroken success. His religion, for he laid no stress on forms, was a sentiment of grateful and fervent love.—'God is love,' he would say, 'and the affectionate, benevolent heart is his temple.'

 

 

CHAPTER III

It will now be necessary, for the development of my own particular character, again to revert to earlier periods.—A few days before my birth, my aunt had lost (as already related) a lovely female infant, about four months old, and she received me, from the hands of my dying mother, as