with their charms before.

"And so with regard to the Bible. I was born in a family in which the
Bible was read every day of the year. I heard its lessons from the lips
of a venerable father, and of a most affectionate mother. I read the
book myself. I studied it when I came of age, and treasured up many of
its teachings in my heart. I preached its truths to others. I defended
its teachings against infidel assailants, and was eloquent in its
praise.

"But a change took place; a strange, unlooked-for change. I was severed
from the Church. I became an unbeliever. I turned away my eyes from the
book, or looked chiefly on such portions of it as seemed to justify my
unbelief. I have been led of late to return to the book, and to study it
with a desire to do it justice; and the result is, I love it, I prize
it, as I never did in my life. I read it at times with unshakable
transports, and I am sorry I should ever have been so insensible to its
infinite excellences."

Such was my lecture. Those who had come to oppose, seemed puzzled what
to say. One man said I had been brought there to curse the Bible, and
lo! I had blessed it altogether. Another said that what I had uttered
could not be my real sentiments--that my praise of the Bible must be a
trap or a snare. My answer was, They are my real convictions, and the
sentiments that I publish in my weekly paper. Then how comes it that you
are brought here by the Secularists? I answered, My custom is to accept
invitations from any party, but to teach my own sentiments.

One young man came to me at Bristol, after hearing me deliver this
lecture, and said how glad he was at what I had said. "When my mother
was dying," said he, "she gave me a Bible, and pressed me to read it;
and I did so for a while. But when I became a skeptic, I lost my
interest in the book, and I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't
like to sell it, or destroy it, because it was the gift of my mother;
yet I seemed to have no use for it. I shall read it now with pleasure."

On the following evening I lectured on _True Religion_. The gentleman
who had come to oppose me said it was the best sermon, or about the
best, he had over heard. He seemed at a loss to know what right I had to
speak so earnestly in favor of all that was good, and appeared inclined
to abuse me for not saying something bad. I took all calmly, and the
meeting ended pleasantly.

9. And now, instead of trying to shake men's faith in religi