a nation, losing sight of our common welfare, and sacrificing the general, on the altar of partial interest, the day of our ruin is not remote.  Its awful morn, has, already, it seems, dawned with streaks of malignant light, and (like ill fated Troy) ominous of the purple streams, the crimson blood, that watered the Trojan plains where mighty Sarpedon fell, where Hector lay slain by the sword of Achilles.  Heaven forbid that our national sun, that rose so fair, should go down in blood, and shroud our temple of Liberty in everlasting night!  To avert such a catastrophe let us reform, and do our duty as individuals.  The safety of any body politic depends on the conduct of the individuals that compose it.  And God grant that these dissentions may cease, that political peace and harmony may become perfect, and our government may stand immoveable on its basis, like the rock that remains unshaken by the furious storms that agitate the ocean.  May we, as a nation, be of one mind in resisting every species of immorality, in studying the happiness of our fellow creatures—­of one mind in obtaining a knowledge of the character of our Creator, in studying his parental and benign government, and his divine attributes and unchanging perfections—­and be of one mind in acquainting ourselves with his beautiful works that swarm around us and afford us so many rational delights.  Let us store our minds with useful knowledge, practice the precept of Christ, labor for mental emancipation, and contentment and peace will be our lot.

In the great duties of religious obligation, let us be of one heart and mind.  Let us live like brethren, not only among ourselves, but among other denominations.  It is not long that we are to be together.  We are fading like the flower of the field, and ought to bear in mind that death will soon lay our heads equally low in the dust, and the worms shall cover us.  We glitter for a moment like the bubbles borne on the bosom of the ocean; they break and mingle again with the parent fountain.  We toil and heap up wealth, pass like empty shadows over the plain and vanish forever!  Generations, that covered the earth, are gone, and unremembered by the living.  They strove to gather wealth and honors—­they met each other in the hostile field—­rolled garments in blood, bedewed the widow’s and the orphan’s cheek with tears, and filled their peaceful habitations with the voice of lamentation and wo.  Thousands lived in clamors and discord, and one seemed destined to be oppressed by another.  But the fields of war are still, the noise of battle is hushed, and the voice of lamentation and wo is heard no more!  Hark!  All is still as the chambers of eternal silence!  Where are they?  In the shades of death!  Kind reader, this is the doom of us all!  And so it will soon be said of you and me!  Let us then be of one mind.  Let us do good by visiting the fatherless in their affliction and keeping ourselves unspotted from the world.