So few appear'd to be the fame,
Age would have sent them whence they came:
But ah, Young Difputator hears
The broken sentences, and fears
More of his flock would go aftray,
In the chief shepherd's watery way!
The good man's breast begins to rage,
Nor can his friends his flame affwage.
The facred vestments were too thin,
To hide the spleen that work'd within.
How prone the best of men, when try'd,
To envy, bigotry and pride!
Young Difputator takes his pen,
And writes! and writes! and writes agen!
What folemn truths his zeal excite ?-
A bare external human rite.
Who his opponents ?-the licentious?-
No; the fincere and confcientious,
Whose only guide is revelation,
In all the matters of falvation.
What is his great and noble end?—
An old tradition to defend,
Or rather all his flock to keep,
(For he himself can wash his sheep.)
What are the arms with which he wounds?
Sophiftic wrangling,-pompous founds,-
The mouldering bones of German ranters,
Unkind invectives, idle banters,
Distorted texts,-no proofs at all,
A loud report without a ball.
Goliath-like he braves a host,
And seems a victory to boast;
A hoft that fhew, devoid of dread,
The Son of David at their head:
His bright example and command,
Their bulwark and their glory stand.
His fuperficial page abounds
With fatire, fimiles and founds,-
Meer declamation,-ftrain'd allufions,
False premises and false conclusions||;
And forms, of colors gay and proud,
A mimic rainbow in the cloud
Of dark miftake and superstition,
Exhal'd from ancient circumcifion;
The radiant bow ftraight difappears,
As truth our mental region clears.
What wholesome and delicious fruit
Can grow on fuch a barren root ?---
Morofe contention, fwelling pride,
And four difguft on every fide.
Enthusiasts who rose in Germany about the year 15175
fome of whom were oppofers of Infant Baptifm.
§ Letter to the Baptift Minifter, page 16, and various others.
But whyfo churlifh, my good brother?
The men of God fhould love each other.
Why greedy of monopolizing
The gainful trade of scandalizing,
Of raving, bantering, and fupporting
Your "tottering idol*," by diftorting.
Th' opponents words and sacred scriptures,
Through your verbofe fophiftic ftrictures?
Why use unkind insinuations?
And why call namest in difputations?
Judge, ye difcrect impartial men,
What fpirit influenc'd his pen,
His meek Redeemer's, or his own?
'Tis by its fruit the tree is known.
Were there no subjects more fublime,
T'employ his talents and his time?
Was a lean, mouldy, fiale tradition,
Of all his fores, the best provifion?
Will this although three fhilling price,
Afford one finner found advice,
Or any cheering confolation
To one believer in temptation?
A fecond part is coming forth;
That may be still of greater worth.
Should Difputator persevere,
And publish volumes every year,
*So Mr. De Courcy terms Believers Baptifm.-But whe ther this defcription does not better fuit Infant fprinkling,
And, with like zeal, as largely write
On each external form and rite,
"Till he has finally explain'd
All fubjects in his creed contain'd;
How can the universe produce
Pens, ink, and paper for his use?
Is the baptizing of believers
In a baptistery, ponds, or rivers,
The greateft error of the age ?.
To be oppos'd with fierceft rage?
And Infant fprinkling the main truth,
To be enforc'd on age and youth?
Had the good Prieft difplay'd his parts
On fubjects fit to mend our hearts,
And make our conversation fhine,
We should have blefs'd his kind design:
But while he writes, with all his might,
To canonize the human rite
Of sprinkling infants on the face,
And through dark paths the custom trace,
In a fublime dogmatic style,
His pompous page but makes us fmile
Its fpirit, fophiftry and fize,
Excite our pity and surprize!
But the good man is in a fever,
And truly needs a kind reliever.
How vaft his wifdom and his meeknefs,
(Don't fay his folly and his weakness,)
To vindicate, with fo much fury,
An outward rite, that, I affure ye,
The zealous Vicar hath avow'd,
And by all found divines allow'd,
Is not effential to falvation,-
Nor mention'd once in revelation!
We love the Chriftian, as fincere;
The zealous Preacher, we revere ;
But think the Writer and Logician,
Stands much in need of a physician.
His optic nerve seems much affec&ed,
And every part therewith connected,.
To him a river seems no larger
That what would barely fill a charger;
And fage adults, of manly fize,
Shrink into infants in his eyes.
Hence, he amazingly confounds
Both different things and different founds,--
The law and gofpel,-works and grace,-
The Jews and Gentiles and their race,
Two different parts of covenant deeds,—
Two different rites,-two different feeds,-
Sprinkling and dipping, font and flood,
Parents and babes,-the bad and good.
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