So, my good mother, you must expect to see my dear
father a great beau. Wig, said my master, he wants none; for his own
venerable white locks are better than all the perukes in England.--But I
am sure I have hats enough somewhere.--I'll take care of every thing,
sir, said Mrs. Jewkes.--And my poor father, when he came to me, could not
refrain tears. I know not how, said he, to comport myself under these
great favours. O my child, it is all owing to the divine goodness, and
your virtue.
Sunday.
This blessed day all the family seemed to take delight to equip
themselves for the celebration of the Sabbath in the little chapel; and
Lady Jones and Mr. Williams came in her chariot, and the two Misses
Darnford in their own. And we breakfasted together in a most agreeable
manner. My dear father appeared quite spruce and neat, and was quite
caressed by the three ladies. As we were at breakfast, my master told
Mr. Williams, We must let the Psalms alone, he doubted, for want of a
clerk: but Mr. Williams said, No, nothing should be wanting that he could
supply. My father said, If it might be permitted him, he would, as well
as he was able, perform that office; for it was always what he had taken
delight in. And as I knew he had learnt psalmody formerly, in his youth,
and had constantly practised it in private, at home, on Sunday evenings,
(as well as endeavoured to teach it in the little school he so
unsuccessfully set up, at the beginning of his misfortunes, before he
took to hard labour,) I was in no pain for his undertaking it in this
little congregation.
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