Production Note Cornell University Library produced this volume to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. It was scanned using Xerox software and equipment at 600 dots per inch resolution and compressed prior to storage using CCITT Group 4 compression. The digital data were used to create Cornell1s replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.48-1984. The production of this volume was supported in part by the New York State Program for the Conservation and Preservation of Library Research Materials and the Xerox Corporation. Digital file copyright by Cornell University Library 1994.A SERMON DELIVERED IN THE tisi 23b |&t. flrobgicriim C|itrc| SABBATH MORNING, APRIL 10, 1859, REV. FREDERICK G. CLARK, ON THE SEVENTH ANNIVERSARY OE HIS INSTALLATION. NEW YORK: I VISON & PHINNEY, 48 and 50 Walker Street. 1859.Baker & Godwin, Printers, Printing-House Square, opposite City Hall.TOPICS DISCUSSED ■+ A Church for the People, Our Seven Years’ Necrology, . Tribute to Elisha C. Wilcox, Appreciation a Duty, .... Yet often Denied us, The Church Commended, In its relation to Presbyterianism, To Debts of Gratitude and Faithfulness, To the Completion of its Work, The Workers a Unit, . . . Superior to Mercenary Motives, . Our Critics and their Criticisms, . The Triumphs of Charity, . . Church Mortgages a Despotism, . . . A Pecuniary Waste, . . . A Greater Spiritual Waste, ..... Our Present Work of Setting the Key Stone,New York, April 11 th, 1859. To the Rev. Frederick G. Clark. Bear Sir:—The undersigned, members of the West Twenty-Third Street Pres- byterian Church and Congregation, desire to express their sincere thanks to their Pastor, for his sermon of yesterday morning. What you have said was necessary, in our judgment, to do us justice. With your expressions of love towards all our brethren, we fully sympathize; and it is our prayer that we may ever be enabled to exemplify this spirit, towards all who love our common Lord. We respectfully solicit a copy of your discourse for publication. We highly appreciate the successful efforts of our Pastor for our temporal as well as spiritual prosperity; and we wish him to rest assured that his most reasonable request of yesterday will be complied with. The Subscription shall be completed, and the Keystone be set. Respectfully, yours, HENRY D. CRANE, T. D. LANDER, CALVIN H. MERRY, E. F. CLARK, JOSEPH THOMPSON, H. IVISON. H. D. RANNEY, DANIEL CRANE, J. A. BEARDSLEY, WM. DARROW, J. L. LUDLUM, J. E. BROWN, T. PALMER WHITNEY, B. F. DUNNING, H. W. ROBINSON. J. A. BENNET, J. D. BATES, R. SQUIRES, JAMES COCKS, Jr., ROBERT RUSSELL,NOTE. The Author affects no reluctance in complying with the foregoing request; since the Sermon is fairly the property of those for whose vindication and en- couragement it was prepared. Moreover, they have doubly justified any testi- monies of appreciation contained in it, by their method of response to its final appeal. After carrying enormous burdens for seven years, the arrangements for our complete relief from debt required a subscription, of between twelve and thirteen thousand dollars, on the part of the congregation. This was thought by some, to be a vastly difficult if not doubtful undertaking. Of course, it could, not be accomplished without great sacrifices. Yet the work has been done with a surprising ease and cheerfulness. Usually, the last few thousand dollars of so large a subscription are secured with increasing difficulty till the end. But such has been the unity of feeling on this subject, as also the readiness to make sacri- fices, that the deficit of four thousand dollars reported on the anniversary, was at once reduced to one thousand dollars; and this remainder melted away in the hands of the committee, until in five days the work was done. Yet few were urged to give. The subscriptions all came with spontaneous cheerfulness. In some cases it was felt a duty to decline propositions of self-denial on the part of donors, because the work could be done without the proposed sacrifices. But the arch of our success has another base. This is formed of that apprecia- tion and substantial co-operation which it is the habit of real Presbyterianism to inspire. The succors relied upon in this direction are at once unpledged, spon- taneous, generous, and self-collected. It is a pleasure to state, that this twofold arrangement for the relief of our church has been in all respects delicate and cheerful,—making a pleasure of duty. May God guide to its fullest consumma- tion that which has been so happily entered upon ! Our views upon the vast mischief of church-debts are freely expressed, in the hope of helping, though but a little, in the introduction of a doctrine which must yet be universal, viz.: that the church is bound to •pay her debts, and thus make her practice tally with her precepts. She owes a better example to the world. The time is coming when the absurdity of such chronic weakness as debts pro- duce, will no longer be tolerated. It will be understood that it is idle to dig wells without stoning them up; and that the general interests of religion are most effectively advanced by placing each individual church, so far as possible, in a position of independence and available usefulness. The West Twenty-third Street Church is now connected with the Presbytery of New York. vSERMON I. KING’S, Vi;, 38. “ So he was seven years in building it.” A single line here tells a voluminous story of labor and beneficence. Tbe mere fact of a great achievement comes in view, like the chiseled topstone of a splendid structure; while we are left to imagine what vast pro- portions of beauty and strength are displayed below. Those seven years of building,-—how full were they of stir and energy and large-hearted enterprise ! Hark to the din of axes and stone-sledges along the Phoenician shore! See Mount Lebanon quiver with the jar of eighty thousand wood-choppers at work upon her cedars! Seventy thousand bearers of burdens lug those huge timbers down the mountain, and carry them to Sidon. Great stones are pried from their beds, and rolled down to the stone-squarers of Solomon and of Hiram. And what a crowd of workmen cover the shore, as they heave along the beams and costly stones, and stow them in floats for their voyage to the Holy City! Ah, it is a great history of strain and toil; of giving and waiting; of God’s goodness and of man’s nobleness,—which we find wrapped in the folds of our little text.8 THE SEVEN YEAKS OF BUILDING. I need not tell you, Brethren, why I make these words my starting-point to-day. Our common interests and memories have already made their own interpreta- tion. It is seven years this hour since we began to work, and pray, and hope, and weep, and rejoice, to- gether. And when, a moment ago, I named the text, I knew well enough that the key was put into the lock of every heart to open the treasury of its tenderest and most earnest memories. "We instantly thought of the week of years which has just passed with us, and of its crowding suggestions. They have not been idle years; nor, thank God ! fruitless either, The tide of time has swept on, hastening its flow, if not increasing the noise of its waves. Our Saturday of the years has not been less full of work, or of effectiveness and success, than earlier periods of our labor. This, perhaps, will share more largely in our thoughts to-day than former years, which we have before reviewed. The themes which lie uppermost in mind, and seem to strive for utterance, are,— Our Work.—The Workers, and how they are appreciated.—Onr Critics, and their Criticisms. —The mischief of Church Debts.—And finally, the setting of the Key-stone, which is onr pre- sent task. I take up these themes in order, answering willingly to the demands of the occasion, and to the reasonable expectation that, at some time, some things should be said on subjects which deeply concern us all, and onTHE SEVEN YEAES OF BUILDING. 9 which, we have hitherto kept silence. Dipping my pen in mingled truth and love, I proceed to my work,—suf- ficiently assured of your earnest attention. I.—(§ur Murk. We think we know the lines and angles of our spiritual architecture, yet this is claiming more than falls to the lot of all good people. For, to know our- selves, and our place, hy divine appointment, on Zion’s walls, is no small attainment in Christian consciousness. To he satisfied with our work, he it more or less humhle, is a higher attainment still. Our business is not the mere founding of a church, hut the founding of a church . for the people. A CHURCH FOR THE PEOPLE. There are churches for the rich. They have their mission and their responsibilities. There are churches for the poor. These, too, have their place and their uses. Because both exist, we would recognize them as among the methods of Divine Providence; and ever pray that they may prosper and do their proper work. But neither of these types, as such, has any place in our creed. We do not find them in the Bible. Neither of them is our aim. Our business is the establishment of a church, where the poor and the rich shall meet together on common ground, acknowledging God as their Father and Jesus as their common Saviour. We desire a church in which the poor man may worship10 THE SEVEN TEARS OE BUILDING. without once being reminded of his poverty, either by what he hears or what he sees. We want a church to which the rich shall come,—not thinking of his wealth, or of wealthy and respectable surroundings,—but pro- foundly conscious of his common manhood among his , fellow-worshippers. Our doctrine is, that the apprecia- tion of man, as such, and as he stands related to the Atonement, is the great idea of the Gospel, and the lever which is to pry over the walls of despotism. Social evils, oppressions, grinding hardships, are to find their cure in the universal creed that all men are created in their Maker’s image; and that their common interests for time and eternity are incomparably superior to any interests which pertain to them as distinct grades or classes of society. It is no ghostly shadow, therefore, at which we aim. It is a great truth,—the common demand of humanity and of Christianity. But we freely concede that our work is environed with vast difficulties. Aristocracy is wool- dyed in man’s fallen nature. Caste is universal. It is not to be charmed out of society by honeyed words, or driven out by denunciation. It is an existence as real, and frigid, and as difficult to pass, as the ice-barriers of the open sea. Now and then, a brave passage may be made; but free access back and forth will be had only when the great sun of the Gospel has melted all down into a calm, warm ocean. Let us be patient. Christ’s Kingdom will surely come ! But meanwhile we must on with our work. It. is to bridge over the chasms ofTHE SEVEN TEAKS OE BUILDING. 11 society, and make footpaths at least between the frown- ing bluffs of wealth and poverty. By and by this abyss will be covered by the solid masonry of the coming Kingdom. Enough for us, if now and then we are per- mitted to see the angels of love walking on the fragile structures which we are trying to throw across. Our aim, then, as a church, is to realize the idea of simple Christian fellowship. In such an aim, we must not wonder that the work should be hard, or slow. Patience and hard work will accomplish it. Failure is not our danger, under God’s prospering hand. What we have most to fear is that our very success should de- ceive us ; and that prosperity may beguile us of our aim and reward. Against this peril we have the safeguard of an origin in the honest soil of Christian democracy. Our church was founded as a missionary church. The poor were in the ascendant. We are proud to say it. We hope no change of condition or character may ever lead us to forget that fact. Welcome the rich. We appreciate and we need their piety, their alms, their ability. But may the Savior’s inscription ever be read on our tablet:—“ The poor always ye have with you.” One other idea must have place. We believe the church is to stand in society a, fruit-tree, and not merely a shade-tree. A church may rise in beautiful propor- tions, towering aloft with broad branches and ample foliage. But its value is determined not by leaves only. Its usefulness is measured in the baskets which catch the fruits of Christian beneficence, as these are shaken down12 THE SEVEN TEAKS OP BUILDING. "by God’s alms-gatherers. Give ns, rather, gnarled and twisted trunks, and awkward limbs, and scanty shade, if every autumn makes the field merry with the fruit- gatherers’ song. Taste has its province and its uses. But the aesthetic element is not the highest in religion, as it is not in nature. The beauties of holiness lie in reverence towards God; while, towards men, they take the form of varied, ample, substantial, and welcome benefactions. II.—% Wnrhm. They are of two classes,—the absent and the present. And as we indulge in the reminiscences of this day, a cloud of witnesses seems to float gently down the air. Many dear ones come in mind; they stir again our hearts’ affections; they take their seats once more among us. We look in their faces. We read there, as of old, their warm sympathies and their earnest devotions. As we speak of them, the still air of the sanctuary seems almost stirred, as if angel wings were poised upon it. These are the living,—-no more to die,—whom we strangely call the dead. They rest from their labors, and their works live among us. OTTR SEYEH TEARS’ NECROLOGY. Ah, Brethren! we have a proud necrology in the his- tory of our seven years of toil! It has pleased God to give us the ripened fruit of many a Christian life. I13 THE SEVEN TEARS OP BUILDING. have often wondered at the ways of God with us in this respect. It has been onr lot to reap the legacies of death. We have had the sunset of holy lives as our portion. God’s long-tried and chastened servants have come among us in time to die, and leave us gazing at the beauty of their evening sky. If we have had but little of their lives, we have had bequeathed to us the aroma of their holy characters. Why was this, unless that in the forming period of this church we might have before us fair models of Christian excellence for our imitation % Why, unless that being so conversant with the holy dead, heaven might seem nearer, and we be made the better workers ? I count among God’s best gifts to us, those precious memories which are inwoven with our history. And I can truly say, that these memories do not fade. Our sainted helpers in Christ’s cause are very often with us. They mingle their influence with our daily thoughts. They stimulate our zeal. They whis- per counsels of hope and patience. Their prayers seem to hang over us as a protecting canopy, and very often we feel as if God were blessing us for our fathers’ sake. Their names are on our lips. We love to speak of them. They are not dead. They live still with us; and they live forever above, and shine as the stars. TRIBUTE TO ELISHA 0. WILCOX. And here, Brethren, my heart claims indulgence to pay its passing tribute to the latest risen of these stars. There is a fresh grave, sloping gently to the west, on the14: THE SEVEN TEAKS OF BUILDING. banks of the Connecticut. Young hopes and brilliant promises are buried there. We would not have made that grave so soon; but better wisdom and a higher love chose well the time. Nearest to that grave I see one broken heart—which may God bind up, and soothe and sanctify. Next around are clustered the grieved and lonely hearts of kindred. Not far without this circle are crowding round many Christian friends, to whom the departed was as a bro- ther. We find our place among these. We speak not merely of your pastor’s friend, but of your friend; of one whose kindness and good-will were known to every child in our Sabbath School. At bur first acquaintance, his house, like that of Jus- tus that worshipped God, joined hard to the synagogue. Sitting in his own chamber, he often heard our praises, and in spirit joined in our hymns. For a season he was a worshiper with us in this sanctuary. He easily learned to love our church. He was its earnest, stead- fast friend. Our membership does not furnish a truer or more generous friend than he, who was not a member. You are aware of the noble part he bore in our present successful effort to be rid of debt. Conversant with our fears and hopes, he gave us a substantial token of his appreciation. His hand touched our interests at their lowest state of exposure and depression. It often hap- pens that the force of circumstances throws vast interests for the moment into the hands of a single person. So, in our humble offices of duty and of love, we all are madeTHE SEVEN YEAES OF BUILDING. 15 links in God’s sublime chain of providences. Such was the case with this dear friend. His generous sympathy and his timely offers of succor were the lever which pried us out of the mire, and helped us joyfully along our way. For this reason, his memory must ever stand associated in my affections with the succoring angels of Gethsemane, of Hagar, and of Elijah under the juniper tree. He sowed the earliest seeds of hope in our season of depres- sion. So is he to be enrolled as one more of that goodly company whose memory must ever be fresh and lovely in this church. His friendship was unswerving and immovable to the last. In our latest conversation, before his sickness, he spoke of this occasion—expressed his intention to be present, and his great satisfaction in the recent movements and the present position and prospects of the church. He remembered us on the day of his death*—made arrangements for the carrying out of his kind intentions towards us—leaving to his survi- vors a legacy of substantial regard for us, which they will delight to execute. I have spoken elsewhere of his character. I will only add that my image of his qualities takes the form of a flowering vine covering a graceful wall. The de- formities of natural temperament often give a rudeness and irregularity to the workings of Christian principle. In his case, superior native qualities were sanctified and rendered thrice lovely, by the purifying and adorning power of grace. God help us to imitate his generosity, * Mr. Wilcox died in New York, March 9th, 1859.16 THE SITES TEARS OF BUILDING. and truthfulness, and gentleness, and earnestness of life in his Master’s service! Of our fellow-workers who yet survive, many have gone from us, carrying with them our most grateful regards—and rejoicing themselves in what they were permitted here to do. We hear of them, that they are still hard at work for Christ,—building churches else- where, and putting to effective service those principles of endurance and fidelity which acquired a new edge in the discipline of our work. III.—#f ^pTfriaiion We have some things to say; and these apply mainly to the workers who continue with us. A distinction is ever to he made between flattery, commendation, and appreciation. A virtuous mind scorns the first; the second it cannot always bear; the third it always wants. God claims the appreciation of his gifts. The most delicate charity may pause to see the receiver’s look of appreciation, if not of gratitude. APPRECIATION A DUTY. The Apostle gives a beautiful example on this point, when he says to the Hebrews, “ God is not unrighteous, to forget your work and labor of love, which ye have showed towards his name, in that ye have ministered to the Saints, and do minister.” One of the most exquisite incentives to fidelity and sacrifice in the path of duty isTHE SEVEN TEAES OF BUILDING. 17 the oft-repeated assurance, that the Master appreciates our endeavors whether men do or not. The cup of cold water shall not lose its reward. What was it to Mary when she brought her spikenard to Jesus, that some Christians disapproved her act and disparaged her piety ? It was enough, to have the approval of Christ, and that her name should go down through all genera- tions on the tide of his emphatic commendation. Who cannot bear the depreciation of man, when conscious of the appreciation of God ? It would be unreasonable in us to ask that we fare better than Mary did, or to expect the disciple to be above his Master. It would seem to us that the Jews had enough to do in rebuilding Jeru- salem, without the interference of the Samaritans. But God saw fit to drill them in the double service of hand- ling at once the trowel and the sword. Doubtless they were better and braver men for it. YET OFTEN DENIED US. In the providence of God, it has fallen out that even our humble work could not go forward to completion without some scenes which have reminded us of Nehe- miah, and his experiences. We have escaped the danger of that universal appreciation which leads all to speak well of us. The discipline of somebody’s disapproval is our best preventive against security and indolence. If censures are only positive enough, and are laid on libe- 218 THE seven yeaes of building. rally, let no one complain, so long as lie can keep a good conscience. For we can generally bear a hailstorm of reproach more easily than the whisper of censure. The first rouses the soul to resist and to endure—the other ■leaves it inert and passive, sodhat an ounce weight may burden it. In this regard also, we have reason for gratulation. If a storm has passed over our garden, it has not beaten down our vines, nor damaged our tender fruit. We have every reason to be calm and cheerful and loving, and to speak of the past without acerbity of feeling or expression. If it is ever incumbent upon a pastor to bestow upon Christian faithfulness a few words of honest commenda- tion, the present seems to be one of those occasions. I make no statements to explain the relevancy or necessity of what I am about to say. Let it all go for nothing to those who do not understand. As to the rest, he that hath ears to hear, let him hear. THE CHURCH COMMENDED. Brethren, your labors of love are appreciated. God appreciates them. So does your pastor. So do all who love your cause and have witnessed your temptations and your triumph. Few congregations are subjected to such a strain of heart and purse as you have experienced in our seven years’ labor. None could have met the test with more endurance and self-denial. I feel bound to commend your fidelity and steadfastness,—THE SEVEN YE AES OF BUILD IN 0. 19 1. First, as it respects your adherence to the Bible as your rule of faith, and to the principles of Presbyterian- ism as your formulae of creed and government. 2. Secondly, as to that co-operative element of our or- ganization, which makes the Presbytery a. bond of union, of sympathy, and of mutual aid, between the churches composing it. You have recognized this bond and the responsibilities it involves. You have made sacrifices to honor it. When over-burdened with the weight of your own concerns, you have always been forward and exem- plary in contributing, as you could, to suffering churches in the presbytery. 3. Thirdly, as to any debts of gratitude and faithful- ness. These you have discharged with scrupulous fidelity. Claims of this sort, whether expressed or implied, have been more than paid. Your arithmetic and your prin- ciples will bear the nicest auditing. Towards your pastor, the presbytery, the claims of workmen, the debts of substantial love to the poor, you have always con- ducted so as to deserve the commendation of all. Were it otherwise, I would blush for you, and despair of doing you good. For integrity and faithfulness and honor are the underpinning of all character; and the church can least of all spare them. In these respects, I ask no more of you than that you adhere to the principles you have so long exemplified, and that you show in future relations the same allegiance to gratitude and faithful- ness which you have shown in times past. 4. In the fourth place, you are entitled to commend-20 THE SEVEN TEAKS OF BUILDING. ation for yo ur fidelity and singleness of purpose in the establishment of this chw'ch, Your work has keen not merely to build the sanctuary, but to pay for it; and no church is established until this is done. You have, beside, gone steadily forward in developing the efficiency of the church in its various departments of duty and usefulness. This necessity has left you struggling with tremendous burdens, while the priest and the Levite passed by on the other side. The probabilities were a hundred to one against the stopping of a man of means to help in such a case. Yet you have held on,—have borne, and waited, and sacrificed, until now relief has come. The church has gained steadily against this ebb- tide, and to-day, I think, she will cast anchor in a safe harbor. The congregation has increased in spite of this centrifugal force; and to day we see, as we have never seen before, how much it is worth to be steadfast in a holy cause. In fidelity to this single aim, you have made sacrifices which cannot be counted in dollars. You have consented to be misunderstood and depre- ciated, rather than desist from your work. You have adhered to your self-denying plans of relief, although in the wisdom of some who did not know you nor your necessities, your fidelity was judged to be but pertinacity. Your deliberate purpose was “against their judgment.” They “ disapproved ” our letting go of the sheet-anchor. You have refused to waste your lives in tending a mill, with such a leaky race that not one third of the water ever reaches the 'overshot, You have believed thatTHE SEVEN TEAKS OF BUILDING. 21 when the traveler has gone seven years with a pebble in his shoe, shifting it daily from heel to toe, yet foot- sore -and wayworn still,—he is the best judge in the world whether he can bear it any longer. You have solemnly resolved to lay aside every weight, so that you could run with patience the race set before you. You have not thought it enough to satisfy your Christian ambition, to live along like an insect under a stone. You have elected a life out of prison, out of bonds, in the free air, with opportunity to: do something for others as well as for yourselves. You have had higher aspirations than to waste your best energies and means in hopelessly burning incense to your drag. To this single aim of achieving your freedom, you have clung with unswerving steadfastness. And to-day God smiles upon your heroic purpose, and you have your reward. THE WORKERS A UNIT. 5. Once more I commend you for your unity of feel- ing and of action under circumstances of great tempta- tion. This is attributable to God’s special care of us, and to the common effect of a common burden. The load which touches every man’s shoulder will hold every man in his place. He who does not feel the weight, will of course lose the step and get in the way. The strain and holding, and hoisting .all together, which fellow- laborers do, has a more than magic power of unity. It makes them feel alike. The workers who have been22 THE SETEN TEAKS OE BUILDING. engaged in onr enterprise, liave been drawn along by an attraction wbicb touched and drew each individual soul. This was a heavenly principle, and it has operated, as became a law of celestial science, upon each particle of the body it attracted. It has needed no leadership, nor persuasion, nor chicanery, to carry the workers along as a unit. In these trying circumstances, you have shown a power of cohesion which nothing could overcome. And this has been because of your common burdens as those who meant to see this church through its financial diffi- culties, at whatever allowable sacrifice to yourselves. You have known your work, your difficulties, your dan- gers, and your privileges, better than others could possibly understand them. Your obligations to God, to your pastor, to the vows which are recorded before this altar,—your vows as ruling elders and as covenant- ing members of this church,—-these have been those principles of our own which cannot be surrendered;— these, the sacred and solemn ties which could not be riven. SUPERIOR TO MERCENARY MOTIVES. 6. Finally, a word as to the unselfish fidelity which has made you superior to mercenary inducements. On this point I care only to say, that the aggregate amount of collections and subscriptions made in this congrega- tion during the past seven years, over and above pew- rents, is upwards of sixty-nine thousand dollars,—or, in23 THE SEVEN TEARS OE BUILDING. .round numbers, an average of nearly ten thousand dol- lars a year. I include in this estimate the four thousand dollars which I ask you, to-day, to subscribe, in order to complete the arrangements in progress for our relief, I will add that, in several instances, these gifts have been posthumous benefactions. Perhaps this statement is enough to meet any charge of being governed by mer- cenary motives, without taking into account our small beginnings seven years ago, and the fact that we had then but ninety-five communicants, a congregation of two hundred and fifty persons, and but sixty families, only four of whom were ever suspected of being rich. I will add, for my own satisfaction, that while I have often been pained at witnessing sacrifices which I could never have suggested or advised, I have, nevertheless, derived from this record of your benevolence an overwhelming argu- ment in favor of the truth and power of Christianity. I shall carry the force of this conviction to my grave. Brethren, believe it, Grod appreciates your ample charity; and it will yet receive a wider appreciation from men. In the prosecution of your holy work, you have made gold but as the dust you trod upon. You will not lose your reward. The effect of your fidelity, through all these trials, upon your pastor’s heart, he will not attempt to disclose. Brethren, the memory of your kindness, and truth, and honor, and Christian self-denial, will always be a casket of jewels, carried in my bosom ; to open it and look in will be a respite and a luxury. Accept to-day the well-24: the seven years op building. earned meed of appreciation. Believe yourselves sur- rounded, as you surely are, in the churches and ministers of our Presbytery, by cordial sympathies and unfeigned esteem. Strong and reliable friendships touch us on every side. We are environed by appreciations at once Christian, delicate, and substantial. They are worthy of your confidence, as they surely have it. And you are not unworthy of them. God help you prove this in the future, even more than you have done in the past! I have no higher wish in the case than to see this mutual confidence enhanced, honored, and sanctified, through the working of divine providence and grace. IV.—<®nr €ntics anb fjmr €ntxmm8 Claim here a few words. Thus far I have spoken of ourselves—and have uttered barely what has seemed to be demanded by truth and Christian frankness. I turn now to those who suggested and made necessary what I have said. They are brethren, honored and beloved in the Master’s service. By God’s grace, they have turned many to righteousness, and we believe they will shine as the stars forever and ever. We have no strife with them—no animosities, no latent wishes of ill towards them. We have put ourselves in their stead; have con- sidered their circumstances and their temptations as if they were our own; and in such a view, it is easy to for- give as we hope ever to be forgiven. We remember that our condemnation was an ecclesiastical necessity ;THE SEVEN TEARS OE BUILDING. 25 and this is as inexorable as a political one. Perhaps we ought, as we can afford, to bear it patiently. Our critics know and say privately many things which they cannot, of course, publicly concede. Nothing remains, then, but to let in the flood tides of Christian love to cover the marshes of misapprehension and dis- content. I would have you know that this is done. I think you will hear no unkind words from any honored brethren with whom we have had to do, either in differ- ences or reconciliations. Christian dignity calls for peace as loudly as Christian principle. And you will always find that good men, of fair size either in head or heart, are fond of peace. They cannot afford the mental dis- quietude of a single animosity lurking in the heart. There is, indeed, a class of persons, naturally fond of strife, who always linger around old battle-grounds. They pick up arrow-heads and splintered spears—and bore out the touch-holes of spiked guns, trying to fire them off once more, and so keep up a mimicry of war. It is all one to such whether the white or the red flag floats. . Partisans will be at strife, like the herdsmen of Abraham and of Lot, while their principals are on the most friendly terms. THE TRIUMPHS OF CHARITY. But, between truly Christian men-—who insist upon Christian behavior—variance cannot long continue. It must needs be that differences spring up sometimes from the soil of our infirmity; but it is the prerogative of love26 THE SEVEN TEAKS OF BUILDING. to make them very ephemeral. It is one of our highest earthly privileges to forgive. It is an imitation of God, which always lifts us up nearer to his throne. We would Willingly consent that variance should cease forever. And yet in one respect the earth would lose. For the sweetest fragrance of Christian love is often exhaled from flowers which have been bruised by the blasts of strife. We seldom realize the power of a storm more fully than when see the tide-water overflowing the banks at points so far inland as hardly to feel the wind. We know that an enormous pressure is somewhere laid upon the sea. And so are we made doubly conscious of the reality and power of the Gospel when we see that its influences rise along the rugged slopes of the most towering differences —filling every crevice, and out-topping every peak. Some of the richest vineyards of Italy are planted in soil which has been formed above vast lava deposits. Thus, by gracious over-rulement, may God make all things work together for good to them that love him—sancti- fying our very infirmities and faults, so that they shall decay and make a soil for the sweetest flowers of grace. Let it be understood, then, that we have only kind words and good wishes for all. We claim the privilege of peace and good-will. The upheavals of diversity in judgment may sometimes open a chasm right through the meadows of Christian society. But the charity of the Gospel proves a river which flows through and fills the channel, causing willows to sprout, until at lengthTHE SITES YEAES OF BUILDING. %l that fringe of foliage shall be the fairest, because the wildest, feature of the landscape. All honor to the reconciling power of the cross! It joins man to man, and men to God. Its lessons of love we can never pass in our celestial education. The more these lessons are repeated and practiced here, the better for us both on earth and in heaven. Let others take their choice, we will have no strifes to settle when we take our seats in glory. We should feel ashamed to reach out and shake hands with one Ave had here refused to love. Strife is at home on earth. But to the real followers of Jesus, strife is as much a shame here as it will seem to be in heaven. Let us, then, bear all things—hope all things—and, through all things, love—-for charity never faileth. Love will be eternity’s employ. Thank God, that by loving and forgiving, we can have so much of heaven before- hand! V.—Sttthtg xif % ftcgsfmw, Is the work to which we now address ourselves. In the case of Solomon’s Temple the record is, that “ the house was finished throughout all the parts thereof, and according to all the fashion of it.” It is to be re- gretted that this cannot oftener be said of our Christian sanctuaries. They are very apt to lack the keystone of completion; and, so with all their costliness and beauty, they are liable to tumble down again. ' Keystones are usually heavy, and elaborate; and they belong at the28 THE SEVEN TEAES OE BUILDING. top of the arch, so requiring the greatest stretch of hoist- ing power. Moreover the workmen are supposed to be tired, at about the proper time of setting the keystone. Indeed, a stronger reason yet is apt to exist. Somehow, the stone is not there. It has not yet come from the stone yard; or perhaps it is yet asleep in the quarry. In such circumstances it is common to fill the niche with something found lying around. Generally the builders put in a thing called The Mortgage. CHURCH MORTGAGES A DESPOTISM. This done, the rubbish is cleared away. The struc- ture is given to God, and is applied to its sacred uses. The arch at length is thought to hold up pretty well without the keystone. In fact, some think the mortgage far better. It is there. It costs less. And, then, it is hard to get it down, and harder yet to put the keystone up. The building accounts are closed, and no one is dis- posed to open them again. In fine, it is agreed to say no more about it—and that every one shall think and feel and talk just as if the keystone were in its place, and the arch completed. But somehow, we never hear the last of that same mortgage. It is thought of. It is talked about. It frets and chafes continually the minds of perhaps nine men who are called trustees; by which we mean, those who attend to the disagreeable and expensive part of the establishment, and who are expected never to speak ofTHE SEVEN YE AES OP BUILDING. 29 their troubles. That mortgage becomes, by arid by, the most influential thing about the church. It is but a piece of paper. Not three men in the congregation ever saw it. It is stowed away in some dark vault, and has a dozen curious bolts turned on it. It could escape from the dungeons of the Inquisition as easily as from its pre- sent place. And yet that same piece of paper becomes the terror of the community. It drinks up like a sponge the thoughts, affections, and energies of the people. It stands at the church door, like the angel in Balaam’s path, and makes the approaching worshipers pass on to some church where there, is no mortgage. It builds itself a throne in the sanctuary, and thence looks down with stern eyes, which remind us of the New-England tithing-» man, who once kept order in the meeting-house. It puts its hand over the plates when missionary collections are taken up, and says, “Not too much; that quarter’s inte- rest falls due next month, and you must have a subscrip- tion to raise it.” It reviews the card of benevolent col- lections, and strikes off what causes it will, that there may not be too many. It forbids enlarging the Sunday school room, although that swarms with children ; and it is opposed to mission schools, because these things are accomplished by that same money which the mort- gage must have. This same piece of paper has a won- drous power of transmutation. It transforms itself into a heavy and impalpable mist, and floats off into the pas- tor’s study. It affects his spirits. It clogs his brain. It hinders all his plans of usefulness for the church. It holdsso THE SEVEN TEAKS OF BUILDING. him with inexorable force on the very border’s of a hun- dred useful projects—forbidding him to cross one of them, until the debt is paid. It depreciates him in his own eyes, until it takes half his mental energies to keep his brain in working order. It at length depreciates him everywhere. And as to the changing of pastoral rela- tions, it makes sport of them; and like the centurion says “ to this man, Go, and he goeth ; and to another, Come, and he cometh.” The sacred affections which belong to those relations are no more in its path than so much flax before the flame. At length the pastor’s vacation comes. He goes away to gather ideas and health among the mountains. t He climbs the beetling crags, from which he scares the eagle, and then looks off upon God’s world, and feels his soul growing larger with every breath. ' He forgets how long he as been a slave. He is a free- man now. But very soon he thinks of his people. It is for them he studies in Nature’s school. He looks around for them. He breathes in that mountain air that he may breathe it out again upon them. He stores his mind, his imagination, his taste, with ideas and illustra- tions which he dedicates to them. But see his counten- ance changing ! His eye is less glowing. His heart less swelling. He muses. The great panorama ceases to charm him. The mind has gone in upon itself. It has found some gloomy associations. What are they ? Ah, the mortgage is there ! It has climbed the mountain with him. It has put its veil over his eyes, dimming the31 THE SEVEN TEAES OF BUILDING. glories of nature. The thought of his dear people was one link in the chain of association; the next, and the next succeeded, and then came the great fact that he would go home only to be a slave again, and crouch be- neath the sceptre of that same old mortgage. A PECUNIAET WASTE. But mortgages have one felicity. It is in their name. This could not be improved. Giving the word a free translation, it reads, a death-pledge. What could be so happy and significant! They pledge, bind, covenant and deliver over to death, in fee simple, all the rights, interests, and spiritual hopes of the churches they rest upon ; that is, unless these institutions prove to be pay- ing ones. If so, well enough. But there are some stub- born facts on this point. I addressed a note of inquiry to a venerable minister, who has gathered statistics on this subject. His reply will be a homily on this word mortgage. “It would be very difficult,” he remarks, “to ascer- tain the amount of money actually lost by reason of church debts, in this city; and if put down at half a million of dollars within the last fifty years, it would not exceed the truth, as I judge. “In my ‘History of the Churches of New York,’* published in 1846, it is stated that about sixty churches * By the Rev. Jonathan Greenleaf, of Brooklyn, N. Y.32 THE SEVEN TEAKS OP BUILDING. in various denominations liave once been organized, and have now become extinct. A part of these only had regular church-buildings; but in most cases, those which had church edifices were obliged to sell them at a great sacrifice, and to pay their debts; or, they were sold by the sheriff, under foreclosure of mortgage. Some of these church edifices were bought by other denomina- tions, and are still occupied as houses of worship; but to the great loss of the original builders. Others were bought by enterprising men, who have removed them, or taken them down, to erect stores or dwellings ; while others have become dining saloons, theatres, auction rooms, livery stables,