morning, I could often weep with pleasure. The holy calmthe silence the freshness-thrill through my soul. At such moments I should feel the presence of any person to be intrusion and impertinence, and common affairs nauseous. The stillness of an empty house is paradise to me. The man who has never felt thus, cannot be made to understand what I mean.

"Hooker's dying thought," he added, "is congenial to my spirit. 'I am going to leave a world disordered, and a church disorganized, for a world and a church where every angel, and every rank of angel, stand before the throne in the very post God has assigned them.' I am obliged habitually to turn my eye from the wretched disorders of the world and the church, to the beauty, harmony, meekness, and glory of the better world."

On another occasion, he said "I have been long in the habit of viewing every thing around me as in a state of ALIENATION. I have no hold on my dearest comforts. My children must separate from me. One has his lot cast in one place, and another elsewhere. It may be my particular leading, but I have never leaned toward my comforts without finding them give way. A sharp warning has met me-These are aliens, and as an alien live thou among them.' We may use our comforts by the way, We may take up the pitcher to drink, but the moment we begin to admire, God will in love dash it to pieces. But I feel no such alienation from the Church. I am united to Christ and to all his glorified and living members by an indissoluble bond. Here my mind can centre and sympathize, without suspicion or fear."

“I feel," he would say, "a congeniality with the character of Jeremiah. I seem to understand him. I could approach him, and feel encouraged to familiarity. It is not so with Elijah or Ezekiel. There is a rigour and severity about them which seem to repel me to a distance, and excite reverence rather than sympathy and love."

In a very interesting case on which I consulted him, he gave me a striking view of this feature in his character-"I should have fallen myself into au utterly different mode of conducting

the affair. But you have not the melancholy in your constitution which I have, and therefore to look for my mode of the thing in you, would be expecting what ought not to be expected. This is a strong alterative in your dispensation. Now I have long been in the habit of viewing every thing of that aspect rather in a melancholy light. You are standing on the justice, the reason, the truth of your cause, I should have heard God saying--- Son of man follow me.' It would have led me into a speculative--mystical sort of way. I should have seen in it the flood that is sweeping over the earth--the utter bankruptcy of all human affairs. Most men, if they had stood by and compared our conduct, would have commended yours as rational, but condemned mine as enthusiastic---as connecting things together which had no proper connection; but this is my way of viewing every alterative in my dispensation."

"The heart, "said he, "must be divorced from its idols. Age does a great deal in curing the man of his frenzy; but, if God has a special work for a man, he takes a shorter and sharper course with him. Stand ready for it. I have been in both schools. Bleeding and cauterizing have done much for me, and age has done much also-Can I any longer taste what I eat or what I drink?”

Though the Memoir of Mr. Cecil's life, and the Letters which are subjoined, bear ample testimony to the TENDERNESS OF HIS RELATIVE AFFECTIONS, yet I cannot but add here what a friend wrote on visiting him, many years before his decease, at a time when he was expecting the death of Mrs. Cecil :-"Mrs. Cecil was ill. I called on Mr. Cecil. I found him in his study, sitting over his bible in great sorrow. His tears fell so fast, that he could utter only broken sentences. He said, 'Christians do well to speak of the grace, love and goodness of God; but we must remember that he is a holy and jealous God. Judgment must begin at the house of God. This severe stroke is but a farther call to me to arise and shake myself. My hope is still firm in God. He, who sends the stroke, will bear me up under it: and I have no doubt but if I saw the whole of his

design I should say, 'Let her be taken!' Yet, while there is life, I cannot help saying, 'Spare her another year, that I may be a little prepared for her loss!' I know I have higher ground of comfort: but I shall deeply feel the taking away of the dying lamp. Her excellence as a wife and a mother, I am obliged to keep out of sight, or I should be overwhelmed. All I can do is, to go from text to text, as a bird from spray to spray. Our Lord said to his disciples, Where is your Faith? God has given her to be my comfort these many years, and shall I not trust him for the future? This is only a farther and more expensive education for the work of the ministry: it is but saying more closely, 'Will you pay the price?' If she should die, I shall request all my friends never once to mention her name to me. I can gather no help from what is called friendly condolence. Job's friends understood grief better, when they sat down and spake not a word'."

Our departed friend was, at once, a public and a RETIRED man. While his sacred office, exercised for many years in a conspicuous sphere, brought him much before the world, his turn of mind was retired-he courted solitude-he held converse there with God, and his own great spirit mingled with the mighty dead: he had such a practical knowledge and deep impression of the nothingness of the whole world, compared with spiritual and eternal realities, and he had so deeply felt, and so thoroughly despised its lying pretensions to meet the wants and to satisfy the longings of the immortal soul, that it was no sacrifice to him to turn away from the shows and the pursuits of life, and to shut out all the splendour and seductions of the world.

Yet this retired spirit was not unsocial, morose, or repulsive. No one called him from his retirement to ask spiritual counsel, but he was met with tenderness and urbanity. No congenial mind encountered his without eliciting sparks both of benevolence and wisdom. Not a child in his family could carry its little complaints to him, but he would stop the career of his mind to listen and relieve.

His study was his favourite retreat. His station exposed him

to constant interruptions, some necessary, and others arising from the injudiciousness of those who applied to him. It was not unusual with him to make use of his power of abstraction on these occasions. Time was too valuable to be lavished away on the inconsideration of some of those who thought it necessary to call on him. It was generally his practice, not immediately to obey a summons from his study, but when he knew he had to do with a person who would occupy much of his time by a long conversation before the business was brought forward, rather than hurt their feelings he would carry down in his mind the train of thought which he was pursuing in his study, and, while that which was beside the purpose played on his ear, his mind was following the subject on which it had entered before.

Some men are at home in society: the wide world is their dwelling-place: they are known and read of all men: they have a peculiar talent for improving mixed society. But this was not the character of Mr. Cecil. He unfolded himself, indeed, to his friends; but those friends could not but feel, that, when they broke in on his retirement for any other objects than what were connected with his high calling, they were intruders on inestimable time. I had, indeed, the privilege and happiness of free access to him at all times, for a considerable course of years, while I was his assistant in the ministry; but, for the reasons just assigned, though I was a diligent observer of his mind and habits, I feel myself not prepared to speak fully of his more domestic and retired character.

"Retirement," he said, " is my grand ordinance. Considerations govern me. Death is a mighty consideration with me. The utter vanity of every thing under the sun is another. If a man wishes to influence my mind, he must assign considerations: and, if he assigns one or two which will weigh well, I seem inpatient to stop him if he is proceeding to assign more. He has given me a Consideration, and THAT suffices. The "Night Thoughts" is a great book with me, notwithstanding its glaring imperfections; it realizes Death and Vanity. And, because this

is the frame and habit of my own mind, my ministry partakes of it; and must partake of it, if I would preach naturally and from my heart."

In surveying the Personal Character of Mr. Cecil, it remains to speak somewhat more fully of his intellectual powers.

His IMAGINATION was not so much of the playful and elegant, as bold, inventive, striking, and instinctively judicious and discriminating.

His TASTE in the sister arts of Painting, Poetry, and Music was refined, and his judgment learned. In his younger days he had studied and excelled in Painting and Music; and though he laid them aside that he might devote all his powers to his work, yet the savour of them so far remained, that I have been witness innumerable times, both in public and private, to the felicity of his illustrations drawn from these subjects, and to the superiority that his intimate knowledge of them gave him over most persons with whom they happened to be brought forward. His taste, when young, was for Italian music; but, in his latter years, he was fond of the German style, or rather the softer Moravian. Anthems, or any pieces wherein the words were re-iterated, he disliked, for all public worship especially, as they sacrificed the real spirit of devotion too much to the music. His feelings on this subject were exquisite. "Pure, spiritual, sublime devotion," he would say, "should be the soul of public music." He often lamented the introduction of any other style of architecture in places of worship, beside that which was so peculiarly appropriate, and which, because it was so, called up associations best suited to the purposes of meeting. He said most strikingly"I never enter a Gothic church, without feeling myself impressed with something of this idea--- Within these walls has been resounded, for centuries, by successive generations, "Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ!" The very damp that trickles down the walls, and the unsightly green that moulders upon the pillars, are far more pleasing to me from their associations, than the trim, finished, classic, heathen piles of the present fashion."