oman many years before
the new philosophy had discovered that marriage was a shameful
infringement on human liberty, and an abridgement of the rights of
man. To this family was now added his new footman, William Wilson,
whom he had taken with a good character out of a sober family. Mr.
Fantom was no sooner settled than he wrote to invite Mr. Trueman to
come and pay him a visit, for he would have burst if he could not
have got some one to whom he might display his new knowledge; he
knew that if on the one hand Trueman was no scholar, yet on the
other he was no fool; and though he despised his _prejudices_, yet
he thought he might be made a good decoy duck; for if he could once
bring Trueman over, the whole club at the Cat and Bagpipes might be
brought to follow his example; and thus he might see himself at the
head of a society of his own proselytes; the supreme object of a
philosopher's ambition. Trueman came accordingly. He soon found that
however he might be shocked at the impious doctrines his friend
maintained, yet that an important lesson might be learned even from
the worst enemies of truth; namely, an ever wakeful attention to
their grand object. If they set out with talking of trade or
politics, of private news or public affairs, still Mr. Fantom was
ever on the watch to hitch in his darling doctrines; whatever he
began with, he was sure to end with a pert squib at the Bible, a
vapid jest on the clergy, the miseries of superstition, and the
blessings of philosophy. "Oh!" said Trueman to himself, "when shall
I see Christians half so much in earnest? Why is it that almost all
zeal is on the wrong side?"

"Well, Mr. Fantom," said Trueman one day at breakfast, "I am afraid
you are leading but an idle sort of life here." "Idle, sir!" said
Fantom, "I now first begin to live to some purpose; I have indeed
lost too much time, and wasted my talents on a little retail trade,
in which one is of no note; one can't distinguish one's self." "So
much the better," said Trueman; "I had rather not distinguish
myself, unless it was by leading a better life than my neighbors.
There is nothing I should dread more than being talked about. I dare
say now heaven is in a good measure filled with people whose names
were never heard out of their own street and village. So I beg leave
not to distinguish myself!" "Yes, but one may, if it is only by
signing one's name to an essay or paragraph in a newspaper," said
Fantom. "Heaven keep John