ABSTRACT
CHAP. XX. At length the morning dawned that was to separate Edward from the only home he ever remembered to have had, and from the arms of those tender parents who had hitherto held him in their fond embraces. ough his youthful bosom glowed with delight in the prospect of his new profession, and with the still more transporting hope of soon being in the presence of the beloved of his soul; yet he could not leave his little paternal dwelling, where the/ happy season of childhood was passed, nor the protection of those indulgent parents who had supplied all his wants and soothed all his cares, without being impressed with a tender sorrow, which no prospects of pleasure could entirely dispel, and which would have been a defect in his heart if they could. His father and mother were justly entitled to his most ardent a ection, and they fully possessed it. e very stones that formed their habitation, and the trees that sheltered it, were endeared to him by old acquaintance, and by their relation to them. – He rose therefore this morning at the very rst peeping of the dawn, and went into the garden to see, for the last time, those scenes where he had so o en assisted his father in his delightful task, and which were indebted for most of their beauty to their united labours. Here he came to the seat which he had lately raised and consecrated to the memory of Lady Cecilia; and, cutting two suckers, one from a white and the other from a purple lilac tree, he twisted them/ together,1 and planted them in a sequestered spot where he thought they would be most likely to thrive.
