nguishing himself from the
rest of mankind, is rather to be regarded as a mischievous lunatic,
than a mistaken philosopher. A chaste infidel, a speculative libertine,
is an animal that I should not believe to be in Nature, did I not
sometimes meet with this species of men, that plead for the indulgence
of their passions in the midst of a severe studious life, and talk
against the immortality of the soul over a dish of coffee.

I would fain ask a minute philosopher, what good he proposes to mankind
by the publishing of his doctrines? Will they make a man a better
citizen, or father of a family; a more endearing husband, friend, or
son? Will they enlarge his public or private virtues, or correct any of
his frailties or vices? What is there either joyful or glorious in such
opinions? Do they either refresh or enlarge our thoughts? Do they
contribute to the happiness, or raise the dignity of human nature? The
only good that I have ever heard pretended to, is, that they banish
terrors, and set the mind at ease. But whose terrors do they banish? It
is certain, if there were any strength in their arguments, they would
give great disturbance to minds that are influenced by virtue, honour,
and morality, and take from us the only comforts and supports of
affliction, sickness, and old age. The minds therefore which they set at
ease, are only those of impenitent criminals and malefactors, and which,
to the good of mankind, should be in perpetual terror and alarm.

I must confess, nothing is more usual than for a freethinker, in
proportion as the insolence of scepticism is abated in him by years and
knowledge, or humbled and beaten down by sorrow or sickness, to
reconcile himself to the general conceptions of reasonable creatures; so
that we frequently see the apostates turning from their revolt toward
the end of their lives, and employing the refuse of their parts in
promoting those truths which they had before endeavoured to invalidate.

The history of a gentleman in France is very well known, who was so
zealous a promoter of infidelity, that he had got together a select
company of disciples, and travelled into all parts of the kingdom to
make converts. In the midst of his fantastical success he fell sick, and
was reclaimed to such a sense of his condition, that after he had passed
some time in great agonies and horrors of mind, he begged those who had
the care of burying him, to dress his body in the habit of a Capuchin,
that t