patriotic heart, animated by pure motives, swelling only with virtuous emotions, can bear to be heated through and through without the ebullition of one angry or sinful feeling. Compared with this rule of love, how alarmingly prevalent have been the evils of a party spirit. How much that was truthless; how much that was selfish; how much that was unkind; how much that was angry, alas! how much has been said and done, the whole spirit of which was opposed to the love of country and to the love of God. And now, when brethren of the same household, citizens of the same country, were well nigh intoxicated with this feeling; when all was eagerness and excitement, a ghastly figure enters the arena-it is DEATH! He waves his skeleton arm, and all is still. What instructor is so impressive concerning the folly of strife as this speechless messenger! Did you ever stand by the grave of one against whom you had in life been at enmity? Was it not with a compunction of conscience that you looked down on the poor, helpless remnant of mortality, wondering how you could ever have quarrelled with a worm of the dust like yourself? How mean, how worthless, how unworthy appear those objects which party feeling has presented, in comparison with the sublime realities which death forces on the attention. What a great calm it brings over the agitated spirits of men. How it hushes noise-how it subdues excitement. I thank God that there are so many proofs that, before his own providence, party spirit has fallen prostrate, and that, in the presence of death, men are made to feel that they are brethren still. Let us hope that this effect may not be temporary or limited; but that a more conciliatory spirit, a spirit more consonant with the providences and word of God, may pervade the future counsels and conduct of this whole people.

3. Again, I observe that this dispensation of Providence was obviously intended to teach us the vanity of the world, the certainty of death, and the nearness of eternity.

In some respects the death of a king and a beggar are alike. The pains of dissolution are the same. The impotence of human aid are alike apparent. But in the effects produced on others by the decease of those whose circumstances are so dissimilar there is a difference. When death enters the cottage of the humble man, he teaches the sad lesson of human frailty but to few. When he invades a circle of wider relations, louder and more impressive are his monitions. But when, as now, he removes in an hour the most exalted in rank, God speaks therein unto a whole nation at once, saying, "all flesh is grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The breath of man is in his nostrils, and wherein is he to be accounted of, at his best estate, but a frail, helpless, dying creature." If death sometimes assumes the air of friendship, and is greeted with a melancholy welcome when he comes to the relief of the abject and the forlorn, true and terrible is his aspect to the eye of mortals, when he dims the lustre of rank, humbles the

power and quenches the glory of life. Now is it that the world is taught, in a manner most impressive, that there is no exemption from the decree and power of the king of terrors. The lofty and the lowly, the rich and the poor, lie down together under his silent dominion.

It would be difficult to conceive of any combination of circumstances better adapted to impress a people with the vanity of all things earthly, than those in which death has now achieved his conquest. The individual who has fallen, occupied the very pinnacle of society. He had attained the utmost that a lawful ambjtion could desire; and while his glory was yet fresh upon him, the destroyer came. Scarcely had the intelligence of his official installation reached our remoter States, ere his earthly career was finished, and his soul summoned to the bar of God. We look back a little more than a month ago, and read again the records of that day, and survey the scene of splendor and of joy, and hear the shouts of a great multitude; and while we look and listen, already it has faded away like a dream. Instead of a shout, is the dirge; instead of the joyous procession, is the funeral train, the bier, and the urn. The shadow of death has passed upon it all. Who can behold the contrast without feeling how vain, how empty, how evanescent the highest honors which the world can give! What a lesson is conveyed by this event, especially to those who are high in office, and who, from the very influences which beset them, may be supposed to be most in danger of putting far away the thought of their own mortality!

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

"And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave, "Await alike the inevitable hour;

"The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

God is speaking unto this nation, that it is appointed unto men once to die, and after death cometh the judgment! Eternity, with its amazing realities, is very near. Very soon and the vast throng which yesterday moved through these streets, will, without exception, have passed beyond the scenes which now occupy them, into eternity. What then will be to us the honors or the obscurities of life? What to him, who is now engrossed in the solemn concerns of the eternal world, is the voice of eulogy-the solemn pageant, and these habiliments of mourning? Nothing are these to an immortal spirit. All, all on earth is shadow-that beyond is substance. And are no religious impressions to follow this public bereavement? Is it not a moment in which it may be expected that the thoughts of a whole nation would be turned to the life which is to come? Is the feeling which Providence has awakened to expend itself in forms and ceremonies? or is it destined to introduce and extend a more serious attention to eternal things, and a more general practice of devout piety? Fortunate for his own fame as was the time of death with this distinguished individual, thrice fortu

nate will it prove if it shall appear to have been the means of conferring religious blessings on his countrymen. Should his untimely death be instrumental of giving a direction to the thoughts of this nation towards the truths of religion, greater benefits would thereby result, than could have followed the most prosperous administration of affairs.

4. There is one circumstance in connection with death which is very striking. It is the deep interest which is felt by survivors in the moral character of the departed. There is an eager inquisitiveness after the evidences of his preparation for death. There is an anxiety to know what was the conduct of the individual as he approached the confines of eternity. Did he show himself a christian? Did he express himself as being ready for the summons? Did he leave testimony that it was all well with his soul? This remarkable fact, my hearers, is one mode in which the human conscience testifies to the wisdom and necessity of being well prepared to meet a holy God. This universal habit has been forcibly brought to my attention in the present instance. With the religious character of the deceased I am wholly unacquainted. Of this I am not to speak. If evidences existed of true piety in his heart and life, most sincerely do I rejoice, praising God. But the fact of which I now speak, is the importance which is attached, in the judgment of all, to any acts, any expressions which indicate a religious turn of mind. Every thing else appears to be lost sight of in the presence of death. When the officers of state made official announcement of his decease, nothing was judged to be of greater importance to be told, than that his death was "calm and resigned." The fact that on entering the national mansion he had purchased a " Bible and Prayer-book," which, on the day of his interment, were placed beside his coffin-the fact that he signified to a religious attendant his purpose to connect himself with a christian church, on profession of his faith-why, my brethren, is so much interest attached to circumstances like these? Why do men, whether their own lives evince a regard to religion or not, speak of these facts as so very important? They are publishedthey are reported-they are the theme of conversation and inquiry. The reason is, as I have already said, that there is in the bosom of every man the consciousness that true religion alone prepares any mortal to appear before the tribunal of God. Nothing is more common than for the most irreligious, when death invades the circle of their nearest companionships, to make mention, as a matter of satisfaction, of every look, and act, and sign of the deceased, which evinced a preparation, on his part, for the great change. Every thing else loses its importance. When was it ever known, in these christian times, that the amount of a man's possessions was inscribed on his tomb-stone? The bare suggestion of such a thing would be construed as a mockery of death, under whose denuding hand the rich man leaveth the world naked as he entered it. But

if, in all his life, there was one virtue; in his moral character, one trait which can afford satisfactory evidence of God's approval, this, be sure, you will find sculptured in conspicuous characters on his monumental marble; and even there not half so deep, not half so imperishably, as on the hearts of surviving kindred.

One thing alone can prepare any for their last account. It is not rank, it is not honor, it is the belief and the practice of the Gospel of God. That which is highly esteemed among men, furnishes no passport to the presence of Divine Majesty. There is but one method of salvation proposed for any, for all. To be humble before God, is greater than to be exalted among men. To practice the duties of religion; reverently to walk with God; to be a penitent, sincere disciple of Jesus Christ; this, the world themselves being judges, is of paramount consequence in the hour when death comes to terminate this earthly existence.

As an evidence of this, I have adverted rather to the convictions and admissions of men themselves, than to the explicit teachings of inspiration. When we open the word of God, the only thing which we find revealed therein, is our relation to a future and endless life. And the inquiry which the word and Spirit of God urge upon our consciences in view of death always is, am I myself prepared for the solemn transit? Feeling as I do the propriety of these demonstrations of respect towards our chief magistracy, great is my fear amid it all, that outward show, the solemn pomp of sorrow, the requiem and the march, will divert the thoughts. of many from those internal communings with death, judgment and eternity, which the visitations of Providence are adapted to create. And to-day, amid the thoughtfulness and calm of the holy Sabbath, I stand here to ask each one of my dear hearers whether he is himself prepared suddenly to be removed from the scenes which now absorb his attention to the solemnities of his final account. An impetuous current is fast bearing our bodies to the grave; whither, whither are our spirits tending? Is the great question decided or not, whether they have yet received a direction towards the city and the throne of God? Has the sting of death, which is sin, been extracted? Have we committed our souls unto the Conqueror of death and the grave? Have we trusted in Him who is the resurrection and the life? Have we fled for refuge and hope to Him who will occupy the throne of judgment, whose smile amid the world's convulsions will be life, whose frown will be despair and death? A satisfactory answer to inquiries like these, can alone sustain and calm in the hour when the world recedes, and its glory fades on the rayless eye. To be a true christian is the only thing which will avail when the dead, small and great, shall stand before the throne of God, and the character of each awaits its irreversible destiny. What then, in the words of the Son of God, is a man profited if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul?

SERMON CCC.

BY REV. PROF. H. P. TAPPAN,

OF NEW-YORK.

HUMÅN AGENCY IN THE EvangelIZATION
OF THE WORLD.

One of the series on the Conversion of the World, delivered in the
Central Presb. Church, New-York.

"Understandest thou what thou readest? And he said, How can I, except some man should guide me?"-Acts, 8: 30, 31.

Four thousand years passed away after the fall of Adam before Jesus Christ appeared in our world. Why was his coming so long delayed? During this long period the oracles of God were confined to one small nation shut up within the mountain fastnesses of Palestine. Why were they not published universally? Eighteen hundred years have passed away since the advent of Jesus Christ: during this period gross darkness has not only overspread the greater part of the nations, but also the nominal and visible christian church; at the present day two-thirds of our race remain unevangelized; and even the so-called christian nations are not governed by christian principles; and what is still more sad and remarkable, the congregations and churches organized, and statedly meeting for christian worship, are, and profess to be, but in part converted to the spiritual dominion of Christ. Since God is omnipotent, and so benevolent as to be called "love" itself, why has he not expelled darkness and sin from the earth, and given a universal and complete triumph to the religion of the cross? If it be said that God has entrusted the work of evangelizing the nations to human agents, and they have proved unfaithful,-then the inquiry arises, Why has he entrusted it to such agents-why have not his benevolence and omnipotence united to speed the work by direct interpositions, or at least by adequate agencies?

There are two answers which may readily be given to these inquiries, according to the spirit in which they are made.

First, if they be made in the spirit of the unfaithful servant who was entrusted with the one talent, and refused to turn it to any profit, but went and hid it, because he believed his Lord to be an "aus