The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1869-02-24
SORROW WITHOUT HOPE.

The great teacher and rhetoriean, Qoine-
tilian, introduces the With book of his i'm
mortal work by relating to the friend to
whom he dedic ated it, his domestic bereave-
mentS. He says, alluding to the death Of
his last son:
"What shall l do now? OF what use can
deem myself longer, when the Gods thus
reprObate me For thus it happened that
l was smitten with like stroke when set
about writing that book also, which l pub
lished upon the Causes of the Decline of
ElOquence. 1t would have been best thea
to have cast that ill-starred book, with what
soever else there was of unhappy culture in
me, on the premature funeral pyre which
should have consumed my vitals, and not
to weary my profane tenacity of life more
with new undertakings. For what good
parent can pardon me, if l be capable of
farther study? VIII ne not abhOr forti-
tude of mind in me, which enables me, now
that l am survivor of all that was dear to
me, to employ my voice in any other work
than reproaching the Gods? Ought l to do
anything else than protest that there is no
divine Providence which regards this world.
For if my fate does not prove this, against
whom no charge could lie save that l con-
sent to hve,) surely the fate of those loved
ones proves it, whom cruel death doomed
without single fault. First their mother
was torn from me; but she died compare
lively happy, although snatched away by the
cruelest fate, before she had finished her
nineteenth year. That one calamity so
crushed me, that no good fortune could lon
ger make me happy. For not only was she
endowed with every virtue which belongs to
woman, that could make the grief of be-
reaved husband incurable; her age, almost
girlish when compared with mine, may be
reckoned as one of the wounds of my wild
OwhOod. Yet, l was happy in my surviving
children And she, by her rapid course to
the grave, had escaped the chief miseries Of
life; a destiny which she used to crave,
provided only it left me unframed; but that,
alas could not be. First my younger son,
when his fifth year was just completed, ex-
tingushed another light in my heart. l am
not boastful of my misfortunes; l have no
wish to exaggerate the causes of my tears:
would God there were some means of dimin-
ishing them But how can [ conceal how
beautiful he was in eOuntenance, how sweet in
speech, what sparks of genius, and what sub
stantial signs of calm and profound I'M
derstanding he showed, beyond what can
expect to be believed Had he been the
child of any other man, l must have loved
him. But this was the exquisite treachery
of fortune, that she taught him, in order to
irAiet on me a sharper torture, to love me
better than his nurses, than his grand mother
who reared him, than all such persons as are
wont to attract the affections of children at
that age. For this cause, l congratulate
myself on that bereavement which l expe-
rienced in the death of his excellent mother,
whose merits surpass all praise. For that
which l have to weep on my own account is
less than what l have to be glad of on hers
After this, was sustained only by the
hope and Joy of my Quinctilian; and he was
enough to console parent. For he had
entered his tenth year, and showed not only
the flowers like his brother, but the clear and
developed fruits of genius. l swear by my
ealamities, by my wretcbed consciousness.
by these ghosts, diyinities of my sorrow, that
1 saw in him such forces of genius for &C
curing learning, as never knew surpassed,
(and 1 have taught many,) and spOntane
Gus zeal which cannot be inspired by force,
as the teachers Of youth know. There was
too such integrity, such piety, such humani-
ty, such generosity, that he could not but
suggest the fear of that dreaded thunderbolt,
which has been often observed to smite soon