and it is at once intrenched in interests and attachments, which make it extremely difficult for the most powerful artillery of reason to dislodge it. It becomes a point of honor in the leaders of such parties, which is from thence communicated to their followers, to defend and support their respective peculiarities to the last; and as a natural consequence, to shut their ears against all the pleas and remonstrances by which they are assailed. Even the wisest and best of men are seldom aware how much they are susceptible of this sort of influence; and while the offer of a world would be insufficient to engage them to recant a known truth, or to subscribe an acknowleded error, they are often retained in a willing captivity to prejudices and opinions, which have no other support, and which, if they could lose sight of party feelings, they would almost instantly abandon. To what other cause can we ascribe the attachment of Fenelon and of Pascal, men of exalted genius, and undoubted piety, to the doctrine of transubstantiation, and other innumerable absurdities of the Church of Rome? It is this alone which has ensured a sort of immortality to those hideous productions of the human mind, the shapeless abortions of night and darkness, which reason, left to itself, would have crushed in the moment of their birth.

It is observable, that scientific truths make their way in the world, with much more ease and rapidity than religious. No sooner is a philosophical opinion promulgated, than it undergoes at first a severe and rigorous scrutiny; and if it is found to coincide with the results of experiment, it is speedily adopted, and quietly takes its place among the improvements of the age. Every acquisition of this kind is considered as a common property; as an accession to the general stores of mental opulence. Thus the knowledge of nature, the further it advances from its head, not only enlarges its channel by the accession of tributary streams, but gradually purifies itself from the mixture of error. If we search for the reason of the facility, with which scientific improvements establish themselves in preference to religious, we shall find it in the absence of combination, in there being no class of men closely united, who have an interest, real or imaginary, in obstructing their progress. We hear, it is true, of parties in the republic of letters; but if such language is not to be considered as entirely allusive and metaphorical, the ties which unite them are so slight and feeble, compared to those which attach to religious societies, as scarcely to deserve the name. The spirit of party was much more sensibly felt in the ancient schools of philosophy than in modern, on account of philosophical inquiries embracing a class of subjects, which are now considered as no longer belonging to its province. Before revelation appeared, whatever is most deeply interesting in

the contemplation of God, of man, or of a future state, fell under the cognizance of philosophy; and hence, it was cultivated with no inconsiderable portion of that moral sensibility, that solicitude and alternation of hope and fear, respecting an invisible state, which are now absorbed by the gospel. From that time, the departments of theology and philosophy have become totally distinct; and the genius of the former, free and unfettered.

In religious inquiries, few feel themselves at liberty to follow, without restraint, the light of evidence, and the guidance of truth, in consequence of some previous engagement with a party; and though the attachment to it might originally be purely voluntary, and still continues such, the natural love of consistency, the fear of shame, together with other motives sufficiently obvious, powerfully contribute to perpetuate and confirm it. When an attachment to the fundamental truths of religion is the basis of the alliance, the steadiness, constancy, and perseverance it produces, are of the utmost advantage; and hence, we admire the wisdom of Christ, in employing and consecrating the social nature of man in the formation of a church. It is utterly impossible, to calculate the benefits of the publicity and support, which Christianity derives from that source; nor will it be doubted, that the intrepidity evinced in confessing the most obnoxious truths, and enduring all the indignities and sufferings which result from their promulgation, is in a great measure to be ascribed to the same cause. The concentration of the wills and efforts of Christians, rendered the church a powerful antagonist to the world. But when the Christian profession became split and divided into separate communities, each of which, along with certain fundamental truths, retained a portion of error, its reformation became difficult, just in proportion to the strength of these combinations. Religious parties imply a tacit compact, not merely to sustain the fundamental truths of revelation, (which was the original design of the constitution of a church) but also to uphold the incidental peculiarities by which they are distinguished. They are so many ramparts or fortifications, erected in order to give security and support to certain systems of doctrine and discipline, beyond what they derive from their native force and evidence.

The difficulty of reforming the corruptions of Christianity is great, in a state of things, where the fear of being eclipsed, and the anxiety in each denomination to extend itself as much as possible, engage, in spite of the personal piety of its members, all the solicitude and ardor which are not immediately devoted to the most essential truths; where correct conceptions, on subordinate subjects, are scarcely aimed at, but the particular views which the party has adopted, are either objects of indolent acquiescence, or

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zealous attachment. In such a state, opinions are no otherwise regarded, than as they affect the interest of a party; whatever conduces to augment its members, or its credit, must be supported at all events; whatever is of a contrary tendency, discountenanced and suppressed. How often do we find much zeal expended in the defence of sentiments, recommended neither by their evidence nor their importance, which, could their incorporation with an established creed be forgotton, would be quietly consigned to oblivion. Thus the waters of life, instead of that unobstructed circulation which would diffuse health, fertility, and beauty, are diverted from their channels, and drawn into pools and reservoirs, where, from their stagnant state, they acquire feculence and pollution.

The inference we would deduce from these facts is, that if we wish to revive an exploded truth, or to restore an obsolete practice, it is of the greatest moment to present it to the public, in a manner least likely to produce the collision of party. But this is equivalent to saying, in other words, that it ought not to be made the basis of a sect; for the prejudices of party are always reciprocal, and in no instance is that great law of motion more applicable, that re-action is always equal to action, and contrary_thereWhile it is maintained as a private opinion, by which I mean one not characteristic of a sect, it stands upon its proper merits, mingles with facility in different societies, and in proportion to its evidence, and the attention it excites, insinuates itself like leaven, till the whole is leavened.

to.

Such, it should seem, was the conduct of the Baptists before the time of Luther. It appears, from the testimony of ecclesiastical historians, that their sentiments prevailed to a considerable extent among the Waldenses and Albigenses, the precursors of the Reformation, to whom the crime of anabaptism is frequently ascribed, among other heresies; it is probable, however, that it did not prevail universally; nor is there the smallest trace to be discovered of its being made a term of communion. When the same opinions on this subject were publicly revived in the sixteenth century, under the most unfavorable auspices, and allied with turbulence, anarchy, and blood, no wonder they met with an unwelcome reception, and that, contemplated through such a medium, they incurred the reprobation of the wise and good. Whether the English Baptists held at first any part of the wild and seditious sentiments of the German fanatics, it is difficult to say; supposing they did, (of which I am not aware there is the smallest evidence) it is certain they soon abandoned them, and adopted the same system of religion with other non-conformists, except on the article of baptism. But it is much to be lamented, that they con

tinued to insist on that article as a term of communion, by which they excited the resentment of other denominations, and facilitated the means of confounding them with the German Anabaptists, with whom they possessed nothing in common, besides an opinion on one particular rite. One feature of resemblance, however, joined to an identity of name, was sufficient to surmount, in the public feeling, the impression of all the points of discrepancy or of contrast, and to subject them to a portion of the infamy attached to the ferocious insurgents of Munster. From that period, the success of the Baptist sentiments became identified with the growth of a sect, which, rising under the most unfavorable auspices, was entirely destitute of the resources of worldly influence, and the means of popular attraction; and an opinion which, by its native simplicity and evidence, is entitled to command the suffrages of the world, was pent up and confined within the narrow precincts of a party, where it laboured under an insupportable weight of prejudice. It was seldom examined by an impartial appeal to the sacred oracles, or regarded in any other light, than as the whimsical appendage of a sect, who disgraced themselves at the outset, by the most criminal excesses, and were, at no subsequent period, sufficiently distinguished by talents or numbers, to command general attention.

Nothing is more common, than for zeal to overshoot its mark. If a determined enemy of the Baptists had been consulted on the most effectual method of rendering their principles unpopular, there is little doubt but that he would have recommended the very measures we have pursued; the first and most obvious effect of which has been to generate an inconceivable mass of prejudice in other denominations. To proclaim to the world our determination, to treat as "heathen-men and publicans," all who are not immediately prepared to concur with our views of baptism, what is it less, than the language of hostility and defiance, admirably adapted to discredit the party which exhibits, and the principles which have occasioned such a conduct? By thus investing these principles with an importance which does not belong to them, by making them co-extensive with the existence of a church, they have indisposed men to listen to the evidence by which they are supported; and attempting to establish by authority, the unanimity which should be the fruit of conviction, have deprived themselves of the most effectual means of producing it. To say, that such a mode of proceeding is not adapted to convince, that refusing Pædobaptists the right of communion has no tendency to produce a change of views, is to employ most inadequate language; it has a powerful tendency to the contrary; it can scarcely fail to produce impressions most unfavorable to the system

with which it is connected, impressions which the gentlest minds find it difficult to distinguish from the effects of insult and degradation.

It is not, however, merely by this sort of re-action, that prejudice is excited, unfavorable to the extension of our principles; but by the instinctive feelings of self-defence. Upon the system of strict communion, the moment a member of a Pædobaptist church becomes convinced of the invalidity of his infant baptism, he must deem it obligatory upon him to relinquish his station, and dissolve his connexion with the church; and as superiority of ministerial talents and character is a mere matter of preference, but duty a matter of necessity, he must at all events connect himself with a Baptist congregration, whatever sacrifice it may cost him, and whatever loss he may incur. Though his pastor should pos sess the profundity and unction of an Edwards, or the eloquence of a Spencer, he must quit him for the most superficial declaimer, rather than be guilty of spiritual fornication. How is it possible for principles fraught with such a corollary, not to be contemplated with anxiety by our Pædobaptist brethren, who, however they might be disposed to exercise candor towards our sentiments, considered in themselves, cannot fail to perceive the most disorganizing tendency in this their usual appendage. Viewed in such a connexion, their prevalence is a blow at the very root of Padobaptist societies, since the moment we succeed in making a convert, we disqualify him for continuing a member. We deposit a seed of alienation and discord, which threatens their dissolution; so that we need not be surprised if other denominations should be tempted to compare us to the Euphratean horsemen in the Apocalypse, who are described as "having tails like scorpions, and with them they did hurt."

To these causes we must undoubtedly impute the superior degree of prejudice displayed by that class of Christians, to whom we make the nearest approach, compared to such as are separated from us by a wider interval. A disposition to fair and liberal concession on the points at issue, is almost confined to the members of established churches; and while the most celebrated Episcopal divines, both Popish and Protestant, as well as those of the Scotch church, feel no hesitation in acknowledging the import of the word baptize is to immerse, that such was the primitive mode of baptism, and that the right of infants to that ordinance is rather to be sustained on the ground of ancient usage than the authority of Scripture, our dissenting brethren are displeased with these concessions, deny there is any proof that immersion was ever used in primitive times, and speak of the extension of baptism to infants