secution. They
talked of reform, but sowed the seeds of rebellion, anarchy, and
unbounded licentiousness.

The Christians had the advantage over their adversaries even in outward
appearance. They were cleaner and better clad, and were more orderly in
their deportment. There was quite a contrast between the crowds of
Christians that passed along the streets to their places of worship, and
the knots of Godless, Christless men who strolled along, or sat in their
doors, in their dirty clothes, with their unwashed faces, smoking their
pipes, or reading their filthy papers. There was a contrast between
Christian congregations and infidel meetings. One had the appearance of
purity and elevation; while the other had the stamp of pollution and
degradation. Irreligion seemed the nurse of coarseness and barbarism.
Some of the secularists actually argued against civilization, as
Rousseau had done before them. One of them reprinted Burke's ironical
work in favor of the savage state, and sent it to me for review, and was
greatly offended because I refused to recommend it as a sober, serious,
philosophical treatise to my readers.

It was plain that there was something wrong in infidelity; that its
tendency was to vice and depravity; while Christianity, whether it was
divine in its origin or not, was evidently the friend and benefactor of
our race.

In 1862, some friends of mine at Burnley, who had built a public hall
there, engaged me as their lecturer. The parties were unbelievers, but
they were opposed to the advocates of unbounded license. They were
favorable to morality, and wished to have an association that should
embody what they thought good in the Church, without being decidedly
religious. They wished to have music and singing at the Sunday meetings,
and to limit public discussion to the week-night meetings. They also
wished to have Sunday-schools, day-schools, reading-rooms, and
libraries. We had come to the conclusion that the Christians were right
on the whole in their way of conducting their public meetings, and we
were resolved to imitate them as far as we honestly could. And here I
lived and labored for more than a year. We did not succeed however so
well as we had expected. Our singers, and musicians, and Sunday-school
teachers had no high and powerful motive to keep them regularly at their
posts, so that whenever a strong temptation came to lure them away, they
ran from their tasks, and left me and another or two t