_temporal_ punishment; but the _moral obligation_ remains to give it
validity. That _eternal reward or punishment_ which the _Citizen_ has
taken so much pains to blot out from the mind of his readers, will
still continue the delight and terror of the Christian, the eternal
fountain of his hopes and fears;--with him a sufficient motive to
truth, without the artificial and imperfect aid of _national law_. The
affidavits of four or five _credible witnesses_ were already before the
public, that Mr. Young's Colleagues did make a charge against him; but
it seems that every moral sanction must be trampled upon or trifled
with by the _Citizen_, to secure a triumph for his false and infidel
principles. He skips, like a grasshopper, over facts and premises and
propositions, and perches upon his pitiful assertions, which he wishes
the public to pervert into conclusions. Why did he not give these
affidavits lo the public?--He cannot surely complain that he forgot
them, for they appear to haunt his guilty imagination through the whole
of his progress; nor can he complain of wanting room. But the answer is
easy. He knew it would make his bait so very bad that even his own
gulls would not nibble.--

He was afraid of injuring his credit as an author even among his _own
sort_--for these affidavits prove conclusively and indubitably, that
not one jot nor tittle more was uttered against Mr. Young, than what
emanated from his own colleagues, in the course of the winter of 1814
and 1815.

It is still more remarkable so far forth as the charge of fraud is
concerned, with what logical precision _the Citizen_ pursues his
inquiry.--One is naturally led to expect from his _positive rant_,
nothing short of _point blank demonstration_ at least, that the fraud,
(which if there was any originated with Mr. Young's colleagues) had