Chapter 8

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's _universal 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 you _really_ desire 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.

SERMON XIV

"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 irresistible _laws_ of his empire which he has, from the beginning, _established_ for 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 no _external condition_ has 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.]

SERMON XV

"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 the _same creed_, and advocated the _same 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 in _kindness and benevolence_ to 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 of _low, 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 the _basest_ motives. 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. _This_ God 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.