This champion is ravaging our beloved country, and seducing her sons of freedom to the disgraceful ranks of slavery and oppression. Intemperance is that tyrant that has under his control many formidable evils that infest the world. His boasted labor is to hurry on thousands of victims to the commission of crime, and bring down upon them the many misfortunes that attend man in this mutable world. Intemperance involves public broils, tumults and disturbances, and domestic discord, misery and strife.
We trust the number among our readers is small, who are so regardless of a good name as to have abandoned themselves to the intoxicating bowl, or who have sundered all the ties of moral obligation, determined to tread the downward path of vice to a disgraceful tomb. We hope they have a higher regard to the invaluable worth of a good name; and we pray that they may venerate its price far above the momentary glitter of silver and gold. That shall live, when wealth shall have lost its lustre, and flourish immortal, when gold shall have corroded to dust.
Blasphemy is another unreasonable vice against which the public speaker or writer should raise his voice. And let no one flatter himself because we believe in the universal and unbounded goodness of God, that a man may go on as he please. So long as a Being of infinite wisdom is enthroned in the heavens and governs the universe, so long he can never fail to measure out to every offence its adequate punishment, and has all the means at his disposal to bring it unavoidably upon the head of every transgressor. He, who flatters himself that he can sin with impunity, is ignorant of the government of his God, and has never reflected upon human life in all its varied lights and shades. Do you profess to be a Universalist, and yet treat with irreverence the name of HIM who made you, and whom you acknowledge to be a faithful Creator—an indulgent Father? Your professions are nothing. "He that hath this hope in him purifieth himself even as he is pure." That very breath by which he inflates the lungs, can you breathe it back in blasphemies against his holy name, which angels never pronounce but with veneration and awe? Choose, O choose a good name, which can only be obtained by choosing a virtuous course of conduct. However lightly you may treat your own station in life, or however much you may disregard the dignity of your nature, yet remember the station you hold, however obscure, is stamped with responsibility. You are surrounded by a generation of youth, among whom are your own children, ready to imitate your example. Do you wish them well! Then guard your heart and life by setting a reasonable value on a good name, and remember you cannot move without touching some string that may vibrate long after your head rests on its cold pillow of earth.
"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold." Prov. xxii:1.
In this discourse we shall more fully show why "a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches."
Though wealth is desirable, and in many instances conducive to human happiness, because it puts it in our power to relieve the wants and distresses of our fellow creatures, yet it does not possess the charm to convey unbroken peace or solid joy to any bosom. The value, of anything within the range of human action, is to be estimated by its usefulness in promoting the happiness of man. That, which pours the most numerous and refined enjoyments into the soul, is to be considered of the greatest worth; and that, which has a tendency to bring upon us the most alarming miseries, misfortunes and woes, is of course the most worthless. The one is to be fondly chosen and pursued in proportion to its worth in administering to our enjoyments, and the other is to be avoided in proportion to its unhappy effects in multiplying our sorrows. This being an undeniable fact, the superlative value of a good name, procured by a virtuous course of conduct, appears, at once, to transcend all other considerations: A pure unsullied conscience before heaven is the most permanent bliss that a rational being can enjoy, and is of that enduring nature which no earthly power or misfortune can destroy. It supports us in the hour of adversity and trial; it comforts us in the dark hour of sorrow; it remains unmoved amids the storms of life, and lights up the smile of satisfaction on the lips of the dying.
Nor is this all. It affords us other unruffled streams of unmingled felicity in the common intercourse of life. The approbation of the wise and the good, the confidence and esteem of our friends and associates, and the good opinion even of the vicious, are considerations of no ordinary moment. They awaken emotions in the heart of the most pleasing gratification, and open in the soul all the avenues of heaven-born felicity, imparting that peace, which this world can neither give nor take away. But as it respectswealth, we would remark, that though it may communicate happiness by enabling us to relieve the wants of our fellow creatures, and afford us many joys in the indulgence of our benevolence, yet it cannot of itself communicate happiness, but virtue can. A wicked and unprincipled man is wretched, though he roll in all the wealth and splendors that earth can give. He feels in his bosom aburning flame, that all the streams of wealth can never quench, and acraving desire, that nought on earth can gratify. If his "great riches" afford him any enjoyments, yet these are by no means permanent and lasting. The desolating flame may lay them in ruins—the storms on the ocean may sink them in its waves—the famine or blighting mildew may wither them forever, and leave him stript of all his fancied joys. But nothing of this can happen to virtue. That remains forever unharmed amidst the shocks of earth. A good name is, therefore, of inconceivably more value than riches and rather to be chosen than silver and gold.
We are formed for society. God in beginning said, "it is not good that man should be alone." This being a fact, which all past experience, and the history of our whole race demonstrate, it is, therefore, equally true, that our dearest enjoyments flow from the social affections and from a sincere cultivation of the social intercourse of life. There is, perhaps, not a human being in existence, who would accept of all the wealth of the Indies on the condition that he should not be respected by a single individual on earth. This circumstance shows us, in noonday light, the superior value of a good name above all the glittering appendages of wealth. Every man is beloved and esteemed in proportion to his goodness and usefulness in the world, particularly by those with whom he associate in life. If then tolove and be beloveddepend on our conduct in the world, and if at the same time, our happiness is derived from the exercise of reciprocal affection, we see the importance of pitching upon that course of life, which alone can secure those solid pleasures resulting from a well spent life.
Too many persons suppose, they can be happy in sin; yes, even in criminal indulgence. But that transgressor was never yet found, who could point to a single wicked act in his life, the remembrance of which ever imparted one solitary gleam of joy to his heart. They may fancy there is happiness in sin; but here is the deception. It is immaterial what some may preach aboutthe pleasures of sin, andthe satisfaction the transgressor often takes in a wicked course, yet all this amounts to nothing so long as the voice of heaven declares, "THERE IS NO PEACE, SAITH MY GOD, TO THE WICKED." Infinite wisdommust know, and infinite wisdom,has giventhe decision, and that decision is stamped with immortality, and from it there is no appeal. If we impress the sinner with the idea that he is not punished and rewardedhere, but that the whole is to be settled in the future world, then we, in the same proportion, weaken the force of virtue andstrengthenthe cause of vice. And this is one obvious reason, why men continue in sin, as long as they dare, expecting at some future day to repent and escapeall punishment. They go on from day to day, and from year to year, with all the thunders of endless and immortal pain sounded in their ears, and even believing it true, yet continue to indulge in sin. Would they run such an awful risk, unless, by a certain course of education, they had been made to believe that there was happiness in transgression? No. If they believed that sin had nought to impart but misery, they would abandon it for itsown sake; because happiness is the object of all men. They have, therefore, by some means or other, been led to the strange infatuation, that sin possesses some secret charm to communicate that happiness to the soul, for which every bosom throbs. This fancied happiness, they vainly imagine, they can obtain by wallowing in the dark waters of iniquity, be happyhere, then repent at last, and be happyhereafter. As they pass along in their wretched career, expecting every moment to grasp the fancied pleasure, yet the fond, anticipated phantom flies from their embrace and leaves them in the ruin of their joy. Though disappointed again and again, yet firmly believing that there is happiness in sin, they again push on, and thus far attribute their want of success to some miscalculation. Insensible of the nature of sin, blinded and self-deceived, they go on in pursuit of pleasure, while golden dreams of false felicity fire their imaginations, till at last, age places them on the verge of the grave; their object no nearer attained than it was the day they set out, while habit has fixed them in a course, that has yielded them nothing but sorrow and pain, and vanity and vexation of spirit. Stung with remorse, and pierced through with many sorrows, they breathe a repentance, which, the nature of their condition, forces upon them, are perhaps pronouncedconverted, and they sink into the darkness of death! Their names, covered with infamy, are soon blotted from the remembrance of the living!
We observed, a moment ago, that the idea, of holding up a retribution in the future world, weakens the force of virtue, and strengthens the cause of vice. This has, perhaps, been abundantly shown in the arguments already offered as being manifest in the daily conduct of men; yet we will, in a word, bring the subject plainly before you. To persuade a sinner that he is to be punished in thefutureworld for his sins inthis, is plainly saying that sin has many pleasures and convenienceshere, and so far as it failed of rendering him his due desert, the balance is to be made up in another state of being. Because the balance of punishment due himthere, is to make up thedeficiencyof punishment, which sin did not pay him here. And certainly, so far as sin did not pay himhere, he must have been happy in its commission. And theexpectation, that he should be happy in ithere, was thevery causethat induced him to continue in transgression, with the expectation of repenting and escaping punishmenthereafter. Thus he flattered himself, that he could sin with impunity, and escape its punishment in this world and the world to come.
And to satisfy a man that he is to be rewarded in thefutureworld for his righteousness inthisbut persuading him, that virtue is attended with misery, and that so far as it failed to rewardhere, the balance is to be made uphereafter. Because the balance of happiness due to himthere, is to make up the deficiency of happiness which virtue did not pay himhere. And so far as virtue did not pay him here, must have been miserable in its practice. And the impression that sin is productive of many enjoyments, and that righteousness is attended with misery, has a tendency to make him choose theformerand reject thelatter, and trust to a future repentance.
We often hear it proclaimed by those, who profess to be the guardians of the public morals, that the righteous have a hard course in warring against the corruptions of their heart, in the service of God, while the sinner goes on unconcerned and easy in the pleasures of sin. In doing this they defeat the very object, they are striving to obtain, which is theconversionof the sinner. These very impressions are one obvious reason why so many continue in sin and reject the path of righteousness and peace, which alone conducts to a good name, that is of more worth than great riches, and more durable than silver and gold.
As then there is no happiness in vice, as all its allurements are deceptive and vain, how important that we should shun it, and pursue that bright path of virtue and peace, which will lead to the invaluable possession of a good name. Engaging in the cultivation of all the better affections of the heart, we shall by habit so refine our natures, that "loving favor" will take entire possession of our minds, and mould them into the spotless image of heaven.Thisloving favor is rather to be chosen than silver and gold, for these will corrupt, and at last crumble into dust, whilethisshall survive the ruins of death, and flourish in those peaceful realms, where our felicity will be unbroken and perpetual.
Flatter not yourselves with the vain hope, that there is one solitary thrill of joy in the indulgence of sin. He, who indulges in dissipation and vice—he, who slanders his neighbor, who wrongs his fellow men, or even utters one oath against the unsullied name of his Maker, is a most profound unbeliever in the sentiment we proclaim. He, who possesses a hope so full of immortality as to believe, that God will finally save from sin, and bless him and all his fellow men, will cleanse his hands and wash them in innocency. Tell me not that you are a Universalist, when the very oceans of God's goodness do not affect your heart, nor lead you to repentance. He, who is satisfied that there is no happiness in sin, will abandon it. He, who deliberately pursues a vicious course, expects to find happiness in it; and it is impossible that he believes in God'suniversal grace. It is absolutely impossible in the very nature of things, that he can be a UNIVERSALIST. A salvation from sin is the doctrine of the Bible, and holiness itself heaven. He, who believes such a salvation to be happifying, will abandon sin, as the enemy of his peace, and seek righteousness, which alone can afford him tranquillity. Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven is righteousness and peace. If you wish to satisfy men that youreallydesire the whole human family to meet in heaven, then show your sincerity by being righteous yourself.
A sincere Universalist believes sin to be the cause of many mental woes that darken the world, and the principal cause of the greater proportion of sufferings that fall to the lot of man. He believes that a virtuous course of conduct, guided by the burning lamp of revelation, leads to those joys that time cannot sully, nor the hand of death extinguish. A conviction of this truth leads him to hate sin, to forsake its dark dominions, and enter those fields of felicity, where the brilliant beams of virtue shed a cloudless day. Here he walks and enjoys an antepast of heaven. Its paths are the paths of peace. All its ways are pleasantness and delight. Its crystal streams are pure and sweet; its breezes healthful and its fruits delicious. He believes God to be the father of his creatures—that he governs the world in wisdom and mercy—that he created with a benevolent intention, and that he is not disappointed in the workmanship of his hand, but presides over just such a world as he designed it should be. He believes that this order of things, though dark to him, is designed for good, and shall terminate in the happiness of all. He believes that all rewards and punishments are instituted for some benevolent end, and that this end, will be brought about in such a manner as to manifest to all, the divine perfections in the clearest light, and shed unfading glory on the supreme Majesty of heaven. This faith gives him confidence in his heavenly Father, and fills his heart with gratitude and veneration. It leads him to look upon the human family as his brethren, and to do them good. He seeks their happiness, and thus chooses and merits a good name.
At peace with all mankind, his mind irradiated with light and enlarged with the most noble conceptions of the divine character and government, bout, he at length lies down in peace and composure upon his dying bed, and gently breathes out—
"Farewell conflicting joys and fears,Where light and shade alternatedwell;A brighter, purer scene appears,Farewell inconstant world, farewell!"
He sweetly sinks to rest, and leaves behind him a good name, that can never die, and an example, for others to imitate, worth more than fortunes in gold. His memory shall survive, when the tomb, on which it is inscribed, shall crumble into ruin, and his example be a light to future generations.
"Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." Romans xii. 16.
That mysterious and incomprehensible Being, who gave us existence, has sown in our nature the seeds of mortality. By the irresistiblelawsof his empire which he has, from the beginning,establishedfor the regulating of the animal creation, we are soon to be carried to the silent grave. All, without exception, are formed out of equal clay, are subject to the same hopes and fears, joys and sorrows while on earth, and are all destined to the slumbers of death, where we must exhibit the emblem of perfect equality. Immaterial how far one may exalt himself above another while passing through this momentary existence—immaterial how far he may rise above his fellow men in the scale of intellect and refinement—immaterial how exalted the station he may have obtained—how brilliant the powers of his imagination may sparkle, or how soft and sublime his eloquence may flow—immaterial how nobly soever he may dazzle in the sunny smiles of fortune, or how secure he may repose in the fond embrace of friends, yet it is a melancholy truth, that he must, sooner or later, resign the whole, let go his eager grasp on all those pleasing joys, bid an everlasting farewell to those exalted splendors, and descend to the dark shades of death, where the rich and the poor, the servant and his master, the oppressor and oppressed, all lie mouldering and forgotten together.
This solemn consideration, it seems, when forcibly presented to the mind, ought to be sufficient to check the levity of man—to soften his bosom to his fellow beings—to moderate his desire in pursuit of wealth and greatness, and completely to unarm him of all hostile feelings towards those with whom he associates, and with whom he is so soon to lie down in death. This, it seems, is sufficient to make us of one heart and mind in promoting each other's happiness and welfare in the world, and to make us obedient to the exhortation of the text, not to mind the high things of earth, but to condescend to men of low estate. But such is the strange infatuation of man, that he acts as though his residence on earth were eternal, and as though the whole errand of life consisted in providing for an eternity below.
We are capacitated for enjoyments of a higher and more perfect nature than we can attain to on earth. Of this we are sensible from the fact, that there is no condition in which we can be placed here below, that is so adapted to our nature as to afford us permanent satisfaction. Uninterrupted felicity is not a plant of earth. It cannot flourish in a clime where the blighting storms of malice and envy wither all that is fair, sweet and blooming. And though we are sensible that such is the fact, yet, deaf to all that experience, example and observation conspire to teach, we are exerting all our powers to obtain it here below, where the united voice of earth and heaven assure us it cannot be found. We cast our eyes around us, and see the human family in every varied condition of life from the beggar on his bed of straw, up to the king in regal splendor on the throne of nations; but in defiance of this immense distinction, they alike breathe the deep sigh of discontent. We also cast our eyes over the historic page, and scan the general fate of man in by-gone ages; but here too, we learn the same lesson, that noexternal conditionhas ever added to the rational enjoyments of the soul. We see the same uneasiness, the same longing desires pervade every bosom. Our object is happiness; and amidst all the various pursuits of life, what is the reason so many fail of obtaining it? The answer is readily given. We make riches, honors and the high things of the earth our chief pursuit and aim, and fondly imagine that our happiness lies in them. Here is our error. Man is destined to a world of mental felicity, where those external pursuits of fortune will be unknown; where all that he here pursues with so much eagerness will be removed from his desires forever, and where all the channels of the soul will be opened to the true fountain of felicity and completely ravished in its flowing streams. In order, therefore, to enjoy that happiness, in this momentary state of being, which God has placed within our reach, we must make mental felcity the main pursuit of life, and the riches and conveniences of earth our secondary pursuit. We must completely reverse our conduct in order to obtain those rational enjoyments, that flow from the virtuous habits and dispositions. We must, as Jesus says, "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you."
Food and raiment are all that we can enjoy of the external comforts of life. All other enjoyments must be of a mental character. Secure first your mental joys, a pure unsullied conscience in the punctual discharge of all your social and relative duties to mankind, and be you rich or poor, you will be happy. The righteous discharge of this first great duty will not embarrass you in obtaining the comforts of life, but on the contrary aid you. A peaceable and honest course of conduct towards others—a condescension to men of low estate—a due respect for the opinions and rights of others, will endear you to all, and not only foster in your bosom the seeds of peace and contentment, but will conduct you in the surest path to wealth and honor. The mental powers of the soul are all that exalt our capacity for happiness above a brutal creation. And if our chief happiness lies in gold, which can only minister to our animal wants, then the brutes can vie with us in all the solid enjoyments of life. In fact, they can go beyond us. They graze the turf, and drink the unmingled stream free from anxiety and care. While man, the lord of this lower creation, has to toil and gain the same enjoyments by the sweat of his brow.
But what a groveling thought to bring our exalted natures and capacities for happiness down to a level with theirs! On this principle, he who is the most wealthy is the most happy. Virtue is but a name, and all the exalted principles of noble and godlike action are but the reveries of fancy, and to practice them is but a visionary dream. No, my friends, wealth supplies our animal wants, and if virtue be wanting, it leaves our minds in wretched starvation and our brightest joys in night! Happiness is equally attainable by the rich and the poor. It consists in a union of heart among mankind, in a union of action in the pursuit of virtue, and in the kindlier feelings of our nature. In fine, it consists in a willing obedience to the exhortations of our text: "Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate."
To each of these exhortations, we will give a candid and solemn consideration. In this sermon, we will attend to the exhortation—"Be of the same mind one towards another." By this, we are not to understand that men are to be of one heart and mind in pursuing the same occupation or profession in life, but of one mind in endeavoring to promote each other's happiness in every condition in which they may be placed—of one mind in the practice of christian duty, and in the exercise of charity. Selfishness produces many jarring interests among mankind, bursts the bands of brotherhood asunder, and weakens the strength of that nation, society or family among which it exists, and in proportion to the opposition it produces among its individual members. "United, we stand, divided we fall," is a maxim full of wisdom, and is not only applicable to nations, but to communities, societies, and even to families.
A family in discord is a sight over which angels might weep, but when united in one heart and mind, it is a picture over which heaven smiles. The fond and doating father, the tender and affectionate mother, and obedient children, all united in peace and harmony, present to the mind those pleasing conceptions of the reconciled family immortal, that cause us to feel all the burning emotions of which the heart is susceptible. In such society as this, are enjoyed the happiest moments of our existence—moments unmingled with the bitterness of regret, unsullied by the corroding hand of time, unruffled by the perplexing cares of life, and undarkened by the tempests of indisposition. Is such a father absent—far distant on land or ocean where duty calls? The heart of his family goes with him, and he too leaves his heart lingering behind. His companion counts the moments as they slowly roll—is faithful to his interests—makes preparation to receive him—sighs for his safe return, and welcomes him home with those emotions of ecstatic joy, that cause him to forget his past labors, toils and dangers. Is he stretched upon a bed of pain? Unwearied she sits beside him, hushes every sound that might interrupt his broken slumbers, and watches every breath he draws. She whispers to him the soothing words of encouragement and consolation— gives neither sleep to her eyes, nor slumber to her eyelids, but is the guardian angel of his pillow.
When all human aid has failed—when the pulse beats faint—the once sparkling eye grows dim and rolls faint and languid in its socket, she stands mute and pensive at his dying bed. Her whole soul is absorbed in the interest of the scene and rent with agony. She wipes the cold sweat of death from his face, gazes with exquisite anxiety till the last dreadlful struggle is over, and breathes to the throne of mercy the prayer of affection for the repose of his spirit. And so feels the kind husband over his companion, indulgent parents over their dying children, and dutiful children over their parents.
But it is a lamentable circumstance, a painful consideration, that there are too many unhappy divisions in the domestic circle. Yes, it is a painful consideration indeed, that those, who are so nearly allied to each other, should, even for one moment, indulge in feelings of acrimony. It is but a short time, at longest, that we can be together, and such unhappy divisions must render the parting scene, at the bed of death, doubly painful. Thoughtless, giddy or oppressive as we may be to those, who are near to us in life, while blooming health is their lot, yet righteous heaven has so constituted our natures, that the most painful reminiscences will force themselves upon the mind when the injured object, to whom we have given distress, is upon a dying bed. Every unkind word, every harsh treatment, the whole dark picture our ungenerous conduct will present itself to the imagination in all its naked woes. And be that dying one a parent, a companion, a child, their very silence, as thy turn upon us a languid eye fading in death, will harrow up every painful recollection. O! if we wish to tread upon their graves with an unsullied conscience before heaven, let us be of one mind, live in peace, and discharge, to them, those sacred duties of kindness and affection, which the ties, that bind them to us, enjoin.
This world is too much made up of appearances. Many a family, which we suppose to be the abode of union, peace and joy, is distracted with the voice of discord, and is dragging out an existence in secret, concealed grief. Many a husband and wife, who, we suppose, are of one heart and mind and passing their days in the sunshine of peace and love, are torn by secret broils, and whose mansion stands overcast with the dark shadows of discontent and misery. Little do we dream of the secret woes, that rend many a worthy heart concealed behind a smiling countenance. The husband is perhaps stern and unrelenting—and will, in no case, yield to the wishes of his companion. Discouragement and anger may perhaps at times take possession of the heart. In such a case, instead of treating her kindly, he rouses into a passion himself, and a private contention ensues. This is a wretched practice, for instead of extinguishing the flame, it adds fuel to the fire, and consumes all that is fair and lovely in matrimonial and domestic life. Much misery might be avoided by observing the following rule. When the one is melancholy, let the other be rationally cheerful, and endeavor to divert the attention from the subject that causes gloom. When the one is angry, let the other keep a perfect equanimity and a benign composure of countenance. Then watch the opportunity, and in some future day, when the offended one is most cheerful and kind, then bring forward the subject, and expostulate most feelingly on the impropriety of indulging a wrathful spirit to a bosom friend. Speak of the shortness of life and point each other to the silent grave and to the parting scene, and vengeance, anger and discontent will soon be strangers in your habitation. Your dear children, from the very dawnings of intellect, will take the example, grow up in harmony and affection with perfect rule over their spirit, and thus you will not only secure your own domestic peace, but will bequeath those sacred enjoyments to your posterity—enjoyments that infinitely outweigh a thousand fortunes in gold! Let others toil to leave their offspring wealth, we ours the joy to bequeath them this. We ask no more.
We are not only to be of the same mind one towards another in our families but in our religious societies. Here all selfishness ought to be discarded, all private interests sacrificed, all hostile feelings subdued, and the whole offered on the altar of genuine good, and thus the harmony, peace and prosperity of the whole body consulted. The permanent security of these depend on the individual conduct of the members. By uniting ourselves in a religious body, we express the necessity of living a sober life, maintaining a union of heart and a respectful conversation towards all with whom we associate in life. Let us not dream that heaven will prosper us above others, if we also blaspheme the name of Him who gave us life and sustains us in being. Let us lay aside every evil, that has a tendency to disunion, and live soberly and righteously in the world, doing good unto all as we have opportunity.
[The reader will find this subject continued in our next number.]
"Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." Romans xii. 16.
Having from the commencement of these sermons confined myself to prescribed limits, I had no room in my last to pursue the first division of my subject so far as I intended. I will therefore here resume it.
"Be of the same mind, one towards another." We have thus far confined our attention to family union, and have just glanced at the necessity of union in religious societies. This is a day of inquiry and light when the most keen and searching glances are sent into every creed. Many denominations that have walked together heart and hand for many years, each repelling the assaults of those, who attempted to extinguish their ism, have at length been separated by internal divisions and formed two opposing parties, even though they once believed thesame creed, and advocated thesame church government. The present is a trying period, and it stands us in hand to endeavor to "keep the unity of the spirit in the bonds of peace." Let us not dream of religious union, and prosperity, unless we allow each one to think for himself in matters of scripture interpretation. Nor let us dream of prosperity, if there is among us more theory than practice. It is true, Universalists are as moral as any other denomination; but this is not enough. They ought inkindness and benevolenceto transcend other denominations as far, as their doctrine of universal beniguity transcends the doctrine of unending wo.
Neither are we to dream of religious union and prosperity, unless we raise our united voices against those who revel over the flowing cup of intoxication, which pours so many streams of misery and disunion on the world. Let no one fancy to himself that the drunkards toast, "here is health and success to us!" has any charm to avert his ruin, or to stay the judgment of heaven. The more frequently that toast has been uttered, while smiling upon the cup of inebriation held in a trembling hand, the farther have health and success been removed from the deluded victim, and the more swift and deadly have misfortune, sickness, distress and pain fallen upon him. Intemperance is a demon, that sows the seeds of discord among all ranks, orders and conditions of men. Beneath his crushing hand creation reels, and fortunes fall in broken ruins! And peace the sweet angel of mercy flies these turbulent skies, and lights on realms unmoved by the hand of commotion and discord. At his approach, blooming health is driven back from its warm abode and the fairest flowers of domestic love, hope and joy are withered forever! Let this frightful foe of discord and confusion be barred from our sacred heritage and peace be within our borders.
We are not only to be of one heart and one mind in resisting profanity and intemperance, but in resisting tale-bearing. Let us not speak evil of others. This is beneath the character of a gentleman, and certainly beneath that of a christian: consequently no gentleman or christian will indulge in it. It is the employment oflow, ill-bred minds, and therefore none will engage in it, but those who are destitute of reputation themselves. This vice has no excuse, and must therefore originate in thebasestmotives. They intend to bring their fellow creatures down to a level with themselves, and thus lessen them in the good opinion of others, and destroy their peace. And though they may effect their object so far as the good opinion of the virtuous is calculated to give us happiness, yet the approbation of a good conscience, arising from the conviction of innocency, can never he rooted from the heart of its possessor by all the calumnies of earth.ThisGod has secured in all the secret chambers of the soul, and forever barred it against the breath of slander. There he takes up his abode and holds communion with the contrite spirit. The real merits and consolations of virtue are secured to its possessor by the impartial legislation of righteous heaven. Intemperance in its effects, compared with slandering, is harmless; at least so far as producing discord is concerned. The peaceable drunkard, compared even with that church member, who is continually sowing discord in society, is an angel. Slander is but the infectious breath or a foul spirit, that poisons the healthful atmosphere wherever it is breathed, and breaks the quiet repose—the calm serenity of neighborhoods and families, as it were, with an electric shock.
Political slander is as infectious and destructive to the harmony of the nation, and the security of our government, as private slander is to neighborhoods and societies. No sooner is a candidate held up for office, than all the party dogs of war on both sides are let loose and set to barking. Immaterial how fair may be his character, how inviolable his veracity, or how unsullied his honor and integrity, they will make him appear to be an outcast from society, covered with the darkest blots of infamy. Immaterial how great may be his qualifications, or how splendid his talents, they will, by that species of logic for which slanderers are famous, prove him to be a fool. These dissentions do not expire when the candidates are elected. They are carried to the capitol of our common country and blown out in more than wordy war. There, we have reason to fear, the volcano is gathering, and that the day is not distant when it will disembogue in more than the thunders of Etna, wrap our political heavens in a blaze, and melt its elements with fervent heat. Anarchy and confusion will seize the reins of government, and drive us to the oblivious shades of departed empires. If we continue to go on in our political slanders as a nation, losing sight of our common welfare, and sacrificing thegeneral, on the altar ofpartialinterest, the day of our ruin is not remote. Its awful morn, has, already, it seems, dawned with streaks of malignantlight, and (like ill fated Troy) ominous of the purple streams, the crimson blood, that watered the Trojan plains where mighty Sarpedon fell, where Hector lay slain by the sword of Achilles. Heaven forbid that our national sun, that rose so fair, should go down in blood, and shroud our temple of Liberty in everlasting night! To avert such a catastrophe let us reform, and do our duty as individuals. The safety of any body politic depends on the conduct of the individuals that compose it. And God grant that these dissentions may cease, that political peace and harmony may become perfect, and our government may stand immoveable on its basis, like the rock that remains unshaken by the furious storms that agitate the ocean. May we, as a nation, be of one mind in resisting every species of immorality, in studying the happiness of our fellow creatures—of one mind in obtaining a knowledge of the character of our Creator, in studying his parental and benign government, and his divine attributes and unchanging perfections—and be of one mind in acquainting ourselves with his beautiful works that swarm around us and afford us so many rational delights. Let us store our minds with useful knowledge, practice the precept of Christ, labor for mental emancipation, and contentment and peace will be our lot.
In the great duties of religious obligation, let us be of one heart and mind. Let us live like brethren, not only among ourselves, but among other denominations. It is not long that we are to be together. We are fading like the flower of the field, and ought to bear in mind that death will soon lay our heads equally low in the dust, and the worms shall cover us. We glitter for a moment like the bubbles borne on the bosom of the ocean; they break and mingle again with the parent fountain. We toil and heap up wealth, pass like empty shadows over the plain and vanish forever! Generations, that covered the earth, are gone, and unremembered by the living. They strove to gather wealth and honors—they met each other in the hostile field—rolled garments in blood, bedewed the widow's and the orphan's cheek with tears, and filled their peaceful habitations with the voice of lamentation and wo. Thousands lived in clamors and discord, and one seemed destined to be oppressed by another. But the fields of war are still, the noise of battle is hushed, and the voice of lamentation and wo is heard no more! Hark! All is still as the chambers of eternal silence! Where are they? In the shades of death! Kind reader, this is the doom of us all! And so it will soon be said of you and me! Let us then be of one mind. Let us do good by visiting the fatherless in their affliction and keeping ourselves unspotted from the world.
We have now considered the fact, that real felicity consists in mental pleasures and gratifications, and that these alone exalt our nature and capacity for happiness above the brute creation, and have directed your attention to virtue and peace as the only condition in which that happiness can be found. We have brought to view the propriety of being of one heart and mind towards each other in our families, in our religious societies, in the community and in our national concerns. We have set before you the evils resulting from intemperance, and from private and political slander.
We will now, in thesecondplace, take into consideration thenegative and affirmativeconsequence resulting from them on the morals of the community so far as the causes leading tointemperance and crimeare concerned.
Many discourses have been delivered, during the three past years, on intemperance pointing out its ruinous effects on the morals of society, while but few discourses have been put into the hands of the public pointing out the causes leading to this destructful vice, and those few have not in my humble opinion traced it to itstrue source. Much has also been said about intemperance leading to crime, which in many respects is true. But all this is not coming to the fountainhead from whence these turbid streams flow. We will take the liberty to differ on this subject with all that has as yet fallen upon our ear, and independently give our opinion, as to what we conceive to be the original cause from whence these baneful effects spring. We will endeavor to show thatthe poorer class of society are driven to intemperance and crime by the conduct of the rich (those whom the fashion of the world calls respectable and great) yes, by the conduct of too many, who are even attempting to reform them.
First, then we would remark; that man is a creature of want, which is the first cause of all action. Had he no wants, he would never seek to supply them, either byhonorable or dishonorablemeans. To this self-evident proposition, all will without hesitation assent. We will now attend to our general character as a nation, for it will be admitted, on all hands, that actions speak louder than words. As a nation, we enjoy much liberty; but public opinion, either of a political or religious character, may become so popular as to erect itself into an engine of oppression, and so formidable, that many an honest man dare not dissent, nor independently raise his voice in defence of what he believes to be truth, but will tamely submit himself a slave to the opinions and doctrines of others. This is probably the case with the greater proportion of the American people.
Again, though we profess to value every man by his integrity or moral worth, yet it is a fact, that in conduct we make a man's reputation depend principally on his purse. I yield the point without controversy that in books, in news-papers, in preaching and in words, we profess to esteem a man and rate his standing in society by his integrity. But what do words and books, and news-papers and preaching amount to, while mankind in conduct practice right the contrary of all these ostentatious professions? They amount to nothing but hypocrisy, or ridiculous nonsense. Does a man's standing, in these days, depend on his conduct! By no means. Let us introduce an example. Suppose there were two individuals of equal talents, and both possessed an equal education. Their moral characters are the same. But one of them falls in possession of an immense fortune, while the other is poor indeed. Now will public conduct place them on an equality? No. Will they both move in the same social circle? No. Will they both be treated with the same politeness and attention by their neighbors? No. Should they propose a public measure for the good of the town, would the one be listened to, with the same attention as the other? No. Would he possess so much influence in society? No. Well, what can be assigned as the reason, why this rich man stands so far above the other in the public opinion? Ans. It is because his character is measured by the length of his purse, and the weight of his influence is determined by the weight of his gold.
It is not a thing of rare occurrence, that the rich are thus distinguished from the poor, but it is a fact so notorious that it has long since passed into a proverb. This being the course of conduct which men practice, the impression has therefore become general that reputation, influence and power depend on wealth. Hence the great inquiry, uppermost in every mind, is "how shall I get rich, so that I may stand high in the estimation of men, and exert a powerful influence in society, and be numbered among those who move in the higher circles of life?" Concluded in our next.
"Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." Romans xii:12.
Even a man, who is in many things unprincipled, if he is at the same time wealthy, takes a station in the higher circles of life, where the poor, but honest man, would not be admitted. This course of conduct is not only practised by what are called men of the world, but by professors of religion of about all denominations, by both preachers and people.
The middling, and the poor class, seeing no encouragement, or even possibility, of rising so as to associate with those, who move in the higher circles of life, by any virtuous conduct they may pursue, and sensible that wealth alone possesses the charm to give them virtue and notice in the world, they are thus driven to various, dishonorable means to obtain it. Multitudes are driven to the crimes of counterfeiting, theft, and even robbery and piracy. They commence their wretched course, with the intention to abandon it, as soon as a competent fortune is obtained. Other thousands are driven to gambling; and even those, who are called respectable, take every possible advantage in trade and bargaining. Their pursuits are various, but their object is one and the same—viz: to gain wealth, so that they may obtain a high standing and influence in society. Thousands thus driven into crime, are detected, lose their reputation, and abandon themselves to intemperance. Their evil example has a pernicious influence on the morals of those children and youth, who may, by various circumstances, be placed in their society, and thus the pestilence, in all its frightful horrors, gathers force and spreads.
There are thousands of virtuous persons, whom poverty excludes from the higher ranks of life, who are doomed to seek the converse of those, who are in a measure corrupted, and, by associating with them on public occasions, often in taverns and alehouses, are soon involved in habits of dissipation and obscenity. Man is a social being, loves society, and, rather than spend his life in solitude, will seek the converse of the vicious.
If we would obey the injunction of the text—"Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate," these evils would be in a great measure removed. If we, as a community, would strip away the fancied reputation, which wealth attaches to the human character, and, independent of property, place every man on an equal footing, according to their moral and mental worth, and let their power and influence in society, be according to their conduct, it would give a noble tone to public feeling and moral grandeur.
By the "high things," mentioned in our text, we are to understand that vain popularity which one man wishes to enjoy above another, in a religious or political sense. It is one of the ruling passions of the day, in which we live, to be considered of high standing among our fellow creatures, and to possess a larger share of influence over the minds and opinions of men, than those whom we consider our rivals. Those, who possess this desire, and at the same time feel a haughty spirit towards those, whom they consider in the humble walks of life, are certainly not the men, who are entitled to our esteem, nor are they to be looked up to, as examples of magnanimity. So far from possessing true greatness of soul, or being entitled to veneration, they are certainly below those whom they affect to despise. A truly great and good man has no desire to dazzle, but to be useful in the world. He sees the miseries under which thousands groan, and desires to relieve them, but with no wish to be considered great for discharging those duties of kindness and humanity. But it is a lamentable consideration, that too many, in performing those acts of mercy, seek to stand on an eminence above the crowd they wish to benefit, and proclaim their intentions to men through the loud sounding trumpet of fame, but, at the same time, will not even stoop to converse with the very beings they profess such a warm desire to aid. Every thing must be done on a high scale, and in the manner they dictate, otherwise they have no wish it should be done at all. It is a matter of regret, that this spirit, so desirous of minding high things, has been carried into the sanctuary—in fact, has been carried to the solemn gates of death—yes, even into eternity.
We have witnessed what are commonly called "revivals of religion," in which two or more denominations united, apparently, heart and hand. They publicly declared, that as they saw their fellow creatures exposed to the burning wrath of God in the future world, they had no motive in view, but their conversion and escape from that awful doom— that it was, to them, a matter of indifference with what church they united themselves, provided, they would only repent and turn to God. All this passed on well till the reformation ceased. The next thing, to be determined, was, what doctrine do you believe, and what church will you join? This was a trying point, and its settlement filled them with animosity towards each other. And why? Because each desired the honor of converting them to their faith, and of bringing them into their church, or else, that they should not be converted at all. Though this has been done by some, yet it is no evidence, that all will do this, or even approve it. There are those, who, we believe, are actuated by nobler motives than in the cause of truth, and who are not aspiring to stand high, nor striving "who shall be greatest." One denomination has labored to assume the entire honor of reforming the public morals—has labored to become incorporated by an act of Legislature into an American Temperance Society, and were unwilling to admit Universalists and Unitarians to co-operate with them in this work of reform. This is but aspiring after high things, instead of manifesting the meek and lowly spirit of Christ.
But we would more particularly remark that, it is this very course of conduct of any man, or class of men exalting themselves above others in account of theirwealth, or external circumstances, that discourages the poor, who are not only called, but treated as the lower order of society, and drives thousands of them to the intoxicating cup, as a relief from the mortifications of poverty, and drives other thousands into crime, as the only means to obtain that wealth by the omnipotence of which, they alone can rise to eminence, respectability, and influence among men. Preachers of the gospel, as well as others, give sanction by their conduct to these false notions of respectability and greatness. They will seek the society, and court the favor of the rich in preference to the poor, even though thelattermay exceed theformerin integrity and moral worth. This, we say, is the most powerful incentive to drive men into a state of encouragement, intemperance and crime. It is a fearful precipice on which we stand, as a religious community. Instead of estimating a man's standing by his virtuous principles, it is too much estimated by his dollars.
So did not Jesus Christ our great example. He mingled with the lowest class of society. He associated with, and visited most among those he wished to reform, so that his meek, mild and heavenly example might exert a salutary influence upon their hearts, and cast a restraint upon their conduct. He was a friend to publicans and sinners, and ate and drank with them. He went among them, as a physician, to give them life and health, to conduct them by encouragement and persuasion to the paths of righteousness and peace. His presence was not needed among those who were whole. He was of course seldom found in their society. He did not desire to rank with the rich, self-righteous pharisee. So ought those, who profess to be the servants of Christ, to go among them, who are most in need of their aid. "The servant is not above his Master." They ought, therefore, to condescend to men of low estate, and visit the abodes of poverty and want.
But instead of this, they stand aloof, even from the respectable, because they are poor, and instead of visiting those, who indulge in dissipation and vice, and trying to lead them to the paths of virtue and peace, are heaping upon them the most opprobrious epithets. By esteeming the rich and associating with them, they practice a course of conduct, which has rooted the impression deep in every mind, that to be esteemed, and to rank with them in the social circle, they must be rich. This has driven many a virtuous man into crime, many into bad company, and finally into discouragement and intoxication. This no one can deny. What, we ask, is the reason, that there is so large a proportion of the middle and lower class of society, compared with the rich, who indulge incrimes and intemperance? Why is it when misfortune falls upon the rich, that they, so often, resort to the intoxicating draught? The mystery can only be unriddled in the stubborn fact, that wealth, more than virtue, gives a man a reputation in the world, and this destructive vice involves thousands in ruin.
If every man were assured that, be herich or poor, he could associate with those who are wealthy and respected, and move in the higher ranks of life, if he only maintained his integrity, and that he would be esteemed in proportion to his moral virtues and mental acquirements, every man would be induced to merit a good name; and their good opinion would operate as a constant check upon his conduct. Every man, by early attention to his deportment, can become respectable, but every man cannot become wealthy.
Did the rich esteem the poor, and admit them into their social circlesolelyon the ground of moral worth, there would be but little danger of these poor ever forfeiting their standing, by plunging into the floods of intemperance and crime. And did they reject from their circle the rich, who were vicious until reformed—in fine, did they only strip away from wealth its fancied charm, to make them either respectable, or influential, did they confine it to its due limits, as being only necessary to satisfy our animal wants, and did they with one consent declare that an improved mind and virtuous worth should be the only criterion by which men should take their stations in social life, intemperance and crime would soon cease. Men would then be as much engaged in striving to merit a fair reputation, as they are how in striving to obtain wealth. It is, therefore, the conduct of the great by falsely attaching character and influence to wealth, that is driving their fellow creatures into crimes to obtain it, and other thousands into discouragement and intemperance. From this charge preachers are not exempt. They too respect, and visit the rich more than the poor, and thus indirectly lend their influence to drive them from virtuous life to a course of dissipation and crime. And when once they get them there, then they wish to devise somegreat meansto bring them back to the paths of sobriety and virtue. Do they endeavor to effect this, by ceasing to mind high things, and by condescending to men of low estate? No—but instead of going among them, and taking this unhappy class of our fellow creatures by the hand, and leading them by encouragement and persuasion to the paths of temperance and reformation, they have, in substance, said, "stand by thyself, I am holier than thou." They have minded high things, by placing themselves on an elevation above them, and made them out to be worse than murderers, thieves and robbers, by ascribing all the crimes, that are committed, to the use of rum! This has discouraged and exasperated many, and made them feel that reformation would be of no avail to raise them to be the associates of those, who appeared so anxious to reform them. Their language has, in substance, been—you must reform, give us the credit, but must stand where you are in the lower circles of life, obey our exhortations, and look up to us as your benefactors, but you cannot expect to rank with us, because you have no cash to introduce yourselves into our circles. And as all men desire society, they have remained with their companions in iniquity.
For any class of society to take a station above others, and endeavor to force men to abandon the cup by passing votes or enacting by-laws, that no spirits shall be sold them, is but exciting their rage, and causing the intemperate to drink the more out of revenge, and causing those, that are already temperate, to increase the quantity as an act of defiance. It is a fearful precipice on which we stand as a religious community. Estimating a man's standing in society by his immense wealth, or learned profession, rather than by his integrity and virtue, is attended with the most dangerous circumstances, as we have already noticed. Men cannot be reformed by force, nor by declaiming what a low, mean, unworthy, degraded part of the human race they are.
There is too much pride in our world. We ought to bear in mind that death will soon lay our heads equally low in the dust, and "the worms shall cover us!" O the folly of human pretensions to greatness! Let us not mind high things, but condescend to men of low estate. By preachers and people of all denominations obeying the exhortations of our text, mankind would, in a great measure, be restrained from crime, and certainly from being openly intemperate. If then, we sincerely desire to reform them, and to hold a powerful check upon their conduct, and prove ourselves the benefactors of our race, let us begin the work, by adhering most scrupulously to our text, which exhorts us to be of the same mind one towards another, to mind not high things, but to condescend to men of low estate.
It is the duty of preachers, in particular, to be meek and lowly in spirit—to be humble and watch over the moral maladies of mankind—to break down the arrogant distinctions, which the fashions and riches of the world have set up—to esteem men purely for their moral and intellectual worth, independent of the gifts of fortune, and to visit those, who are given to intemperance, and, by gentle persuasive measures, endeavor to lead them to habits of sobriety. And when this is effected, treat them according to that respect, which their virtues merit. God is kind to the evil and to the unthankful, and ought we to be unkind to them? Heaven forbid.
We have now set before you, what we conceive to be theprincipal causeleading tointemperance, dishonesty, and crime. True, there may be some exceptions to this, but we are conscious, that it is the conduct of those very men, who are declaiming againstintemperance and crime, that first drives their fellow creatures into those deplorable haunts of vice. They do thisindirectly, and perhapsinnocently. They do it by giving too much reputation and influence to the wealthy class of the community, by paying too much homage and respect to gold, and by withholding, from the virtuous poor, that respect which their conduct merits. We cannot set this truth before you in a more forcible light, than by relating, from memory, an anecdote of Dr. Franklin, with which we will conclude. The rich merchants and professional men in Philadelphia proposed to form themselves into a social circle from which allmechanicswere to be excluded. The paper, drawn up for the purpose, was presented to Dr. Franklin for his signature. On examining its contents, he remarked that he could not consent to unite his name inasmuch as by excluding mechanics from their circle, they had excluded God Almighty, who was the greatest mechanic in the universe!
"And be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians iv. 32.
A tender heart is the kind boon of heaven, and forgiveness is a virtue too little exercised in the common intercourse of life. Men are too apt to be in character Pharisees. They are too apt to love those that love them, and hate their enemies. Retaliation is inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel, and is a vice deeply to be stigmatized and deprecated by all lovers of peace and morality. By retaliation, we are to understand the injuring of another because he has injured us. This spirit of revenge betrays a contracted mind in which the feelings of compassion and forbearance never found a permanent abode. A man of a peevish, irritable and revengeful temperament, is to be pitied, instead of being injured in return. By retaliating the evil he may have done, you involve yourself in the same condition of meanness, and in your turn become the injurer.
All those men, whose names are rendered illustrious and immortal, have been distinguished for a spirit of forbearance, kindness and mercy. Were there no examples of rashness—no failings and imperfections among men, there would, then, be no opportunity to distinguish ourselves by a spirit of forgiveness. God has so constituted the present existence of his creatures, that the perfections of his divine character might be manifested to them in the unchanging exercise of his paternal compassion and forgiveness; and thus afford them an opportunity to imitate himself in the exercise of those exalted feelings, which emanate from heaven.
We are not, however, to understand that tenderness of heart and forgiveness are to be exercised to the utter exclusion of the principles of honor and justice. If our children offend, or our dearest earthly friend do wrong, we are to manifest the feelings of tenderness and forgiveness, but these ought not to induce us to overlook their crimes or faults, by remaining silent in regard to their vices. This would be suffering our compassion to degenerate into weakness. It would in fact be hardness of heart. It would betray a spirit of indifference to their dearest interest, as by our silence, they might remain in blindness to the demerit of their deeds, and hurry on to the ruin of their reputation, and consequently, of their earthly happiness. True tenderness of heart makes us watchful over the conduct of those we love, and with whom we are connected in life— moves us to lay naked before them their faults, so that they may early correct them, and thus inspires their hearts with tenderness, and prompts them to regard the happiness, feelings and welfare of others. It is immaterial how near and dear your friend may be, you should, by the feelings of mercy, be induced to tell him his faults, however much it may wound his heart. The wise man says "the wounds of a friend are faithful; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." Too many parents, for want of determination of character, and for suffering their compassion to degenerate into weakness and remaining blind to the faults of their children, having seen them come to some disgraceful end—a state prison, or even the gallows. This, instead of being true tenderness of heart, was infatuation and the worst species of hardness and insensibility to the welfare of their offspring. On the other hand, we ought never to suffer a spirit of revengeful indignation to slumber in our bosoms, ready on every trivial occasion to awake into resentment and retaliation. In fine, we ought to imitate our God in feelings and conduct towards each other, as it is expressed in our text. But many suppose that God is filled with feelings of revengeful indignation towards his creatures, and that the period is rolling on when he will cease to be merciful, and will commence torturing us in the future world for the sins committed in this, and that too, when punishment can do no good to the sufferer—when reformation will be out of his reach. To torment a frail dependent creature, under such circumstances, would be the most degrading species of revenge. And if this is the conduct of God, then we must practice the same, because we are commanded to imitate him. Our text says—"Be yea kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another; even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."
In this passage, our Father in heaven is held up to the world as the model ofkindness tenderness and forgiveness, that mortals are to imitate. God is the moral standard to which every bosom ought to aspire. The highest perfection and loveliness of man fall infinitely short of the intrinsic loveliness and divine perfection's of Jehovah.
If he is the standard of moral excellence which we are to imitate, then we must admit that the copy far exceeds the imitation. If man is called upon to act like God in order to improve his character and affections, then God is better than man, and every opposing objection must, forever, fall to the ground. Perhaps it may be said, that all denominations of men allow him to be so. This is not correct. It is true, theysay thisin so many words. But words are one thing, and what a doctrine involves is quiteanother. I might believe, and most rigidly maintain, that an earthly father had prepared a palace of comfort for his fiveobedientchildren, and a furnace of fire to torture his fivedisobedientchildren; and suppose he had dealt with his ten children as above stated;—with what propriety could I step before the public, and contend that he was the best man in America? Even were I persuaded, in my own mind, and firmly believed him to be the best man in existence, would either mybelief or acknowledgmentmake it a fact? No; every man of common sense, and common humanity would think me deranged. My saying that he was good, and even believing him so, could not alter the awful reality, but would be an evidence of my want of consistency and propriety. He would still be a bad unfeeling man, and in no comparative sense so good as that father, who should punish his children in mercy, and for their future amendment and benefit.
But what is all this compared with the character that thousands ascribe to the God, who rules above? It is no more than the drop to the unmeasured ocean: because those five children would soon cease to suffer; but God, they contend, will torture without mercy or end, millions on millions of his poor dependent creatures for the sins of a short life! The most abandoned, and unrelenting savage, that roams the American forest—the worst wretch in human form would not do this, but release, at length, the sufferer from pain. And those, who contend that God will not release, but on the contrary involve the victim of his ire deeper in who, attribute to him a character infinitely worse, than the most cruel and degraded of our race, and no argument, to the contrary, can be for one moment maintained. If a man desire the holiness and happiness of all his fellow creatures, and would bring them to a glorified state of beatitude in heaven, had he the power, and still contends that God will not, it is elevating his goodness far above the goodness of God. And for any man to come forward with this acknowledgment on his lips, and yet address the benignant Parent of all, and, in prayer, acknowledge him to be the best of all beings, is only using words without propriety or meaning. There is no sense, no reason in such logic. It completely contradicts itself, and what is contradictory cannot be true.
Would you save all men from sin and its attendant misery if you could? O yes, is the answer, I would, and carry them all in the arms of unbounded benevolence to glory. Well, has God the power to do it? Yes, is the reply. But do you believe that he will exert his power so as to accomplish it? No says the objector, I believe that he will sentence a large portion of his erring offspring to endless and inconceivable wo. Very well; then you are the best being of the two. And it is a melancholy circumstance to these unfortunate beings, that you are not on the throne of the universe. If this be so, then our text ought to be reversed. God ought to copy your tenderness, and forgive men as you do! We are certainly called upon to conform our conduct to the best standard, and to imitate thebestbeing. If you are thebest, then God and man ought to be called upon, andentreatedto imitate you! No; says the objector, God is superlatively the best being in the universe. You may talk, and tell me so, till the morning sun sinks beyond the western hills, and yet yourcreedwill contradict every word you utter. What you have just acknowledged, unchangeably stares you in the face. You say, that you would forgive all, save them from sin, and raise them to a blessed eternity, if you had the power. This power, you say, God possesses, and yet youbelieve, and that he will not do it. It is certainly an unfortunate circumstance to the human family, if their Father in heaven is destitute of that goodness which you feel! From whom did you receive all those compassionate feelings of heart? Why says the objector, God gave them to me. But how can God give you what he has not himself? If you possess more benevolence than God, you could not have received it from him; because on this principal he did not have it in possession to give. Surely he could not communicate to you, or any other being, what he did not originally possess. From what source, then, did you derive so much tenderness and love? There must, certainly, be some being in the universe in whose bosom is rooted as much benevolence and love as you feel, or how could it have been communicated to you from another? Now, where did you get it? God gave it to me, says the objector. This cannot be, because your doctrine proves, that you have more love than the God who made you! If you insist that he has given it to you, has he not in such case, given you more than he originally possessed? He has. If so, endless misery may be true; for on this principle he has none left!
The scriptures teach that "God is love"; and all his works speak the same language—saying, "the Lord is good, and his mercies endure forever." But how good is he? The doctrine of endless wrath says, he is not as good as you. You are but a small stream from an infinite ocean of love; and yet this little stream is greater than the ocean from which it issues, and rises far above its fountain head! Can this be true? Impossible. O, do you not perceive how your own feelings, which you daily experience, contradict your creed! You feel, desire, and pray for the salvation of all men, and if you had the power, all your feelings, prayers and desires would be carried into execution. And yet your doctrine denies, that God, the fountain, in which all your affections originate and live, will do it;—and at the same time you say, that you have no love only what he gave you! What inconsistencies, contradictions and blindness are here! Man, a small drop, from the benevolent fountain God, is willing to do, what the source from whence he came is unwilling to do! Then a drop of love, in the human bosom, is more tender and benevolent than an ocean in the God, who placed it there!
We all know, that the fountain must be more extensive than the stream it sends forth—yea, larger, than all its running streams put together. This we know to be correct, as well as we know, that the sun enlightens the world. Let us then collect these little streams into one. Bring, if you please, into one body, the love and benevolence of men and angels, of cherubim and seraphim—stretch your thoughts to unnumbered worlds, extract the love from countless bosoms, and condense the whole into one being. How great, lovely, and adorable, would that creature be! Then, let the question be put to him—from whence did you derive all those noble qualities of love, mercy and goodness? He replies,from my Father God! Now, we must grant, that God far exceeds him in goodness, because this noble creature is but an emanation from him—and the good desires of this creature would be equal to the good desires of the countless millions of men and angels in all worlds; and could have no other intentions only those, which goodness and mercy dictate—and goodness itself can do nothing contrary to its own nature, any more than ice can burn or fire freeze. This creature would desire the happiness of all; and yet even he is but a small rivulet flowing from the crystal fountain of life and being! This creature would institute a governmentperfectly merciful; and mercy would, of course, require, that thedisobedientshould be punished to bring them toobedience, and perfect them in the same state of glorification and love with that being itself.
"God islove," and it, therefore, follows that he isloveto every creature he has made, and it is utterly impossible that he can do any thing contrary to his own nature. "He cannot deny himself." He will, therefore, do all that love dictates. It is consistent with parental love to punish for the good of its offspring, but not to punish unmercifully. But inquires the objector, does God punish for the good of his creatures? We will let Paul settle this question—Heb. Xii. Chap. "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. But if ye be without chastisement, whereofallare partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons. Furthermore, we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure, but he for our profit that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceably fruit of righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby." Now show us, if you can, any punishment which God inflicts, that contradicts his paternal goodness. It cannot be done. He has threatened and inflictedeverlasting punishmentupon nations, as such, but not a solitary passage can be produced from Genesis to Revelations, where he has threatened any individual witheverlastingpunishment.
God is the adorable fountain of all tenderness, love, and compassion, and no mother's son was imbued in the fount of mercy like his, who was "the brightness of his glory and the express image of his perfections." True, her yearnings over the babe of her bosom are great; still they bear but little comparison to him who breathed those feelings there. God compares himself to the mother. "Can a woman forget her sucking child"? Woman, being of a more delicate formation than man, possesses a mind susceptible of more fine, deep, and lasting impressions than his. The affections of her soul, when fully roused into action, and fixed upon their object, are deeper than those of man, extend far beyond the compass line of his, and nobly range those sequestered haunts—those delightful fields of mental felicity, where his finest affections never penetrated. Let her heart once become fixed upon its darling object, and it is immaterial in what situation in life we contemplate her—whether prosperous or adverse, we behold the same unshaken constancy, the same bright and burning flame. Her love to her children is pure as the dew-drops of the morning, high as the heavens and unchanging as the sun. It scorns dictation, bids defiance to oppression, and never for one moment loses sight of its object. No disappointments that cross her path, no scenes of adverse fortune that darken her sky, can wrench it from her grasp, obscure it from her vision, or tear assunder the silken cord that binds it to her heart.
The truth of these remarks we see verified in that unwearied watchfulness and care, which she exercises over her children in supplying their countless, and ever varied little wants; in allaying their little griefs, in soothing their tender hearts by the soft whispers of encouragement and love; in hushing them to repose and in watching over the slumbers of their pillow. Are her children exposed to danger, and full in her view? Then no devouring flame, that wraps her dwelling in destruction—no rolling surges that lash the foaming main, can, in such a moment of peril, over-awe her spirit, or deter her from rushing into the very jaws of death to save them. Are they sick? Sleepless she sits beside their bed, and watches every breath they draw. Are they racked with pain? Her soul inhales the pang; and freely drinks at the same fount of agony, and breathes over them the prayer of mercy. Love is thatattributein her nature to which all theothersare subservient. It is theshrineat which they all bow, thecentreto which they all gravitate. If her children do wrong, she freely forgives.