bathes the world as with a river, and
prepares his eyes again for the crimson dawn."
How softly the phrases of the gentle iconoclast steal upon the ear,
and how they must have hushed the questioning audience into pleased
attention! The "Song of Songs, which is Solomon's," could not have wooed
the listener more sweetly. "Thy lips drop as the honeycomb: honey and
milk are under thy tongue, and the smell of thy garments is like the
smell of Lebanon." And this was the prelude of a discourse which, when
it came to be printed, fared at the hands of many a theologian, who did
not think himself a bigot, as the roll which Baruch wrote with ink from
the words of Jeremiah fared at the hands of Jehoiakim, the King of
Judah. He listened while Jehudi read the opening passages. But "when
Jehudi had read three or four leaves he cut it with the penknife, and
cast it into the fire that was on the hearth, until all the roll was
consumed in the fire that was on the hearth." Such was probably the fate
of many a copy of this famous discourse.
It is reverential, but it is also revolutionary. The file-leaders of
Unitarianism drew back in dismay, and the ill names which had often been
applied to them were now heard from their own lips as befitting this
new heresy; if so mild a reproach as that of heresy belonged to this
alarming manifesto. And yet, so changed is the whole aspect of the
theological world since the time when that discourse was delivered that
it is read as calmly to-day as a common "Election Sermon," if such are
ever read at all. A few extracts, abstracts, and comments may give the
reader who has not the Address before him some idea of its contents and
its tendencies.
The material universe, which he has just pictured in its summer beauty,
deserves our admiration. But when the mind opens and reveals the laws
which govern the world of phenomena, it shrinks into a mere fable and
illustration of this mind. What am I? What is?--are questions always
asked, never fully answered. We would study and admire forever.
But above intellectual curiosity, there is the sentiment of virtue. Man
is born for the good, for the perfect, low as he now lies in evil and
weakness. "The sentiment of virtue is a reverence and delight in the
presence of certain divine laws.--These laws refuse to be adequately
stated.--They elude our persevering thought; yet we read them hourly in
each other's faces, in each other's actions, in our own remorse.--The
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