There was a period of time which does not require much aid from memory to bring to your recollection, when political turmoil had diffused itself over the face of this country—when the feelings of charity seemed more or less suspended, and violence of language was frequently resorted to as the surest mode of pleasing—a time when a state of indifference was looked on as highly criminal, and when, even persons in the sacerdotal character, had sometimes recourse to political harangues, as a digest for religious instruction from the altar. At that time many through motives, perhaps, of ambition—others through a desire of vain glory—while some through a conviction of its utility, engaged in the political struggles of the day; and though it may be painful to my feelings to advert to such a period, still I feel bound to acknowledge, that a mistaken zeal for religion, unaccompanied with the experience of wiser days, urged me on as no idle spectator of the scene. But, blessed be God for all things—when my mind turned upon the serious question of religion—when I looked upon the book of God as the sole standard of my faith—when I began to view, through the medium of impartiality, the important subject of my eternal salvation, my mind became the more enlarged, and my thoughts the more expanded by the occurrence. Doubt followed doubt—my prejudices began to vanish beneath the sunshine of a more liberal knowledge—the elements of darkness became at length superseded by the glorious principles of unerring light—while the effulgence of that religion, which I had so often misrepresented through life, pierced through the mystic veil, in which my mind was enveloped, leaving me the consolation upon this day of being addressed by my Protestant brethren in the language of the Apostle—“That he which persecuted us in times past, now preacheth the faith which once he destroyed.” Gal. i. 23. There are some, perhaps, who, if similarly situated as I am, would prefer the private moment to the public hour for making an open avowal of their sentiments; but I have considered it to be the imperative, the indispensable duty of a true convert in Jesus, to act in conformity with the advice of the Scriptures, “by raising his voice like a trumpet to strengthen his brethren, and to shew the people their errors.” Yes; and though the opprobrious epithets of “renegade to the religion of my youth, and apostate from the faith of my fathers,” may be annexed to my present conviction of soul, still, as St. Paul gloried in the titles of fool, madman, and apostate, with which disbelief upbraided him on his conversion to Christianity, so shall I glory in similar appellations, “for I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.”