. It remains to be seen whether you
can prove yourselves as generous as you have been wise and patient. And
the position, as I say, is one of difficulty. Many, doubtless, left the
Church for a reason which is now removed; many have joined other sects
who would rather have joined themselves with you, had you been then as
you now are; and for these you are bound to render as easy as may be the
way of reconciliation, and show, by some notable action, the reality of
your own desire for Peace. But I am not unaware that there are others,
and those possibly a majority, who hold very different opinions--who
regard the old quarrel as still competent, or have found some new reason
for dissent; and from these the Church, if she makes such an advance as
she ought to make, in all loyalty and charity, may chance to meet that
most sensible of insults--ridicule, in return for an honest offer of
reconciliation. I am not unaware, also, that there is yet another ground
of difficulty; and that those even who would be most ready to hold the
cause of offence as now removed will find it hard to forget the
past--will continue to think themselves unjustly used--will not be
willing to come back, as though they were repentant offenders, among
those who delayed the reform and quietly enjoyed their benefices, while
they bore the heat and burthen of the day in a voluntary exile for the
Truth's sake.

In view of so many elements of difficulty, no intelligent person can be
free from apprehension for the result; and you, gentlemen, may be
perhaps more ready now to receive advice, to hear and weigh the opinion
of one who is free, because he writes without name, than you would be at
any juncture less critical. There is now a hope, at least, that some
term may be put to our more clamorous dissensions. Those who are at all
open to a feeling of national disgrace look eagerly forward to such a
possibility; they have been witnesses already too long to the strife
that has divided this small corner of Christendom; and they cannot
remember without shame that there has been as much noise, as much
recrimination, as much severance of friends, about mere logical
abstractions in our remote island, as would have sufficed for the great
dogmatic battles of the Continent. It would be difficult to exaggerate
the pity that fills the heart at such a reflection; at the thought of
how this neck of barren hills between two inclement seaways has echoed
for three centuries with