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giving his own comment upon it for an hour every morning."

be well to advert to some of the examples of the wisest and best of men, in support and illustration of the duty of cherishing family religion. We have before mentioned the case of Abraham. Of Moses it is recorded that he was faithful in all his house; and his illustrious successor expressed his determination in the memorable resolution, "As for me, and my house, we will serve the Lord." Of Cornelius, it is declared, that "he feared God, with all his bouse, and prayed to God alway." I might also mention Elkanah and Hannab, Zachariah and Elizabeth, and that interesting family in whose house the Saviour himself often abode; for he loved Mary and her sister, and Lazarus;" though, perhaps, in several of these examples, the duty arises, rather by way of inference, than expressly from what is recorded.

To pass over the accounts given of the domestic worship of the primitive Christians, and to descend more immediately to modern times, it may be observed, that some of the most excellent men amongst the laity, as well as the clergy, have testified their opinion of the importance of family devotion, by their own observance of the duty.

In Burnet's Life of Sir Matthew Hale, we find this passage: "He used constantly to worship God in his family, performing it always himself, if there was no clergyman present."

The biographer of Burnet himself remarks of him-" He was an early riser: private meditation occupied the first two hours and the last half hour of the day. His first and last appearance to his family was at their morning and evening prayers, which were always performed by himself, though his chaplains were present. He drank his tea in company with his children, and took that opportunity of instructing them in religion. He went through the Old and New Testament with them three times,

In the life of that simple-hearted and contented, I had almost said innocent man, Izaac Walton, there is an interesting account of the domestic devotions of Mr. Nicholas Farrer; and, in the life of his contemporary, George Herbert, a similar testimony is borne to his habits of social worship. "His constant public prayers did never make him to neglect his own private devotions, nor those prayers that be thought himself bound to perform with his family, which were always a set form, and not long, and he did always conclude them with that collect which the Church had appointed for the day or week. Thus he made every day's sanctity a step towards that kingdom where impurity cannot enter."

To approach nearer our own day, I would glance at the mention made of the habits of the late Mr. Bacon, a name familiar to every lover of the fine arts. His biographer, Mr. Cecil, states, that "he was a bright example to his family and to the world. Religion, with him, was not the Sunday garb of a formalist. Occupied with business, exalted by favour, and tempted with wealth, religion was still his grand concern. Animated by this, his family dwelt in a house of daily prayer and spiritual instruction."

The plans of his biographer were much the same. "In his familyworship, the Scripture was read in course by one of his children. While the passage was reading, he frequently interspersed short, pithy, and instructive remarks, in the most easy and familiar manner. Of his prayers," continues the narrator, "I can only say that I never did, nor do I ever expect to hear any thing like them in simplicity, unction, and devotion, and in that filial fear, affection, and reverence which bespoke much of that nearness and close friendship with God, which he often expressed as the high privilege of a Christian. While his

prayers comprehended much, both in their matter and manner, they were always short. He aimed to make his family worship useful, without becoming irksome: latterly, they were often alarming as well as edifying, as he appeared rapidly maturing for that world where prayer is exchanged for endless praise."

In Dr. Henderson's Account of his Travels in Iceland, several sketches, of no mean interest, are drawn of the domestic worship of the islanders. In Vol. II. p. 124. he describes the Sysselman, of Skard, collecting his family and leading their hallowed exercises with a life and energy which few, even of the clergy, would surpass. In p. 24, of the same volume, he details another scene at Stadarhraun, in a family of eight individuals, assembled round their coarse wooden table, when several appropriate Psalms were sung in a very lively manner, after which a solemn and impressive prayer was offered up; all the females placing their hands flat on their faces, so as entirely to cover their eyes. "The joy," he adds, "which beamed from their countenances, at the conclusion of the service, discovered plainly the increase of happiness derived from their renewed approach to the Fountain of Bliss." But there are two passages in the first volume so truly interesting, that, as some of your readers may not be in possession of the work, I must quote them.

"The exercise of domestic worship is attended to in almost every family in Iceland, from Michaelmas to Easter. During the summer months, the family are so scattered and the time of their returning from their various employments so different, that it is almost impossible for them to worship God in a collective capacity; yet there are many families whose piety is more lively and zealous, that make conscience of it the whole year round.

"One day I strolled up a rising ground behind the factory, and,

falling in with a dry and sheltered spot, I lay down on the grass. While my thoughts were engaged with some of the Psalms, I heard the notes of harmony behind; the which, on turning about, I found proceeded from a cottage at a little distance to the left. The inhabitants, consisting of two families, had collected together for the exercise of social worship, and were sending up the melodyofpraise to the God of salvation. This practice is universal in the island on the Sabbath-day. When there is no public service, the members of each family (or where there are more families than one they combine) join in singing several hymns, read the Gospel and Epistle for the day, a prayer or two, and one of Vidalin's Sermons. Where the Bible exists,] it is brought forward, and several chapters of it are read by the young people in the family."

This is the first account which this Christian traveller gives of these simple people. The other passage is at the close of his description of their mode of spending their long evenings. P. 368: "At the conclusion of the evening labours, the family join in singing a Psalm or two; after which a chapter from some book of devotion is read, if the family be not in possession of a Bible; but where this sacred Book exists, it is preferred to every other. A prayer is also read by the head of the family, and the exercise concludes with a Psalm. Their morning devotions are conducted in a similar manner at the lamp. When the Icelander awakes, he does not salute any person, but hastens to the door, and, lifting up his eyes towards heaven, adores Him who made the heavens and the earth, the Author and Preserver of his being, the Source of every blessing. He then returns into the house, and salutes every one he meets, with, 'God grant you a good day.'"-This pious conduct of the Icelander, when viewed in connexion with the awful scenery that

“Angels might stoop from thrones in heaven to be

surrounds him, is at once cha. racteristic and delightful. It bears so strong a resemblance to the character and habits of the Scotch

Co-worshippers in such a family ?"

But this is not a solitary instance, nor has the peculiar beauty of this national habit escaped_the_obser

peasant, as drawn by the lively pencil of the author of the Shepherd's Calendar, that I cannot bet-vation of the muse. The Poet of ter express my own feelings than in Scotland himself felt this to be one his language, "I know," he ob- of his native country's chief and serves, "of no scene so impressive purest excellences. Is it necessary as that of a family sequestered in a to mention "the Cotter's Saturday lone glen during the time of a win- Night?" or have not Burns' lovely ter storin. There they are left to stanzas already hurried over the the protection of Heaven, and they recollection, and brought full in know and feel it. Throughout all view a family, in which the wild vicissitudes of nature, they have no hope of assistance from man, but are conversant with the Almighty alone. Before retiring to rest, the shepherd uniformly goes

out to examine the state of the
weather, (apt emblem of the faith-
ful spiritual pastor; indeed, of every
Christian parent), in order to make
his report to the little dependent
group within.
Nothing is to be
seen but the conflict of the ele-
ments, nor heard but the raving of
the storm. Then they all kneel
around him, while he recommends
them to the protection of Heaven;
and though their little hymn of
praise can scarcely be heard even
by themselves, as it mixes with the
roar of the tempest, they never fail
to rise from their devotions with
their spirits cheered and their con-
fidence renewed, and go to sleep
with an exaltation of mind of which
kings and conquerors have no
share. Often have been a sharer
in such scenes, and never, even in
my youngest years, without having
my heart deeply impressed by the
circumstances. There is a subli-
mity in the very idea. There we
lived, as it were, inmates of the
cloud and the storm, but we stood
in a relationship to the Ruler of
these, that neither time nor eternity
can ever cancel. Woe to him
that would weaken the bonds with
which true Christianity connects us
with Heaven and each other!" Of
such a spectacle as this, is it too
much to say,

т

"Their cheerfu' supper done wi'serious
face,

They round the ingle form a circle wide,
The sire turns o'er wi' patriarchal grace,
The big ha-Bible. ance his father's

pride.

His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside;
His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare,
Those strains that once did sweet inZion
glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care,
And Let us worship God!' he says

with solemn air."

"Then, kneeling down to heaven's eternal King,

The saint, the father, and the husband prays!"

But I stop. Your readers must be familiar with the remainder of these exquisite lines: and if any of them are still strangers to the pure delights of social prayer, let them condescend to learn them from an Ayrshire cotter.

Or, if poetical authority of a still higher stamp be sought for, I would point to what are, perhaps, two of the most beautiful and finely-conceived passages of Milton's incomparable Paradise Lost. In the former he thus speaks of our first parents, while as yet they were unconscious of sin, and therefore approached as nearly as possible, in all their social rites, to the Divine will:

"As soon as sacred light began to

dawn

In Eden on the humid flowers, that breath'd

Their morning incense, when all things

that breathe

From the earth's great altar sent up si-
lent praise

To the Creator, and his nostrils fill
With grateful smell, forth came the hu-
man pair

And join'd their vocal worship to the

quire

Of creatures wanting voice!"

In the second they appear at their vespers.

"When at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood,

Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n,

And starry pole. Thou also mad'st the night,

Maker Omnipotent! And Thou, the day Which we, in our appointed work employ'd,

Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss

Ordain'd by Thee!"

Surely I need not say more in favour of a practice which, as we have seen, conduces to the piety and good order of families, to the discharge of relative duty, to the improvement of the young, to the morals of servants, and to the welfare of the community at large-a practice consonant to the will of God, and co-incident with the dictates of a well-informed judgment a practice, moreover, adorned by the recorded examples both of primi tive and of modern Christians in every station of life, from the very throne which he lately occupied whose loss we deplore, to the lowly cot of the pious peasant; nor need I add a syllable in proof how much it is to be wished that so pure and interesting a feature in the character of our ancestry should be universally discernible in our own.

FAMILY SERMONS.*-No. CXXXV.
Job v. 26.-" Thou shalt come to
thy
grave in a full age, like as a
shock of corn cometh in his sea-
son."

EVERY thing is beautiful in its sea-
son. We admire the playful ani-

Though some weeks have elapsed since the departure of our late revered

mation of youth at its prime, and
when glowing with health and vigor:
and even death itself, terrible as it
is at all times, is divested of its
greatest horrors when it makes its
approach in the gradual progress
of old age; when it gently leads,
ready matured for the sacrifice, and
not violently seizes, its victim, al-
meet the stroke.
bending, as it were, its head to

Of late years we have been called
to learn many a salutary lesson of
the shortness and uncertainty of
life, not only from the ordinary
but, from the most exalted ranks
of mankind: and the annals of
British royalty have furnished,
mortality in every stage of human
within a short period, instances of
existence, from infancy to youth,
from youth to manhood, and from
ed old age.
manhood up to enfeebled and wast-

cord the removal of a daughter, Within ten years we have to rethe ornament of her sex, and the pattern in life of those Christian upon her parting scene; and whose graces which shed a mild lustre loss is said to have mainly contributed to extinguish the last ray of intelligence in her illustrious but too susceptible father. Then followed, though at a considerable interval, a grand-daughter, the pride and hope of the British nation, and of whom it has been beautifully said, "that the Deity, after having conducted her to an eminence, from whence she could survey the glories of empire as her death." One inevitable stroke cut own, Himself closed her eyes in asunder the thread of life to the mother and the infant, and felled

Sovereign, we do not think our readers will require an apology for our making that event the ground-work of a Family Sermon. It is an occurrence which has spoken forcibly to us all, and we should not feel satisfied if this department of our pages did not record a humble attempt to point out some of the lessons which the dispensation seems calculated to enforce.

at once the parent tree, and the scion just about to take root.

Next in the melancholy catalogue, we have to enumerate our late venerable and lamented Queen, who, while she may have lived long enough for fame, had not lived too long for usefulness; and who sustained to the last her high character for conjugal fidelity and affection, for courtly manners and virtuous decorum. And now we have been lately called to perform the last rites to our aged and revered Monarch, while yet the knell had scarcely ceased to sound for his lamented son, whose manly and benevolent character, and general habits, most nearly resembled his own. That princely son has been deposited in the silent tomb. The following week, his royal sire was removed in funereal state to the same dark abode; and a Christian and loyal people gave vent to their feelings by devoting to sacred meditation and prayer, that day which saw carried to the house appointed for all living, the mortal remains of one who was not less distinguished for his magnanimity and justice as a sovereign, than for his piety and humility as a Christian. But however distressing the stroke which assembled us together on that day, it came to us freed from many aggravations which might have attended it, had it fallen at an earlier period. We are not now called to Jament over life cut short in the prime and vigor of usefulness, like corn blasted before it be grown up; but over old age, smoothly descending into the grave in peace, yielding itself up without a struggle or a sigh, and exemplifying in a remarkable degree the promise of the text, "Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season."

These words were originally spoken by Eliphaz in his conference with Job upon the subject of his multiplied sorrows: they must therefore, of course, be received with manyqualifications; and, though strikingly verified with respect to that early

patriarch-of whom it is reported, that "the Lord blessed his latter end more than his beginning," and that he died when old and full of days, and cheered by the sight of his numerous descendants, even to the fourth generation-yet they cannot be considered as generally true. Unmixed prosperity is seldom, at any age the lot of God's children: their Heavenly Parent knows too well the advantages of affliction, to withhold that loving correction which is intended to make them great; at the same time that be nicely adapts the trial to their acquired strength, or "makes a way for their escape that they may be able to bear it." But if ever the assertion of the text receives a full accomplishment, it must surely be in the case of those who, having humbly bowed to the discipline of their heavenly Teacher, have duly improved in the school of affliction. To them may be applied the words of the same speaker in another place, "Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth:" or those of the Apostle to a similar effect, "Behold, we count them happy which endure." The sorrows that are borne well, that are received with meekness, and applied to the purposes of increased self-knowledge, and a progressive advancement in holiness, will infallibly end well: they will be accompanied by present alleviation-they will terminate in future joy-and "he that now goeth on his way weeping, yet bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, bringing his sheaves with him." He that submits to bear the yoke in his youth, may reasonably expect, in one sense at least, to come to his grave in a good old age, to be adorned with a crown of righteousness, and to be gathered into the barn of the great husbandman, like a shock of corn ripe for the sickle, and in its proper season.

There is a figurative and a literal seuse in which the words of the text may receive their fulfilment, both of which it will be my object

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