hat you are "The
son of a now sainted father, who for forty years ministered at your
altars, the co-laborer of that noble band of Christian ministers, who,
under Asbury and Coke, founded your Church in America!"

Alas, that any "sainted Father" should be represented by so degenerate a
son--an irreligious son--not a member of any Church--but having the
hardihood, in the face of those who know the facts, to disguise himself
in the priestly robes of a "sainted Father"--like an ass in a lion's
skin, to _bray out_ against better men than himself, or, like a wolf in
sheep's clothing, to _steal into the fold_, where that Father was
accustomed to minister in holy things, and with soft and honeyed words,
and hypocritical teachings, and Satan-like misrepresentations, seek whom
he may devour! You tell the "Bishops, Elders, and other Ministers," that
you really "approve" their "creed," and, what is still more
soul-cheering, you have "witnessed their growth and progress for years,
with the highest satisfaction." This is very _condescending_ in the "son
of a now sainted father!" It is quite flattering! But these "Bishops,
Elders, and other Ministers," would receive all this with a greater
degree of allowance, if they did not believe that your generous
patronage, so lavishly bestowed upon them and their "creed," was
prompted by a principle of which _selfishness_ is the soul! They
believe, and so express themselves in conversation, that your forced
smile of approbation, your reluctant eulogy, have both been wrung from
you, because you are a sycophantic partisan suitor for patronage, in the
way of votes for your party. These Clergymen whom you address, think it
a great pity that the "son of a now sainted father" should exhibit so
much "satisfaction" at witnessing their prosperity, in _theory_, and
manifest not one particle in _practice_. They think that you would be in
your proper place, to be found among the _mourners_, instead of the
_teachers_ in their Church; and that it is high time, considering your
age in life, and the extent of your iniquities, that you should be found
upon your knees, in an altar full of fresh straw, at an old-fashioned
Camp-Meeting, asking the pious to pray for you, and God, for the sake of
the forty years labors of "a now sainted father," to have mercy upon
you, and save your sinful old soul from that death that never dies.

Why, Sir, the Devil himself would blush to perpetrate such an act of
arrogance as yo