peared, in spite of civil war, of increasing wealth, and of many interfering migrations. Young Cecil was placed by his father in a house of business; but he was devoted to literature and the arts, and used to write for some periodical publications. His predominant passion was for painting; and having set out for France, he would have gone on to Rome, for the sake of seeing the works of the great masters, if his pocket had not failed him. It was at last agreed to send him thither, and train him up as an artist; but "a circumstance," says Mrs. Cecil," took place which prevented it, and he remained still under the roof of his father for some time-sunk in the depths of sin, and hardening his conscience by reading books of infidelity." By the term "sunk in the depths of sin," we should naturally have supposed that Mr. Cecil was at this time what the world calls a thoroughly and remarkably vicious character: and there is a passage in the 128th page of the book, written by Mr. Pratt, which countenances this supposition; for it is there observed, that "while under the controut of bad principles, he gave into every species of licentiousness," saving only "that even then the native nobleness of his mind made him despise whatever he thought mean and dishonourable." In the part, nevertheless, which immediately follows the passage last quoted, it is observed by Mr. Pratt, that "the penetration and grandeur of his mind, with his natural superiority to sensual pleasures, made him feel the littleness of every object which engages the ambition and the desires of the carnal man." And it is also remarked by Mr. Pratt generally, in page 124, that "his temptations were to the sins of the spirit, rather than those of the flesh," and that " he possessed, all his life long, a superiority to the pleasures of mere sense not often seen." It likewise is observed by Mrs. Cecil (p. 68), that it was a great preservative to Mr. Cecil, that while he was under the " reign of sin, he had an utter detestation of the leading vices so incident to youth," of which she then names several. There is evidently some difficulty in reconciling these scat. tered observations. The world fre quently complains, and perhaps not always without reason, that religions biographers employ too strong and unexplained expressions in designat ing the unconverted state of the subjects of their narrative, for the sake of magnifying the subsequent gift of the grace of God, and ofgiving an ap pearance of the marvellous to their relation; and the complaint will perhaps be renewed on the present occasion. Mr. Cecil, for so we are disposed on the whole to understand the case, did not freely plunge into all the depths of vice in which a large portion of the world are con tent to live; and never allowed himself, as we also would presume, to remain fixed in any habits of licen tiousness; and yet he was, at this time, in the scriptural sense of the term, a sinner, an unrighteous man, a wicked, an impenitent per son. Doubtless his horror of vice was much less at this, than at the subsequent period; for there is no natural elevation of mind which can produce a disgust for any sin, at all comparable to that which the fear and love of God excite in the heart. Conversion, when genuine, is conver sion from all iniquity; and if a particular vice was avoided or disdained before conversion, it is subsequently avoided and disdained for religious, in addition to all the former reasons. a The era of the conversion of such person as Mr. Cecil, is a portion of his history on which it is fit that we should dwell. We shall therefore give the account in Mrs. Cecil's own words. "While Mr. Cecil was proceeding in such a course of evil" (that is, sunk, as she terms it, in the depths of sin, and hardening himself in infidelity, as well as instil ling the same principles into others), it pleased God by his Spirit to rouse his mind to reflections which gave a turn to his future life." "Lying one night in bed, he was contemplating the case of his mother. I see,' said he witihn himself, two unquestionable facts: First, my mother is greatly afflicted in circumstances, body, and mind; and yet I see that she cheerfully bears up under all, by the support she derives from constantly repairing to her closet and her Bible. Secondly, that she has a secret spring of comfort of which I know nothing; while I, who give an unbounded loose to my appetites, and seek pleasure by every means," (we presume he speaks in this place of his case at that moment, and in all the vehemence of selfreproach,)" seldom or never find it. If, however, there is any such secret in religion, why may not I attain it as well as my mother?—I will immediately seek it of God.' He instantly rose in his bed, and began to pray. But he was soon damped in his attempt, by recollecting that much of his mother's comfort seemed to arise from her faith in Christ. Now,' thought he, this Christ have I ridiculed: He stands much in my way, and can form no part of my prayers. In utter confusion of mind, therefore, he lay down again. Next day, however, he continued to pray to the Supreme Being:' he began to consult books and to attend preachers; his difficulties were gradually removed, and his objections answered; and his course of life began to amend. He now listened to the pious admonitions of his mother, which he had before affected to re ceive with pride and scorn: yet they had fixed themselves in his heart, like a barbed arrow; and, though the effects were at the time concealed from her observation, yet tears would fall from his eyes as he passed along the streets from the impression she had left on his mind. Now, he would discourse with her, and hear her without outrage; which led her to hope, that a gracious principle was forming in his heart, and more especially as he then attended the preaching of the word. Thus he made some progress; but felt no small difficulty in separating from his favourite connections. Light, however, broke into his mind, till he gradually discovered that Jesus Christ, so far from standing in his way, was the only way, the truth, and the life, to all that come unto God by Him." pp. x. xi. Mr. Cecil's father is represented as now taking the alarm, and saying, • Mr. Cecil's own expression." "I know not what to do with you: I have made two experiments for your subsistence;" the one to bring him into his own business, the other to make him a painter. "You now seem to be taking a religious turn; but I tell you plainly, that if you connect yourself with dissenters or sectaries, I will do nothing for you living or dying; but if you choose to go regularly into the church, I will not only bear the expense of a university, for which you have had some education, but I will buy you a living." Mr. Cecil went accordingly (on the recommendation of Dr. Bacon, an old family acquaintance,) to Queen's College, Oxford, May 19, 1773. Mrs. Cecil speaks of the deep and secret conflicts of mind, with which he was here exercised, and of the insults he met with from men of profligacy. He was ordained deacon on the title of the Rev. Mr. Pugh, of Rauceby, Lincolnshire; and in the Lent term following, took the degree of B. A. with great credit. In 1777, he was admitted to priest's orders. three churches in Leicestershire; those of Thornton, Bagwell, and Markfield; and he appears to have been instrumental in bringing the son of the deceased vicar, who was charge of them, to "the knowledge at first too young to undertake the and belief of the truth." He now served Mr. Cecil soon obtained, through the interest of friends, two small livings at Lewes, in Sussex. He was one night on the point of being robbed, as he was returning to his house at Lewes, with 164 in his pocket, being money from Queen Anne's Bounty belonging to these churches. The captain of the gang "asked him who he was, and whither he was going." Mr. Cecil here recurred to a principle to which his mind was habituated, that "nothing needs a lie." He therefore told them very frankly his name, and whither he was going. The leader said, "Sir, I know you, and have heard you preach at Lewes. Let the gentleman's horse go. We wish you good night." These two livings brought in only about 801. per annum; and when his health compelled him to employ a curate, which a rheumatic disorder, brought on by the dampness of his residence, compelled him sometimes to do, they furnished him with no emolument. His object was to have "the truth preached in that place," and he persevered till he could resign his charge satisfactorily. He now moved to London, where he preached at various chapels and churches; and among them, at Lothbury church, in quality of lecturer, at six o'clock on every Sunday morning. Let the fashionable divine contemplate this zealous follower of his heavenly Master, performing the whole duty of St. John's, in Bedford Row; holding an evening lecture in Leicester Fields, not to mention a week-day service; and also enduring the fatigue of walking, at about five o'clock in the morning, to his distant church, in order to address a congregation chiefly of labourers, until, through the failure of health, he indulged in a hackney coach on the winter mornings. "In course of time, notwithstanding this precaution, his health declined, and, after many long and earnest entreaties of his friends, he reluctantly relinquished the lecture at Lothbury; whither he used to go with peculiar pleasure, and where many, who were taking an early walk on a summer morning, wandering in thoughtlessly, heard and embraced the truth, and are some out of the number of those who became his joy and crown. By THIS resignation also, he lost nothing but labour and care, except the satisfaction which it afforded him of ministering to this people: for the emolument arising from the endowment but barely covered his expences." p. xvii. Mr. Cecil, having quitted the chapel near Leicester Fields, preached at Christ Church, Spitalfields. "He entered," (says the pious widow,) "on this charge in Sept. 1787; a date which I am not likely to forget. The first Sunday evening that he went thither, he left in my lap a dying infant (as was supposed) given over by his physicians with scarcely a re maining trace of life, and which he did not expect to find alive on his return. But this did not stop Mr. C. in his work-The walls were to be built in troublous times: and he went forth accordingly, though with a tree bled heart. It pleased God, however, to restore our child, like another Lazarus, a that time: but he took him into his own gracious arms, in the 21st year of his age." Fp. xvii. xvii. The Spitalfields lectureship was unprofitable to him; but in this, as in other things, "it was not for lucre's sake that he spent himself." In 1787 he undertook the lecture in Long Acre chapel, where he preach ed to an extremely large congrega. tion; but he was compelled by ill health to relinquish it. His most important sphere was St. John's chapel, Bedford Row, which he had This building undertaken in 1780. had fallen out of repair; and by the assistance, chiefly of a lady of fortune, and a gentleman in the law, the steady friend of the deceased, the necessary money was provided; and Mr. Cecil was protected against risk. He received no emolument for the first three years, and he had then only 80% a year from other sources. "He had also an arduous path to tread. He had to preach to a people inimical to the spirit of the Gospel, on the one hand; and to make his way through the prejudices of the religious part of his auditory, on the other-who, not comprehending his aim, were ready to pronounce on his plan, as shunning to declare the whole counsel of God. Yet he was wisely following the example of his Master, in delivering the truth, as they who heard were able to bear it; and thus forming a lodgment in their minds, and preparing them for the full display of all the doctrines of the Gospel." p. xxiv. After labouring successfully for many years in this vineyard, he began to suffer from a complaint, supposed to be a sciatica; and in December 1798, he mentioned to his morning congregation, that he was preaching contrary to the advice of his physicians, and should not be able to meet them in the evening. He was unable to finish his discourse. During the illness which ensued, he endured much pain. The following expressions are recorded as having come from him in this season of the suspension of his labours. "My state is an admonition to young men. I have been too much occupied in preparing to live, and too little in living. I have read too much from curiosity and for mental gratification. I was literary when I should have been active. We trifle too much. Let us do something for God. The man of God is a man of feeling and activity." At another time he said, "I have great peace; not a ruffled breeze night nor day; and this is all grounded on the doctrine of Jesus Christ." "I am now often thankful for five minutes' case, and I wonder I was not much more so for that of fifty years." Again: "How little we think of improving the time we have, while we have opportunity! I find every thing but religion, vanity. I am ready, even on this sick bed, to preach to preachers. I ask myself, what is my hold and support-what will remain with me, when every thing else is washed away? To recollect a promise of the Bible-THIS is substance! Nothing will do but the Bible. If I read authors, and hear different opinions, I cannot say, 'THIS IS TRUTH!'-I cannot grasp it as substance: but the Bible gives me something to HOLD. I have learnt more within these curtains, than from all the books I ever read." p. xxxi. This season of affliction was in many respects a period of improve ment to Mr. Cecil. His style of preaching, Mrs. Cecil says, was exalted by it; for though feeble and emaciated, he still, frequently after a night of suffering, ascended the pulpit, and exhibited no other effects of his disease, except the feeling and unction which it produced." "It was evident that he had not suffered so many things in vain, but that he was refined in the furnace of affliction, to shew forth the glory of Him who had called him. He acquired a more keen preception of the vanity of all human things; he stripped off the mask from the face of the world, shewed its poverty and emptiness, its enchantments, its snares, and its pretensions, as delusive and fallacious; he drew aside the veil, and CHRIST. OBSERY. No. 120. exhibited those glorious realities in reversion for the faithful, on which his soul delighted to dwell, and of which he is now in the full enjoyment." In 1800, Mr. Cecil was requested to accept the livings of Chobham and Bisley, in Surrey, but repeatedly refused to do it. The ground of this disinclination is not stated; and the reader is therefore left in some obscurity on this subject. Sufficient reasons to induce his compliance appear to have been urged; but Mr. Cecil, it is observed, continued to retain his objections, till" au old friend hinted to him, that he might be resisting a call in providence. To this intimation," it is said, "he listened, and consented to refer the business to the trustees and a few select friends, who should meet for the purpose of determining the question." They unanimously advised his acceptance; and thus an addition of about 150l. per annum was made to his small income. The trustees who are here spoken of, were appointed by the will of the late Mr. Thornton, of pious memory, for the purpose of nominating to certain livings committed into their hands; and Mr. Cecil was himself included in the trust. His unwillingness to accept the two livings in question arose, as we conceive, from a laudable delicacy, which ought not to that the deceased had intended not be removed, except by shewing to preclude trustees themselves from benefiting by the trust. This was clearly manifested in the present case; and the call of Providence, as this delicate moral question was fully we apprehend, was assumed, when settled. The reluctance of Mr. Cecil was honourable to his character. The acceptance of the livings was also honourable, under all the circumstances of the case. "Mr. Cecil found these parishes, like others where the light of truth has scarcely dawned, sunk in the depths of ignorance and immorality-very FEW hearers in the church while MANY were making the Sabbath a day of sport and amusement. He found that THERE also, as in other places whither 5 G had been led by Providence, he had to begin at the very foundation, under the most discouraging circumstances, as will appear from the impression made on his mind, on his first going among them. He says, When I first came to Chobham, as I was sitting in the vestry-on hearing the noise and uproar of the boys, and the people in the gallery talking aloud to each other-I burst into tears; and felt with the prophet, when he said-Can these dry bones live?'-But the fields were white unto the harvest: he did not labour in vain among this people: a large and attentive congregation was col lected, and many saw the day of the Son of Man, and were glad. Some of these are already entered into rest, where both he that sowed, and those who reaped, now rejoice to gether." pp. xxxVİ. xxxYİİ. In 1807, Mr. Cecil had a slight paralytic affection. «People say," (he observed at this time) "and physicians too, that my preaching three times a day through the hot weather at St. John's was the cause of my present infirmity a state in which I bave not only seemed to lose my faculties, but, at one time, was unable to speak at all. I dare say they are right but I have an interior feeling, which, while I hear people talking thus ou the subject, makes me smile, and say within myself, You talk well, but you know nothing of the matter. God is in this thing; and He is teaching me a lesson, which I cannot learn from books.'" p. xxxix. His There is an approximation to enthusiasm in the language here used, if taken in its strictest sense. physicians and friends undoubtedly did not deny, that "God was in this thing," or shew that they knew nothing of the matter, because they said, that too much preaching had brought on the complaint. Perhaps, it was a part of Mr. Cecil's infirmity, that he was too eager to preach. It was, however, the infirmity of a noble mind. His familiar language (which was apt to be unguarded in cases of this sort), must Hot be construed very strictly, and was no exact expositor of the deliberate sentiments of his mind, on the important doctrine involving itself in this question. In February 1808, another paralytic seizure took place, which deprived him of the use of his right side, and totally disabled him for farther exertions in public. Elec tricity was ordered, and administered with great kindness and attention; but, proving ineffectual, he was then ordered to Batt The expences of such a journey not being within his own power, a few friends readily and cheerfully subscribed to assist him in this undertaking: so that he was relieved from carefulness in this respect; and frem difficulty, so far as the kindness and liberity of friends could relieve him. His full relief, however, was on its way; and the tim now hastening, when the sickness and surrows of a worn-out traveller were to be exchanged for an eternal weight of glory, in that state where the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. "After having tried the Bath waters for several months, and receiving no benefit, ho was ordered to try change of air. Herr, again, he appears the child of Providence He often used to say I set out with do HIS WORK, and leave all the rest to Him thing, but dependence on God-resolving to I know that He will take care and provide Nor was his faith vain; for, as extremity for me. This was his habitual sentiment. arose, some gracious providence was prepare ed to meet his necessities." p. xl. Mrs. Cecil makes honourable mention of several individuals, who administered pecuniary and other relief to her husband in the seasons of his necessity. The possession of such friends constitutes true wealth, and proves often better than actual riches. He who has been eminent through life for the most unques tionable disinterestedness; who has both preached against the love of the mammon of unrighteousness, and has resolutely practised what he has preached; who has withstood the temptations, ordinarily so insurmountable, arising from the com sideration of a large family, weak health, and easy opportunities of augmenting his little fund; who ha made the preaching of the Gospel an honourable employment in the eyes, even of adversaries, by con verting the chapel which he had undertaken into a speculation for the advancement of the cause of Christ,, and not of his own temporal interest; and has joyfully sat down with loss, when the chapel has, in this sense only, flourished, say ing to his hearers," Now we live, if |