"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.]