and how far we are faithful representatives, advocates, stewards, of that pure and glorious Gospel on whose behalf we have been allowed to contend.

I feel oppressed with the magnitude and solemnity of the question I am approaching. I have looked at it in some moments of retired thought, when I could get far enough from the distracting bustle of this world's interests, to perceive the worth of higher things, and have been overwhelmed as I mused at the vastness of the considerations here involved. I fear that those most concerned are too insensible to them. I fear that the god of this world is blinding their eyes to the tremendous responsibilities of their position. I know myself to be habitually so careless and unalive to it all, that I am alarmed lest we should be found all sleeping together in a fatal security; and I pray for strength to be able to set forth something of the truth, and to draw to it the attention of my fellow-believers.

I must begin with a statement respecting our community, which is necessary to be carefully considered, in order to a just appreciation of what shall follow. We are familiar with the distinction between real and nominal Christians. Every sect, every congregation, has its nominal adherents-those, namely, who, from birth, or residence, or policy, or other accidental circumstances, are attached to it, but are not deeply pledged to it as a matter of conscience and salvation. There are such nominal Christians every where. They are found in our community, as well as in others. Generally speaking, they are regarded in any community, not as a part of the actual efficient force of the camp, nor as the fair representatives of the character and principles of the body. Neither are they to be accounted such in ours; and this is a position to be insisted on. It unavoidably happens, from the circumstances of the case, that our community is encumbered with rather an unusual proportion of these irregular adherents; and it is a fact, not only not to be overlooked, but to be carefully explained, if we would understand aright our situation and our duties.

Let us recollect, then, that there are among us two classes of congregations, the old and the new,-originating under different circumstances, and existing beneath different influences. The old congregations are, many of them, equal in point of antiquity to the country itself; they have very gradually receded from the orthodoxy of the forefathers, and have become what they are without passing through any period of effervescence or convulsion. Such societies, in point of steadfastness, order and general quietness of faith, do not differ from other old societies. But the new congregations have been the creation of the times. They have been formed by schism and secession; and, like all seceders, have something of a spirit not perfectly accordant with the best condition of personal religion. Some of them are the offspring of an open rupture and a violent contest with friends and neighbours, when the spirit of religion was mingled with personal animosity. Some have more calmly withdrawn from the places in which they were brought up, where they had long silently listened to doctrines which they disbelieved, and had sat for peace sake among religionists with whom they had no sympathy. They have always been in opposition to the minister and to the current theology of the place; consequently, they have received into their souls none of those whole

some influences which come from early attachment to the institutions of the gospel, and are very likely to be void of that deep sense of their worth and necessity, which leads men to struggle for them and maintain them, at any cost and at some sacrifices.

And, next, in all our congregations, and throughout every part of the country, there is a class of men who have attached themselves to us simply because we are not orthodox; men, who dislike Calvinism, but like nothing else; who think religion a good thing, that ought to be supported, and are glad to find some form which they can support different from that which they have been taught heartily to hate. They are anti-calvinists, anti-orthodox, anti-zealots, anti-everything severe and urgent in religion. They will not forsake it, because to do so would put them out of good society; indeed, they are not without a vague traditional respect for it. They maintain a pew in the church, for the same reason that the worldly-minded merchant asks his minister to say grace when he has company to dine. It is decent, and is expected of him. Such men are found among the loose hangers on of every sect. A sect in the church militant is made up like an army going forth to war. There is the select body of the wise and hearty, who enter zealously into the merits of the cause, and give themselves to it soul and body. There is the larger number of considerate and faithful adherents, bound to it unflinchingly, but who are merely followers of the opinions of their betters, and take on themselves none of the responsibility of judging the merits of the case, or deciding on the propriety of the measures. There is still another class, who care little about the matter, who are in this army merely because it so happened, but are no more interested in its movements or success, than as they increase or diminish their own personal comforts. And lastly, there are the loose retainers of the camp, now here, now there, now nowhere, who like the protection of the flag and swell the numbers of the march, but who own no allegiance, perform no service, and are but a pestilent hindrance to those who are earnest in the cause. Such men, I say, are hanging about the skirts of every sect-they hang about ours. Would to God we could make good Christians of them!they are far enough from it now.

There are others, too, far enough from being good Christians; forward and respectable men, who, for worldly reasons merely, whether of public good or of personal credit, take a zealous part in the secular concerns of the congregation, and identify all its interests with their own character,-very earnestly devoted to a cause to which they bring disrepute by their own characters,-sincerely wishing to strengthen the hand of religion, and by the very act calling forth the sneers of the ungodly and encouraging the ribaldry of the vain. Would to God, that such men would either leave the ark of the Lord to itself, or purify themselves before they touch it!

It is sometimes made occasion of reproach, that such men are found to attach themselves to our societies. But very unreasonably, for, as I said, they are to be found attached to every sect,-every sect numbers among its followers many merely nominal Christians, and many worldly, irreligious men. The agitations of the times may have cast a larger proportion of these into our ranks than into those of the more popular sects. If so, it is precisely what has always happened, and must happen,

in regard to those denominations which distinguish themselves in the contest for liberty. It is precisely what took place at the Reformation. At that time, the Reformed Church, struggling for liberty, was obnoxious to this same reproach, and was accused as tauntingly of protecting the lax and irreligious, as the Unitarian Church now. Any reform which is urged on the principle of greater freedom of mind, will be open to the same accusation; for it will be favoured by many worthless men who are strenuous advocates for liberty, but care nothing for virtue. At the beginning of the Reformation in England, it was a common saying, 'The further from Rome, the nearer to God;' and under shelter of this, multitudes were glad to go as far as possible from the good things of Rome, no less than from the evil. Bishop Burnet tells us, respecting those days, that the irregular and immoral lives of many of the professors of the Gospel, gave their enemies great advantage to say, that they ran away from confession, penance, fasting and prayers, only that they might be under no restraint, but indulge themselves in a licentious and dissolute course of life.' It is to be expected that irregular and licentious men should thus take advantage of the state of the times; but their doing so should create no prejudice against the cause itself. It is, however, one of the circumstances to be taken into solemn consideration in our judgment, respecting the position which we occupy, and the duties which are imposed upon us.

Such is a cursory view of the condition in which we stand at the close of the struggle, which has made us a distinct denomination among the churches of our land. Thus do we stand before the world, just three centuries after the beginning of the Reformation, at the moment when we have been striving to do our share toward carrying its great principles into complete effect.

It is a moment for pausing to look around us, a crisis of unspeakable interest. It is now to be tried and known what are the power and worth of the principles for which we have been contending. It is to be seen whether we are willing to adorn the doctrine we have secured to ourselves; whether we can live for our faith, as well as fight for it; whether we will struggle as hard for the character, as we have done for the name, of Christians. It is impossible that the present state of things should not powerfully affect the all-important questions of personal religion, and call for strenuous exertions of duty on those who are thus subjected to a peculiar responsibility.

Character is, in a great measure, the offspring of circumstances. The action and results of principles are greatly modified by circumstances. In order to employ principles in such a manner as to secure their intended results, we must ascertain the nature and influence of the circumstances which affect their action. The men who, in one age of the world, show themselves under a certain aspect because necessarily moulded by the pressure of the age, would become of a wholly different stamp if subjected to the impressions of a later period; and the principles, whose action, being opposed by or combined with that of a certain state of society, leads to unhappy results, might become, in another state of society, the spring of all that is generous and great. Accordingly, it has been remarked, that the Puritan character, though such as could be formed only beneath Christian influences, is yet a character which will never appear again upon earth, because the very peculiar

circumstances of that astonishing period can never be precisely repeated. Every period has its own circumstances, modifying, in some way, the operation of universal principles, and thus producing a character of its own; every subdivision or subordinate circle in society modifies it still farther, and produces another variety of the general character.

He that is wise, seeks to ascertain what are these circumstances, and to use them or thwart them in such a manner as shall bring about the best result on his own character. Every wise community will do the

same.

Let us look at the Unitarian community, with this reference to the circumstances in which it is placed. What has it assumed as the universal principles of truth and duty, and how is their practical operation affected by the posture of the times, and what are the peculiar obligations thence resulting? I could not answer these questions in a volume; in this pamphlet I only pretend to hint at an answer.

In respect to principles, what is most worthy of observation seems to me this:-it professes to have adopted as the universal principles of truth and duty those fundamental everlasting principles, which are received by all Christians as the basis and substance of their faith, and which comprise the essence of all religion, morality and philosophy. The process by which these principles are arrived at, is very simple. It has, in following out the doctrines of the great Lutheran Reform, stricken off from its list of theological articles those which were peculiar to the Romish Church, and had made that church distinctively what it was; then it removed those which formed the peculiarities of the Lutheran and the Calvinistic bodies; then it set aside those which were peculiar to the Church of England and the Kirk of Scotland; and, in a word, it excluded whatever, in any one narrow body of believers, formed the distinctive badge of that body-Moravian, Methodist, Baptist, Swedenborgian, &c.-reserving to itself whatever, by being found in each, was proved to be common in all. All that illustrious and unquestionable truth, which is so divine, so essential, so undeniable, that no one of those numerous companies of the holy and good has been led by any philosophy or interest to withhold assent from it; all that glorious and comforting doctrine, which brings to consent and sympathy the purified spirits of our Paschals, Leightons, Doddridges, Wesleys, Cappes, and Penns-this, separated from all accompanying admixtures, is that truth which the Unitarian community professes to receive as the binding, authoritative, guide to the human soul. This is that to which the study of the Scriptures, unbiassed by the authority of ages or of churches, naturally conducts. It places those who receive it at once in harmony with all the diversities of the church as respects the essentials of religion, and in contrast to them as regards the non-essentials. As if the sacred metal of truth, having been coined up for current use by the different Christian peoples, with various proportions and qualities of alloy, this people had proposed to separate from it and cast away those meaner ingredients, and receive in circulation none but the original and unadulterated.

This is the idea. This is what they profess to desire, and to aim after. This is the image of full attainment-the mark of the high calling in Christian doctrine, which is set up before us. Not that it has ever been reached-not that in any community among us this great

perfection has been realized. Far from it. It is the glorious aim of many, but probably the actual attainment of none. And when we consider how glorious it is, and what incitements we have to strive after it, it is mortifying and humbling to observe how far short of it even they fall, who have the clearest perception of its grandeur and excellence.

Indeed, is it not too true, that the very process of mind through which this pure faith is to be sought and attained-the process of comparing and discussing, and discriminating and sifting-is, in some respects, unfavourable to a due appreciation of its worth when attained? For it is the unhappy consequence of controversy to exaggerate the importance of the disputed doctrines-to draw to them a disproportionate attention-to give to them an undue prominence-and to dismiss from their proper place in the thoughts, those which ought to be the predominating and regulating truths. There is no doubt that it has so happened in the case before us. Strongly as men have been persuaded that the common and not the disputed truths are of essential and vital moment, yet as it is the disputed which have necessarily been kept prominent during the long discussion, the feelings have been too much kept hovering about them, and prevented from fervently dwelling on the verities of acknowledged supremacy. Thus it is easy to see how the habit may arise of rejoicing with ardent sincerity in the possession of this light, and yet devoting more thought to what is undoubtedly of inferior moment.

Herein, I must remark by the way, is one of the infelicities under which this particular controversy has laid, beyond most of those which have agitated the Christian world. It has turned upon points of philo. logical interpretation and metaphysical discrimination, which, however they may satisfy the head, have little in them to excite the fervors of the heart; and yet, being connected with all those holiest words and ideas, about which the heart ought to have its deepest fervors, has directly tended to check and chill its natural warmth. Not so was it in some of the other remarkable contests of the church-not such the points for which Methodism contended, and the Quietists and Quakers suffered. They fell on other days and were thrown into other channels of thought, which did less to separate the subjects of their debate from those of their rightful affection; and in this were they more happy than we? I do not say it to excuse our remissness; God forbid! but to point out one unhappy circumstance of the times, to the hurtful influence of which we ought to be keenly alive.

To return then to the point from which I may seem to have been departing-never was it given to a company of believers to be united by constitution or bond so dignified and admirable as this, when understood according to its true idea. It is the naked heart, the inmost core of Christian truth, separated from every addition with which human ignorance, error, ambition, or superstition had connected it. A famous sect of philosophers there anciently was, who thought to arrive at true wisdom by selecting from all the schools what seemed truest in each, and uniting them in a new system. But the purpose of these modern eclectics is better still-to reject what is peculiar to each school, and retain that radical and seminal central truth, which Christ proclaimed from heaven-to bow to no human wisdom, be led by no finite will, governed by no fallible authority-but to be free, absolutely and un