That is the right baptism, sir! I thought I should bring
you to it at last!" at which words Mr P. laughed heartily, but made
no particular reply.
After a little time he began to talk about the great men who had
risen up amongst the Baptists, and mentioned two or three
distinguished individuals.
I said that he had not mentioned the greatest man who had been born
amongst the Baptists.
"What was his name?" said he.
"His name was Joost Van Vondel," I replied.
"I never heard of him before," said Morgan.
"Very probably," said I: "he was born, bred, and died in Holland."
"Has he been dead long?" said Morgan.
"About two hundred years," said I.
"That's a long time," said Morgan, "and maybe is the reason that I
never heard of him. So he was a great man?"
"He was indeed," said I. "He was not only the greatest man that
ever sprang up amongst the Baptists, but the greatest, and by far
the greatest, that Holland ever produced, though Holland has
produced a great many illustrious men."
"Oh I daresay he was a great man if he was a Baptist," said Morgan.
"Well, it's strange I never read of him. I thought I had read the
lives of all the eminent people who lived and died in our
communion."
"He did not die in the Baptist communion," said I.
"Oh, he didn't die in it," said Morgan; "What, did he go over to
the Church of England? a pretty fellow!"
"He did not go over to the Church of England," said I, "for the
Church of England does not exist in Holland; he went over to the
Church of Rome."
"Well, that's not quite so bad," said Morgan; "however, it's bad
enough. I daresay he was a pretty blackguard."
"No," said I: "he was a pure virtuous character, and perhaps the
only pure and virtuous character that ever went over to Rome. The
only wonder is that so good a man could ever have gone over to so
detestable a church; but he appears to have been deluded."
"Deluded indeed!" said Morgan. "However, I suppose he went over
for advancement's sake."
"No," said I; "he lost every prospect of advancement by going over
to Rome: nine-tenths of his countrymen were of the reformed
religion, and he endured much poverty and contempt by the step he
took."
"How did he support himself?" said Morgan.
"He obtained a livelihood," said I, "by writing poems and plays,
some of which are wonderfully fine."
"What," said Morgan, "a writer of Interludes? One of Twm o'r
Nant's gang! I thought he would turn out a pretty fellow." I told
him that the person in question certainly did write Interludes, for
example Noah, and Joseph at Goshen, but that he was a highly
respectable, nay venerable character.
