it long, festivity. We had not been speculating upon when a peasant, in his way from the village, informed us, that they were celebrating the birth of a son and heir newly born to the great proprietor of the valley. It is very well, it is even very right, said my friend, after indulging a few moments in musing, that the first born should be ushered into the world with more than ordinary welcome. I only wish that they would put their respect and joy upon a more suitable footing than is commonly done,-that they would look to the dignity of character with which the moral constitution of society invests the son and heir, rather than to his large expectations. Society hails him as the person set apart by Providence to succeed in upholding and transmitting her institutions, as a future centre of union to a portion of her members, and point of support to her necessary relations. She sees in him one pledge more of her continuance, if not of her improvement; and in the little world of home, he is joyfully saluted as the future main trunk in which all the branches shall maintain their connection, and the family still retain a root in earth. But how much more excellent is this dignity in a religious point of view. If we turn to the earliest state of God's church upon earth, there, in the first born of the patriarch, we behold the future high-priest, ordained to mediate with daily sacrifices, between God and the household,-we see the destined conservator of his oracles, the chosen channel of his blessings, to convey them to nations unborn, the future king, to rule and dispense justice among his brethren; and though the only begotten Son of God, and first born from the dead, be the sole Mediator and highpriest now, and the offices of his church have been committed to a peculiar class of men, still the son and heir is not entirely divested of spiritual privilege and responsibility. God still retains some of his peculiar claim upon the first born. As long as society is bound together in bonds of Christianity, there, as future head of the family, as its future representative in the general assemblage of families, he is bound in an especial manner to qualify himself for discharging that high situation faithfully and diligently, for his sake, who was the first born among many brethren. These I own, are not the notions commonly entertained. Would that they were. Without these privileges, what, indeed, is the first born? First, it may be said, to enjoy his mother's caresses,-first, to receive his father's instructions,-first, to taste all the blissful feelings which existence bestows,-to have offered to him, as to one endowed with a sacredness of office, the first fruits of all earthly enjoyments; but alas, is he not also the first to taste the cup of sorrow? Is it not his to shed the first tear, to heave the first sigh, and in the natural course of things, first to quit the banquet of worldly happiness, to which he had been so fondly welcomed. The Rectory of Valehead. THE SERVANTS OF THE FAMILY. My father threw a certain dignity around the character of our servants, by making us consider them as ministers of God's comforts, as attendants on the wants which his bounty satisfied. And while he bade us think with gratitude and love upon their faithful attention and watchful observance, he directed us to the inestimable love, and the unwearied care of him who took upon himself the form of a servant, waited in all humility upon his disciples, became the minister to our spiritual wants, and wrought the work of our redemption. Associated thus in our minds, our servants, you may suppose, were treated with meekness, gentleness, and forbearance, as fellow-servants of our heavenly master, and with respect and kindness, as representatives of our continual protector, and ministers of his bounty. We gathered too, from their services to us, what we also owed to him; and while the duties of the nurse represented, in the most affecting manner, his love and care, the faithful hoary-headed steward put us in mind of our responsibility. Thus, the very help and comfort which we derived from them, was continually instructive, for their fidelity and alacrity was often a rebuke, always a spur to us in our duty towards our eternal master, who, by so kind and delightful a medium, was pleased to remind us every day of himself; there was a continual action and re-action going on; the more their services prompted us to think of our own due to our master in heaven, the more considerate and meek became our conduct to them, and again, in return, the more ardent their zeal and faithfulness towards us. Thus, there was no jealous and exacting authority on the one side, nor eye-service and dishonest subterfuge on the other. We were associated by the most blessed of bonds, all their spiritual knowledge was derived at our hands, they shared with us morn and eve in the banquet of God's daily heavenly bread, which he bestows in prayer; we all formed one family, and much resembled in constitution, those nations in which the people look up for government to an hereditary priesthood, whom they reverence and love. They were a willing people, and we, I trust, a meek priesthood. The Rectory of Valehead. A GODLY HOME. OH! great-unspeakable-is the blessedness of a godly home. Here is the cradle of the Christian; hence he sallies forth for encounter with the world, armed at all points, disciplined in all the means of resistance, and full of hope of victory under his heavenly leader. Hither he ever afterwards turns a dutiful and affectionate look, regarding it as the type and pledge of another home; hither, too, when sore wounded in that conflict, he resorts to repair his drooping vigour; here, when abandoned by the selfish sons of this world, he finds, as in a sanctuary, the children of God ready with open arms to receive him; and here, the returning prodigal, enfolded in the embrace of those who know not, dream not of the impurities of the world with which he has been mixing, feels all at once his heart burst with shame and repentance. Merciful God! what a city of refuge hast thou ordained in the Christian home. A truly Christian home can scarcely be said to die: it may disappear from the eyes of flesh, but its better parts, those which alone are truly valuable, belong also to our everlasting home. It has but to throw off the elements of flesh, and it becomes at once that spiritual home to which eternal bliss is appended. All its occupations are preparations for another life, all its actions converge to that point; its society is a lively figure of that in heaven, and its bonds of union, though originating in the flesh, have long ago been advanced and established in the spirit. Its inmates regard each other as companions of the life to come, and deride the power of any separation which this world can effect. They look with contemptuous pity upon the miserable expedient for union after death, to which worldlings resort, the laying up their bones in a costly vault; thus making mockery of home by a disgusting assemblage of mouldering skeletons. Being one in spirit, whether in the same grave, or with half the world between, they are still in union. The Rectory of Valehead. ADDRESS TO THE DEPARTED SPIRIT OF A BELOVED MOTHER. OH! thou, for ever fond, for ever true, Beneath whose smile the boy to manhood grew, To sorrow piteous, and to error mild, Has death for ever torn thee from thy child? |