dition that he should never see you? Would you be satisfied with his goodness, and with his mercy, were he, for ever to banish you from his presence? For you well know that he will treat you, as you shall have treated your brother. Would you think yourself much in favour with the prince, were he to forbid you ever to present yourself before him? You constantly say, that a man is in disgrace, when he is no longer permitted to appear before the master; and you pretend to persuade us that you love your brother, and that no rancour remains in your heart against him, while his sole presence displeases and irritates you.
And what less equivocal mark can be given of animosity against your brother, than that of being unable to endure his presence? It is the very extreme of hatred and of rancour. For many settled hatreds exist, which yet are kept under a kind of check; are, as far as possible, concealed, and even borrow the outward semblance of friendship and of decency; and, though unable to reconcile the heart to duty, yet have sufficient command over themselves, to preserve appearances to the world. But your hatred is beyond all restraint; it knows neither prudence, caution, nor decency; and you pretend to persuade us that it is now no more! you still show the most violent proofs of animosity, and even these you would have us to consider as the indubitable signs of a Christian and sincere love!
But, besides, are Christians made to live estranged, and unconnected with each other? Christians! the members of one body, the children of the same Father, the disciples of the same Master, the inheritors of the same kingdom, the stones of the same building, the particles of the same mass! Christians! the participation of one same spirit, of one same redemption, of one same righteousness! Christians! sprung from one bosom, regenerated in the same water, incorporated in the same church, redeemed by one ransom, — are they made to fly each other, to make a punishment of seeing each other, and to be unable to endure each other? All religion binds, unites us together; the sacraments in which we join, the public prayers and thanksgivings which we sing, the ceremonies of that worship in which we pride ourselves, the assembly of believers at which we assist; all these externals are only symbols of that union which ties us together. All religion itself is but one holy society, a divine communication of prayers, of sacrifices, of works, and of well-doings. Every thing connects and unites us, every thing tends to make, of our brethren and of us, only one family, one body, one heart, and one soul; and you believe that you love your brother, and that you preserve, with respect to him, all the most sacred ties of religion, while you break through even those of society, and that you cannot endure even his presence?
I say much more: how shall you indulge the same hope with him? For, by that common hope, you are eternally to live with him, to make his happiness your own, to be happy with him, to be reunited with him in the bosom of God, and with him to sing the eternal praises of grace. Ah! how could the hope of being
