my voice."* We read with grief, not unmingled with indignation, of the cunning plan of covering the hands and neck of Jacob with the skin of the kid, and thus counterfeiting the hairy Esau, by which Isaac was deceived. The words, "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau,"† must have been a sentence that thrilled through the consciences of mother and son. Their deception passed for the time, the special blessing was obtained, but then came the fearful consequences. Punishment followed quick on the domestic treason. And though the blessing, being originally designed by Providence for the younger son, was not withdrawn in consequence of the unjustifiable manner in which it was obtained, yet, doubtless, the deceit practised was followed by consequences that would never have resulted had the Lord's own way and time been submissively and faithfully waited for. The bitter anguish of Esau at the cruel injustice he had suffered, and the known impetuosity of his character, made the wretched mother entertain fears for the life of her favourite son. The dread of Esau's vengeance haunted her continually, and maternal vigilance penetrated into the vengeful thoughts of the ill-treated brother. "Esau thought in his heart," that after the days of mourning for his father were ended he would kill the "supplanter." With all haste Rebekah sent off her son Jacob to the habitation of her brother Laban, the home of her own + Ib. xxvii. 22. *Gen. xxvii. 12, 13. youth. It is worthy of note that the deceit practised on Isaac had destroyed mutual confidence between the parents of Esau and Jacob. Rebekah, keeping her fears in her agitated bosom, assigned as a reason for Jacob's departure that he should seek a wife among her kindred. Isaac acquiesced in the alleged reason. No allusion was made to the past,-but it is evident, confidence, the corner-stone of domestic happiness, was gone. We can well imagine the anxious, tender, erring mother's feelings, when her beloved son departed alone on his perilous journey: Esau alienated from her; Isaac, her husband, afflicted and estranged; his age embittered by household treachery; Jacob a lonely fugitive. How must remorse have preyed upon her heart! Hers was a grief she could confide to no one -a sorrow all the more unendurable because it was deserved and self-produced. And mark the sequel. She beheld her favourite son no more. She sent him away for a brief period, "a few days," as she fondly -hopefully expressed it; but long and weary years were appointed unto Jacob, and his mother's house was desolate. We hear, years after, of Jacob being reconciled to Esau, and of both sons piously uniting in the burial of their father Isaac ;* but of Rebekah we hear no more. This portion of holy writ is one of those narrations that should never be read by young persons without * Gen. xxxv. 27-29. an explanation and reference to consequences being given them. The moral is not obvious to the youthful mind, unless the miserable result is shown them in the maternal sorrows of Rebekah. Though Jacob acted under his mother's direction, and in obedience to her strict commands, he was not guiltless in the transaction, neither was he exempted from its consequences. There is every reason to believe that during his lonely journey a salutary selfexamination had led to repentance. Hence we read of his being favoured with the glorious dream of the heavenly ladder, and also the pious covenant so fervently entered into by Jacob :* "If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on; so that I come again to my father's house in peace: then shall the Lord be my God." Still, it is very instructive to mark that Jacob, during his after life, suffered much from the sin of deception being practised towards him. Thus, his father-in-law Laban cruelly deceived him in the first engagement he entered into with him; and, in his latter years, his own sons also united in a vile conspiracy to deceive him with reference to their brother Joseph. Thus the retributive hand of Providence often deals out to man, even in this world, that same measure of evil which he has meted out te others. *Gen. xxviii. 20. THE FOUNTAIN. A CONVERSATION. WE talked with open heart, and tongue Affectionate and true, A pair of friends, though I was young, And Matthew seventy-two. We lay beneath a spreading oak, Beside a mossy seat; And from the turf a fountain broke, And gurgled at our feet. "Now, Matthew!" said I, "let us match This water's pleasant tune With some old border-song, or catch, That suits a summer's noon; Or of the church clock and the chimes Sing here beneath the shade, In silence Matthew lay, and eyed "No check, no stay, this streamlet fears: How merrily it goes! 'Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. And here, on this delightful day, My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears The blackbird amid leafy trees, The lark above the hill, Let loose their carols when they please, Are quiet when they will. With Nature never do they wage A foolish strife; they see A happy youth, and their old age |