lly
so much of a philosopher, that he can conceive of truth in its abstract
purity, and divest life and the affections of all the aids of the
imagination? If they who strip the worship of God of its factious grace,
earnestly presented themselves in the garb of moral humility, rendering
their familiar professions conformable to their general tenets, and
stood before us as destitute of self-esteem as they are of ornament, one
might not so much feel the nakedness of their rites; but, as a rule, the
less graceful the forms and the more intense the spirituality of the
minister of the altar become, the higher is his tone of denunciation and
the more palpable his self-righteousness. In point of fact, when the
proper spirit prevails, forms, of themselves, become of little account;
and when men begin to deem them otherwise, it is proof rather of the
want, than of the excess, of the humility and charity which are the
inseparable companions of faith. I do not say that I would imitate all
the unmeaning and irreverent practices of the Romish church; and least
of all could one wish to see the devout and solemn manner of the
Protestant ministering at the altar supplanted by the unintelligible
mumblings of the Latin breviaries: but why have we denounced the holy
symbol of the cross, the ornaments of the temple, the graceful attire,
and the aid of music? It is impossible, I think, for the American, who
has visited Europe, not to feel the want of edifices reared in honour of
God, which everywhere exists in his own country. I do not mean churches,
in which the comfort and convenience of the pew-holders have been mainly
consulted, for these pious speculations abound; but _temples_ to mark a
sense of the superiority of the Deity, and which have been reared in his
honour. It may be easy enough to account for the absence of such
buildings, in a country so peopled and still so young, but this does not
make the deficiency the less obvious.

In this hemisphere, scarcely a village is approached, that the high roof
and towers of a church do not form its nucleus, the temple appearing to
spread its protection over the humbler abodes of men. The domes, the
pointed and lofty arches, and the Gothic tracery of cathedrals, soar
above the walls of cities, and everywhere man is congregated, he appears
to seek shelter under the wide-spreading wings of the church. It is no
argument to say that true religion may exist without these edifices, for
infidelity ma