CHAP. X. AFTER Mr. Wallace and Mr. Howard had conversed a little longer, in reference to Mr. Blunt's family, Edwin, when he had an opportunity, said: 66 Why, papa, Mr. George did not use to talk as he does now." "No, my dear," said Mr. H. "he did not. I once had much hope of him, that he would have been the comfort of his parents, and a very useful character. He is not the first promising youth I have known, who has been ruined by bad company. Truly, the apostle's admonition is one that is much needed, 'Evil communications corrupt good manners.' good was to be expected from his friendship with the Rackett family. I have heard that William and John, when they were at college at * * *, with some of their companions of similar dispositions, took the doors of their chambers off the hinges, and at midnight, in a drunken frolic, burnt them in the midst of the No quadrangle *. I fear they were attentive to every thing but their learning. One thing is certain, that they brought home enough wickedness and impiety to infect and ruin all the young men in the neighbourhood. No, Edwin, he did not talk once as he does now. His poor father used to hope very well of George; and I thought he had reason. But he has sadly disappointed our expectations." "And did Mr. George become so bad all at once, papa?" "No, my dear: there is a progression in vice. Hazael, when the prophet told him how vile and cruel he would one day become, replied indignantly, 'Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this?' And yet, by degrees, he became the very character at which he shuddered." "The moral precept," said Mr. Wallace, "of one of the classic writers, obstœ principiis, ' resist the beginnings of iniquity,' is a very good one." "Solomon," said Mr. Howard, "has the same idea frequently, in the Proverbs. The beginning of iniquity,' says he, 'is as when one letteth out water.' And the Psalmist beautifully * This was literally a fact. marks the progression of vice, in the first Psalm: Blessed,' says he, is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners; nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.' A sinner does not all at once take a place in the scorner's chair." "This is very true," said Mr. Wallace. "I dare say you recollect poor Turnaway, Mr. Howard?" "Oh yes, very well. I apprehend he was an awful illustration of your remark." "He was, indeed, Sir. He was once highly esteemed for his religion. At first, I have heard, he relinquished worship in his family, or only attended to it on Sunday evenings. This did not last long. All appearance of religion was soon given up in his household. The conversation became altogether light and unprofitable. His children were permitted to run after all the vain, foolish, and expensive fashions which came up. Then they formed an extensive acquaintance with people of dissipated habits, and gave luxurious entertainments. Foolish books supplied the place of the Bible, and of works of a more solid and useful kind. The theatre and the ball were diligently frequented, and the house of God was forsaken. Then they had their parties of pleasure on God's holy day. Profaneness, infidelity, scoffing at religion, persecution of the truly pious, succeeded; till, at length, disease arrested him, and death took him to the tribunal of God. Oh yes, Edwin, there is a progression in vice, a fearful one." "And is there not a progression in virtue, papa?" Emma gently whispered. "Yes, my love," said Mr. Howard, "there is. This was finely marked in the father of poor George. I knew him when he had no better portion than the present world. He lost a dear babe, whom he idolized. By that painful stroke, the charm that united him to the things of time and sense was dissolved. He followed, in thought, the happy spirit of the child to glory. The language of David occurred to him: 'I shall go to him, though he shall not return again unto me.' 'But,' said he, 'am I ready to enter into the invisible world?' The enquiry awakened him to a sincere concern for his everlasting welfare. He was found where Nathaniel delighted to be, under the fig-tree: he began to meditate and pray. He diligently attended the house of God. He carefully perused the sacred pages, with prayer to the Father of Lights for the gracious illumination of his Holy Spirit. He cheerfully relinquished worldly society. He was enabled to rest with complacency on the finished work of the Lord Jesus. He found a holy delight in walking with God. In the family, the church, and the world, he was conscientiously endeavouring to glorify his almighty Saviour. It was evident to all around him, some time before his last illness, that he was ripening apace for a better world. Very often he was able to say: 'I have a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which I deem, beyond expression, better than continuing here;' till, at length, his affairs, settled for both worlds, to use his own expression, his heavenly Father said, 'Come up hither;' and the happy, ransomed, exulting spirit, 'Clapp'd its glad wings, and tower'd away, Oh yes, Emma, there is a progression in virtue and piety. The Scripture says, "The path of the just is as the shining light, which shineth brighter and brighter till the perfect day.' May it be your path, Emma, and mine." "Such a character as poor George Blunt is much to be pitied, as well as censured," said Mr. Wallace. "He is too old to bear the control of his friends, too inexperienced to guide himself with any kind of direction, and too proud and opinionated to ask for any one's advice. Unless God's grace and mercy prevent, his ruin is certain." |