BRITISH CHURCH.

It is something extraordinary, that the only symptom of alarm in the

Church of England should appear in the petition of some dissenters; with

whom, I believe, very few in this house are yet acquainted; and of whom

you know no more than that you are assured by the honourable gentleman,

that they are not Mahometans. Of the Church we know they are not, by the

name that they assume. They are then dissenters. The first symptom of an

alarm comes from some dissenters assembled round the lines of Chatham;

these lines become the security of the Church of England! The honourable

gentleman, in speaking of the lines of Chatham, tells us that they serve

not only for the security of the wooden walls of England, but for the

defence of the Church of England. I suspect the wooden walls of England

secure the lines of Chatham, rather than the lines of Chatham secure the

wooden walls of England.

Sir, the Church of England, if only defended by this miserable petition

upon your table, must, I am afraid, upon the principles of true

fortification, be soon destroyed. But fortunately her walls, bulwarks,

and bastions, are constructed of other materials than of stubble and

straw; are built up with the strong and stable matter of the gospel of

liberty, and founded on a true, constitutional, legal establishment.

But, Sir, she has other securities; she has the security of her own

doctrines; she has the security of the piety, the sanctity of her own

professors; their learning is a bulwark to defend her; she has the

security of the two universities, not shook in any single battlement, in

any single pinnacle. ...

But if, after all, this danger is to be apprehended, if you are really

fearful that Christianity will indirectly suffer by this liberty, you

have my free consent; go directly, and by the straight way, and not by a

circuit, in which in your road you may destroy your friends, point your

arms against these men who do the mischief you fear promoting; point

your arms against men, who, not contented with endeavouring to turn

your eyes from the blaze and effulgence of light, by which life and

immortality is so gloriously demonstrated by the Gospel, would even

extinguish that faint glimmering of nature, that only comfort supplied

to ignorant man before this great illumination--them who, by attacking

even the possibility of all revelation, arraign all the dispensations

of Providence to man. These are the wicked dissenters you ought to fear;

these are the people against whom you ought to aim the shafts of law;

these are the men to whom, arrayed in all the terrors of government,

I would say, You shall not degrade us into brutes; these men, these

factious men, as the honourable gentleman properly called them, are the

just objects of vengeance, not the conscientious dissenter; these

men, who would take away whatever ennobles the rank or consoles

the misfortunes of human nature, by breaking off that connection of

observations, of affections, of hopes and fears, which bind us to the

Divinity, and constitute the glorious and distinguishing prerogative of

humanity, that of being a religious creature; against these I would have

the laws rise in all their majesty of terrors, to fulminate such vain

and impious wretches, and to awe them into impotence by the only

dread they can fear or believe, to learn that eternal lesson--Discite

justitiam moniti, et non temnere Divos.

At the same time that I would cut up the very root of atheism, I would

respect all conscience; all conscience, that is really such, and which

perhaps its very tenderness proves to be sincere. I wish to see the

established Church of England great and powerful; I wish to see her

foundations laid low and deep, that she may crush the giant powers of

rebellious darkness; I would have her head raised up to that heaven to

which she conducts us. I would have her open wide her hospitable gates

by a noble and liberal comprehension; but I would have no breaches in

her wall; I would have her cherish all those who are within, and pity

all those who are without; I would have her a common blessing to the

world, an example, if not an instructor, to those who have not the

happiness to belong to her; I would have her give a lesson of peace to

mankind, that a vexed and wandering generation might be taught to seek

for repose and toleration in the maternal bosom of Christian charity,

and not in the harlot lap of infidelity and indifference.

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