CHRISTMA S.* [DECEMBER 25, 1831.] THIS is the festival of the Christian Church, observed annually on the 25th day of December, in memory of the birth of Christ. Originally, it was strictly regarded by Christians as a holy day-and not as a mere holiday, as it is now but too generally esteemed by the mass of our people. Why, or by what imperceptible gradations, it has thus degenerated into a season of levity and mirth and frolic, I shall not attempt to explain. It is grateful to the pious heart to know that the day is not thus universally desecrated; and that, among many denominations of Christians, the sublime object of its primitive institution is still kept in view. The nativity and advent of the glorious Son of God is surely the most stupendous miracle of divine goodness and mercy which has ever yet been witnessed by the intelligent creation of the Almighty. To commemorate such an event is a privilege not to be too highly appreciated-and therefore not to be slighted without more than ordinary criminality. If ever there be occasion for pious gratitude, for holy aspirations, and for fervent hallelujas of praise, it is on the annual return of that ever-memorable day * Printed in the National Banner, December 27, 1831, over the signature of G. F. G. which beheld the brightness of the Father's glory veiled in humanity, and appearing as a messenger of peace and love, of pardon and reconciliation, among the wretched and guilty children of men. The tear of joy indeed may bedew the cheek of the admiring but self-condemned worshipper at Immanuel's feet-and loud anthems of devout thanksgiving may ascend to heaven from the lips of the assembled congregation:-but what heart can be indifferent or unmoved, or disposed to idle sportiveness or sinful pleasure at such a season? Oft have I entered the consecrated temple of the Most High on this hallowed anniversary, and participated in silence but with unspeakable emotions, in all the solemn acts of praise and adoration, with which some Christians are wont to celebrate a Saviour's marvellous incarnation and infinite condescension. Whether it be religion, or superstition, or sentiment, or early association, or constitutional infirmity-I stop not to inquire. It is to me an occasion of delightful and vivid, though mournful excitement. Is there joy in grief-light in darkness— comfort in sorrow-peace in conflict-hope in despondency? Here it is that I seem to realize more than the poet's dream, and to rise above the perils and miseries which flesh is heir to. On Sunday morning last (Christmas) I instinctively directed my steps (as in happier days) to the Episcopal Church, and seated myself in a retired corner of the gallery, where I could conveniently see and hear whatever was likely to command or deserve attention. The church itself, with all its interior arrangements, is a beautiful object, and is, at any time, worthy of notice. Then, it was tastefully ornamented with evergreens in the manner which venerable usage has, from the earliest ages of the church, rendered familiar and grateful to the eye. After a momentary glance at the scenery, and perceiving that the decorations had been got up after the good old orthodox fashion, I felt prepared to yield myself without reserve to the soothing and exalting influences which the varied services of the church, when well performed, are so admirably calculated to exert. Nor were my almost romantic anticipations marred or disappointed. The song of praise, accompanied by the deep-toned organ-the sacred lessons of the day judiciously read-the voice of prayer, distinct, solemn, impressive, devout - (and such prayers and confessions-the very language of penitence and sup plication!)—and then the appropriate sermon by the able, pious and eloquent rector-all conspired to make me feel that an hour thus spent in the courts of the Lord is better than a thousand days or years vainly wasted in the tents or habitations of wickedness and folly. Oh, si sic omnes! P.S.-I must here take leave-and I hope to give no offence to animadvert upon a practice which is exceedingly annoying and unbecoming, to say the least of it. Persons of different ages and sizes-principally boys and young men-were constantly coming in and going out of the galleries, during the whole period of divine service. This practice prevails, I believe, to a shameful extent in all our churches. Parents ought to teach their rude boys better manners: and young gentlemen may be reminded that common politeness requires them to behave with respectful decorum in every place of worship, and never to disturb an audience by an unnecessary word or movement. They ought to enter the church before the service commences, and never to leave it until after the benediction is pronounced. Again, some gentlemen keep their hats on until they reach their pews-and put them on again as soon as they begin to retire. Would any gentleman wear his hat into the midst of a lady's drawing-room? This sort of hattishness seems peculiar to certain sections of our country. The first time I ever saw a man march up the aisle of a church with his hat on, (it was in Western Virginia, and the individual referred to was an elder and the chorister,) I was as much surprised as if he had made his entree on horseback. Since that period, I have often seen the preacher fairly mount the pulpit before he doffed his beaver. THE AMERICAN IS A SPITTING ANIMAL.* Ar a late meeting of the Synod of West Tennessee, the subject of chewing, smoking, and snuffing tobacco was gravely discussed: and the use of this noxious weed, in each of the above modes, was finally condemned, I believe, without a dissenting voice. Many curious facts and anecdotes were well told on the occasion; and the deleterious influence of tobacco on the human system was ably demonstrated and aptly illustrated by both clergymen and physicians. I shall not attempt to detail the particulars, nor to report any of the speeches. I refer the ignorant and the skeptical, however, for information, to the luminous pages of our own Dr. Rush and of the English Dr. Clarke, the divine. The habit of spitting acquired and rendered unavoidable by the practice of chewing tobacco, is so offensive to all well-bred people as to excite some surprise that gentlemen should continue it. To what extent the hospitable citizens of New York and Philadelphia are annoyed in this respect by their Western friends, whenever the latter travel Eastward, can scarcely be conceived by any who have not resided in one or the other * Printed in the Nashville Herald, December 29, 1831, over the signature of F. G. F. VOL. III.-44 (623) |