would not serve their turn though it were as broad as the house-floor."

Before they left Leyden, their pastor preached to them a farewell sermon,
which for loftiness of spirit and breadth of vision has hardly a parallel
in that age of intolerance. He laid down the principle that criticism of
the Scriptures had not been exhausted merely because it had been begun;
that the human conscience was of too subtle a nature to be imprisoned
for ever in formulas however ingeniously devised; that the religious
reformation begun a century ago was not completed; and that the Creator
had not necessarily concluded all His revelations to mankind.

The words have long been familiar to students of history, but they can
hardly be too often laid to heart.

Noble words, worthy to have been inscribed over the altar of the first
church to be erected by the departing brethren, words to bear fruit after
centuries should go by. Had not the deeply injured and misunderstood
Grotius already said, "If the trees we plant do not shade us, they will
yet serve for our descendants?"

Yet it is passing strange that the preacher of that sermon should be the
recent champion of the Contra-Remonstrants in the great controversy; the
man who had made himself so terrible to the pupils of the gentle and
tolerant Arminius.

And thus half of that English congregation went down to Delftshaven,
attended by the other half who were to follow at a later period with
their beloved pastor. There was a pathetic leave-taking. Even many of
the Hollanders, mere casual spectators, were in tears.