hereafter, at some very distant day; this city has ever afforded a field of operation and influence for teachers of a complexion like its own; and they have not been wanting in sufficient numbers and activity. And they have prevailed thus far, at the dreadful expense of the eternal welfare of thousands of souls.

Their motive, for I will not shrink from the truth, in excluding the reformers and reformations, the doctrines and principles of New-England, is not at all of a religious or moral nature. The love of truth, as I said above, does not produce persecution, enmity, pride, ill will, disdain, overreaching, undermining, intrigue. They deceive the people of this city by assuming false and specious motives; and never was deception more exquisite, more profound, or imposition more gross and triumphant. Were they actuated by the love of truth and the fear of error, very different would be their aspect and behaviour. But it is the love of self, and the fear of a rival, that urges them on. It is ambition to acquire and maintain a poor, wretched, shortlived, pitiful, ghostly power and influence over men.

They feel little of the love of truth, or the love of God, or the love of men, in this unhallowed system of opposition and intrigue. The word of God out of the question, were they influenced by human authorities, they might blush for the course they are pursuing. The names of Fuller, and Hall, and Jay, and Ryland, are sufficient to show them, that the sentiments they oppose are not without the support of talents and eloquence beyond the Atlantic, in a comparison with which, I leave them to find a place for themselves, if they can.

It is not the love of truth by which they are led; they therefore know, and have studied well, the chequered part they are to actthe tortuous course they must pursue. They know in what companies to be all meekness, gentleness, condescension, and humility; so that a harmless, credulous soul, will compare one of them to John the beloved disciple, another to Moses the meek lawgiver. They know when and how to burn with devotion; to soar in flights of faith; to appropriate all the promises to themselves; to knock at the gates of heaven with violence, and boldly demand a seat near the filial throne. Ah! says one, it is surely Daniel or Isaiah come from heaven; says another, it is a second Elijah

in his fiery car; or, says a third, more like St. Paul wrapt in the third heavens.*

Would that I could stop here; but there is another part to this picture and in the sight of heaven I will not shun to declare the whole truth. As far as I have gone, they very often hear from their flatterers:-they shall hear the rest from a better friend than a flatterer. They know when and how to change their dove-like plumage into scales, and their snowy fleece into brindled spots, and threatening fangs. There is but a little distance between a sigh and a hiss, or between a smile and a grin :—and once a hiss was succeeded by a stab. They know how to dart on their victim like a basilisk from the sand, or to reach him like a Scythian with an arrow from behind a hedge. A man engaged in his own concerns, unsuspecting and unprotected, is their favourite mark. And let the public know, as there is one man who dares to say what he knows, that I have not made one of these assertions without a correspondent fact in my eye.

The people of this city are entitled to know the grounds of this whole business; they ought to know it, and they shall know it, if they will read. The men in this city who hold to what is usually styled New-England sentiments, have entered into no dispute with any one. They have with all possible endeavours cultivated the friendship and esteem of those who differed from them. They have even generally avoided entering on disputed points, in their own churches, that they might avoid all appearance of controversy. What has been the consequence? They have been attacked with great virulence and hostility, and in a manner, in short, which justifies every thing which has been said in these numbers.

But they are accused of great errors. What are their errors? Why, they hold to a general atonement. So does a great portion of the protestant church. The sentiment is clearly taught in the scriptures. They cannot even show that Calvin himself held differently. Most of the standard writers since the reformation hold the same. Well-they deny original sin. This is not true. They deny imputation of guilt and a transfer of character; and

• One of them has been denominated the St. Paul of America.

so did Calvin. And if any one will examine the opinions of the reformers, together with their confessions of faith, he will perceive the doctrine of imputation by no means prevalent or general among them. They held to the original and entire corruption of human nature, by the fall, and so do we.

In a word, the preceding remarks apply with equal force also to the doctrine of depravity. But, why is all this uproar? A majority of the Synod of New-York and New-Jersey are full in the sentiments I have advanced. And will these people unchurch the Synod, and turn them out of doors? The General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church may be nearly equally divided: though in that body, the number in favour of what I consider correct sentiments is rapidly increasing.

In a general survey of the protestant church in America, these men cannot pretend to a majority. But having acquired a little influence in this city, their arrogance and presumption seem inclined to leap over all bounds. Were they inclined to fair and open controversy, they would be answered to their satisfaction; but they desire no such thing. Their plan and their hope is by maneuvering, by secret working behind the curtain, by art and intrigue, to undermine the reputation of the men who hold to the sentiments which prevail in New-England, and drive them from the city.

The question is, whether they will succeed. All triumph, short of the triumph of truth and righteousness, is as shortlived as it is impotent and vain. There was a day when the parasites of Hildebrand adored him as the vicegerent of Christ, and as the lord of men's consciences. We may turn to the page of history, which represents him parading through the streets of Rome, like a blazing star; the triple diadem sparkling on his head, and the imperial purple floating from his shoulders. The thrones of Europe shook when he frowned; and monarchs were obsequious to his powerful mandate. There, one would be ready to say, was solid food for ambition; there was an object worthy of toil and intrigue. But he vanished like a dream! Ages have rolled away since he went to his final audit before that God who respects not the persons of princes.

"I saw the wealthy wicked boast,

"Till at thy frown he fell;

"His honours in a dream are lost,

"And he awakes in hell."

Is there a menial slave, of piety and virtue, who followed at a distance the chariot of Gregory the Seventh, whose character and destiny any christian would not prefer to that of this spiritual tyrant?

The worst that can befall an ambitious spirit, is to succeed in his utmost plans and wishes. But, whether he fail or succeed, he is more an object of pity than resentment. And from my soul I pity these busy men, the very vital principle of whose scheme is selfishness and ambition; for, could they achieve what they aim at, it is but the tinsel of power, spread thinner than ever the gold beater spread his leaf: could they gain all they seek for, and for which they dig, and climb, and creep, and whisper, and trim; for which they have in store a thousand smiles, and frowns, and sighs, and hisses, and winks, and nods, and flatteries, and threats, it would all evaporate in a few blasts of applause, not made of the purest breath; it would perish

"Like the baseless fabric of a vision,
"And leave not a wreck behind,"

But, should it be seriously asked what evidence there is that ambition is at the bottom of this conduct; I reply, that this, and this only, is sufficient to account for what they do; God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him. The whole conduct of these men is such as might be expected from an ambitious man, labouring to supplant his rival and enemy. They show no love nor condescension-no meekness nor humility-no openness nor magnanimity. If you condescend, they vapour-if you resist, they are enraged-if yon retreat, they pursue and if you submit, they triumph.

Ambition, always vain, was never vainer than in this case. What if they triumph? There is not the splendid chariot, the triumphal arch, the adoring millions; there is not the crown of Hildebrand, heavy with gold and gems-his splendid throne and

imperial robes, in expectance. Nor does this base contention portend a crown in heaven, or celestial robes of light and glory.

The sincere friend of truth may humbly repose his confidence in the God of truth, though his foes are numerous, strong, and active. And I place full confidence in the belief, that correct sentiments will prevail; that they will not be rooted out of this city. Neither the pitchy, midnight cloud of the eleventh, nor the early dawn of the sixteenth century, are to return; nor are the discoverers and improvers of the eighteenth century to be compelled, like Gallileo and Copernicus, to retract their discoveries, in order that the champions of selfishness may rule the church a little longer. Civil rulers have learned that they can make shift to wield the sword and sceptre, and are in no dread of a peal of thunder from the Vatican; nor are they in need of monks and inquisitors at their elbow, to point out the victims of the mother of harlots. The amusements of the auto-de-fe are past; and, as for the ghostly lords and umpires of conscience, they are never more to return. The faithful witnesses of truth are no more dragged to the anvil, that their chains and fetters may be made fast; nor are these moral blacksmiths longer to rivet their fetters on the mind, made for free and liberal discussion,

But, defeated as Satan and his angels, and all his legions of spiritual despots, emissaries, and abettors are; dislodged from their main fortresses; driven from the open field, and ferreted from glens, coverts, and fastnesses, it is astonishing to see the activity, the incredible zeal, boldness, and desperation of their expiring efforts. They can no more endure the light than ghosts and goblins can abide the approach of morning; it discloses their frightful features, and pierces them through with intolerable pain. Yet, in their ardour to maintain even a hairbreadth of ground, or perhaps to bring off the body of Patroclus, or some hero slain, they forget that they can do nothing but in darkness, and bolt fairly out into open day. What do we see?-Their whole panoply!--You might nearly take their description from Ossian's cloudy ghost: "Their sword is a pale meteor, without edge or point-their spear is mist"-their breastplate, made of something