e heresy is the worse for being unpopular,
or that an opinion is false, and _must_ be demoralising in its
influence, because the majority of mankind declare it so.

I would not have it inferred from the foregoing remarks that horror of
Universalism, and detestation of its apostles, is _confined_ to the low,
the vulgar, the base, or the illiterate. Any such inference would be
wrong, for it is certainly true that learned, benevolent, and very able
Christian writers, have signalised themselves in the work of obstructing
the progress of Universalism by denouncing its principles, and imputing
all manner of wickedness to its defenders. It must, indeed, be admitted
that their conduct in this particular amply justifies pious Matthew
Henry's confession that 'of all the Christian graces, zeal is most apt
to turn sour.'

One John Ryland, A.M., of Northampton, published a 'Preceptor, or
General Repository of useful information, very necessary for the various
ages and departments of life,' in which 'pride and lust, a corrupt pride
of heart, and a furious filthy lust of body,' are announced as the
Atheist's 'springs of action,' 'desire to act the beast without control,
and live like a devil without a check of conscience,' his only 'reasons
for opposing the existence of God,' in which he is told 'a world of
creatures are up in arms against him to kill him as they would a
venomous mad dog,' in which, among other hard names, he is called
'absurd fool,' 'beast,' 'dirty monster,' 'brute,' 'gloomy dark animal,'
'enemy of mankind,' 'wolf to civil society,' 'butcher and murderer of
the human race,' in which, moreover, he is _cursed_ in the following
hearty terms;--'Let the glorious mass of fire burn him, let the moon
light him to the gallows, let the stars in their courses fight against
the Atheist, let the force of the comets dash him to pieces, let the
roar of thunders strike him deaf, let red lightnings blast his guilty
soul, let the sea lift up her mighty waves to bury him, let the lion
tear him to pieces, let dogs devour him, let the air poison him, let the
next crumb of bread choke him, nay, let the dull ass spurn him to
death.'

This is a notable specimen of zeal turned sour.

Bishop Hall was a Divine of solid learning and unquestionable piety,
whose memory is reverenced by a large and most respectable part of the
Christian world. He ranked amongst the best of his class, and, generally
speaking, was so little disposed to persecute