seem tender and affectionate at such a time? How could a soldier, in the heat of battle, stop to smile upon his wife, or kiss his children? Even if he spoke to them at such a time, the highly raised state of his feelings would, probably, give something like sharpness to his voice. But I forbear excuses. Christ was tender and affectionate in the severest agonies, the most distressing conflicts. I hope, if I am ever permitted to return, you will find me a little more like him than I have been."

In his strictly domestic letters, he sometimes hits off the different humors, peculiarities, relations, and circumstances of himself and his connexions, with inimitable vivacity, and a sportiveness which shows how easily a great man can unbend himself, when occasion requires.-A short passage from the close of one such letter will serve as a specimen of the qualities alluded to; and, like his satire upon quackery, may serve a more important purpose than mere amusement. In the keen irony which pervades it, is an effectual rebuke of that doating partiality, which leads so many parents to think their own children prodigies of genius :—

"As to baby, she is to be the greatest genius, and the greatest beauty in these parts. I could easily fill a sheet with proofs of her talents. Suffice it to say, that she has four teeth; stands alone; says pa' and ma'; no-no-very stoutly, and has been whipped several times for being wiser than her father."

With a heart always more ready to confer favors than to receive them, his condition was very frequently such, that he needed rather "to be ministered unto, than to minister;" but the most agonizing sufferings of body, when exempted from depression of mind, never rendered him the less cheerful and agreeable husband and father. It is astonishing how lightly he esteemed such afflictions.' They seemed to affect him almost as little as violence inflicted on a block or a stone. His demeanor under bodily agonies has often been such, that he was rather envied than pitied by his family and attendants. These were, indeed, seasons of unusual gayety and cheerfulness. He has left a description of the accumulated evils, that were crowded into a few days, into which his playful imagination has thrown so much of humor, as to divest the subject of its repulsive character, and clothe it with no ordinary attractions. But it is chiefly interesting as an illustration of a happy temper :

"Since I wrote last, I have been called to sing of mercy and judgment. My old friend, the Sick Head-ache, has favored me with an unusual share of his company, and has seemed particularly fond of visiting me on the Sabbath. Then came Cholera Morbus, and, in a few hours, reduced me so low, that I could have died as easily as not. Rheumatism next arrived, eager to pay his respects, and embraced my right shoulder with such ardor of affection, that he had well nigh_torn it from its socket. I had not thought much of this gentleman's powers before; but he has convinced me of them so thoroughÎy, that I shall think and speak of them with respect as long as I live. Not content with giving me his company all day, for a fortnight together, he has insisted on sitting up with me every night, and, what is worse, made me sit up too. During this time, my poor shoulder, neck, and back, seemed to be a place in which the various pains and aches had assembled to keep holyday; and the delectable sensations of stinging, pricking, cutting, lacerating, wrenching, burning, gnawing, &c., succeeded each other, or all mingled together, in a confusion that was far from being pleasing. The cross old gentleman, though his zeal is somewhat abated by the fomentations, blisters, &c., with which we welcomed him, still stands at my back, threatening that he will not allow me to finish my letter.—But enough of him and his companions. Let me leave them for a more pleasing theme.

"God has mercifully stayed his rough wind in the day of his east wind. No horrible, hell-born temptations, no rheumatism of the mind has been allowed to visit me in my sufferings; but such consolations, such heavenly visits, as turned agony into pleasure, and constrained me to sing aloud, whenever I could catch my breath long enough to utter a stanza. Indeed, I have been ready to doubt whether pain be really an evil; for, though more pain was crowded into last week, than any other week of my life, yet it was one of the happiest weeks I ever spent. And now I am ready to say, Come what will comesickness, pain, agony, poverty, loss of friends-only let God come with them, and they shall be welcome. Praised, blessed forever, be his name, for all my trials and afflictions! There has not been one too many-all were necessary, and good, and kind."

How perfectly versed was he in the heavenly art of extracting the choicest sweets from the bitterest cup!" honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock." How much anguish must such a demeanor under sufferings have saved "the part

ners of his blood!" What rare and exquisite enjoyment must it have imparted to them, to witness a happiness which the calamities of life could not mar! It was surely an enviable privilege to enjoy instructions rendered so emphatical and impressive by the circumstances of the teacher.

In another extract may be seen the tender yearnings of a father's heart-a heart, nevertheless, in a state of sweet subjection to "the Father of spirits, who chasteneth us for our profit, that we may be partakers of his holiness :”—

66 May 13, 1816.

"Your welcome letter, my dear mother, has just arrived. You would pity me, if you knew in what circumstances I sit down to answer it. For ten days, I have been in what Dr. Young calls "the post of observation, darker every hour." Poor little Caroline lies before me, writhing under the agonies of dropsy in the head. The physicians have given her over. Louisa sits before me making her shroud; yet she will probably live a week longer; her distress increasing every day, till death closes it. I thought that I was almost without natural affection; that I did not love my children; but I find, to my cost, that I do. Her distress wrings every nerve and fibre of my heart. If you have ever seen a person die of this dreadful disorder, I need not describe it. If you have not, description can give you but little idea of it. I am, however, mercifully spared the keener distress of being unreconciled to the trial. As yet, I can bless the name of the Lord, and I bless him that I can. Whether I shall continue to feel so to the end, he only knows. It is painful to see her suffer for my sins. It is dreadful to think of having provoked such a being as God is, to inflict such sufferings.-But it is right. The affliction is too light, as, indeed, every affliction short of eternal death would be. I find a great difference between the effect of suffering in my own person, and in the person of another. Personal sufferings seem to harden the heart, and make me selfish, so that I can feel little for others. They will drag one's attention home to himself. But suffering in the person of another seems to have an effect directly opposite, and is, therefore, more beneficial. I needed some such trial, to teach me how to sympathize with my people in similar circumstances."

For more than a week afterwards, he watched this child, "struggling between life and death"-the victim of complicated diseases, the effects of which it would be difficult to describe and almost congeal one's blood to read. Yet he was

calm as the morning, when the sun ariseth;" and, though his health was impaired by watching, in addition to his labors, he says of this season-" It has been, on the whole, a happy week. I have been unusually free from spiritual trials; and any thing which frees me from them is a blessing. Be not distressed on our account. We are happy, and can sing, "sweet affliction," &c. I would not but have had it on any account."

It will add nothing to the strength of the impression produced by these extracts, to say, that he was a most kind and tender husband, a most faithful and affectionate father; but it is adding something to their import, to affirm that, in him, these qualities were uniform, and manifested in his daily intercourse with his household.

He was the companion of his children. Not unfrequently would he descend, as it were, to their level, and mingle, for a few moments, in their pastimes, and even invent new diversions for them; particularly such as would call forth exertions of skill and ingenuity-so that their very amusements might prove a profitable exercise, and contribute to the developement of their intellectual faculties. Games of chance, and every thing which bore a distant resemblance to them, he utterly disallowed. He delighted to amuse them with pictures; at the same time pouring into their minds a knowledge of the arts, or of historical characters, or of geographical and statistical facts, or of the natural history of animals, or whatever else would be most readily suggested by the picture.

Often would he entertain his children, either from the stores of his own memory, or from his still richer invention, with tales and fables; from which it was their task to deduce the moral, as an exercise of their perceptive and reasoning faculties, in pay for the entertainment which he had afforded them. If they failed, he would, of course, make the application himself.

So far as he exerted himself for the intellectual advancement of his children, he did it not so much by set lessons, and at seasons set apart for that purpose exclusively, as by incidental instructions. There were many days when his engagements left him no time to meet them, except at their meals; then-indeed it was his common practice-he would improve the time spent at the table for this purpose-proposing various questions, and inviting inquiries from them, always leaving them with a subject for consideration, and often calling upon them at night, to mention any new idea which they might have acquired during the day. He was much devoted to the welfare of his children; and his cares, burdens and maladies, were oppressive indeed, when they did not share a father's attentions.

To instruct them in religion, was, of course, his first care. Here, also, he wisely consulted their age and capacities, and imparted it, in measure and kind, as they were able to bear. He doubted the expediency of giving religious instruction only at stated periods, and dealing it out with parade and formality, and in tedious addresses. His motto was- "Line upon line, precept upon precept; here a little, and there a little," as occasion offered, or the emergency demanded.

But he was master, as well as father; "one that ruled well his own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity." He habitually explained his commands to such of his children as were of sufficient age to understand and appreciate them; and always referred to the Scriptures, as the umpire from whose decisions there was no appeal. "The Bible says thus," was the invariable and ultimate argument for enforcing obedience. Appeals of this kind contribute greatly to inspire an early reverence for the sacred book. It was a willing obedience, and from exalted principles, which he aimed to

secure.

He treated his servants as fellow creatures-as if he believed, that God made of one blood all the people that dwell upon the earth'-as if he expected to stand with them at the bar, where "he shall have judgment without mercy, who hath showed no mercy." They shared his religious instructions, and were remembered in his prayers. He also exacted of his children, as an inviolable duty, kind and considerate treatment towards the domestics. To several of them his counsels and prayers were blessed. To one, who had been anxious for her own salvation in consequence of his previous fidelity, and apparently lost her impressions, he affectionately said, as she entered the parlor, bearing a pitcher of water-“I hope the time may never come, when you will long for a drop of that water to cool your tongue." It was a word in season-she became a Christian. Another was about to leave his family for a gay circle, with the prospect of entering a new relation, from which he apprehended danger to her soul. At family prayer, the last time she was expected to be present, he prayed that the separation might not be eternal. The petition was remembered; she soon returned to her service in his family, exhibited evidence of conversion, and afterwards died in faith. This tenderness involved no sacrifice of dignity or authority on his part; nor did it cause insubordination on the part of servants, but, in most cases, a more willing and faithful service.