The Christmas season carries the mind back to the origin of our faith, and all the wondrous events connected with it. It has been made the time for gathering together family connections, and drawing closer those bands of kindred hearts, which the cares, and sorrows, and pleasures of the world are continually operating to cast loose; of calling back the members of a family who have launched forth into life, and wandered far asunder, once more to assemble around the parental hearth, that rallying place of the affections, there to grow young again among the endearing remembrances of childhood. And though this season is commonly devoted by the gay and the thoughtless to scenes of frivolous mirth, thus diverting the attention from the contemplation of the glorious event which the observance of Christmas Day is designed to commemorate, yet that circumstance should not deter the pious Christian from availing himself of the opportunity which national custom affords of mingling in the friendly circle, and partaking of its innocent gratifications. The spirit of our religion neither requires us to shut ourselves up in a monastery, nor practise the austerities of a recluse; but while it purifies the affections, and throws a salutary restraint upon the appetites and passions, it permits us to enjoy the comforts and the felicity of social intercourse. It teaches moderation, but does not prohibit indulgence; it condemns levity, but sanctions cheerfulness; and, like its illustrious Author, it does not hesitate to attend the festive gathering, when hallowed by the influences of pious friendship and domestic love.
Fully two years had now elapsed since my return from Fairmount, and during the interval I had been engaged in close and unremitting attention to the care of my flock, and I believe I may say, without undue exultation, that my labours had been blessed. I frequently corresponded with my country friends, and when, in the close of 18—, Mr. Stevens sent me a pressing invitation to spend the Christmas with him, I resolved, after securing a suitable substitute in my absence, to proceed to Watville, along with Mr. Llewellin, who was to accompany me on my visit. We left London by the stage coach on a fine frosty morning, the 23d of December, and as evening was closing in we reached Salisbury, where we were to pass the night, Mr. Llewellin having some business to transact there. Our journey was exceedingly pleasant. After emerging from the smoke and bustle of London, we passed through a beautiful country, attractive even in winter, the aspect of which was all the more delightful to me from my long previous confinement to a city. We travelled the greater part of the way with two young gentlemen, who were going home to spend the vacation. They were brothers, of nearly equal age—the one destined for the profession of the law, the other for the church. The elder boy was sprightly, the younger somewhat grave; both were very agreeable and intelligent. With the happy buoyancy of youth ere its day-dreams are dispelled by the sad experience of maturer years, the present was to them a joyous reality, only to be exceeded by the realization of the bright visions of the future. Their conversation was the complete overflow of youthful spirits, rejoicing in the release from school discipline, and the prospect of again meeting their friends, and returning for a time to all their country recreations. They also alluded to their prospects in life—of their success, in which no desponding thought had as yet ever crossed their minds; but, though thus sanguine in their anticipations, they possessed too much good sense to suppose that distinction could be attained without industry, or honour acquired without desert.
"I suppose, young gentlemen," said Mr. Llewellin, "you intend to devote your holidays to amusement."
"Not entirely," said the young lawyer; "I intend to read history at least two hours every morning;" "and I intend," said the young divine, "to con over the classics as long, and then, Sir, to amuse myself."
"I am happy to hear," added Mr. Llewellin, "that you have come to such a decision; while your recreations unbend your minds from the severity of close application, the adoption of such a habit will keep them in trim for future service."
"Very true," replied the lawyer; "if we wish to rise to eminence, we must redeem time, rather than suffer it to be wasted in indolence and inactivity."
The young clergyman, who was looking out of the window, suddenly exclaimed, "Here's old William standing at the gate with our horses, and yonder is papa coming on Smiler across the close."
The coach stopped, and out stepped our interesting companions, who, after bidding us adieu, left us to pursue our journey alone. We soon lost sight of them, but, in the space of a few minutes, a turn in the road revealed them again to our view; their father, alighting from his horse, joyfully embraced his children, after which they all mounted their steeds, and we watched them galloping off towards a beautiful country-seat, which we had been admiring before our young friends left us, but then had no idea that it was their destination.
The stage now drove on, and about five o'clock we were rattling through the streets of Salisbury, where, after refreshing ourselves at our inn, Mr. Llewellin sallied forth to transact the business matter which had led us to take this route, and I ensconced myself comfortably by the side of a blazing fire, where I commenced reading Cheever's Wanderings of a Pilgrim, then just published. The charms of the narrative entranced me, and I gradually lost myself, crossing the pass of the Grand St. Bernard to the charming Val d'Aoste, or sailing on the romantic Lake of Luzern. Mr. Llewellin was detained for several hours; I accordingly had time to traverse a considerable part of Switzerland in company with my pilgrim. He at length appeared, and we shortly afterwards retired to rest. On getting up in the morning I proposed a walk to the cathedral, as we had some time to spare before the coach started. On reaching it (the hour for morning service not having yet arrived) we found the attendants busy decking the cathedral with evergreens for the ensuing day. Though both Mr. Llewellin and myself were decided Dissenters, we could nevertheless well appreciate the majesty of the noble structure in which we were now standing, and feel even something of a religious awe as we gazed down the long aisles, and listened to the echo of our footsteps as they reverberated through the building.