tion, that the happiness of virtuous minds after death will be augmented by the presence and knowledge of each other. This expectation is felt to be peculiarly sacred in the time of sorrow and dissolution of earthly friendships. It is the refuge of those, who are called to mourn over the uncertainty and emptiness of all terrestrial hopes, who experience the bitterness of wounded affections, who find the support, on which they have leaned, suddenly withdrawn, and fond prospects overclouded. It brings solace to the afflicted, but cannot fail to interest all. Who but must find his imagination warmed, and his heart powerfully impressed, while withdrawing his mind from surrounding objects, and gratifications of sense, he conveys himself in thought to scenes now invisible and future, and reflects, that there he may become united with all the mighty dead, with the master spirits of former days, who have left names venerable for genius, piety, and virtue; with philosophers and moralists, and prophets and apostles; with those who have sunk to their grave in hoary years, having lived benefactors to their country and species, and those whose promise was blighted by untimely death; with all of every age, and clime, and language, and nation, who having made use of the clearer, or more dim light afforded them, have been raised by the mercy of the universal Father to a common home? There all weaknesses shall be dropped; the valley of sorrow will have been passed; there anxiety and fear shall be no more known. There kindness shall be lasting and friendship immortal. There we shall join forever in happy employments, and form connexions, which shall never be dissolved.

Such are the hopes, which reason and the scriptures teach us to cherish concerning the future condition of those, who fear God and work righteousness on earth. It is consoling to reflect that, amid all the fluctuations of human affairs, amid the uncertainty and troubles of life, we have a prospect of a more firm and lasting happiness. Standing amidst the dust of mortality, surrounded by im

ages of decay and change and death, reminded by the mouldering relics, and crumbling monuments, with which the earth is strown, that we are shortlived and perishable, we elevate our imaginations to regions, where sorrow and death can no more reach us,

'Where no cares their whelming billows roll, No doubts bewilder, and no hopes betray.'

But let us remember, that we must be prepared for those regions, before we shall be permitted to enter. There are, we repeat, certain views, affections, feelings, and habits, which fit us for enjoyment, and without which no change of condition can confer it. The kingdom of heaven must commence within us, or we shall never reach it by any remove we may hereafter make. Let us not forget, that there is one thing needful, and only one,-and that is virtue, a right temper, affections, and life. This is absolutely necessary for us; other things are not equally so. We cannot be certain how far other objects, in the pursuit of which we engage, may be of importance to us in future. We cannot take with us our wealth, our honors, our estates, our capacity of sensual gratification. Death relaxes the grasp of the miser, quenches the ardor of desire, and lays all human pride in the dust. But when all else perishes, when power and glory, which so cheat the imagination, have departed, the distinctions of virtue and vice are left us, and they will augment our happiness or deduct from it through coming ages.

Let us endeavor to live in such a manner, that when the last summons arrives, we may part with life without reluctance or fear, confident that God will watch over our sleeping dust, and be the faithful guardian of our spirits, and bring us at last to Himself, to happiness, and heaven.

THE

LIBERAL PREACHER.

VOL. II.]

NOVEMBER, 1828.

[No. 5.

SERMON VI.

BY REV. JOHN BRAZER, SALEM, MASS.

CHRISTIAN UNITY.

EPHESIANS, Iv. 3.

Endeavoring to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.

THERE is scarcely any part of our social duties in which charity is more severely tried, than in observing a proper course of conduct towards those who differ from us in speculative opinions on religious subjects. It is a comparatively easy thing to admit the rights of our fellow men in regard to property, person, and life,--we have too a tear for distress and a hand to relieve it,--we are often very kindly disposed to the follies of those around us, and can tolerate even their sins, if they be not very gross or injurious to us personally; but for their difference of opinion on speculative points in religion, it is often difficult to find any excuse, any charity. The history of the church, and, it may be, our own experience, afford a sad but an impressive illustration of this remark. The disciples of that blessed master, who came on a message of love from God, and who was himself emphatically the Prince of peace, have too often exhibited but poor examples of the spirit of his religion. Indeed, the hatred of disputants in Theology has become proverbial.

This is a state of feeling greatly to be deplored wherever it exists. But it is especially to be lamented in a community like ours, which, on various accounts, is pe

culiarly liable to be divided into sects and parties, on the subject of religion. Our freedom from any unblessed union of Church and State, by which errors and abuses in each may be upheld and perpetuated by the united resources of both; the happy state of religious freedom we enjoy, which, while it permits every man to be infallible for himself, allows no man to be infallible for another; the silent though unceasing operation of our free civil institutions in disenthralling the mind from the influence of mere authority of every sort, and in calling forth the free and full exercise of all its powers; the diffusion of the means of education, which carry to the door of every hovel the opportunities of moral and intellectual improvement; the fervid and searching spirit of inquiry which characterizes the present age-all these circumstances have combined to give an impulse to the public mind on the subject of religion, more strong, more active, more efficient, than has ever hitherto existed amongst us, and has multiplied, in consequence, to a degree before unknown, differences of opinion among the followers of a common Master.

There is another circumstance in our condition as a people which renders the evil above alluded to still more deplorable. Our population is thinly spread over a vast tract of country, and the union of all, in many neighborhoods, is essential to the adequate and unburthensome support of public religious institutions. Our cities and larger towns, indeed, are exceptions to this remark. In them the evil is, at least, less felt, because the means of religious instruction are multiplied and various, and every man may follow unmolested the dictates of his own conscience. The worst conflict which is there carried on is, ordinarily, between sect and sect, and though it be sometimes marked by atrocities incident to border warfare, yet, for the most part, private, individual animosity is merged and lost in the common mass of unchristian estrangement. But in our small towns, whose population is more scattered, the unsanctified contention, occasioned

by difference of religious opinions, is more deeply and mournfully experienced. It necessarily becomes more personal. It depends more upon individual prowess. It arms man against man, citizen against citizen, neighbor against neighbor. It goes with them to their ordinary occupations; it follows them to the transaction of public business; it mars the harmony of social intercourse. Nay, it sends a withering blight upon relations more dear and intimate still. It verifies, in a sense never intended, the words of the Saviour, "that a man's foes shall be they of his own household." It lights a brand of discord in the family circle, it stirs up feuds around the domestic fireside, it rends asunder hearts which are united in the most close and sacred ties.

But however this uncharitable spirit may prevail in consequence of a disagreement in religious opinions, it scarcely need be said that it makes no part of Christianity itself. This breathes a spirit altogether different. Its tendency is to enlarge the mind to the reception of all truth, and to fill the heart with a diffusive good-will for every human creature. One of its benign precepts is comprised in the text, by which the disciples of Christ are exhorted to "keep the unity of the spirit in," or, as it ought to be rendered, by the bond of peace." I have thought that reflections suggested by this passage of Scripture, might derive an interest from the present condition of our churches; and might be, moreover, not useless in a practical point of view.

I propose, first, to inquire what unity among Christians is possible and desirable; and, secondly, how this great object of Christian unity may be best promoted and secured.

I. 1. In the first place, it requires but a slight knowledge of the human character and condition to enable us to perceive that a perfect unity of opinion among Christians is impossible. We are differently constituted; we are endowed with different faculties of mind and heart; our passions and prejudices differ; we are subjected to different