nisters had gone to their aid, it would have caused a rupture and
division in the church.

My labors therefore could do little more than rouse the better portion
of the Body to a temporary zeal and activity, and transfer a number of
my friends to their communion.

And I and my friends were out of our place, and out of our element, in
their society. The earnest words we spoke were not 'like fire among dry
stubble;' but like sparks falling into the water. Instead of us kindling
them, they extinguished us. The 'strong man armed' who had got
possession of the Unitarian House, was _too_ strong to be overpowered
and cast out by anything short of a miracle of Omnipotence. And that was
out of the question. Christ can save individuals, but not churches. To
members of a dead or depraved church his words are, 'Come out of her, my
people.' And there was, and there is, no revival, no salvation, for
Unitarians, but by their abandonment of the Unitarian fellowship, and
their return to Christ as individuals. So you may guess what followed. I
had got where it was impossible for me to do others much good, even if I
had been better myself, and where it was impossible for me to prevent
others from doing me most serious harm. I was on an inclined plane,
tending ever downward, with all surrounding influences calculated to
render my descent every day more rapid.

Down this inclined plane I gradually slid, till I reached at length the
land of doubt and unbelief. My descent was very slow. It took me several
years to pass from the more moderate to the more extravagant forms of
Unitarianism.

When I first read the works of Dr. Channing, though I was delighted
beyond measure with many portions of his writings, I had a great dislike
for some of his remarks about Christ and the Atonement. And when I first
resolved to publish an edition of his works, I intended to add notes,
with a view to neutralize the tendency of his objectionable views; but
by the time I got his works into the press, those views appeared
objectionable no longer.

I still however regarded portions of Theodore Parker's works with
horror. His rejection of miracles, and of the supernatural origin of
Christianity, seemed inexcusable. And many a time was I shocked while
reading his "_Discourse on Matters pertaining to Religion_," by the
contemptuous manner in which he spoke of portions of the sacred
Scriptures. I was enchanted with many parts of the book; but how a man
of so much