He anxiously aimed to convince his children of the emptiness of the things of time. Anecdotes, inquiries, or sentiments, brought forward by them in the course of conversation, afforded him matter; and, on these occasions, his children were equally delighted and instructed; for his lively genius and fertile imagination illuminated the whole conversation. Daily occurrences-public facts or public sentiments, were opportunities of which he availed himself, to inculcate on their minds important truths: they drew from him reflections and maxims-at once familiar, natural, and interesting. His high attainment in the just estimation of whatever relates to THIS LIFE ONLY, enabled him to speak as one who FELT what he asserted; and to place his sentiments before them in a manner so vivid, that, with the sentiments, he also communicated a PERCEPTION of the futility of all temporal things, however splendid. He spake of them as "baubles for the children of this world"-"a lying, dying, pageant, which passeth away as a dream." Mr. C. may have been censured for not letting his children mix more with society: but he used to say, "Purity of character is to be preferred to accomplishment;" " and he was aware of snares and traps into which young minds might fall. If, however, mixed society was any loss, that loss was amply compensated by HIS OWN, which was always interesting and enriching. His readiness to gratify innocent requests was ever alive. Many instances might be recorded, but one shall suffice. On his daughter's asking him, just as he was going out into company, to give her words to a tune which she had composed, he did not disregard or forget her request; but while general conversation was proceeding, he wrote, unobserved, a few verses, which he presented to her on his return. He used to remark, that a father was not less affec ; tionately mindful of his children, while toiling abroad for them, than the mother, who was fondling them at home. His feelings toward his own children were roused, whenever he heard the cries of any of them which the discipline and regulations of a young family, with depraved passions, will inevitably sometimes produce. Speaking on such occurrences afterward, he would say, "I perceive, that, if it should please God to remove the mother, my children MUST BE RUINED; for I find, that I could give no one but a MOTHER credit sufficient to maintain proper authority. I can scarcely bear to sit still in my study, and hear them cry out under chastisement, even NOW, without rising to make inquiry: but I say to myself, "It is the MOTHER!' and I am quieted." Not that he was wanting or remiss in reproof, where he saw it needful on the contrary, he highly disapproved the manner of some parents, whose reproof extends only to-Nay! my sons-where there ought to be firmness and decision. Yet he possessed also the opposite point of tenderness, in a high degree: and his delicate apprehensions will appear in a few verses which he wrote, and gave to me, with a view to divert and sooth my sorrow, on a child, only one month old, being removed at daybreak; whose countenance, at the time of departure, was most heavenly : LET ME GO FOR THE DAY BREAKETH. "Cease, here longer to detain me, Fondest mother, drown'd in wo : Now thy kind caresses pain me, "See yon orient streak appearing! "Lately launched, a trembling stranger, "Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee, "Weep not o'er these eyes that languish, "There, my mother, pleasures centre, "As through this calm, holy dawning, This memorial, however, differs materially from that found in Mr. Cecil's "Visit to the House of Mourning." In THAT stroke, the heart is seen not only wounded, but bleeding-while the knife cuts deep. THERE is seen, the struggle of a pious heart with the ties of nature. THERE is seen, submission to divine wisdom, and a steady and overcoming faith. Nor can I ever lose sight of that flood of tears which then poured from his eyes, when reluctant nature was constrained to resign a beloved child to the cold arms of death; and to that world, where he now beholds her, and needs no longer, as he then expressed, to "Wish to leave the world, and go to his Father, that he might inquire into the whole of the case-the reasons-the steps-the issue." Here, again, the Gardener is seen, "cutting the promegranate tree almost through."* On a leaf in an old common-place book, I lately found the following passage, which I insert, as being in harmony with the above: "Blessed God! how does nature cleave to a family! How shall I leave them destitute-in weakness-in sin-and in the world! Blessed be thy name, "Thou hast overcome the sharpness of death, and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.' There shall I find all that I wish to find. My wife, if thine, in perfect love INSEPARABLY united-my children, if thine, without cause of anger or grief-my children that are now thine. Our views-joys and praises-object and state, eternally the same!-Our sins, sorrows, and sighing for ever fled away!" In our family worship the scripture was read, in course, by one of his children. While the passage was reading, he frequently interspersed short, pithy, and instructive remarks, in the most easy and familiar manner. Of his prayers, I can only say, that I never did, nor do I ever expect to, hear any like them, in simplicity, unction, and devotion; and in that filial fear, affection, and reverence, which bespoke much of that nearness and close friendship with his God and Saviour, which he so often expressed and so variously exemplified as the high privilege of a Christian. While his prayers comprehended much, both in their matter and manner, yet they were always short. He aimed to. make his family worship useful, without becoming irksome. Latterly they were often alarming, as well as edifying to my own heart, while I discerned him rapidly maturing for that world, where prayer is exchanged for endless praise. * See these Memoirs, page 15. THERE as described in a consolatory letter from a friend, after Mr. Cecil's removal-we contemplate him, without gloom. "To him, the change was inexpressibly glorious. All his friends will truly rejoice, that he was not called longer to suffer in a state which could not but be deeply affecting to all who remembered his great talents, his extensive usefulness, his ardent desire to do good, his fervent piety, his steadfast faith, and his pure conduct. Indeed, he possessed such a combination of excellent graces, as are very rarely, indeed scarcely ever, to be found in one individual. They have not, however, perished: they are already blooming in another soil; under a genial climate, where they will produce fruits which will flourish through eternity. How truly will you now rejoice in the honourable course which he run! The days of his sickness and infirmity, blessed be God, are now ever terminated: and he is, what he always desired and longed to be-wholly devoted to the will of God." For HIM, therefore, we weep not: but for ourselves while we may say of him, as he once said in a letter to a friend after burying a pious member of his congregation*" After I had put her into the grave, the rest went away. I stood looking in every body had lamented, and said, "How sad! I, though I cannot now write for tears, looked. in again and said, 'How well !" " Still I contemplate him gone: WHITHER he is gone, and to WHOM-silences nature's perturbed spirit-mingles in the bitter cup-and brightens the overwhelming gloom; and the assurance that prayer being answered, which he so often and so fervently offered up-that when death ap *Mrs. Singleton, of Lamb's Conduit Place: whose remains, at the request of the family, were deposited in St. John's Chapel, till they could be conveniently removed to Ireland. |