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THE 
 
 CONFESSIONS 
 
 ■or 
 
 J. v LACKINGTON, 
 
 LATE BOOKSELLER, 
 
 AT THE TEMPLE OF THE MUSES, 
 
 in 4 
 
 Series of Letters to a Friend, 
 
 But then grew Reason dark, that she no more 
 Could the fair forms of Good and Truth discern ; 
 
 Bats they became, who Eagles were before, 
 And this they got by their desire to learn. 
 
 SIR J. DAVIS. 
 
 fi The soul's dark cottage batter'dand decay'd 
 
 Lets in new light through chinks which time has made. 8 * 
 
 jYEW-YORK: 
 
 ITBLJSHED BY JOHN WILSON AND DANIEL HITT 
 FOR THE METHODIST CONNECTION. 
 
 J, C, TOTTEN, PRINT. 
 
 1808. i 
 

ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE Author of this Confession is a man 
 of a very prominent character. Having at- 
 tained considerable celebrity, as well by his 
 strange rise from one of the lowest stations in 
 life, to the possession of probably the greatest 
 book-store in the known world ; as by the ma- 
 ny editions of his life, written principally to 
 throw a general obloquy on Christianity, and 
 to shew his particular aversion from the Meth- 
 odists, 
 
 He followed the occupation of a shoemaker, 
 according to his confession; and by hearing the 
 Methodist preachers, was convinced of his sin- 
 fulness, and made a good progress in experi- 
 mental and practical piety. In consequence of 
 his sobriety and diligence, accompanied with 
 the generous assistance of his Methodist breth- 
 ren, it appears he emerged from his debased 
 situation, and by a swift gradation, rose to op- 
 ulence. He now fell from his steadfastness in 
 religion, and became, by degrees, an open deist 
 and a vehement opposer of his former associ- 
 ates and patrons. How he was again gracious- 
 ly visited and reclaimed, these letters will shew ; 
 however, we cannot forbear remarking the pro- 
 vidence that should make Jvlr. Wesley, when 
 dead, the instrument of his re-convefsion. He 
 
IV. 
 
 has now resigned his business, and lives in eie 
 gant and useful retirement, enjoying once more 
 the privileges of that church from which he fell, 
 and has lately (in 1804) published the letters 
 from which these are taken, desirous thereby 
 to efface the effects of his former erroneous pub- 
 lications. It has, for the same purpose, been 
 thought expedient to re-publish them here in 
 the present form, altering nothing in what is. 
 retained, but omitting what was deemed not 
 closely connected with the subject, and chiefly 
 his large quotations from the poets. The Lord 
 himself give it his blessing, and to him be all 
 the glory. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 SEVERAL of my friends have thought that, 
 if the following letters were made public, they 
 might prove useful as a warning to others not 
 to fall into those errors which had nearly prov- 
 ed fatal to me ; and also, as an alarm to some 
 of those who are already fallen into that dread- 
 ful state of infidelity; from which, by the great 
 mercy of God, 1 am happily escaped. 
 
 They were also of opinion, that as I had pub- 
 licly ridiculed a very large and respectable body 
 of Christians, and thus, in fact, made a thrust 
 at the very vitals of Christianity itself, by 
 this means giving occasion to speculative infi- 
 dels and practical unbelievers to triumph and 
 blaspheme ; diat, therefore, my recantation 
 ought to be made as public as possible, and that 
 by so doing I should give great pleasure to 
 many real Christians, who, with the angels in 
 heaven, will rejoice over a repenting sinner. 
 
 To the preceding reasons, the Author is 
 obliged to add, that without publishing some 
 thing of the kind, he thinks he should not have 
 performed his duty to God or man r nor have 
 had any .just ground to expect pardon from 
 either— such is his sense and aohorrence of the 
 pernicious and infidel tendency of those parts 
 A3 
 
of his memoirs, in which, through the side oi 
 Methodism, he attacks the whole of evangeli- 
 cal piety. 
 
 In order that my readers might be able to 
 form clear ideas of the state of my mind thro 7 
 the whole progress of my present happy change, 
 I thought it best to insert two letters which I 
 wrote while I w r as an infidel ; and others writ- 
 ten during my gradual discovery of the truths 
 which are revealed in the scriptures. And I 
 request my readers to take notice, that the -first 
 22 letters were all written before I was convin- 
 ced of the truth of those doctrines which are 
 taught by the Methodists, and also by our Re- 
 formers, as appears by the Liturgy, Articles v 
 and Homilies of the Church of England. 
 
 I have called my old acquaintances by ficti- 
 tious names, because I would not publicly ex- 
 pose either those that are dead, or such as are 
 still living ; and I presume no one has any rea- 
 son to complain ; for should wy of them be 
 known by my sketches, it Gan only be by such 
 as w r ere acquainted with the originals. 
 
 In one or two instances I have, for panic - 
 ular reasons, made use of a fictitious vehicle to 
 introduce real facts, reasonings, reflections, &c- 
 
 It may be necessary to inform my reader^ 
 *hg|I aiu qot (as some suppose) again become 
 
xn 
 
 ft partner in the bookselling trade. It is now 
 five years since I made over the whole of th/ 
 business to Messrs* George Lackington, Al^ 
 and Co. since which time I have had no sh ^ 
 or interest in it ; and I am very sorry that u.^f 
 last summer published a new edition of the 
 Memoirs of my Life ; but I believe they had 
 no intention to disoblige the Methodists, but 
 merely published it as a matter of course, to 
 promote their trade. And although I at that 
 time was not pleased with its being republish- 
 ed, yet I did not see the evil tendency which 
 that work certainly has, in so strong a Irght as I 
 have since. 
 
 I am, Readers, 
 Your very sincere well-wisher, 
 
 J. LACKINGTON. 
 Ake'ston, Dec. 10///, 1803. 
 
£ 
 
CONFESSIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 J. LACKINGTON. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 > ■■ ■■ " Trembling I retreat : 
 
 My prostrate soul again adores her God ? ' 
 
 SIR, 
 
 IN my Memoirs t told you that I married 
 Miss Dorcas Turton. This girl had for some 
 years divided her spare hours between devotion 
 and novel reading; on Sundays she would attend 
 the sermons of two or three of those who are call- 
 ed Calvinist-Methodist preachers, the intervals 
 were often filled up by reading of novels: and 
 after her return from the Tabernacle in the even- 
 ing the novel was resumed, and perhaps not quit- 
 ted until she had seen the hero and heroine hap- 
 pily married, which often kept her out of bed un- 
 til morning. On other evenings also she would 
 often hear a sermon at the Tabernacle, and de- 
 vote the remainder of the night to reading 
 " Tale's of Love arid Maids forstken." 
 
10 
 
 I ha/1 no sooner married this young woman than 
 Mr. Wesley's people began to prophesy that I 
 should soon lose all my religion. This prophecy, 
 I must confess, was too soon fulfilled. And al- 
 though she was not the sole cause of it, yet as I 
 often was prevailed upon to hear her read those 
 gay, frothy narratives, I, by degrees, began to 
 lose my relish for more important subjects ; and 
 it was not long before novels, romances, and po- 
 ets occupied a considerable part of our time, so 
 that I even neglected my shop ; for being so 
 much delighted with those fairy regions, I could 
 scarce bear the idea of business : I also sometimes 
 neglected the preaching at the Foundery, at other 
 times hurried home, impatient until I had again 
 got into the realms of fiction. Some months pas- 
 sed away in this manner. At last I was roused 
 from those dreams, and again I paid attention to 
 my trade. 
 
 I observed- in my Memoirs, that Mr. Denis visit- 
 ed me during my long illness. When I was again 
 constantly to be found in my shop, he often 
 called, and having little to do, and being fond of 
 disputation, he would seat himself on the coun- 
 ter, and, as occasion offered, attack me, or any 
 of my customers, on our religious opinions. ' He 
 was acquainted with the various controversies 
 which have divided the christian world , and ap- 
 peared to take delight in pulling systems to pie- 
 ces, without establishing any thing. He owned 
 that he was greatly attached to alchymical and 
 mystical authors ; but he would confess that, al- 
 though he believed some of their writings were 
 dictated by the Spirit of God, yet that he did rto: 
 
II 
 
 pretend to understand them. He allowed that the 
 authors of the Old and New Testaments, some- 
 times wrote as the spirit dictated, but contended 
 that they had written many things, without any 
 such assistance ; that, like other pious authors, 
 they at times only wrote their own opinions ; so 
 that Mr. Denis only believed so much of the Bi- 
 ble as he approved of. The divinity of Christ, the 
 doctrine of the atonement, &c. he did not believe. 
 From Jane Leed, Madam Bourignon, Madam 
 Guion, he had filled his head with associating and 
 concentering with the divinity, which was the way to 
 be all light, all eye, all spirit, all joy, all rest, all 
 glad?iess, all love ; pure love, rest in quietness, ab- 
 sorbed in s?lent %^\x\\\x2\ pleasure, and inexpressible 
 sweetness, &c. Mr. D did not attend any place 
 of worship, except the Horse and Groom public 
 house near Moorfields could be called such. In 
 Moornelds he sometimes would hear part of a 
 sermon or two, and for an hour or two after the 
 orations were ended, he was to be seen disputing* 
 among the mechanics, who very often came there 
 for that purpose. In the afternoon on Sunday, he 
 would go to the above public-house, where a room 
 full of persons of this description usually met, and 
 one or other of them would first read a chapter in 
 the Bible, and afterwards animadvert on what he 
 had read, and as many as were disposed to it, add- 
 ed their curious remarks. To this odd groupe of 
 expositors, I was orxe introduced, but I did not 
 repeat my visit. 
 
 From the disputes in my shop, example, &c. I 
 soon came to think that the Sabbath-day was no 
 more sacred than any other day j so that ijastead 
 
1.2 
 
 of attending at places of worship, I sometimes 
 read the whole of the day ; at other times I walk- 
 ed in the fields with Mr. D. his son, and other 
 disputants, where we debated various subjects. 
 
 I believe when any one willingly neglects public 
 worship, he will not long be attentive to private 
 devotion ; it was at least the case with me. I also 
 soon began to entertain doubts concerning the 
 doctrines of the Trinity, Atonement, &c. And in 
 proportion as I relaxed in Christian duties, I grew 
 more fond of such disputes as had a tendency to 
 make my mind easy on that score. 
 
 About this time Mr. R. T — nl — y advised me 
 to read the memoirs of John Buncle, which I 
 soon procured and read through. This oernicious 
 work, (for such I now think it to be) at once, not * 
 only eradicated the remains of Methodism, but 
 also nearly the whole of Christianity, 
 
 Faults in the life, breed errors in the brain, 
 And these, reciprocally, those again ; 
 The mind and conduct, mutually imprint, 
 And stamp their image on each other's mint. 
 
 Co-svper. 
 
 After the heterogeneous example of John Bun- 
 cle, I indulged myseif in the practice of many 
 things which were inconsistent with the character 
 of a Christian, and yet, like him, I was not wil- 
 ling to suppose those practices were at variance 
 with the most exalted notions of rational Christi- 
 anity. 
 
 Having, like John Buncle, given up the doc- 
 trines of the Trinity, Original Sin, Atonement 
 made by Christ, the Obligation of.the Sabbath, fcc> 
 
and having become negligent of Christian duties, 
 and a little relaxed in morals, it was not likely 
 that I should stop here. 
 
 I think it was in this year ( 1 7T6) that I became 
 acquainted with one whom I shall call Jack Jolly, 
 and some of his acquaintance, all downright infi- 
 dels ; but otherwise shrewd, sensible men. Of 
 these 1 learned the names of such others as had 
 wrote on the side of infidelity ; and also the titles 
 of their pernicious productions. 
 
 I think it was the witty sarcasms and vile mis- 
 representations of Voltaire that first made me en- 
 tirely give up my Bible, from which I had in-past 
 years derived so much real comfort in the most 
 distressing circumstances of great poverty, and 
 very great affliction. That precious book enabled 
 me to breakfast, dine and sup on water gruel only, 
 not barely with a contented mind, but also with a 
 cheerful countenance and a merry heart. It was 
 the Bible which supported me under the several 
 years affliction of a beloved wife, in which I truly 
 suffered with her ; it was that book which enabled 
 her, although young, to die with joy, and in full 
 and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. 
 When this charming young woman died, I also 
 was given over, my soul was, as it were, hover- 
 ing on my lips, just ready to depart. In this aw- 
 ful crisis, my amiable wife gone ! All around me 
 expecting the moment when time to me should 
 be no longer ! 
 
 In this awful situation I remained a long time, 
 
 how long I know not, perhaps a week or weeks ; 
 
 yet even in this state, although more dead than 
 
 alive, did the divine promises contained in the sa- 
 
 B 
 
14 
 
 . 
 
 cred pages support and comfort me, so that 
 times I was filled with inexpressible pleasure^ 
 In these moments I could believe that I was 
 
 ff A glorious partner with the Deity, 
 
 " In that higii attribute, Eternal Life — 
 
 <f I gaz'd, and as I gaz'd, my mounting" soul 
 
 ** Caught fire, Eternity, at thee ; 
 
 u And dropp'd tlie world." 
 
 Say, ye infidels ! in your thoughtful moments, 
 why would you deprive your poor fellow-mortals 
 of that which alone can support them amidst the 
 complicated miseries to which we are exposed ? 
 
 Notwithstanding I had, as I have observed be- 
 fore, been some time relaxing in religious princi- 
 ples and duties, yet no tongue or pen can describe 
 what I felt at times, on relinquishing the volume 
 which contained the words of eternal life ; but it 
 was wrenched from me. For I was so destitute 
 of knowledge and abilities, as not to be able 10 an- 
 swer the witty and artful objections of that arch 
 infidel Voltaire, and others whose works soon af- 
 ter I read. I must confess that I felt it very hard 
 fc> part from this old constant companion of mine ; 
 and should have been glad to have retained its 
 divine consolations, without being bound to obey- 
 all its precepts. But as that could not be, after 
 many struggles, I took my leave of that inesti- 
 mable treasure of wisdom and knowledge. 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Yours. 
 
LETTER II. 
 
 -Proud rationals, 
 
 (That deep in speculation's wandering maze, 
 Bemuse themselves with error, and confound 
 The laws of men, of nature, and of heav'n,) 
 
 Presumptuous in their wisdom 
 
 Dr. D odd's T noughts in Prison 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 HAVING quite done with the word of 
 God, I soon entirely neglected the public wor- 
 ship of God. Before this, I went at times to one 
 or other of Mr. Wesley's chapels, or to some 
 parish church. But now I was taught to believe, 
 that as the whole world was God's Temple, I could 
 pay my devotions to him at any time and in any 
 place ; the consequence you may easily imagine ; 
 the divine Being was soon too much out of my 
 thoughts ; the Sabbath-day was spent in reading 
 pernicious books, or in writing my catalogues, ar- 
 ranging my books, casting up my profits, visiting, 
 Sec. And it was not long before I could make a 
 hand at cards on that day. 
 
 As soon as I had gone through Voltaire's 
 pieces, I procured other works of the same ten- 
 dency, and in reading them I employed most of 
 my spare hours for several years. And although 
 I did not devote so much time to them after this, 
 but read also history, voyages, travels, poetry, 
 novels, &c. yet I often had recourse to them, and 
 took every opportunity of purchasing new publi- 
 cations which had the same pernicious tendency ; 
 
and also every old one that 1 was not before po.s ? 
 sessed of; so that at last I had got nearly the 
 whole of this species of writing which had been 
 published in the English language. I not only 
 procured them, but read them, and some of them, 
 several times over, with a pencil in my hand ta 
 put marks to the most particular passages. 
 
 I also procured a Bible interleaved with blank 
 paper, and transcribed many of the remarks and 
 objections of infidel writers to various texts ; and 
 opposite to some texts I even wrote my own ob- 
 jections. Having had such a long acquaintance 
 with the authors in favour of freethinking, I am 
 able to remark that Thomas Paine, and other mo- 
 dern infidels, instead of consulting the Bible, have 
 copied the objections to it, from those authors 
 that preceded them, which objections have been 
 sibly answered, over and over again, by men of 
 deep learning and great ability ; those answers I, 
 like other freethinkers, neglected to read, until a 
 few years since. Now I have read them, I am 
 ashamed of having been so easily duped and cheat- 
 ed out of my Christianity. 
 
 I will now relate the progress of one of my ac- 
 quaintance from serious godliness to infidelity. I 
 will call him Dick Thrifty ; and I assure you, it is 
 nearly the case with marry in the infidel corps. I 
 must first inform you, that most of the freethink- 
 ers that I have known in the lower and middle 
 ranks of society) were once influenced by religion, 
 at least in appearance. 
 
 Dick Thrifty was near thirty years since, like 
 your old friend, a truly pious man ; at least, I am. 
 fully persuaded he was perfectly sincere iri his re- 
 
ligious profession : he being of an open, honest- 
 hearted disposition, incapable of practising any 
 deceit; About the years 1774 and 1775, he read 
 a good deal of polemical divinity, and by this 
 means lost that simplicity and gentleness of dis- 
 position so essential to the Christian character- 
 He then got acquainted with some, who having 
 given up one point of Christian doctrine after an- 
 other, had, in the end, become downright infidels. 
 These acquaintance advised him to read the works 
 of Chubb, Tyndal, Morgan, Collins, Shaftesbury* 
 Voltaire, Bolingbroke, Hume, Sec. Before Dick 
 had read a quarter part of those books, he, like 
 me and others, quitted his religious connexions. 
 For a short time Dick boasted of being a rational 
 Christian, and talked much of Chubb as being a 
 very sensible, clear writer. After Dick had read 
 Tyndal, Collins, Morgan, and Shaftesbury, he 
 "was then a Christian deist. Before Dick had gone 
 through Voltaire's dcistica! pieces, he gave up 
 Christ entirely, and was a philosophical deist ; and 
 pitied the poor ignorant Christians for suffering 
 themselves to be kept in the dark. But Dick had 
 not quite finished Bolingbroke's philosophical 
 works before he was, from a dignified philosopher, 
 sunk down to a reasoning brute. He had lost his 
 immortal, immaterial part in the labyrinths of 
 metaphysicks. Voltaire's Ignorant Philosopher 
 made Dick a Sceptic ; Heivetius and Hume gave 
 the finishing stroke to the picture ; poor Dick 
 was then an atheist I 
 
 B2 
 
Duped by iancy, erring 1 reason stray'd 
 
 Thro' night's black gloom ; and with uncertain stxp, 
 
 Stumbled from rock to rock 
 
 Ooii.vie's providence. 
 
 Although Dick did not long remain a down- 
 right atheist, yet he long continued in a state of 
 distracting doubt and uncertainty ; at one time a 
 deist, then doubting of every thing, even of his 
 own existence. Now, there must be two eternal 
 substances, matter and spirit, and then there can 
 be but one, which must be matter. Sometimes 
 he is quite sure that there is one self-existent be- 
 ing, and that he has an immaterial soul to adore 
 him ; then again he is perplexed and distracted 
 with doubts. 
 
 Whenever I read the following lines, they afc 
 feet me much, being applicable to myself, and 
 many others, as well as to Dick. 
 
 Poor wretcli ! he read,- and read, and read, 
 
 Till his brain turned 
 
 He had unlawful thoughts of many things ; 
 He never lov'd to pray 
 With holy men, nor in a holy place— 
 — ^— It is a perilous tale ! 
 
 WORDSWORTh 
 
 I am, 
 D£ar friend', Yours 
 
!9 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 But when no female arts his mind could move* 
 She turn'd to furious hate her impious love. 
 
 DRYDEN'S VIRGIL. 
 
 -Hallow'd is the nuptial bed, 
 
 ©f deeper sanctity than oathy, and guarded 
 
 By justice. potter's a es chyles, 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 HAVING informed you in the last of the 
 extraordinary revolution that took placs in Dick's 
 sentiments, you will not be much surprised when 
 I inform you that a great alteration also took place 
 in his life and conduct. 
 
 I knew Dick before he made any profession oT 
 religion, and thought him an honest well-meaning 
 man, a facetious, sprightly companion ; his tem- 
 per tolerably good upon the whole; if affronted, 
 passionate, but easily pacified, being incapable of 
 bearing any malice to any one. He was grateful 
 for any favours or kindness towards him ; open 
 and unsuspecting, and friendly. I believe I may 
 add that he was capable of the highest degree oC 
 friendship. His sociable turn of mind at times 
 drew him into convivial parties. 
 
 Before he turned Methodist andL married, he 
 was addicted to the pleasures of lawless love ; but 
 he treated the sex in the kindestmanner. After he 
 turned Methodist be lived a strict religious life, 
 andwas>I thinfc^as I before observed, perfectly 
 
20 
 
 sincere in what he professed. I now can recollect 
 that he had some enthusiasm, and a spice of fana- 
 ticism. Such as were acquainted with him thought 
 that he generally lived a contented and happy life. 
 He bore some misfortunes which befel him with 
 fortitude. In short there was great reason to be- 
 lieve that religion had made a radical change in 
 his heart and life. 
 
 Reading much religious controversy, and dis- 
 puting about doctrines, has hurted many. 
 
 They dispute so much and long about it, 
 That even themselves begin to doubt it. 
 
 When Dick's mind was puzzled he was not so 
 strict, nor so universally attentive to preserve the 
 christian temper and manners as he had been ; so 
 that when he ventured on the writings of free- 
 thinkers, he was the more easily seduced from the 
 truth and simplicity of the gospel. For some time 
 after Dick had become, in his own conceit, a phi- 
 losopher ; he talked of the eternal rule of right ; 
 the fitness of things, of loving virtue merely for 
 its own sake, and a great deal to the same purpose. 
 Indeed at times he would insinuate, that the Chris- 
 tian had not so much reason to dread the commis- 
 sion of sin as a free-thinker had ; that infidels of 
 all men ought to be careful how thev lived, as they 
 did not believe that there was any intercessor for 
 transgressor ; but it was remarked that he grew 
 more relaxed in some moral duties. It is true 
 that to all appearance he remained an honest 
 generous tradesman, and was charitable to real 
 objects of distress •> but he would sometimes spead 
 
the major part of the night with free-tjiiiikittg 
 companions at a tavern. Two or three years af- 
 ter he commenced moral philosopher, he was not 
 able to resist the charms of his servant maid, al- 
 though he was possessed of an amiable wife, with 
 whom, to all appearance, he lived very happy, and 
 who both loved and esteemed her husband. 
 
 -"Lust, though to a radiant angel linVd, 
 
 Will satiate itseli'in a celestial bed, 
 
 And prey on garbage." 
 tf But virtue never will be moved, 
 " Though lewdness court it in the shape of heaven.^ 
 
 In novels v/e often read of men's planning deep- 
 ly, and taking incredible pains in order to seduce 
 wives : in real life even the most profligate part of 
 our sex do not commonly attack a fort that appears 
 to be impregnable, nor are they fond of going on 
 a forlorn hope. Those married women who at all, 
 times behave themselves as the delicacy of the 
 female character requires, have seldom complaints 
 of this nature to make Caesar would not have his 
 wife suspected ; no doubt but he had the same 
 ideas just hinted at The late pious Bishop Wil- 
 son says, in his 55th sermon : u Let but women so 
 behave themselves, as that the men may think 
 them chaste ; and they may be confident, nobody 
 will attempt them but in an honest way. 9 * He adds, 
 " But this is the real occasion of so many miscar- 
 riages : — people discover, cither by their very 
 vain dress, or looks, or words, or behaviour, 
 they discover that they do not fear God, that they 
 only want to be tempted; and this encourages 
 
22 
 
 those that arc as naught as thcrn selves to temrit, 
 and to gain their wicked ends of them." 
 
 Although Dick wos not quite so abandoned by- 
 honour and conscience as to be capable of violat- 
 ing the tics of friendship ; yet I have reason to be- 
 lieve that some of his infidel companions would 
 not have scrupled, forta moment's gratification, to 
 have sacrificed the peace and happiness of their 
 clearest friends. 
 
 I have been more particular in describing my 
 friend Dick's infidelity and vice* as in so doing I 
 have, in some particulars, described my own case 
 and that of others. 
 
 I am, dear friend, 
 
 Your's* 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 It seem'd as though his conscience would permit 
 A momentary pause, for one short gieam 
 Of hope to visit his benighted soul. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I THINK you will be glad to peruse the fol- 
 lowing letters, as they will help to convince you 
 of my being quite in earnest in renouncing infidel 
 principles and practices. They were wrote t%some 
 of my old sceptical companions. The first you 
 will perceive was wrote when I only began to see 
 the effects of infidel principles on the morals of 
 mankind, before I was convinced of the truths of 
 revealed religion. It was sent to Jack Jolly, in 
 March, 1799. 
 
 
u Dear Jack, 
 
 " I am uncertain whether you are dead or alive ; 
 in this world or in a better ; in a worse you can- 
 not be. Could I meet with Mercury when I have 
 finished this, I would transcribe a copy of it and 
 send it by him, directed to Jack Jolly, the philo- 
 sopher, in the Elysian Fields — inquire among the 
 votaries of Bacchus. 
 
 " As far as it regards yourself only, I do not 
 think it of much consequence whether you are 
 still alternately oppressed, and overwhelmed with 
 sickness and pain, or making merry with your jo- 
 vial companions over a bottle : now moralizing and 
 reasoning on moral and physical evil ; then find- 
 ing fault with administration ; one -white believing 
 in a great first cause, and then asserting that the 
 universe has existed from all eternity. In short, 
 whether you are still going on in the old dull round 
 of a little pleasure and much pain ; or, whether 
 you have quitted this insignificant motley scene, 
 for the chance of losing the happiness and misery 
 of existence, or of existing in a happier state of 
 things. But while I live in hopes of the pleasure 
 of hearing from you, (although but seldom) and of 
 again seeing you by my fire-side, I must confess, 
 that I am so selfish as to wish you may not have 
 had the start of me. I have sent you two letters 
 since I received one from you. If you really are 
 in a state of mortality, and should read this, do as- 
 sure me of it, and let me know how your excellent 
 wife is, and your children. I am also concerned 
 to k*iow how the philosopher your brother is. 
 
 " Tell me also what you now think of French 
 philosophy and philosophers^ The world is now 
 
24 
 
 more enigmatical than ever. Plutarch says that 
 superstition is worse than atheism ; several other 
 philosophers have repeated it after him* and you 
 and I Jiave believed it ; but now I have my doubts 
 about it. On the other hand, I know not how to 
 believe that ignorance and error can promote vir- 
 tue ; I really am much perplexed. One thing 
 seems certain, the breaking down of the old su- 
 perstitious dykes has brought on us an universa 
 deluge of vice and immorality, the effects of which 
 we must own are alarming in the highest degree. 
 
 "I have observed, that for a year or two past, a 
 shyness has taken place in me towards my free- 
 thinking authors ; I have seldom any thing to do 
 with them. Those late great favourites and con- 
 stant companions of mine are now neglected and 
 covered with dust ; for at times I can scarce help 
 thinking them chargeable with some of the dread- 
 ful evils that are now inundating Europe. 
 
 " A few years since you and I thought it Would 
 be charming to live in a state composed entirely of 
 free thinkers. I now shudder at the very idea. 
 No doubt there are some speculative infidels who, 
 like you, your brother, and myself, would gladly 
 act their part in society by endeavouring to pro- 
 mote the happiness of all their fellow creatures, 
 and even that of the animal world ; but we now 
 find that the bulk of mankind are only to be re- 
 strained by their hopes and fears. 
 
 u I am now grown more indifferent than ever as 
 to what others do, how they live, Sec. or even as to 
 what they think of me, or my way of life. I know 
 that I am thought to be a strange sort of a fellow, 
 as I neither hunt, shoot, drink, or play at cards. 
 
I read until I am tired. I then walk or work in 
 my garden, and in bad weather I cleave wood, &x. 
 Once a Meek I dine with Mrs. L.'s father, who ; 
 although a lawyer, is a very honest, peaceable gen* 
 tleman. He is also good to his poor neighbours, 
 and goes to church once a week, except 1 happen 
 to be there on Sunday when the service is in the 
 afternoon, when I keep him awake by relating all 
 the droll adventures that I can recollect. In my 
 turn I patiently listen to his old stories, although 
 I have heard them twenty times before; long 
 may he live in his peaceable and quiet mansion, 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Jack, 
 
 Your old friend, 
 Jlveston, March 10,'//, 1799. J. L. 
 
 I have since learned that Jack Jolly's brother 
 died about this time, and that Jack survived him 
 only about a year, but his health was so impaired 
 as to render !;im unable to write. What were his 
 dying sentiments I have endeavoured to learn, but 
 without success ; I fear they were not what I now 
 could wish them to be, as I wrote to an old infidel 
 relation of his to know what state his mind was in 
 when dying, but I never received any answer. As 
 you will have more particulars relating to Jack, I 
 will now add no more, but that, 
 
 I am, dear friend, your's, 
 
2<3 
 
 LETTER V.* 
 
 c< For hleaven virtue can alone prepare ; 
 " Vice would find herself unhappy there.'^ 
 
 OLD FRIEND, 
 
 I REMEMBER to have read twenty yeaTs 
 since, I believe in a translation of one of the Clas- 
 sics, of a man that was suspected of having mur- 
 dered his father ; but as no positive evidence was 
 advanced against him, it was thought unjust to 
 punish him. In order to be more satisfied in the 
 affair, a person, unknown to him, was ordered to 
 pay close attention to him every time he went to 
 sleep, which was accordingly done ; and on this 
 person's reporting that the suspected man slept 
 perfectly sound, it was concluded that he could 
 not have murdered his father. 
 
 I was led to the recollection of the above story 
 by some part of my last letter to you, reflecting 
 on the surprise it possibly might give you on read- 
 ing of it. I was by a train of reasoning brought to 
 conclude (as I have no faith in a death bed repent- 
 ance) that if a person cannot sleep soundly who 
 has been gulty of any horrid crime, he certainly 
 cannot die in peace, but will be tormented by his 
 guilty conscience : so that if at that awful period 
 he is in good humour and can laugh, like Ann 
 
 * This letter was wrote when I only admitted the 
 truth of natural religion /—The- letter alluded to in tb'* 
 is oroitted. 
 
27 
 
 JBoleyn and others mentioned in my last, I, with 
 the apostle, " trust that he hath a good con- 
 science" 
 
 But my dear friend, if because I could wish to 
 die in a perfect good humour, like the emperor 
 Augustus, you think me a mere trifler, and an 
 enemy to serious thoughts, you never was more 
 misUhen, as no man can think more gravely on 
 serious subjects than I do at times, and that fre- 
 quently ; but then I insist on it, that a time of 
 sickness, when the body is overwhelmed with pain 
 and disorders, is not a suitable time for repent- 
 ance ; much less should that important work be 
 deferred to a death-bed. Nothing surprises me 
 more than to hear or read that rational beings, or 
 some who would be thought such, talk of making 
 their peace with Heaven on their death-bed. 
 
 The greatest offenders against the laws of soci* 
 ety,in general shew great contrition when brought 
 to the gallows ; yet no one is so ignorant as to be- 
 lieve that their repentance is of that kind as, w ere 
 their lives spared, would prevent them from com- 
 mitting other daring offences. How then can we 
 imagine that the heart of a villain who has the 
 good luck to escape the gallows 3 can be totally 
 changed on his de nth -bed. 
 
 I wish from my soul that our dramatic and nov- 
 el writers had not given so many deep wounds to 
 morality as, from observation, I have great rea- 
 son to think they have done by their frequent insin- 
 uations of the efficacy of a few days, sometimes a 
 few hours repentance or remorse. Surely, in all 
 such productions,, every villain and immoral char- 
 
28 
 
 actcr should be " sent to his account with all iliti 
 imperfections on his head :" for it is scarcely pos- 
 sible for the devil himself to insinuate any ideas 
 more destructive to moral rectitude than the suf- 
 ficiency of remorse of conscience on a death-bed. 
 Homer relates the death of lilpenor in a very 
 concise manner; and to Christians it must appear 
 awful : 
 
 Fall headlong from the roof the sleeper fell, 
 And snajjp'd his spinal joint and wak'd in hell. 
 pope's odysey. 
 
 I have often been puzzled to find out where 
 those authors of plays and novels, (some of whom 
 are very respect-able, and deserve the esteem of 
 the community) learned their notions of repent- 
 ance. They did not learn them from the scrip- 
 tures, for in them repentance is made to consist 
 of an entire change of heart and life. Natural 
 religion teaches the same doctrine. By the works, 
 of the learned we find that the viedam of the Per- 
 sians, the sacred books of the ancient Bramins, 
 the morals of Confucius, all hold forth the same 
 notions in respect to repentance. The heathen 
 philosophers taught the same doctrine ; Plato says, 
 that such men as have only committed venial sins, 
 must repent all their lives afterwards ; and even 
 though they spend the remainder of their lives in 
 repentance, yet that they must of necessity be 
 cast into Tartarus for a time. This great philos- 
 opher, in his Commonwealth, and also in his trea- 
 tise of the Immortality of the Soui, supposes that 
 souls, both good and bad, carry their good or evil 
 
dispositions -with them into the other world ; or 
 in other words, that every man carries the seeds of 
 eternal happiness or misery in his own mind : so 
 that if we go into the other world with evil pas- 
 sions unmodified, they will not only be far more 
 violent than now, but our perception of them will 
 be pure and unalloyed by any intermixture of en- 
 joyment. 
 
 Dr. Scott* in the three first chapters of his 
 Christian Life, has pursued the Platonic doctrine 
 through all its consequences. It is well worth the 
 attention even of a philosopher. Mr. Boyd has 
 given us an excellent summary view of the Pla- 
 tonic doctrine with respect to a future state, at the 
 end of his translation of Dante's Inferno: I will 
 give you a few short extracts. 
 
 "The souls of men, whenever they leave the 
 body, doubtless associate with spirits like them- 
 selves.'* 
 
 " We cannot see how spirits act upon each oth- 
 er, yet there is no doubt but the plagues inflict- 
 ed by spirits upon spirits are as immediate as 
 those inflicted by body upon body." 
 
 " What woeful society must that be ? where all 
 trust and confidence is banished, and every one 
 stands upon his guard, tortured with eternal vigi- 
 lance of surrounding mischiefs ! when all his em- 
 ployment is diabolical fraud. Their society is 
 like the monster Scylla, whom the poet speaks 
 of, whose inferior parts were a company of dogs 
 continually snarling and quarrelling among them- 
 selves, and yet inseparable from each other, as 
 being parts of the same substance." 
 
 C2 
 
11 As the punishment arises in a great cegree 
 from the acquired habit, it must last as long as 
 the existence of the criminal." 
 
 In every act of virtue there is an imperfect union 
 of the soul with God, and some degree of the 
 pleasure of heaven. When habit has made the 
 exercise of virtue delightful, we shall find our- 
 selves under the central force of heaven, sweetly 
 drawn along by the powerful magnetism of ks 
 joy and pleasure. " 
 
 From every point of view, I think it is evident 
 that repentance does not consist in a momentary 
 sorrow, but in a change of disposition and life. 
 
 I must confess that 1 cannot help thinking, that 
 heaven would be a strange sort of a place if every 
 rascal, knave, and fool were permitted to go there, 
 who have on their death-bed, experienced remorse 
 of conscience. Such wretches as these have made 
 a hell of this world to all connected with them ; 
 and are they to make a hell of heaven also ? Can 
 one conceive a worse hell than it would be for a 
 perfectly honest man to live eternally with a 
 rogue, or a virtuous woman with an old bawd ? 
 
 Wc laugh when we read of the Indians in the 
 East, firmly believing that if they can but die with 
 a cow's tail in their hand, they are (juite sure of 
 going to heaven ; but are not our notions to the 
 full ;is absurd as theirs ? Is our death bed repent- 
 ance any thing more than a cow's tail in our hand ? 
 ;i It must be allowed that it is the height of 
 presumption to set bounds to the mercies of God ; 
 but may it not give encouragement to vice, to 
 Hatter ourselves with the expectation of pardon 
 
31 
 
 Tor the greatest crimes, on the easy terms of what 
 we call repentance ; which, after all, may be fal« 
 bcious, or at best imperfect ? 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 YourV, 
 
 BETTER VI. 
 
 O ye fallen ! 
 Fallen from [he wiiigs of reason and of hope, f 
 Erect in statute, prone in appetite ! 
 Patrons of pleasure, posting into pain ! 
 Lovers of argument, averse to sense ! 
 Boasters of liberty, fast bound in chains ! 
 — Fall he must wno learns from death alone 
 The dreadful secret — that he lives forever. 
 
 NIGHT THOUGH Tf. 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 For a year or more after I wrote 
 the last of the two preceding letters, I continued 
 in a state of perplexity which increased upon me< 
 At last I procured some books in defence of divine 
 revelation, and soon after some authors on prac- 
 tical divinity ; but it was with difficulty that I 
 prevailed on myself to avow the alteration that had 
 by that time taken place in my sentiments. I 
 however, at last, wrote the following letter tu 
 I B. 
 
 " Old Acquaintance, 
 I have no right, nor any inclination to upbraid 
 Von ; your past conduct, on reflection, must mak£ 
 
you so truly miserable as to render you an object 
 of commiseration. You know by the trifle which 
 I sent you by Mr. D. that I was in T — n last June, 
 and heard without much surprise that you were 
 come from London, and was then in the poor-house. 
 On this occasion very gloomy ideas took posses* 
 sion of my mind ; so painful were my feelings 
 that I could not call upon you. I believe few peo- 
 ple feel more than I do on seeing an old compan- 
 ion reduced by his own misconduct to a state of 
 wretched poverty ; yet painful as those reflections 
 were, I had still more distressing thoughts of your 
 *ery sad case. I, in imagination, saw you stretch- 
 ed on a wretched bed, groaning under the aches 
 and pains of disease, a ruined constitution, and 
 premature old age ; and, what is still a thousand 
 times worse, I pictured your features distorted, 
 and your countenance made ghastly by the ex- 
 cruciating tortures you suffered in your mind ! 
 Our spirit, or fortitude, may support us in bear- 
 ing the infirmities of the body, as sickness and 
 pain ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ? I have 
 not finished my melancholy picture. What I have 
 to add is still more dreadful ! This poor man, 
 (said I,;) so racked and tortured, is perhaps without 
 God in the world ! Horror of horrors ! Of all the 
 most terrifying ideas this is now to me the most 
 frightful ? To be without God in the world ! ! ! Oh, 
 ye French atheists, take away our liberty ; take all 
 that we have ; put us in a dungeon, or on the rack ; 
 but do not by your sophistical arguments endea- 
 vour tojrob us, poor wretched mortals, of our God ! 
 
A soul in converse with her God, is heav'n; 
 
 Peels not the tumults and the. shocks of life ; 
 
 The whirls of passion, and the strokes of heart 
 
 A Deity believed is joy beg*un : 
 
 A "Peily ador'd is joy advanced ; 
 
 A Deity belov'd is joy matur'd. 
 
 Each branch of piety delight inspires i 
 
 Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next, 
 
 O'er death's dark gulph, and all its horrors hides 5 
 
 Pia.se, the sweet exhalation of our joy, 
 
 That joy exhalts and makes it sweeter still * 
 
 rray'r ardent opens heaven, and lets down a stream* 
 
 Of glory on the con ecrated hour 
 
 Of man in Audience wi Ji the Deity. 
 
 Who worships the great God that instant joins 
 
 The first in heav'n, and sets his foot on hell. 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 The reasonof my troubling you with my gloomy* 
 thoughts on your present situation and state of 
 mind is this : I remember between twenty and 
 thirty years since, you was made acquainted with, 
 my sceptical state of mind ; and although 1 he»ve£ 
 approved of your rudely obtruding your opinions 
 in company, or your endeavouring to turn others 
 out of the good old way ; yet, as perhaps by my 
 example or remarks, or by lending you books you 
 may have been more or less confirmed in anti- 
 christian opinions, I could not rest satisfied un- 
 til I had informed you that my mind has under- 
 gone a very great change ; that I have a thousand 
 times heartily repented, that the pernicious writ- 
 ings of witty infidels should ever have made me 
 even doubt of the truth of the heart-improving, 
 soul-cheering doctrines of Christianity. 
 
 I must also inform you that I have seen the 
 dread fid effects of infidelity on others. Some of 
 
$4 
 
 my mo^t intimate acquaintance, before they were 
 infected with infidelity were examples of piety and 
 virtue ; but, having once turned their backs on the 
 religion of Christ, they soon became slaves to the 
 most degrading vices. Several that you saw at 
 my house when you first came to London, did by 
 their sad way of life, bring on themselves shock- 
 ing disorders, under which they suffered many 
 years, before they were summoned to give up 
 their accounts. There, profane wit and ribaldry 
 are no more. 
 
 Although I have an aversion to fanaticism and 
 enthusiasm, yet I would much rather again listen 
 to the poor ignorant enthusiastic David Burford, 
 whom you must well remember, than to the most 
 shrewd and witty remarks of my o'd freethinking 
 acquaintance, who used to set the table in a roar. 
 These clever, sensible, witty fellows, with all their 
 subtile reasoning, had not understanding enough 
 to live like rational beings, but by their vicious 
 practices brought on themselves years of pain and 
 misery, and shortened their existence. The good 
 old David Burford's fear of God made him live so- 
 berly and righteously; his faith enabled him ma- 
 ny years to bear poverty and affliction with cheer- 
 fulness, as believing that all would work together 
 for his good — as he would often tell us. His hope 
 of going to a better world enabled him to expect 
 his approaching dissolution with joy. 
 
 deep is the st; ke, 
 
 An I awf il the inquiry — how the spill 
 
 May smile at death, and meet its God in pence. 
 
 DODD. 
 
 O, old acquaintance, this very poor and very 
 ignorant old man, was \n reality much wiser than 
 
3*5 
 
 we have been, although we used to laugh at and 
 despise him. May we begin to live the life, that 
 at last we may die the death of this poor simple 
 weaver ! 
 
 Among all your freethinking acquaintance did 
 you ever know one whose reading, learning, or 
 wit enabled him to live so uprightly and comfort- 
 ably in so much poverty and affliction ; or who 
 could, like him, look death steadily in the face 
 with humble joy. Young says truly, 
 
 " A Christian is the highest stile of man." 
 
 The most learned, the wisest, and best of men 
 were Christians. In reading history and biogra- 
 phy we learn, that many of the most intelligent 
 men, after many years spent in voluminous libra- 
 ries in eager search of science, of knowledge, and 
 wisdom, have, in the end, thrown aside even the 
 most respectable works of ancient and modern 
 philosophers, moralists, historians, politicians, po- 
 ets, &c. and have in their partly-neglected Bible 
 found a treasure which every where else they had 
 sought for in vain. The brightest geniuses havfe 
 found ample satisfaction in that book. There is 
 the sublime and the beautiful ; the most pathetic 
 stories, and elegant parables ; the grandest de- 
 scriptions and the most august ideas of the Deity; 
 the most perfect morality ; the greatest motives 
 to virtue,aad the most awful denunciations against 
 vice. In a word, in that book we are taught the 
 way of holy living ; and by sjp living we ensure to 
 
ourselves an eternal state of felicity in the realms 
 of everlasting light and love. 
 I a in, 
 
 Old Acquaintance, 
 
 Yours, See. 
 
 J.L 
 
 jilveston, Jan. 1, 1803 
 
 To this letter I did not receive any answer un- 
 til Jiyiethe same year. It is timeto conclude this. 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 . Your's, 
 
 LETTER VII, 
 
 When late there is less time to play the J'oot, 
 Soon our whole term for wisdom is expir'd, 
 (Thou kro^\st she calls no council in the grave;) 
 And everlasting- foot is writ \x\firt\ 
 Or real yvisdom wai'is us to the skies. 
 
 VOUN'G. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 BY J. J>.'s leter to me in June, it 
 appears that an alteration has also taken place in 
 his sentiments. The following letter, which I 
 sent to him about a month after, will sufficiently 
 inform you of the contents of his to me. 
 
 " Old Acquaintance, 
 I sincerely rejoice to learn from your letter to 
 me that GocJ has not finally given you over to strong 
 
157 
 
 deluswns still to believe a lie, for not obeying the 
 gospel of Christ. I am also happy to learn that 
 you have a better conviction than that which only 
 brings with it a fearful looking for of judgment and 
 t fiery indignation, which is ready to be floured forth 
 on the adversaries of Christ. May God, who is so 
 rich in mercy, establish both yowand me in the truth 
 as is is in Christy and in every goodnvord and nvork, 
 that we may not be in the number of those thai- 
 draw back unto Jierdit ion, but of those that believe 
 to the saving of the soul. 
 
 The life of Christ may well fill you with admi- 
 ration and devotion. I was, even when an infidel, 
 struck dumb and confounded whenever, for a fe*w 
 moments, I seriously reflected on his wonderful 
 character. We have not only been wicked, but 
 also astonishingly stupid in professing to disbe- 
 lieve miracles, when at the same time we were 
 obliged to believe the greatest of miracles : That 
 the son of a poor obscure carpenter, brought up in 
 a very ignorant, scandalous village, could speak az 
 never man spake, and live among the dregs of man 
 kind like a God ! 
 
 -In his blessed life, 
 
 We see the path, 'and in his death the price, 
 And in his great ascent, the proof supreme 
 Of im mortality. . 
 
 DR. YOUNG. 
 
 You say that you have but one book of youi* 
 own, which is the New-Testament. In possess- 
 ing that you have the best book in the world ; a 
 book which angels could not have composed : a 
 book, which the primitive Christians esteemed 
 more than their lives \ rather than suffer one of 
 
the Gospels or Epistles to be destroyed they sub- 
 mitted to the most cruel torments, and enuured 
 the most lingering, ignominious deaths. 
 
 But for this book we should have been in worse 
 than Egyptian darkness : the intellectual world 
 would have been without a sun ; we should have 
 blundered in the dark ; have stumbled upon error 
 after error, without one cheering and enlightening 
 ray 
 
 (i And found no end in wondering- mazes lost." 
 
 But in those sacred pages life and immortality 
 is brought to light ; a glorious prospect is open- 
 ed to us beyond the grave, where clouds and dark- 
 ness are no more 
 
 I am glad you have friends who will lend you 
 plenty of books. Yes, he must be stupid indeed, 
 whom even a little knowledge in astronomy does 
 not fill with devotion. 
 
 But even among the stars do not forget your 
 New-Testament ; that, by the blessing of God, 
 may make you wise unto salvation : and should 
 that really be the case with you, perhaps you may 
 be employed to all eternity in contemplating infi- 
 nite wisdom and goodness among those stupen- 
 dous works of the great incomprehensible CREA- 
 TOR of those innumerable worlds. 
 
 Till lost in one immensity of space, 
 
 A sense of Deity o'erwhelms your soul. 
 
 COURTIER 
 
 If among the books of divinity that you are so 
 kinxlly offered the use of, you can borrow any of 
 
39 
 
 the following, they will help to establish you in jthe 
 belief of the truth of Divine Revelation : — Paley's 
 Evidence of Christianity ; Bishop Watson's A- 
 pology for the Bible, in letters to Thomas Paine ; 
 Bishop Porteus' Compendium of the Evidences of 
 Christianity; Addison's Evidences of the Chris- 
 tian Religion ; Madame Genlis' Religion the only 
 Basis of Happiness and true Philosophy, in which 
 the Principles of the modern pretended Philoso- 
 phers are laid open and refuted, 2 vols. Butler's 
 Divine Analogy; Bentley against Collins ; Bent- 
 ley's Sermons on the folly of Atheism ; Jenkin's 
 Reasonableness and Certainty of the Christian re- 
 ligion, 2 vols. I have lately read the whole of these 
 works with great satisfaction. If you are fond of 
 real philosophy and astronomy, you will be highly 
 pleased with Bentley 's Sermons on the folly of 
 Atheism. Paley's is an extraordinary good work. 
 Butler's Analogy is a very gr,eat work. Jenkin's 
 is the most copious and the best work I ever read 
 in defence of divine revelation. It treats in a 
 clear manner of the necessity of a divine revela- 
 tion, antiquity of the scriptures, God's dispensa- 
 tions under the Patriarchs, Moses, Judges, Kings, 
 and Christ ; the wisdom and goodness of v;cd is 
 excellently displayed in the manner of the promul- 
 gation 1 and preservation of the scriptures ; various 
 difficulties are cleared and objections answered. 
 The author has, through the whole discovered 
 great depth of thought, a thorough knowledge of 
 the history of the four great monarchies men- 
 tioned in the Old Testament, and of other an- 
 cient nations ; which he has brought forward in 
 conformation of the truth of divine revelation. In 
 
4g 
 
 reading this excellent learned production, I could 
 not help reraarkiwg the wonderful difference that 
 there is between tiiis work and the poor superfi- 
 cial works of freethinkers. Had those freethinkers 
 ever read this work, tiiey never would have expo- 
 sed their own ignorance as tbey have done ; and 
 had you and I, and others of our acquaintance, beeiv 
 acquainted with it, we never should have been so 
 seduced, perverted and imposed upon by shallow 
 pretenders to sense and learning. Were I still a 
 bookseller, I would immediately work off a very 
 large impression, sell them cheap, and disperse 
 them through every part of the world. The work 
 has gone through various editions. It has been 
 greatly enlarged and improved since it was first 
 published. Before I conclude, I would seriously 
 advise you not to read any controversies on points 
 of doctrine or articles of faith ; what is absolutely 
 necessary to be known is plainly revealed. 
 
 " Not deeply to discern, or much to know, 
 "Mankind were born to wonder and adore. 
 
 The more you read the New-Testament the 
 more you will enter into and partake of the spirit 
 of it ; and your love for it will increase in propor- 
 tion. Read also- as much practical divinity as you 
 can : we all stand in need of every aid to keep us 
 Mi a true Christian disposition, and steady in the 
 profession of Christianity. Dr. Young says, 
 
 At thirty man suspects himself a fool : 
 KncrtCi it at forty and reforms his plan r 
 At fifty chicles his infamous delay, 
 Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve-, 
 
41 
 
 In all the magnanimity of thought 
 
 Resolves ; and re -resolves ; then dies the- same. 
 
 NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 Neither you nor I considered that we were very 
 great fools until we were more than fifty. The 
 last line has been verified in thousands. God grant 
 that it may not prove true of us also. 
 I am, 
 
 Old Acquaintance, 
 Your's, 
 Mvestcii) July 28, 1803. J. L." 
 
 You see, dear friend, the melancholy effects of 
 infidelity even in this life ; to what poverty, shame, 
 and disgrace have thousands of its votaries been 
 reduced. The conversion of this poor creature 
 should also encourage us to use what abilities we 
 may possess, however small they may be, in order 
 to reclaim others. We should put proper books 
 into their hands, and never be tired or discourag- 
 ed. Small causes have often produced great ef- 
 fects. I have been just reading of an atheist who 
 was converted by one word. The story is related 
 by Madame de Genlisin her " Religion consider- 
 ed as the only basis of Happiness and of true Phi- 
 losophy," vol. i. p. 76. I will transcribe the pas- 
 sage : 
 
 She says, " Others after having doubted all 
 i; their lives, change in a moment their sentiments 
 " and dispositions. I knew a man of great sense 
 <: and very high character, whose conversion was 
 " brought about by a single word. He was yet in 
 & the age of the passions ; he had never possessed 
 L 2 
 
 i 
 
42 
 
 * thp least principle of religion ; and he prided 
 <c himself on being an atheist. One day, in the 
 " presence of an ecclesiastic, equally distinguish- 
 **> ed by his eminent virtues and talents, he affect- 
 " ed to brave all decorum, which ought at that in- 
 " stant to have constrained him to have held his 
 " tongue at least ; and after having giver, him a de- 
 
 - " tail of his sentiments and opinions, he ironically 
 " added, that, according to every appearance, he 
 4 < should never be converted. Ah, exclaimed the 
 " ecclesiastic, who till then had been silent, it 
 ** you could but hope ! — He said no more, he got 
 u up and went out. But these words made a 
 u deep impression upon the heart of the atheist : 
 
 * he had no difficulty to comprehend their ener- 
 w getic meaning ; he felt himself moved and af- 
 " fected ; a croud of new reflections presented 
 " themselves to his mind ; he longed to see and 
 <* converse again with the man who had produced 
 " in him so strange a revolution. The next day 
 K he even went in search of him ; he opened to 
 " him his heart, asked his advice, hearkened to 
 " him with attention, with eagerness : and from 
 " that moment renounced forever the vain soph- 
 4t isms of false philosophers. Such is the power 
 u of grace, it can produce in a moment the most 
 ;i surprising metamorphoses, and its effects will 
 a ever confound the incredulous observer, who 
 § shall be acquainted with the human heart/' 
 
 I am 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Yours, 
 
LETTER VIS. 
 
 Ye loVd associates of unclouded hours, 
 Whom I remember still, where are ye now ? 
 Ah, whither tost by life's unfriendly waves ! 
 Perhaps on earth we never more may meet. 
 
 COURTIER. 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 THE two preceding letters were addressed to 
 Mr. D. and by him conveyed to J. B. in the poor- 
 house in T n. When I was an apprentice, 
 
 Mr. D. came to work in the same shop as a jour* 
 neyman, and two or three years after the death 
 of my master he married my mistress, to whom 
 he made an excellent husband ; he buried her 
 two or three years since. While he was a jour- 
 neyman, I advised him to go and hear the Metho- 
 dist preachers ; he did so ; and for more than 
 thirty years has been an upright, friendly religious 
 man. 
 
 As Mr. D. is a very old acquaintance of mine, 
 and also of J. B. I requested him to read my first 
 letter to J. B. as he was ill. The reading of it 
 gave him much pleasure, as he found that I had 
 again embraced that religion which I had so long 
 disbelieved ; and he wrote a letter to congratulate 
 me on the occasion. I will give you my answer 
 to Mr. D's letter. 
 
 u SIR, 
 
 M You perhaps may have remarked, that when- 
 ever I visit T — n, I also always visit the fields by 
 the side t£ the river, and other places where, in 
 
44 
 
 my youthful days, I spent many of my leisure 
 hours ; from whence you may infer, that in those 
 old favourite walks I endeavour to recollect the 
 old and pleasing, sensations which I felt while I 
 was conversing with my old companions in those 
 charming rural retreats, some of whom are now 
 no more. 
 
 " On this side and on that we see our friends 
 Drop offline leaves in autumn. " 
 
 Others of them have lost every pious and vir- 
 tuous sentiment : so that I cannot visit those old 
 delightfuljhaunts without finding that my pleasing 
 recollections are tinctured with melancholy. 
 
 -Gracious God ! 
 
 How wonderful a compound, mixture strange, 
 Incongruous, inconsistent, is frail man. 
 
 1TR. DODD, 
 
 . As every field where I used to converse with 
 |*iy old acquaintance affords me delight, I hope 
 you will believe me when I assure you that I find 
 great pleasure in seeing, or even hearing from any 
 one of them who have preserved a good con- 
 science. I was the more pleased with your let- 
 ter, dated Jan. 17, 1803, as from it I learn (what 
 I had long since forgot,) that it was at my request 
 you first was prevailed upon to hear those men 
 whose discourses first made a religious impression 
 on your mind, and have influenced your conduct 
 ever since. I am not a Methodist ; yet, I must 
 own that, as by their means you have been bless- 
 ed with grace, courage, and resolution to withstand 
 
45 
 
 the temptation of the devil and a sinful world, and 
 have, as an earnest of heaven, attained that peace 
 of mind which worlds cannot purchase, and »o- 
 thing but a relapse into sin can destroy ; if through 
 them you attained that well grounded hope which 
 hath kept you steady in all the storms of this 
 tempestuous state of things, where, at times, you 
 can extend your prospect to future scenes where 
 all is calm and sunshine, I do not wonder that 
 you should wish to live and die in their connec- 
 tion. I hope I shall ever love and honour such 
 of your community as by their lives and exam- 
 ples shew that they are Christians indeedl 
 
 Have you not remarked that those who have 
 remained the most steady, have in general been 
 such as were most free from enthusiasm and fa- 
 naticism ? I wish those who think that they now 
 stand firm, may take heed lest they fall. Shall I 
 tell you that most of the free-thinkers of my ac- 
 quaintance were once professors of religion, who 
 had contracted a habit for disputation. It has of- 
 ten happened that men have disputed so long- 
 about points of doctrine, that they have forgot the 
 principal part of religion. We read of some of 
 old who held the truth in unrighteousness, who 
 are considered as in the direct road to delusion, 
 and likely soon to believe in lies. Indeed it ap- 
 pears to me, that it is of little consequence what 
 a man believes, if he neglects his duty towards 
 God and man. 
 
 I think the following passage, which gave 
 Messrs. Hill and Co- so much offence, and was the 
 first Cccasidn of the controversy between them 
 
46 
 
 and Mr. Fletcher, ought to be printed in letters of 
 gold, and hung up in all your preaching houses. 
 
 The passage is in the minutes of the Confer- 
 ence held in August, 1770. Mr. Wesley says, 
 " Does not talking of a justified or sanctified state 
 tend to mislead men ? > Almost naturally leading them 
 to trust in what was done in one moment ? Whereas 
 we are every hour and moment pleasing or displeas- 
 ing to God according to our works, according to oyr 
 inward tempers and outward behaviour." 
 
 But to return, as I had no intention to ramble at 
 this rate ; I meant to observe, that although living 
 according to the mild precepts of the gospel is the 
 only way of living happily in this world ; yet, we 
 are such poor purblind mortals as to wish to ex- 
 tinguish the sun and walk by a taper ; we first 
 grow tired of the necessary restraints which the 
 religion of Christ enforces, and think his gracious 
 precepts hard sayings: in this state of mind, having 
 already lost part of the disposition and temper of 
 Christianity, we grow more remiss in public wor- 
 ship and private devotion, in observing the sabbath, 
 Sec. then conscience upbraids and mak^s us un- 
 happy ; and if in this state of mind we happen to 
 read, or hear, any sceptical arguments against re- 
 vealed religion, doubts and perplexity succeed, and 
 the more a person doubts of the divine authority 
 of the gospel precepts, the more careless will he 
 live ; but still conscience will disturb his quiet 
 and perhaps make him quire miserable at times. 
 In this unstable state he may continue for several 
 months or years, till at length to get rid of his un- 
 easy mind, he dips again into books of infidelity, 
 where probably he finds God represented as not 
 
47 
 
 attending to the frailties and follies of mortals ; or 
 perhaps he finds virtue and vice represented as 
 qualities capable of arbitrary definitions, revealed 
 religion as mere priestcraft, Sec. &c. In such au- 
 thors, specious arguments are adduced, often good 
 reasoning from wrong propositions, and truth and 
 talsekood are so artfully blended together, that in 
 the end he is prevailed upon to give up his Chris- 
 tianity, and by degrees his conscience is quite 
 laid asleep. 
 
 In my next I will give you a further account of 
 my progress in infidelity. 
 
 I am, 
 Sir, your's, &c 
 
 I. L." 
 
 Alvexton Feb. 8, 1803. 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 In hellish banquets, and obscene delights, 
 The curst t^sembly here consume the nights. 
 
 E. ROWE. 
 
 -But if there's an hereafter ; 
 
 And that there is conscience tells every man ; 
 Then must it be an awful thing to die. 
 
 BLAIR 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I WILL now transcribe my second letter to 
 Mr. D. I know m>i well how to make it shorter. 
 
48 
 
 
 SIR, 
 
 " Perhaps for some time the young freethinker 
 does not commit any great sin, at least not what 
 is called such ; it is likely he will for a while pride 
 himself on his very decent conduct, and talk of be- 
 ing governed by the religion of nature, philoso- 
 phical principles, &c. But having given up Chris- 
 tianity, he soon grows tired of his religious ac- 
 quaintance, as he does not like their endeavours 
 and serious arguments to convince him of his er- 
 ror. Having got rid of his pious acquaintance, he 
 looks out for some of those who, like himself, are 
 become philosophers. With ihose he at first 
 takes "a philosophical walk," or " cup of tea-" 
 As their acquaintance increases they dine at each 
 other's house. When this young free-thinker is 
 thought to be pretty wellconfirmed in his aversion 
 to Christianity, he is invited to din© or sup with a 
 party of those philosophers at a tavern. The two 
 or three first times he goes home early and in 
 good order. In those convivial parties lie hears 
 many stories against parsons, and many witty jests 
 upon religion, under the name of superstition ; 
 so that, by degrees, he becomes more hardened, 
 his love for those meetings increases and makes 
 him unwilling to part with those jovial compani- 
 ons. " Sure taking a cheerful glass can be no 
 sin : God, say they, delights to see his creatures 
 happy: let us have another bottle ;" which is 
 perhaps accompanied with an obscene or blas- 
 phemous song. Another song and another bottle 
 is called for until they are intoxicated. In this 
 state they reel into the street at two or three in 
 the morning? where they are sometimes picked 
 
49 
 
 up by the prostitutes, and enticed into brothels^ 
 from whence they carry home to their wives those 
 loathsome diseases which often contaminate the 
 blood of several generations, and fur which their 
 own children will perhaps execrate their me- 
 mory. 
 
 In this manner many soon learn to spend most 
 of their nights ; their days are mostly consum- 
 ed in sleep; their business is lost; their for- 
 tunes run out, and their constitution totally ruin- 
 ed. Some of them are carried off by sudden 
 deaths ; others linger out a few years in great mi- 
 sery, and then die in a horrid state of doubt and 
 fearful apprehension. And not a few of those 
 philosophers have, by their principles and conduct 
 brought themselves into such an unhappy state of 
 mind as not to be able to endure existence, but 
 have 
 
 te Just reeking from self-slaughter, in a rage, 
 " Rush'd into the presence of their Judge ; 
 " As if they challengM him to do his worst.'* 
 
 Although those imaginary philosophers see 
 their companions drop off one after another, they 
 arc so far from taking warning that they do all 
 they can to harden one another, by urging every 
 argument they can think of against the immortali- 
 ty of the soul, a future state, and even against the 
 very being of a God ! 
 
 I could fill volumes, were I to be particular, in 
 describing the beginning and progress of infidelity 
 among those whom I have known since I first com- 
 menced bookseller, as many of them came often to 
 E 
 
my shop, and about twenty-two years since I was. 
 often in such taverns and meetings as I have re- 
 ferred to above. 
 
 Before the French revolution, infidelity had made 
 great havock in England ; but there is great reason 
 to fear that since it has increased an hundred fold * 
 and God only knows where this destructive pesti- 
 lence will end. It, however, is matter of great con- 
 solation to see that several of our Bishops, and other 
 sensible, learned clergymen, and also some able 
 dissenting ministers, have published excellent con- 
 futations of the works of infidels. The clergy have 
 also taken other wise and pious measures to stop, 
 as much as possible, the progress of infidelity ; and 
 every man that has any regard for religion or mo- 
 rality, should put a hand to the good work. Those 
 who can afford to do it should purchase such tracts 
 against infidel principles as are published at a low 
 price, and disperse them as much as possible 
 wherever they are likely to do good. That cheap 
 editions of all such works as are favourable to 
 Christianity are not to be met with is much to be 
 regretted. Several of those works might be de- 
 cently printed, and well afforded, for one quarter 
 their present prices. It is owing to their extra- 
 vagant dearness that so few are sold. Had they 
 . been published at low prices, tens of thousands 
 more would have been disposedof, by which much 
 good might have been done, while the publishers* 
 profits would, in the end, be greater, in conse- 
 quence of the increased sale of the books. It 
 would also be a great help to the cause of religion 
 ?f the wealthy part of the community were todis- 
 
perse cheap tracts on practical divinity, togeth^f 
 with cheap bibles, and testaments. I have remark- 
 ed, that many persons who would not be at the ex- 
 pence or trouble of purchasing books, will either 
 read themselves or make their children read to 
 them, when books' arc put into their hands. 
 
 It is natural to add, that those who can do nor- 
 thing else for the cause of God, should shew, by 
 their good examples, the influence of religion upon 
 their life and conversation : this has often produ- 
 ced great effects upon scoffers. On the other hand, 
 when infidels see that such as call themselves Chris- 
 tians can neglect the public worship of God, break 
 the sabbath, be covetous or prodigal, proud and 
 overbearing, or mean and undermining, drunkards 
 or gluttons, defrauders and cheats, backbiters and 
 slanderers, swearers, liars, &c. they are ready to 
 conclude that such persons do not believe in a day 
 *of judgment, when every one shall be dealt with 
 according to the deeds done in the body. 
 
 The late pious Bishop Home, in one of his ser- 
 mons says," some men considered as Christians, 
 engaged in the concerns of a better world, and a 
 view of their conduct, is really sufficient to make a 
 thinking unbeliever conclude, that nine parts in 
 ten of them either believe no more than himself, 
 or that a statute of lunacy should be forth with ta- 
 ken out against them." 
 
 I know that freethinkers will divert and harden 
 one another with accounts of the bad practices of 
 such as pretend to believe in Christ : so that such 
 as call themselves Christians, and at the same time 
 live in the open breach of God's laws, ars strength* 
 
5» 
 
 eiiingthe cause of infidelity. Those, (saith Christ,}, 
 who are not with me are against me. 
 I am, 
 
 Sir, 
 Your's, 
 Aiveston, Feb. 16, 1803. J. L." 
 
 I will defer the remainder of what I wrote to 
 Mr. D. until my next. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Wildly-wavering rolls the dubious mind 
 
 From thought to thouglvt, uncertain where its search 
 
 Should end — 
 
 * * * # #».*** 
 
 Convinc'd by truth, the enlightened mind no more 
 Suspends its full assent. 
 
 ogilvie's providence. 
 
 DEA^l FRIEND, 
 
 I WILL now give you my list 
 letter to Mr. D. 
 
 " Sir, 
 Yes, Sir, by the great mercy of God I am, (as 
 you say.) returned to the study of my Bible. You 
 may well be affected with my wonderful escape 
 from such a dreadful precipice, on the crumbling 
 Brirtk of which I long slept. For fhc9e last twoor 
 
three years I have not even loved the sight of that 
 part of my private library where the books stand 
 which seduced me from the simplicity of the gos- 
 pel. They have been to me Will 6* the Wis/is ; and 
 1 have followed them through bog and quagmire, 
 briars and thorns, until my poor benighted and 
 bewildered mind was lost in such a labyrinth, that 
 it was next to impossible for me ever to find my 
 way out. As I suppose you will be glad to know 
 how so great a deliverance was effected, I will give 
 you a short account of it. 
 
 Notwithstanding the bad lives of some infidels of 
 my acquaintance, as I continued to retain a regard 
 to decency, honour and honesty, myself; and as a 
 few freethinkers are studious, and, to appearance, 
 moral characters, professing to believe in natural 
 religion, while, on the other hand, I have remarks 
 ed that some were guilty of gross enormities, who 
 yet professed to believe the bible to be the word of 
 God ; I, for a long time, thought that infidels were 
 as likely to be governed by virtuous principles as 
 Christians were; the vicious lives of some preten- 
 ders to Christianity in some measure tended to 
 confirm me in this erroneous conclusion. I wasstill 
 more confirmed in this opinion by the plausible 
 reasoning in some, infidel writers, who, as you 
 know, talk much about moral rectitude, the eter- 
 nal rule of right, moral obligation, moral sense, &:c. 
 he. Lord Shaftesbury goes very far on this head, 
 He asserts that vice as much disorders the mind 
 as disease does the body ; which, no doubt, is true. 
 He is also right in asserting, that virtue is moral 
 beauty^ and vice moral deformitv. But bis Lord- 
 E2 
 
54 
 
 sllip goos much faruier ; he, like an aneient s<&t* 
 of heretics, and many modefn mystics, says a 
 great deal about loving God and virtue purely for 
 their own sakes, without any regard to future re- 
 wards and punishments ; that to do good actions in 
 hopes of being rewarded is mercenary ; and that 
 persons influenced by such motives are endeavour- 
 ing to overreach the Deity, by purchasing eternal 
 happiness with a short life of virtue. He insinu- 
 ates that the old saints, who had respect to the 
 recompence of reward, were cunning people, and 
 only good from the fear of hell and the hope of 
 heaven. How much is this like the Devil's ob- 
 jection ? Job does not serve God for nought. In 
 another place his Lordship asserts that there is no 
 more rectitude, piety, or sanctity in a creaturethus 
 reformed, than there is meekness or gentleness 
 in a tyger strongly chained, or innocence and so- 
 briety in a monkey under the discipline of the 
 whip. 
 
 If the rewards proposed to christians had beeh 
 like those promised by Mahomet to his followers, 
 sensual and voluptuous ; his Lordship would have 
 had some reason to object to their being proposed 
 as incentives to virtue ; but the idea given us in 
 the New Testament of the happiness in a future 
 state is noble and sublime. It is represented as 
 " a state of consummate holiness, goodness, and 
 M purity, where we shall arrive to the true perfec- 
 u tion of our natures ; a state into which nothing 
 u shall enter that dejileth ; where the spirits 
 " of the just are made perfect, and even their bo- 
 " dies shall be refined to a wonderful degree ; 
 c * where tbe^ shall be associated to the glorious- 
 
* general assembly of holy and happy souls, and 
 a to the most excellent part of God's creation, 
 " with whom they shall cultivate an eternal friend- 
 " ship and harmony ; and, which is chiefly to be 
 u considered, when they shall be admitted to the 
 K immediate presence of the Deity, and shall be 
 " transformed as far as they are capable of it, into 
 " the divine likeness. Such is the happiness the 
 
 * gospel setteth before us, and which furnisheth 
 " a motive fitted to work upon the worthiest 
 11 minds. And the being animated with the hopes 
 u of such a reward hath nothing mean or mercen- 
 " ary in it, but rather is an argument of a great 
 " and noble soul." 
 
 As to the fear of punishment, his Lordship, al- 
 though inconsistently with what he in other places 
 asserts, (in vol. ii. page 273 of his Characteristics,) 
 says, that although fear is allowed to be ever so 
 low or base ; u yet, religion being a discipline, and 
 ** progress of the soul towards perfection, the mo- 
 " tive of the reward and punishment is primary, 
 u . and of the highest moment with us ; till being 
 " capable of more sublime instructions, we are let 
 11 from this servile state, to the glorious service of 
 " affection and love." 
 
 It may be also remarked, that after a wicked 
 man has been roused by the terrors of the Lord, if 
 he continue to obey the good motions of the Spi- 
 rit, God then gives him a clean heart, and renews a 
 right sfiirit within him. He then begins to love 
 God, and fears to offend him, fears to be separated 
 fn>m him and his people for ever. The fear fcf 
 
56 
 
 hell is scarcely remembered by a real Christian : 
 but having taken God for his portion, for his su- 
 preme happiness, he loves God because Godjirst 
 loved him, and his greatest fear is lest he should 
 do any thing to displease him. He can heartily 
 and truly say to God, 
 
 •Thou art my all ! 
 
 My strength in age ! my rise in low estate ! 
 My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth ! — My world ' 
 My light in darkness ! and my life in death ! 
 My boast through time, bliss through eternity. 
 
 But to return. Although I imbibed his Lord- 
 ship's refined notions of virtue, and for many 
 years, at times, talked much in his Lordship's 
 strain, I found those notions insufficient to pre- 
 serve me from falling into some vicious courses. 
 Nothing but the belief of the gospel could induce 
 me entirely to renounce the vices and follies of 
 the world, and to live godly, righteously and so- 
 berly in so ungodly and dissipated an age. The 
 motives held out by other systems are insufficient 
 to restrain the passions and evil propensities of 
 man. 
 
 Yet was I so attached to infidelity, and so blind- 
 ed by it as not to believe its evil tendency, until 
 for some time I had observed how much the mo- 
 rals of men, in every rank and station, had suffer- 
 ed, in a great part of Europe ; and that every kind 
 of vice was gaining ground in proportion as infi- 
 del books and principles were disseminated. I 
 then began to see that religion must before have 
 
p 
 
 had great influence on the morals of mankind, 
 and in that point of view must be very valuable in 
 society ; and this brought on more serious reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 I have for many years taken in several of the 
 Reviews of new publications, which are publish- 
 ed monthly, and I now began to read some of the 
 extracts which the Reviewers make from sermons 
 and other books in divinity. In those extracts I 
 frequently fownd weighty arguments in favour of 
 Christianity. About a year past in this way, dur- 
 ing which time I was rather in a careless sus- 
 pense, and yet I was more attentive to my words 
 and actions ; and by degrees I began to relish di- 
 vine subjects, and found that they elevated the 
 mind and filled the soul with sublime ideas. I now 
 began to read a little in the Bible, and took some 
 pleasure in it ; and I became more and more se- 
 rious and thoughtful. I had nearly finished a se- 
 cond volume of my life, which I intended soon 
 to, publish. I now read it over again, and crop- 
 ped out and put in again and again, as I thought 
 that I had treated serious subjects with too much 
 levity ; but after all the alterations I was not sa- 
 tisfied that in writing against fanaticism and en- 
 thusiasm, I had not said what might hurt some 
 weak christians, or what might be by freethinkers 
 brought against Christianity. I was now also a- 
 fraid, lest by ridiculing and laughing at enthusi- 
 asm and fanaticism, I should not only langh some 
 out of their enthusiasm, but of their religion also. 
 For these, and other reasons of the same nature, 
 I thought it best not to publish it, by which I have 
 
58 
 
 disappointed some of my laughter-loving acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 As soon as I had acquired a relish for religious 
 subjects, I wished to promote it in others, and 
 therefore began with Mrs. Lackington. Mrs. L. 
 is in her moral conduct one of the most perfect 
 beings I ever saw 
 
 Her reason for being so was, " because she al- 
 ways thought she ought to be as good as she 
 couid." She, like some other ladies, had studied 
 well, and very well understood the art of dressing 
 elegantly, but bad not the least knowledge of re- 
 ligion beyond that of being as good as she could ; 
 and by tiie bye it were to be wished that all ladies 
 even knew as much as that. As to going to 
 church, or private devotion, she could not see of 
 what use it could be to her. As she wanted for 
 nothing, she did not know what she should pray 
 for ; she had never done any person any harm ; 
 she had never slandered, backbitten, or ridiculed 
 any person, nor did she know that she had com- 
 mitted any other sin, and so she had no need of 
 praying for pardon. 
 
 In this state of affairs I sent to my late partners 
 for Seeker's Lectures on the Catechism, Gilpin's 
 Lectures on the same, Wilson's Sermons, 4 vols*, 
 and Gilpin's Sermons. These are very plain dis- 
 courses, easy to be understood, and calculated to 
 leave a very lasting impression on the mind. 
 T ^se excellent sermons Mrs. L. and I read to- 
 gether, and while they convinced her, that being 
 " as good as s.ie could," was perfectly right, and 
 of die utmost importance ; yet that there was 
 
something more in religion. They also made me 
 more in love with Christianity. I also sent for 
 Bishop Watson's Apoiogy for the Bible;, &c. in 
 Letters to T. Paine ; Bishop Porteus's Compen- 
 dium of the Evidences of Christianity, Butler's 
 Divine Analogy, Paley's Evidences of Christianity, 
 Pilgrim's Good Intent, Pascal's Thoughts, Addi- 
 son's Evidences of Christianity, Conibeare on Re- 
 vealed Religion, Madame de Genlis's Religion the 
 only Basis of Happiness and sound Philosophy, 
 with Observations on pretended modern Phii6so- 
 phers, 2 vols. Jenkin's Reasonableness and Cer- 
 tainty of Christianity, and several others of the 
 same tendency. Those excellent defences of re- 
 vealed religion I read through, during which I had 
 many struggles ; in the beginning I sometimes 
 cried out in the words of Thomas, " Lord I be- 
 lieve, help thou my unbelief :" before I had read 
 out those defences, I was not only almost, but alto- 
 gether persuaded to be a christian. And I hope 
 that I shall always endeavour to live as becometh 
 the gospel of Christ ; and, at times, I feel an 
 humble confidence that liod has, or will, pardon 
 all my past sins for the sake of Christ, and by his 
 grace enable me to persevere in well doing to the 
 end of this transitory life, and then admit me into 
 that state where the wonders of his grace, and the 
 mysteries of his providence shall be more clearly 
 understood. 
 
 I meant to inform you, that besides those books 
 already mentioned, I sent for Bishop Home's 
 Sermons, 4 vols. Carr's Sermons, Blair's Ser- 
 monsa 5 vols* Scott's Christian Life, 5 yoI^s. seve- 
 
60 
 
 jral learned and sensible expositions of the Bible ; 
 Calmet's Dictionary of the Bible, with the Frag- 
 ments ; Josephua's Works, Prideaux's Connec- 
 tions, 4 vols. Mrs. II . More's Works, and vari- 
 ous other excellent Works. For some time one 
 sermon was read on every Sunday, but soon Mrs. 
 L. began to like them, and then two or three were 
 read in the course of the week ; at last one at 
 least was read every day, and very often part of 
 some other book in divinity, as Mrs. L. said that 
 she preferred such kind of reading far beyond the 
 reading of novels. So that for some time we 
 liave read more books on divinity than on any 
 other subject ; and now Mrs. L. sees very im- 
 portant reasons for going to church, sacrament. 
 &c. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 Mveston) Feb. 20th, 1803. J. L." 
 
 I have now given the*whole of what I wrote to 
 Mr, D. and will add no more, but that 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
-SI 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 -.Brief time 
 
 Advances quick in tread; few hours and dark 
 Remain : those hours in frivolous employ 
 Waste not impertinent ; they ne'er return ! 
 Nor deem it dulness to stand still and pause 
 When dread Eternity hath claims sp nigh. 
 
 dr. dodb. 
 DEAR FltlEND, 
 
 THE following letters were sent to Tom 
 Thoughtless, an infidel, whose vices brought ruin 
 on himself, and also on his family. 
 " Sir, 
 After so many years, you will perhaps be sur- 
 prised to see my bad hand-writing again— -A 
 short time since, I found among my books a thin 
 folio MSS. in turning it over, I found copies of let- 
 ters which passed between you and me in the 
 years 1777 and 1778: I read them over with 
 much concern, as I found in some of mine to you 
 1 had endeavoured to weaken your belief in the 
 divine authority of the Scriptures, and some of 
 the blessed doctrines which they contain. My 
 knowledge is very circumscribed now, but at that 
 time it was much more so, as I was but very little 
 acquainted with men, and less with books, so that 
 it is not surprising that I should not be able to 
 detect the sophistical arguments, and other vile 
 arts of Chubb, Tyndal, Morgan, Collins, Shaftes- 
 bury, Voltaire, &c. Nor was it possible that I 
 should be able to detect the misrepresentations 
 F 
 
and wrong translations of many texts of scripture 
 and of passages from Greek and Latin authors, 
 that are to be found in their works. The next 
 twenty years I procured nearly every book in the 
 English 4anguage that favoured the cause of infi- 
 delity, and employed much of my spare time in 
 reading them, without reading the many able con- 
 futations that had been published to expose their 
 folly and wickedness ; and as I scarcely ever at- 
 tended any place of divine worship, it was scarce- 
 ly possible for me, under these circumstances, to 
 return to the path of truth. My return was also 
 rendered more difficult by my conduct in life, for 
 1 fell into some of the vices and follies of the age, 
 and vice never fails to drive us further from truth 
 and God. — If one who indulges himself in sinful 
 practices should, like Pilate, ask What is truth ? 
 he does not wait for an answer, but dissolves the 
 court of Conscience. 
 
 During those years I was also, as you know, 
 taken up with the concerns of a very large busi- 
 ness ; and, I am sorry to add, the great profits 
 that I derived from that business, rather tended 
 to drive from my thoughts those important con- 
 cerns with which they should, more or less, al- 
 ways be occupied. But I am able to say, that 
 although I got money very fast, particularly dur- 
 ing the two last years that I was in business, and 
 lived in an expensive style ; yet I never so fair 
 lost my reason as to suppose that riches, or a vain 
 parade, could ever make me happy. My leisure 
 hours were mostly spent in retirement at my 
 country -house. There I read those publication? 
 
63 
 
 that have been sent into the world by infidels. I 
 also there read poetry, plays, novels, voyages, tra- 
 vels, history, &c. &x. 
 
 As I was not infatuated by the love of riches, 
 or grandeur, it was with pleasure I first took part- 
 ners into my very profitable trade, on very easy 
 terms to them, and soon after that disposed of the 
 whole concern. It is now hear eight years since 
 I first retired to this place, nor have I been in 
 London since. I retained a share of my business 
 for about two years and an half after I came here, 
 and then made over the whole to my cousin, Mr, 
 George Lackington, and those gentlemen who 
 were my partners before. 
 
 In this retreat, I pursued the same course of 
 reading, until I was roused from my careless state 
 of mind, by observing the dreadful effects which 
 had succeeded the spreading of infidelity. The 
 more I reflected, the more was I filled with horror 
 at the moral depravity that I saw increasing 
 among all ranks. From those reflections 1 was 
 soon led to conclude, that the works which had 
 produced such baleful effects, must be fatally 
 wrong. By degrees I laid my freethinking books 
 aside, and began once more to study my Bible. 
 To assist me in that study I sent for several learn- 
 ed, sensible commentaries on the scriptures, and 
 also for many other books in divinity, including 
 the best answers that had been made to writers on 
 the side of infidelity ; so that I am now convinced 
 of their sophistry, misrepresentations, unfair quo- 
 tations, and other vile arts with which therr works 
 abound. 
 
1 had also again recourse to Young's Night 
 Thoughts. The 5th, 6th, 7th, and Sth Nights, 
 are replete with strong arguments against infidel- 
 ity, so that I can scarcely think it possible for the 
 most confirmed infidel, who is capable of under- r 
 standing the force of the arguments, and will read 
 them with proper attention, to help being convin- 
 ced of the truth of Christianity. But it is a me- 
 lancholy truth, that vice greatly tends to stupify 
 the mind, and often makes us blind to divine 
 truths; the late pious Bishop Home says, Mid- 
 " night overwhelmeth not the earth with a gross- 
 " er darkness, than that which is superinduced 
 " upon the heart of man, when it de parte th from 
 " God, and is turned away from its Maker. He 
 u that followeth not Christ walketh in darkness, 
 " because the light of life shineth no longer upon 
 " his tabernacle 1" 
 
 I have for seme years been acquainted with the 
 history of Greece, and with the various opinions 
 <- the Grecian philosophers, yet the new and 
 pleasing form in which it is dressed up in Bar- 
 thelemy's Travels of Anacharsis, induced me to 
 read it again lately, and by reading it I was con- 
 firmed in the belief of the truths contairied in the 
 gospel. The truly great and good men of 
 Greece, hundreds of years before Christ came, 
 discovered that man had departed from his origi- 
 nal state of purity ; that happiness in this life 
 was only to be attained by a virtuous conduct ; 
 they also taught the immortality of the soul, a 
 future judgment, and that the vicious should be 
 punished, and the virtuous rewarded in another 
 world. 
 
The shallow superficial pretended philosophers 
 of our day, affect to disbelieve the Christian doc- 
 trines. Many of the philosophers, and other 
 great men of Greece and Rome, who lived in the 
 time of the apostles and their immediate succes- 
 sors, who had every opportunity of inquiring into 
 the truth of what they asserted concerning Christ, 
 his miracles, death, resurrection, ascension, his 
 sending down the Holy Spirit, miraculous gifts, 
 Sec. Those philosophers, statesmen, courtiers. 
 Sec. were so thoroughly convinced of the truth of 
 what the apostles and followers of Christ asserted, 
 and of the doctrines they taught, that they openly 
 professed themselves to he christians, although 
 they well knew that by so doing they should be 
 •deprived of their riches, pomp and grandeur ; 
 they gladly embraced a life of poverty, ignominy 
 and suffering ; and at last shed their blood in the 
 glorious cause. 
 
 The scorching' fire, the racking" wheel, 
 The scourging rod, and bloody steel ; 
 
 Each ruthless instrument of pain 
 That t}a*aniiy could e'er devise, 
 
 Or hellish foes inflict, were vain, 
 To shake the courage of the skies ! 
 These hopes no earthly terrors could subdue ; 
 Consummate happiness appear'd in view. 
 
 COURT IE it. 
 
 Our freethinkers reject the miracles wrought 
 by Christ and his followers, and yet they would 
 have us believe far greater miracles ; as they 
 would persuade us, that a poor carpenter's son, 
 without books, ar even a place to Iay lJ hi§ head, 
 F2 
 
66 
 
 yet that this poor houseless man, and a few plain 
 iishermeiii were able, of themselves, to lay down 
 the most perfect system of morality that ever 
 was taught by mortals, and by so doing, exceed 
 all the most learned, the wisest and best lawgiv- 
 ers, and philosophers that ever the world hath 
 produced : and that those fishermen should give 
 up all their former prejudices and religious no- 
 tions, should quit all their friends and acquaint- 
 ance, and embrace a life of poverty, endure un- 
 speakable hardships, submit to the greatest suf- 
 ferings, imprisonments, and the most painful 
 deaths. And all this to propagate (according to 
 infidels) what they must know to be a falsehood. 
 
 So that infidels who charge Christians with be- - 
 ing credulous, are far more so themselves, they 
 being in re 'ity the most credulous beings in the 
 world. Moieover, infidels know that not a parti- 
 cle- of divisible matter can peiish, yet would they 
 have us believe that the soul, which is spiritual, 
 immaterial, indivisible, and immortal, can be an- 
 nihilated. 
 
 There is yet a greater absurdity which they 
 would have us believe, viz. that millions of effects 
 have taken place without a cause, or that second 
 causes may, and actually do exist without a first. 
 
 Now, when you learn that I read and seriously 
 reflect as above, I presume you will not be much 
 surprised that I should again return like the poor 
 prodigal, and acknowledge that I have sinned 
 against heaven. 
 
 I must also inform you, that I have seen the 
 most dreadful effects of infidelity, not only amongst 
 mankind in general? but also ambugst my ac- 
 
quaintancc ; some, who before they commence^ 
 freethinkers, were upright, honest, industrious 
 men, and as such were prosperous in their vari- 
 ous lines of business ; on turning freethinkers be- 
 came knaves and cheats, debauchees, &x. Seve- 
 ral of these you well know ; their vile conduct i*. 
 also well known to you, nor are you ignorant of 
 the ruin that they brought on themselves and fa- 
 milies. I thiak you also knew A. B. and his 
 brother ; they, it is true, retained their honest 
 principles ; but they learned very bad habits, took 
 to drinking and debauchery, which brought on 
 A. B. dreadful disorders ; he lived some years in. 
 a miserable state, and died about three years sincc^r 
 Jiis brother died a year before him. You also 
 Know that D. C. turned free-thinker near thirty 
 years since, shut up his shop, left his wife and 
 children to the parish, or to the wide world, sunk 
 down among the dregs of Society in London, and 
 about twenty years since was turned out of the' 
 Lock Hospital incurable ; when I was in T — n 
 last June, he was in the poor-house in a miserable 
 state of body, and, no doubt, of mind also. J. D. 
 whom, with other jovial companions, perhaps 
 you, when you was in London, saw, died soon af- 
 ter that time. T. x\. ran off, and left five poor 
 servant girls with child by him. I have never 
 since heard of him. I have not time to give you 
 account o£ others. 
 
 What horrid effects the principles of freethink- 
 ers have had on yourself, your wife, and brother, 
 I leave you to reflect on ; I must just remark, that 
 you and your brother might now have been gen- 
 tec! tradesmen, your wife might have been still 
 
<*8 
 
 alive and happy, and each of your families brought 
 up in the principles of religion and virtue. 
 
 It is well known, that thousands by becoming 
 unbelievers have forsaken their religious and mo- 
 ral habits, and become depraved and miserable in 
 both body and mind. Many have been reduced 
 to such an extremely wretched state as not to be 
 able to bear the miseries which they had brought 
 on themselves, and so have cut short that life 
 which was become a pest to society, and an intol- 
 erable burden to themselves. Others have taken 
 leave of this world under the gallows, and some 
 are in the road to it. I am, Sir, sorfy that 
 your conduct has for many years prevented me 
 from subscribing myself, 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 jUveslon, Feb. 25, 1.803. J. L " 
 
 Although I have transcribed so long a letter, 
 yet I must inform you, that soon after R. W. 
 became a free-thinker, his wife became not only a 
 free-thinker, but a free-actor. They lived at some 
 rate together for many years ; at last a separation 
 took place, but she proving with child while se- 
 parated from her husband, to hide her disgrace 
 took something to cause an abortion, which de- 
 stroyed her own life. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
69 ; 1 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 The Libertine his folly shall lament, 
 His blind extravagance that made him sell 
 Unfading- bliss, and everlasting- crowns, 
 Immortal transports, and celestial feasts, 
 For the short pleasure of a sordid sin, 
 For one fleet moment's despicable joy. 
 Too late, ail lost, forever lost, 
 Gives to his soul perpetual wounds. 
 
 E. ROW*, 
 
 Oh, Conscience, into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrors hast thou driven me ; out of which 
 
 I find ao way,, from deep to deeper plung'd. 
 
 milto:?. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I WILL now transcribe a copy of xny secondf 
 letter to Tom Thoughtless. 
 
 "sir, 
 
 I know not of any sight so shocking as that o£ 
 a poor self-condemned infidel on a sick bed. Whila 
 he suffers the most acute bodily pain, he has na 
 cordial to cheer his drooping spirits. No 1 his 
 mind labours under the most gloomy apprehen* 
 sions ! Those joyous companions with whom he 
 used to dissipate his time and substance, are so 
 far from giving him any comfort, that the sight of 
 any of them adds to his misery ; he is ready to 
 curse them in the bitterness of his soul, for hav- 
 ing been instrumental in perverting bim. The 
 weaker his body grows, the more strong does he 
 find that reasoning faculty within him, and which 
 he fancied would die with the body. How gladly 
 
70 
 
 would be exchange states with his dog that ticks 
 his burning hand, which in anguish he throws 
 over the side of his bed. When in health he de- 
 graded himself to a brute, and now he envies the 
 beast, and looks upon him as a superior being- 
 Annihilation, at which one'ssoul shudders, and 
 which nature abhors, would now be a happy re- 
 lief; But he is too late convinced that his soul can 
 never cease to exist. Young says, 
 
 Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die*. 
 
 While in health, and high spirits, with his scep- 
 tical companions about him, he co\ild laugh at re- 
 ligion, and at hell, and even pass his jokes on the 
 awful Majesty of heaven and earth ; and call his 
 existence in question : could represent Christ as 
 a fanatic, a lunatic, or as a downright impostor. 
 Tnis shocking delusion is now over, he now finds 
 that the eyes and hand of God are upon him, and 
 that he must soon be dragged to his awful tribu- 
 nal: Now he would give worlds to have an inter- 
 est in that divine Intercessor, whom he has so of- 
 ten laughed at and despised ; black despair now 
 seizes his mind, not a ray of hope can pierce 
 through the gloomy horrors of his soul ; pray he 
 cannot, nor has he a wish so to do : his hell is al- 
 ready begun, and he dreads a worse to come ; at 
 last he expires in tortures not to be described. 
 
 In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
 Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, 
 Runs to each avenue and shrieks for help; 
 But shrieks in vain !— How wishfully she looks 
 
 
71 
 
 On all she's leaving, now no longer her -a i 
 A little longer, yet a little longer, 
 Oh might she stay to wash away her stains 
 And fit her for her passage !— Mournful sight 1 
 Her very eyes weep blood ;— and every groan 
 She heaves is big with horror.— But the foe, 
 Like a staunch murd'rer steady to his purpose, 
 Pursues her close through every lane of life, 
 Nor misses once the track, but presses on : 
 Till forc'd at last to the tremendous verge, 
 At once she sinks to everlasting ruin ! 
 t 
 I did not intend to quote so much, yet I cannot 
 help transcribing the following narration from, 
 Dr. Young's Centaur not Fabulous, 
 
 c I am about to represent to you the last hours, 
 of a person of high birth and great parts. 
 
 ' The death-bed of a profligate is next in horror 
 to that abyss to which it leads. And he that has 
 seen it, has more than faith to confirm him in his 
 creed. I see it now, For who can forget it ? Are 
 there no flames and furies ? You know not then 
 what a guilty heart can feel. How dismal it is I 
 The two great enemies of soul and body, Sickness 
 and Sin sink and confound his friend ; silence and 
 darken the shocking scene. Sickness excludes 
 the light of heaven ; and sin its blessed hope. 
 Oh ! double darkness I 
 
 4 See, how he lies, a sad deserted outcast, on a 
 narrow isthmus, between time and eternity ! For 
 he is scarce alive. Lashed and overwhelmed on 
 one side, by the sense of sin ; on the other, by 
 the dread of punishment ! Beyond the reach of 
 human .help, and in despair of divine ! 
 
72 
 
 1 The ghost of bis murdered time, (for now no < 
 more is left) all stained with folly, and gashed 
 "with vice, haunts his distracted thought. Con- 
 science) which long had slept awakes. Its late 
 soft whispers are thunder in his ears ; and all 
 means of grace rejected, exploded, ridiculed, is 
 the bolt that strikes him dead. He lies a wretch 
 ed wreck of man on the shore of eternity, and 
 the next breath he draws blows him off into ruin. 
 
 6 The greatest profligate is, at least, a mom en 
 tary saint, at such a sight; for this is a sight that 
 plucks off the mask of folly, strips her of her gay 
 disguise, which glitters in the false lights of this 
 world's mummery, and makes her appear to be 
 folly, to the greatest fool. 
 
 4 Is not the death-bed of a profligate the most 
 natural and powerful antidote for the poison of I 
 his example ? Heals not the bruised scorpion the ! 
 -wound it gave ? Intends not Heaven, that struck j 
 •with the terrors of such an exit, we should pro- 
 Tide comfort for our own ? Would not he, who | 
 departs obdurate from it, continue adamant, j 
 though one rose from the dead ? For such a scene 
 partly draws aside the curtain that divides time 
 and futurity : and in some measure gives to I 
 sight that tremendous , of which we only had the ' 
 feeble report before. 
 
 'An agonizing profligate, though silent^ out- 
 preaches the most celebrated that the pulpit ever 
 knew : but if he speaks^ his word might instruct 
 the best instructors of mankind.— Mixt in the 
 •warm converse of life, we think with men \ on a 
 death-bed with God. 
 
f3 
 
 The sad evening before the death of that noble 
 youth, whose last hoiussuggested these thoughts* 
 I was with him. No one was there, but his phy- 
 sician, and an intimate whom he loved, and whom 
 he had ruined. At my coming in he said, You 
 and the physician are come too late — I have nei- 
 ther life nor hope You both aim at miracles— 
 you would raise the dead.' 
 
 1 I said, Heaven was merciful. — (He replied,) 
 
 4 Or I could not have been thus guilty. What 
 has it not done to bless and to save me ? I have 
 been too strong for Omnipotence ! I have pluck- 
 ed down ruin." 
 
 4 I said the Blessed Redeemer. — (On which 
 he said,) 
 
 4 Hold ! Hold ! You wound me ! — That is the 
 rock on which I split — I denied his name.' 
 
 4 Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take 
 any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as 
 far as sudden darts of pain would permit, till the 
 clock struck. Then he with vehemence cried 
 out, 
 
 4 Oh, Time ! Time ! It is fit thou shouldest 
 thus strike thy murderer to the heart. How art 
 thou fled for ever ! — A month ! Oh, for a single 
 week ! I ask not for years ; though an age were 
 too little for the much I have to do.* 
 
 4 On my saying, We could not do too much : 
 that Heaven was a blessed place ! — (He said) 
 
 4 So much the worse. 'Tis lost ! Heaven is to 
 me the severest part of hell.' 
 
 4 Soon after, I proposed prayer. (On which he 
 said 
 
 G 
 
74 
 
 'Pray you that can. I never prayed. — Nor 
 need L Is not heaven on my side already ! It 
 closes with my conscience. It's severest strokes 
 but second my own.' 
 
 ' His friend being much touched, even to tears, 
 at this (who could forbear ? I could not,) with a 
 most affectionate look, he said 
 
 ' Keep those tears for thyself. I have undone 
 thee. — Dose weep for me ? That's cruel. What 
 can pain me more ?" 
 
 c Here his friend, too much affected, would have 
 left him. But he said, "No, stay. Thou still 
 mayest hofie. — Therefore hear me. How madly 
 I have talked ? How madly thou hast listened 
 and believed ? But look on my present state, as 
 a full answer to thee and myself. This body is 
 all weakness and pain ; but my soul, as if stung 
 up by torment to greater strength and spirit, is 
 full powerful to reason ; full mighty to suffer. 
 And that which thus triumphs within the jaws 
 of mortality, is doubtless immortal. — And as lor a 
 Deity ) nothing less than an Almighty could inflict 
 what I feel.' 
 
 4 1 was about to speak, when he very passion- 
 ately said. 
 
 * No, no ! let me speak on. I have not long to 
 speak.— -My much injured friend ! my soul, as 
 my body, lies in ruins ; in scattered fragments 
 of broken thought ; remorse for the past throws 
 Tny thought on the future. Worse dread of the 
 future, strikes it back on the past. I turn, and 
 turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the 
 mountain that is on me, thou wouldst struggle 
 with the martyr for his stake ; and bless heaven 
 
for the flames : — that is not an everlasting flame 
 — that is Rot an unquenchable fire.' 
 
 < How were we struck ! Yet soon after, still 
 more ! With what an eye of distraction, with 
 what a face of despair, lie cried out, 
 
 6 My principles have poisoned my friend ; my 
 extravagance has beggared my boy : my unkind- 
 ness has murdered my wife ! And is there ano- 
 ther hell ? O thou blasphemed, yet most indul- 
 gent, Lord God ! Hell itself is a refuge, if it hides 
 me from thy frown/ 
 
 * Soon after his understanding failed. His ter- 
 rified imagination uttered horrors not to be repeal- 
 ed, or ever forgot. And ere the sun arose, the 
 gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, and 
 most wretched Altamont expired.' 
 
 Man, foolish man ! no more thy soul deceive ! 
 
 To die is but the surest way to live. broome- 
 
 I believe we should have many such dreadful 
 examples on record, were clergymen called to visit 
 the death-bed of infidels, as in this case ; but few 
 infidels will consent for that to be done ; for al- 
 though they may see that they have been fatally 
 misled ; yet a state of desperation will prevent 
 them from calling on God themselves, or request- 
 ing any one to do it for them. But to return to 
 myself. I must inform you, that itvas not by 
 merely reading of defences of Christianity, &c. 
 that I was enabled to discover its truth, and be- 
 lieve its doctrines. I was for some time in a 
 state of suspense, doubt and distraction. But 
 soon the pure precepts of the gospel began to have 
 
76 
 
 some influence on my life and conversation ; as I 
 perceived that the morality taught by Christ was 
 infallibly right, and I resolved to regulate my con- 
 duct according to his instructions, at least as much 
 as I could : I left oft* cursing and swearing, filthy 
 talking, &c. By caution, 1 soon was able, in a 
 great measure, to refrain from breaking out into 
 violent passions on small provocations: to be 
 short, I endeavoured to resist every evil propensi- 
 ty and disposition, and I prayed for divine assist- 
 ance to enable me so to do ; and soon ^ound my- 
 self much freed from evil words, actions, and 
 thoughts ; and found much satisfaction in my 
 mind on being able to conquer bad habits, 
 
 I had not long lived as much like a Christian as 
 I could, before I began to believe like one. The 
 words of Christ were verified in me. If saith 
 he, ye will do the will of God* ye shall kn§w of the 
 doctrines which I teach, whether they be ef God. 
 And I cannot help believing, that such as truly 
 and sincerely perform their duty towards God 
 and man, will, by some means or other, be led to 
 the knowledge and belief of ali such truths as are 
 absolutely necessary to be believed. But while 
 we are guilty of impiety towards Cod and of doing 
 to our neighbours as we would not that they 
 should do to us, it is no wonder if we should ever 
 be learning, and never be able to come to the know* 
 ledge of the truth. 
 
 By this time I can scarcely think it possible for 
 you not to see that the Christian has very great 
 advantages over an infidel. Infidelity tends to 
 degrade and sink the man to a brute. Christian- 
 ity dignifies and exalts its votaries to the skicw. 
 
17 
 -Man all immortal, hiwl 
 
 Hail, heav'n — All-lavish of strange gifts to man \ 
 
 Thine all the glory ; man's the boundless bliss: 
 
 Oh, may I breathe no longer than I breathe 
 
 My soul in praise to him, who gave my soul, 
 
 And all her infinite of prospect fair. dr. yor K c '. 
 
 Devotion elevates the soul to its native dignity 
 when renewed by divine grace it as naturally tends 
 to the great source of its happiness, as fire does 
 towards the sun, or as waters towards the sea. 
 While others are saying, Who will shew us any 
 good ? Who will shew us the way to be happy t 
 The Christian says, Lift up thou the light of thy 
 countenance ufwn me. You know where it is also 
 said, that God will keefi him in perfect peace whose 
 mind is stayed upon him. In all these changes 
 and troubles of this mortal stale, he has a divine 
 cordial to refresh and cheer his spirits when weak 
 and faint ; even death itself cannot terrify him 
 who stedfastly believes in him who is the resurrec- 
 tion and the life. No one ever heard of a christian 
 that was troubled, or terrified in his conscience 
 when he came to die, for having been a christian ; 
 but on the contrary, tens of thousands have in 
 their last hours, set their seal to the truth of its 
 divine doctrines, and have quitted this life in cer- 
 tain hope and joyful expectation of a blessed immor- 
 tality. 
 
 The ehamber where the good man meets his fate 
 Is privileged beyond the common walk 
 Of virtuous life, quite, in the verge of heaven, 
 G2 
 
73 
 
 Before I bid you farewell for ever, I beg you t M 
 excuse my giving you the trouble of reading two 
 such long letters, as I could not rest satisfied in 
 my mind, if I had not informed you of the altera- 
 tion that has taken place in my sentiments, and 
 of course in my life. I hope that ytu also will 
 see what a dreadful delusion you have for so ma- 
 ny vears been under. Should that not be the 
 case, I would wish you to remember that a 
 christian has greatly the advantage of you. Were 
 it possible for him to be in a delusion, it must be a 
 happy delusion that affords such sources of com- 
 fort in this state of existence, and even in the hour 
 of death. And in case there should be no future 
 state, you will not be able to laugh at him. But 
 should the infidel be in a delusion ! The dye, the 
 fatal dye will then be cast, and all will be lost 
 for ever I 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 J. L," 
 Jlvesto?i, Feb. 27, 1803 
 
 Although I have transcribed this very long let- 
 ter, yet I must inform you, that the person to 
 whom this, and the preceding one were wrote, 
 leads so bad a life, that I have but small hopes 
 that they will make any lasting impression on him. 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
79 
 
 LETTER XIIL 
 
 -■■ i " Those dreadful dangers pa6t, 
 
 " Knowledge will dawn and bless the mind at last." 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 NOT many miles from this place lives nay old 
 friend Dick Thrifty, who was introduced to you 
 in a former letter. I lately paid him a visit, and 
 soon suspected that some alteration had taken 
 place in Dick's sentiments from the change which 
 I perceived in his conduct. I informed you that 
 after Dick commenced freethinker, he was not 
 always able to resist the temptations of immodest 
 women. At this interview I remarked that he 
 was disgusted with a genteel dressed man for ha- 
 ving talked loosely in the absence of the ladies ; 
 he repeated the two well known lines of Pope 
 
 Immodest words admit of no defence, 
 For want of decency is want of sense. 
 
 I also observed that he was displeased with ano- 
 ther of the company for speaking disrespectfully 
 of the clergy in general. " Whenever I hear (said 
 Dick) any person vilify the clergy as a body, I 
 am obliged to conclude that he is not only an en- 
 emy to religion, but also a foe to morality, and of 
 course a very great enemy to society. I think it 
 is Addison who says, That such as are prejudiced 
 against the names religion, church, priest, and 
 the like, should consider the clergy as so many 
 philosophers, the churches as schools, and their 
 
8Q 
 
 sermons as lectures, for the reformation and im- 
 provement of their audience. How would the 
 heart of Socrates or Tully have rejoiced, had they 
 lived in a nation where the law had made provi- 
 sion for philosophers to read lectures of morality 
 and theology, every seventh day, in several schools 
 erected at the public charge, through the whole 
 country ; at which lectures, all ranks and sexes, 
 without distinction, were obliged to be present 
 for their general improvement. And what wick- 
 ed wretches would they think those men who 
 should endeavour to defeat the purpose of so di- 
 vine an institution \ u 
 
 I was also glad to find that Dick was a great 
 encourage r of Sunday-schools, and also of day- 
 schools for the poor who are unable to pay for 
 their children*s schooling. He informed me that 
 some gentlemen of his neighborhood were averse 
 to such schools, merely because they wished not 
 to subscribe a trifle towards their support : and 
 yet, said he, those gentlemen think themselves 
 christians ! 
 
 It perhaps may appear rather odd, but I re- 
 member that, many years since, Dick, although a 
 freethinker, never liked to hear thoughtless young 
 men speak against religion, but would even take 
 pains to convince them that they were ignorant of 
 what they were finding fault with ; that they were 
 enemies to religion because it condemned them 
 for their irregularities. He would even tell them 
 that they were only planting thorns in their sick 
 or death-beds, I even recollect that when a youpg 
 man was once arguing against the being of the 
 Deity, he lent him Knight on the Being and 
 
«1 
 
 Attributes of God, and very seriously advised him 
 to rend it with attention ; and this too at a time 
 when he was Tery sceptical himself: But I 
 strongly suspect that Dick is quite altered in his 
 principles. 
 
 Formerly, Dick used to assert that all the pre* 
 cepts of morality contained in the gospel were 
 taught by the heathen philosophers. But now he 
 is convinced of his mistake, and he has discovered 
 that their best precepts were derived from divine 
 revelation, partly through the Jews who were 
 scattered amongst all nations, and partly from the 
 Old Testament after it was translated into Greek. 
 Josephus has fully proved this point. 
 
 Formerly, Dick thought that Socrates was a 
 more exalted personage than Christ ; now he as» 
 serts, that Christ was a far superior character to 
 Socrates, and that the morality which he taught 
 is the most pure, and best calculated to make 
 mankind happy — that a nation of real christians 
 would be a heaven upon earth. 
 
 Some years since, Dick would talk much about 
 the charming liberty of thinking freely, enjoyed 
 by such as shake off the fetters which priests had 
 riveted on mankind ; now he does not scruple to 
 acknowledge that, upon the whole, he thinks a 
 real christian has greatly the advantage, even in 
 this life* of the unbeliever. I can, (said he to a 
 friend one day) almost believe Bishop Home's 
 description of the Christian religion. He then 
 took down a volume of the good Bishop's ser- 
 mons, and read the following passage ? 
 
§2 N 
 
 i A religion cheerful in itself, and making those 
 1 cheerful who are partakers of it ; cheerful in 
 4 trouble ; cheerful out of trouble ;. cheerful while 
 k they live ; cheerful when they die ; cheerful in 
 4 using well the blessings of this life ; cheerful in 
 1 expecting the blessings of the next ; cheerful 
 i through pain, while they believe in the great 
 
 * and precious promises made to them ; cheerful 
 c through hope, which depends on their accom- 
 4 plishment ; cheerful through charity, in doing 
 
 * acts of mercy and loving kindness^till they come 
 
 * to that land of plenty, where none shall want ; 
 i to those regions of joy from whence sorrow T shall 
 4 be for ever excluded/ 
 
 While my friend Dick was reading the above 
 passage, he seemed animated ; he was much 
 more so while I read the following lines from Dr. 
 Young's Night Thoughts. 
 
 Religion's all. Descending from the skies 
 
 To wretched man — 
 
 Religion ; Providence ; an after- state ! 
 Here is firm footing ; here is solid rock ; 
 This can support us ; all is sea besides, 
 Sinks under us ; bestorms and then devours. 
 His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
 And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 
 
 Believe, and shew the reason of a man ; 
 Believe, and taste the pleasure of a god ; 
 Believe, and look with pleasure on the tomb. 
 
 Dick is rather shy in discovering what his real 
 sentiments now are ; but from what I have no- 
 ticed I have reason to think that he is really con- 
 vinced of his errors ; and that if he already is not 
 a christian, he wishes to become one. But when 
 
♦ 83 
 
 a person has once gone such lengths in infidelity 
 as Dick had, it is hard to return to that pure, open 
 simplicity which the gospel requires of such as 
 profess to believe its doctrines. As Dick's con- 
 versation is different from what it used to be, so 
 also is his conduct, as I remarked in many in- 
 stances. His compassion for the labouring poor 
 is much increased, and he does much good among 
 them ; he not only relieves such as apply to him, 
 but he inquires after objects of distress ; and, at 
 the same time, he is careful not to encourage 
 idleness, drunkenness, Sec. 
 
 Mr. D. and Mr. C. were near neighbours to 
 each other, and acquaintances of Dick ; these 
 Neighbours had conceived great animosity to each 
 other ; Dick set about reconciling them. One 
 day, when Mr. D. was speaking very ill-naturedly 
 of Mr. C. Dick desired him not to bear Mr. C. 
 so much ill-will, for, said he, I have heard Mr. 
 C speak very well of you. This softened Mr. 
 D. a good deal. At another time, Mr. C. was 
 "very violent in his conversation against Mr. D. 
 Dick advised him to forget and forgive, as he 
 was persuaded Mr. D. had done ; lie speaks 
 khidly of you, and is, I believe, sorry that trifles 
 should so long have interrupted good neighbour- 
 hood between you and him. By this method 
 Dick in a short time made them better friends 
 than they had ever been before. Blessed is the 
 ficace-maker, saith Christ. Dick is still happy if 
 he can reconcile any of his acquaintance to each 
 other ; but he now will not effect it by saying 
 what is not strictly true, as he did in the above 
 
S4 
 
 instances ; he seems to know that a man siust 
 mt lie eren for God. 
 
 I am, 
 Dear friend, Yours. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 The virtues grow on immortality; 
 
 That Root destroy'dthey wither and expire. 
 
 A Deity belied 'd will nought avail ; 
 
 Rewards and punishments make God ador'd : # 
 
 And hopes and fears give conscience all her pow'r. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 'IN giving you my further observations on 
 Dick Thrifty, I will continue to set them down as 
 nearly as I can, as they occurred. 
 
 I found him one morning with Law's Serious 
 Call to a Holy Life, and Taylor's Holy Living 
 and Holy Dying, by his side ; in his hand was 
 the Whole Duty of Man. What ! a philosopher 
 1 reading the " Whole Duty of Man V* Had you 
 been reading Puffendorf's Law of Nature, I 
 should not have wondered at it. The reply was, 
 " Let me tell you it is worth any philosopher's 
 reading ; from what I have read of it, I think it 
 an excellent work/' I confessed that I had read 
 but a small part of it ; but from what I had read 
 it appeared to me to be a very good work ; I had 
 sold thousands of tjiat book? and scarce knew of 
 
85 
 
 any work that ever had so great and lasting a 
 sale- it being a century and a half since it was 
 first published : the other works of the same au- 
 thor have also had a great sale : his Causes of the 
 Decay of Christian Piety should he read more 
 than it is : his Ladies' Calling, and his Gentle- 
 man's Galling, are now much neglected, as most 
 of our ladies and gentlemen have calling* of a ve- 
 ry different nature, or rather, as it appears, have 
 no calling at all. 
 
 Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, he said, was 
 also an excellent work. I also joined in its praise. 
 Law, in his Serious Call, he thought, hvfi some 
 of the most convincing arguments he ever met 
 with, and his characters were master-pieces of the 
 kind. I said that I had lately read it Wth great 
 pleasure, and I hoped with some profit." 
 
 But, Dick, have you discarded the old heathen 
 moralists ? 
 
 "No, I believe I shall sometimes dip into them 
 as long as I live ; I think, with you, that I have 
 derived much benefit from reading them." 
 
 I told him, while I was reading Seneca, Plu- 
 tarch, Epictetus, fcc. I had often fancied myself 
 a great philosopher, and conceited that my passi- 
 ons were subdued. 
 
 " Why that is just my case, and perhapsan hour 
 after I have indulged those fine ideas, I suffer an 
 old woman, or a servant to disturb, or even 
 destroy my fine philosophical tranquility ; and 
 then I am ashamed to find myself such a poor 
 weak mortal." 
 
 " Virtue is kept alive by oare and toil." 
 H 
 
36 
 
 Dick continued, " I now have often recourse to, 
 divines ; they write like men having authority, 
 and they adduce stronger motives for us to subdue 
 or regulate our passions and tempers ; and I think 
 they have much more influence on my conduct 
 than the mere reasoning of the ancient philoso- 
 phers. You know that formerly I read pretty 
 much divinity, and although the intimacy was 
 long broken off, by my having contracted an aver- 
 sion to those pious writers, because they threaten-? 
 ed freethinkers with hell ; yet we are become 
 good friends again : so that whenever I look into 
 any of those books, it seems like calling on an old 
 sensible acquaintance that I had not seen for ma- 
 ny years ; I am much pleased while conversing 
 on old subjects ; and, though I. might not approve 
 of every thing he says, yet the conversation upon 
 the whole maybe pleasing and improving." 
 
 Dick, said I, you used to be open and above dis- 
 guise ; I have freely confessed to you, that I have 
 sincerely repented of my long apestacy from, the 
 truth, and humbly hope for pardon and 'salvation 
 through that Saviour whom you and I despised : 
 tell me, are not you also convinced of your error? 
 Are you not in heart a christian ? 
 
 <c An honest Deist, where the gospel shines*- 
 " Matur'd to nobler in the christian ends." 
 
 " I confess," he replied, " that my sentiment, 
 are much altered, as you must have perceived. 
 You and I have often read the same books, and 
 made the same observations en men afld things ; 
 
so that you will not be much surprised if I have 
 been affected pretty much like yourself* by re- 
 marking the same events. I shall carry my re- 
 marks further back than you have done. You 
 Know that before the French revolution took place 
 I had some young men and boys in my house as 
 apprentices and shopmen. I have reason to think 
 that those young people were not ignorant of my 
 sentiments ; for as they dined with me and my 
 friends, they must have, at times, heard free con- 
 versations, jokes on priests, ficc. if not worse : 
 for although I was not fond of propagating infi- 
 delity, yet from my friends, and perhaps from 
 myself also, they must know that I paid no atten- 
 tion to religion. It is also likely that they read 
 my free-thinking books. They also knew that I 
 did not attend at any place irf worship, nor did I re- 
 quire them to do it ; that my Whole family spent 
 Sundays in idle amusements. Those young men 
 left me, and begart the world without any sense 
 of religion. Several of them, I believe", were 
 free-thinkers ; nearly the whole of them dissipa- 
 ted the whole of what property they had of their 
 own, got into debt, and became bankrupts. But 
 though I saw the effects of infidelity in 'them, I 
 was not properly affected by it. But since the 
 French revolution, when I perceived the sad ef- 
 fects produced by the spreading of infidelity I be- 
 gan to think more seriously on the consequen- 
 ces ; but I was not fully acquainted with the ex- 
 tent of its mischief, until I came into the country 
 to live, and found that it had infected all ranks, 
 from the castle to the cottage. 
 
 " A "nsw world rises and new mariners reign." 
 
83 
 
 " Gentlemen's servants, having been taught in- 
 fidelity in London, and while waiting at table, have 
 spread the contagion throughout the region of 
 their acquaintance. Paine's Age of Reason has 
 been handed from cottage to cottage. The honest 
 and industrious part of the poor, amidst their 
 porerty and afflictions, used to derive great con- 
 solation from the hopes of a better world to 
 come ; but Paine and Co. have cjepiived them of 
 their only comfort and support, and left them 
 discontented with their station, and ready for mis- 
 chief. Many that used to be constant at chinch 
 on Sundays, now go to the ale-house, where they 
 encourage one another in irreiigion and vice.—* 
 Many that used to read their bibles in order to 
 become Letter husbands, better fathers, better 
 subjects, better neighbours, he. now, if they look 
 into it at all, it is only to endeavour to turn it into 
 ridicule. 
 
 " The hope of heaven, and the fear of hell, I 
 now 7 am fully convinced certainly had very ^reat 
 influence on the conduct of thousands, who now 
 laugh at any talk of the day of judgment, heaven 
 and hell ; and having got rid of those restraints* 
 they indulge themselves in one vice after another, 
 until no wickedness is too bad for them to com- 
 mit." 
 
 In proof of what you assert, (I replied) permit 
 me to inform you, that about two years since I 
 made an excursion into the West of England ; 
 happening to spend a tew hours in a large town 
 through which I passed, I called on a very re- 
 spectable tradesman, an old acquaintance of mine. 
 While we were conversing in his shop on the 
 
89 
 
 it prevalence of infidelity and it* immoral ten- 
 dency, one of his neighbours, a very decent look- 
 ing man eame in, who, I learnt in the course of 
 conversation, had lately been a very wicked infidel 
 and a rebel, but had repented of Ids infidelity, and 
 was become a loyal subject and a pious christian. 
 
 He informed us, that while he lived in London, 
 (•which was about four or five years before this 
 conversation) he worked in a shop with- twelve 
 other men, eleven of whom and himself were in- 
 fidels, and that the whole of them were rebels. To 
 such a height of wickedness and infatuation had 
 these poor wretches arrived, that six of them set 
 out one day with a fixed determination to kill— 
 a certain person. In the Strand, one of the most 
 desperate of these execrable villains was taken so 
 very ill as to be able to go no further ; but this did 
 not deter the others, but on they went to perpe- 
 trate the dreadful deed, which they would have 
 effected, had not an uncommon circumstance ta- 
 ken place which prevented the horrid crime from 
 being committed. This circumstance I cannot 
 relate, as the mentioning it would discover the 
 person they intended to murder. 
 
 I also observed, that the doctrine of rev/aids and 
 punishments were taught in a confused and im- 
 perfect manner by the old heathens , that the be* 
 lief of those doctrines, and the fear of the aveng- 
 ing gods, had very great influence on the moral 
 conduct of mankind in general: and it is worth 
 remarking that Juvenal, in his second satire, im- 
 putes the shocking and detestable crimes which 
 disgraced Rome in his days to the infidel notions 
 that then prevailed among them. 
 H.2 
 
**. Though the system of Paganism is just«y 
 condemned by reason and scripture, yet it assu- 
 med, as true, several principles of the first im- 
 portance to the preservation of public manners ; 
 such as a persuasion of invisible power, of the fol- 
 ly of incurring the divine vengeance for the attain- 
 ment of any present advantage ; and the divine 
 approbation of virtue : so that, strictly speaking, 
 it was the mixture of truth in it which gave it all 
 its utility ; which is well stated by the great and 
 judicious Hooker, in treating on this subject. 
 1 Seeing therefore it doth thus appear,' says that 
 venerable author, ' that the safety of all states de- 
 pendeth upon religion ; that religion unfeigned- 
 ly loved perfecteth man's abilities unto all kinds of 
 various services in the commonwealth ; that 
 man's desire is, in general, to hold no religion 
 but the true ; and whatever good effects do grow 
 out of their religion, who embrace, instead of the 
 feme, a false, the roots thereof are certain parts 
 of the light of truth, intermingled with the dark- 
 ness of error ; because no religion but one can 
 wholly and only consist of truths, we have reason 
 to think that all true virtues are to honor true re* 
 tigion as their parent, and all well-ordered com- 
 monweals love her as their chiefest stay,"— Ec- 
 cles. vol.xiii. 5. 
 
 That arch infidel Voltaire, who has been one of 
 the greatest enemies to the cause of religion, in 
 his Philosopher's Dictionary, under the word 
 atheism, says, " But with submission to Plu- 
 tarch, nothing can be more evident, than that it 
 was better for the Greeks to stand in awe of Ceres, 
 Neptune, and Jupiter? than to be under no manner 
 
of awe ; the sacredness of oaths is manifest and 
 necessary ; and they that hold that perjury will 
 be punished, are certainly more to be trusted than 
 those who think a false oath will be attended with 
 no ill consequences. It is beyond all question, 
 that in a policed city, even a bad religion is better 
 than none/ — The Senataof Rome, which almost 
 totally consisted of Atheists, both in theory and 
 practice, believing neither in providence nor a 
 future state. It was a meeting of philosophers, 
 of votaries of pleasure and ambition ; all very dan- 
 gerous sets of men, and who, accordingly, over- 
 turned the republic. " 
 
 4 1 would not willingly lie at the mercy of a» 
 atheistical pvince, who might think it his interest 
 to have mc pounded in a mortar : I am certain it 
 would be my fate. And were I a sovereign, I 
 would not have about me any atheistical courtiers, 
 whose interest it might be to poison me, as then I 
 must every clay be taking alexipharmics ; so ne- 
 cessary is it both for princes and people, that their 
 minds be thoroughly imbued with an idea of a 
 Supreme Being, the Creator, Avenger, and Re- 
 warder. " 
 
 This subject is now no longer to be disputed at 
 all, as we have seen such dreadful effects of infi- 
 delity since it has been propagated among the 
 people at large. 
 
 " I confess, (said Dick) that I was long in an 
 error on this head. I, like many other freethink- 
 ers, on observing that fraud and other vices were 
 committed by such as passed for Christians ; and 
 that among those who were sceptics, I knew sev- 
 
92 
 
 eral whom I thought honest men, I too re^ 
 concluded, that the belief or disbelief of a future 
 state had but little or no influence on society, nor 
 should I ever have been convinced of my errors 
 but for the manners of the times. The vile prac- 
 tices of some who call themselves christians may 
 edsiiy be accounted for ; a great number of those 
 have scarce any more religion than horses ; they 
 live and die as ignorant and stupid with regard to 
 divine subjects as hogs. So that in fact they can- 
 not be said to believe of disbelieve in Christianity, 
 although they are denominated christians. I have 
 reason to believe that there are thousands in Eng- 
 land who never were in any place of divine wor- 
 ship in the whole course of their lives ; and many 
 of those that do by chance go into a church, know 
 no more of the matter than such do as never go 
 at all. And there is great reason to think that 
 many who pass for Christians are atheists in prin- 
 ciples, as well as practical knaves. A certain 
 author. says, a I know there are in notion and 
 principle, as well as in practice, who think ail 
 honesty as well-as religion, a mere cheat ; and by 
 a very consistent conduct, reasoning, have re- 
 solved deliberately to do whatsoever by power or 
 art they are able for their private advantage. Such 
 as these never open themselves in friendship to 
 others. They have no such passion for truth or 
 love of mankind. They have no quarrel with 
 religion or morals ; they know what use to make 
 of them both upon occasion. If ever they dis- 
 cover their principles it is only at unawares, they 
 are sure to preach up honesty* and go to church."' 
 
SL3 
 
 " I was lately told of a grocer, who, on a Sun- 
 day evening used to call his shopman, and ad- 
 dress hi in in the following manner : " John, have 
 you put the dried berries with the currants ." 
 u Yes, Sir." " Have you put the ash leaves with 
 the tea V* " Yes, Sir." " Have you put the sand 
 with the moist sugar?" u Yes, Sir," "Then, 
 John, come to prayer*'? 
 
 I will also give you one instance of this kind 
 that fell within my own observation. About twelve 
 months alter 1 first became acquainted with a par- 
 ty of infidels, there was one very young man in- 
 troduced who was an advocate for atheism, and 
 yet he was a student, on charity, in a dissenting 
 academy ; and used to boast of the deceptions 
 which he made use of to deceive the heads of the 
 seminary. He informed us, that at the stated 
 time of prayer, when they all kneeled down 
 round the room, with their faces towards the 
 wall, he used to conceal a card in his hand, on 
 which he had a composed form set down in short- 
 hand. So that when it came to his turn to pray 
 extemporally, he read his card : and he was 
 thought to possess a fine gift in prayer. This 
 young infidel also boasted of the deceptions which 
 he put on others ; he would pretend to piety 
 amoog religious people, ard borrow books and 
 sell them. Not long after this he deceived and 
 tcok in his infidel friend, who introduced him to 
 the party. He was for some reason or other at 
 last discharged from the academy; had that 
 not been the case, some congregation might have 
 been deceived by his abilities and pretensions to 
 pisty, and have had an atheist for their pastor* 
 
I have no doubt but this class of unbelievc 
 mu en larger than is imagined* Know ye not; say 
 Paul to the Corinthians, that the unrighteous shat 
 not inherit the kingdom of God ; be not deceivec 
 neither fornicators, nor adulterers, nor drunkards 
 nor thieves, nor covetous, ndr revikrs, nor extor 
 doners, shall inherit the kingdom. And yet hov 
 many are there to be found who deliberately com 
 init those sins. How is it possible for one to sup 
 pose that such can believe the above text, and at 
 hundred others of the same import. We know 
 that a person may be precipitated into grievou-i 
 sins, and yet may be called a believer, although i 
 weak one ; but is it possible for a person to live 
 year after year, in the deliberate commission ol 
 any great known sin, and really believe that Qoa 
 ha* a/i/iointed a day in which he will judge the world 
 in righteoTesness, and reward every man according 
 to the deeds done in the bbdy^ whether they have been 
 good or bad. Indeed the scriptures rank such 
 among unbelievers : and freethinkers should not 
 rank them as belie vers* but among their own class. 
 In Gilpin's 48th sermon, vol. 2. is the following 
 passage: "I address myself next to those who 
 pretend to believe the gospel, and yet neglect its 
 precepts. 
 
 " There are many such christians in the world 
 •^Christians, who go generally to church — who 
 appear occasionally at the sacrament— and who 
 talk of the bible as the best'book in the world ; but 
 yet, in fact, lead their lives as much at variance 
 with it, as if it had never been intended as a rule 
 of conduct. They are as much given up to the 
 
95 
 
 business and pleasures, and vanities of life, as 
 much led away by the fashions and dissipated 
 manners which they see around them, as if they 
 believed this world was the only place where they 
 expected happiness. And yet they profess to be- 
 lieve in a religion that will reward all who obey it 5 
 and punish all who disobey it. 
 
 u If you really believe all this, the pleasures of 
 this w r orld will appear of little value to you, com* 
 pared with the happiness of the next 5 and the 
 severest restraints of religion, instead pi being 
 thought hardships, will be received with cheerful- 
 ness. Is this the case ? If you are a true be- 
 liever, the answer is plain ; yet this comraciictioa 
 between your belief and your practice, makes it, 
 I fear, too plain, thv\ is not the case. The matter 
 then resolves itself into this, that you are in the 
 situation with the infidel, only to his disbelief you 
 add hypocrisy. 
 
 " If you are under the influence of self-deceit, 
 and imagine you are more sincere in your belief 
 of these things than you really are, put your sin- 
 cerity to the test ; try yourself by an easy exper- 
 iment. You are assured, that if you take proper 
 steps, you may get possession of a considerable 
 fortune. If you really believe this information, 
 how will you act ? Will you not take every meth- 
 od in your power that leads to the possession of 
 it 1 Our blessed Saviour has placed this matter 
 in the same light. If a man believed there was 
 a treasure in a field, would he not sell all he luid 
 ^nd buy the field ? In the affairs of this work], you 
 judge of a man's being sine«#e in his baHef, by 
 
96 
 
 the sincerity of his practice. If he he under the 
 influence of faith in common life, he never fails toi 
 shew his faith by its influence on his actions. 
 
 It is exactly the same in religion. You pretend 
 to believe that you shall give an account hereafter 
 of your actions— that there is a heaven to reward, 
 and a hell to punish them, as they are good or 
 bad. You say you believe all this : but still it does 
 not produce a christian life. Away with such 
 hypocritical pretences. Would any man leap 
 from a precipice if he really believed a bottomless 
 pit would receive him ? Those who pretend to no I 
 faith, and those who pretend to faith, but leave a : 
 holy life out of the question, are both infidels 
 alike." 
 
 Some of those ungodly pretenders to Christian- 
 ity are so very ignorant of its doctrines, as to think 
 that because Christ died for sinners (which is the 
 only part of the gospel they ever attended to) 
 God 'will, however wicked their lives may have 
 been, pardon them, provided they do but repent, 
 as they call it, on their death-bed. Old Baxter 
 tells us of a shocking wicked man whopersisted in 
 a very profligate way of life, because he was sure 
 that if he could but say three words, "God pardon 
 me," before he died, he was sure to be forgiven. 
 It seems he even forgot those three words, for 
 his horse leaping over a bridge with him, he said, 
 " Devil take all." I have conversed with ma- 
 ny who have much the same notion ; they do 
 not know that repentance is a change of heart and 
 life, but think it consists in a few expressions of 
 sgrrow, and calling God to pardon them for 
 
I 
 
 97 
 
 Christ's sake. ' Gilpin, in Iris excellent sermon on 
 Christ's promise to the thief on the cross, says, 
 11 I have seldom seen sickness draw on a change 
 of life. The sinner has generally returned, after 
 his recovery, to his old habits. AH therefore that 
 a minister of the gospel can say, is only this, that 
 Godhati no where promised in the covenant ofgrace y 
 forgiveness to any repentance, but what is followed 
 by a holy life ; and if wen are saved, after a course 
 of wickedness, on death-bed repentance, they are 
 not saved according to any know.) conditions of the 
 Gospel. Gilpin's Sermons, vol. ii. p. 122, 2<k 
 edition. . i 
 
 -Fatally he err= 
 
 Whose hope fore-runs repentance, and who presumes 
 
 That God will pardon when he's tir'd of sin, 
 
 And like a stale companion casts it off. 
 
 Oh ! arrogant, delusive, impious thought, 
 
 To meditate commodious truce with heaven, 
 
 When death's swift arrow smites him unprepar'd, 
 
 And that protracted moment never comes, 
 
 Or comes too late : Turn then, presumptuous man r 
 
 Turn to the sinner, 
 
 Who died X'eviling', there behold thy doom. 
 
 Cumberland's calvary. 
 
 I have also met with many who keep a shorter 
 account with God ; they mistake the means for 
 the end. When they can find time to goto church, 
 it is not with any view to obtain grace and strength 
 to enable them to forsake their bad practices; 
 they have not the least inclination to alter their 
 wicked course of life ; but think that by goin;* to 
 church and begging pardon, their old score is 
 I 
 
93 
 
 wiped off; if to going to church, they add the 
 reading a chapter or two in the bible, on Sunday, 
 they rest quite satisfied, and suppose their ac- 
 counts fully balanced. 
 
 To reckon any of these people among the be- 
 lievers of the gospel of Christ* is an abuse of 
 "words. But it is timo to conclude this long epb^ 
 tie. 
 
 Iain, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Youi's. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 * Consider man as mortal, all is dark, 
 " And wretched ; JZeason weeps at the survey. 5 ' 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 WHILE Dick and I were conversing after 
 dinner on the important objects mentioned in the 
 last chapter, we were astonished at the declara- 
 tion of a lady in company, who seriously and de- 
 liberately assured us, that she had often wished 
 her soul was mortal, that it might die with the 
 body ; that the idea of annihilation was so far from 
 being frightful to her, that it would afford her 
 very great satisfaction, if she could but be sure 
 that when she had paid the debt of nature, she 
 should no longer have any kind of conscious ex- 
 istence, as she thought it was now 
 
99 
 
 -" A serious thing to die ! My soul ! 
 
 " What a strange moment must it be, when near 
 *' Thy journey's end thou hast the gulf in view ! 
 u That awful gulf no mortal e'er repass'd 
 " To tell what's doing on the other side 1" 
 
 But if she was but sure of being annihilated, it 
 would take a weight off her spirits that sometimes 
 oppressed her much. 
 
 I dm well informed that this lady is very amia- 
 ble. She is about forty. During thirty years 
 which she lived with her father, she was a very 
 dutiful daughter ; the ten that she has been a 
 wife, she ever has been, and still is, 
 
 " Blest with temper, whose unclouded ray 
 "Can make to-morrow, cheerful as to-day j 
 *f 3^ie never answers till her husband cools, 
 " And if she rules him, never shews she rules. 
 u Charms by accepting, by submitting sways, 
 # Yet has her humour most when she obeys.* 
 
 Her life has been a life of innocence ; the con- 
 tinued ill-treatment which she for years received 
 from some of her relations, could never put her 
 out of temper, or cause her to utter an ill-natured 
 word ; or to be guilty of an unkind action. She 
 possesses an uncommonly sympathising, feeling 
 heart, is very kind and charitable to the poor. 
 
 That so charming and virtuous a lady as this 
 should wish that existence might terminate with 
 this short life, is, I believe, not a common cir- 
 cumstance. On our expressing our surprise, and 
 requesting to be made acquainted with her rea- 
 sons for so unnatural a wish; she said* that " sh« 
 
I Of 
 
 was not satisfied with herself, she thought her 
 disposition was not so piously disposed as she 
 found the Almighty required ; she had no desire 
 to go to church, and when she was there she was 
 not as devout as she should be. She seldom 
 prayed much in private. She did not know that 
 she had ever said or done any thing wrong. But 
 then she was ignorant of divine things, and felt an 
 indifference towards them ; and having doubt? on 
 her mind, rajher than run the hazard of being 
 eternally miserable, she had many times wished 
 to be annihilated." She said, these melancholy 
 thoughts were not lasting, she was in general 
 happy. Mrs. Kowe thus describes a state of 
 mind nearly similar. 
 
 -—Starts at the awful prospect of the deep, 
 St hi fears to explore the dark and unknown way, 
 Still backward shrinks and meditates delay ; 
 Spins out the time, and lingers in debate, 
 Displeas'd to try an unexperiene'd state. 
 
 If the righteous are scarcly saved, where shall the 
 sinner and the ungodly a/ifiedr ? And if so virtuous a 
 woman has very uneasy thoughts, as to her accept- 
 ance with God, what must, or rather, what ought 
 the generality of our fashionable ladies to feel. 
 
 Dick took up his favorite book the Night 
 Thoughts, and read to her the following lines; 
 
 O thou great Arbiter of life and death ! 
 Nature's immortal immaterial sun ! 
 Whose all prolific beam late call d me forth 
 From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay, 
 The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath 
 
101 
 
 The dust I tread on, high to bear my brow, 
 To drink the spirit of the golden Day, 
 And triumph in existence ; and couldst know 
 No motive, but my bliss ! and hast ordain'd 
 A rise in blessing-! with the Patriarch's joy, 
 Thy call I follow to the land unknown ; 
 I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust ; 
 Or life, or death, is equal ; neither weighs ; 
 All weighs in this— O let me live to thee. 
 
 "This, Madam, (continued Dick) is the only dis- 
 position that can possibly make us happy : the 
 good Doctor appears to have had that faith and 
 trust in (Sod, which every real christian should 
 have. In another plare, he says, 
 
 If sick of folly, I relent ; Christ writes 
 My name in heaven, with that inverted spear 
 (A spear deep dipt in blood) which pierc'd his side,, 
 Andopen'd there a font for all mankind 
 Who strive to combat crimes, to drink and live ; 
 Thh, only this, subdues the Fear of Heath. 
 
 The parents of this lady I find are called good 
 kind of people ; when they have no company at 
 home, they go to church once of a Sunday ; arc 
 kind, obliging neighbours, good to the poor, &c. 
 But it does not appear that xhey consider them- 
 selves possessed of an immortal part, which must 
 be happy or miserable to all eternity 
 
 They have, it seems, a Bible in their house, 
 carefully locked up. For the first ten years after 
 they were married, this bible was brought down 
 stairs once in a year^ or once in two years at far- 
 thest, to insert in the blank leaf the names of 
 their children, together with t^e year, day, aftd 
 13 
 
102 
 
 hour of the clay, in which each of the little strang- 
 ers made its first appearance. After the children 
 were grown old enough to dispute about their age, 
 the bibie was several times produced to settle these 
 disputes ; but after some of the girls had reached 
 their twenty -fourth year without being married, 
 the bible was taken more care of than ever; as 
 the eldest daughters were always ready to settle 
 the ages of the younger part of the family, to 
 save them the trouble of looking into the said 
 blank leaf. 
 
 Although one cannot help remarking with con- 
 cern, that seme of those who are acquainted with 
 the theory of religion, and who, to shew their 
 knowledge, or for worse purposes, introduce it 
 unseasonably, are yet known to be more relax in 
 the performance of the duties it enjoins, than 
 some that say little, and know less ; yet, surely, 
 those who in the higher walks of life totally neg- % 
 iect that important subject, and bring up their chil- 
 dren in gross ignorance of religion, must certainly 
 be blameable in a very high degree. My people 
 (srath God) perish for want of knowledge. Il is 
 really astonishing that mankind should employ so 
 much of their time in acquiring the knowledge 
 of tie most trifling things ; and, yet contentedly, 
 remain in ignorance of the christian religion, 
 w : ich tends so much to enlarge the powers of the 
 human mind ; and is the only basis of happiness 
 here, and hereafter, 
 
 I re member reading, thirty years since, in old 
 Pemble's Treatise of Grace, in folio, an account 
 of an old ma*, wUo. on his death-bed, was asked 
 by the minister, What he thought God was i He 
 
103 * 
 
 replied, M A fine old man." What do you think 
 Jesus Christ is ? " A hopeful youth," was the re- 
 ply. What do you think your soul is ? " A great 
 bone in my back," was the answer. 
 
 I am sorry to say, that this excellent lady's 
 knowledge in divine subjectsbut little exceeds that 
 of Pemble's poor old man ; but in sincerity and 
 openness of heart, I never saw one that exceeded 
 her. 
 
 I am, dear friend, 
 
 YourV, 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 
 Can make a Hell of Heaven, — paradise lost, 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 IN October 1798, S. P. Peach,- Esq. being 
 Major of the Tockington Volunteers, gave an en- 
 tertainment to his corps, and others of his neigh- 
 bours, in honour of Lord Ne!son*s glorious vic- 
 tory. This was done on the lawn before his 
 house. The good cheer, the company, music, 
 songs, bonfire, fire-works, Sec. Jaad a wonderful 
 effect on the poor countrymen ; one of them, in 
 raptures, exclaimed, (by my side) " This is heaven 
 upon earth !" Upon which another of our volun- 
 teers very sincerely and earnestly declared, that 
 u he did not think that heaven was half so fine a 
 plate." Tins had not the least appearance of le*« 
 vit;j; but was an honsst effusion of the heartv 
 
104 
 
 I will give you another anecdote of a similar 
 kind. 
 
 A neighbouring clergyman was sent for to pray 
 with a farmer's wife, on the Marsh-Common, 
 about five miles from my house. He, in order to 
 reconcile her to her dying situation, and to send 
 her quietly away, held forth on the happiness 
 which all good people enjoy after death at the 
 right hand of God ; during which she shewed 
 signs of impatience. The divine still kept on, and 
 enlarged on the glory, splendour, &c. of heaven, 
 until her patience being quite tired out, she ex- 
 claimed, " Don't tell me a long tale about the glo- 
 ry of Heaven ; Old England, and the Marsh-Com- 
 rnon for me." 
 
 Were it only a few poor ploughmen^ and a 
 jMarsh-Common farmer's wife, that had such low 
 thoughts of the happiness of a future state, one 
 jSfcould not be so much surprised; but is there not 
 "reason to think that there are thousands who have 
 rio better opinion of heavenly pleasure than 
 these poor untaught creatures that have- acquired 
 but few ideas above the hogs they feed, or the 
 beasts they drive The lady that was introduced to 
 you in my last letter freely confessed herself to be 
 of that number. She informed us, that except now 
 and then, when the thought of death, and the 
 
 * T -.~" Anxious casting up of what might he, 
 " Alarm'd her peaceful bosom," 
 
 and made her gloomy, she had always been happy 
 through life j that she would rather live here for 
 
105 
 
 ever than go to heaven ; that she had not conceiv- 
 ed very favourable ideas of the happihesss there to 
 be enjoyed ; and as she had no knowledge .of, or 
 relish for divine things, she did not see how she 
 could comfortably spend an eternity in a place 
 where nothing eise was going forward. 1 fear this 
 lady has, in giving us her own thoughts? given us 
 the thoughts of thousands ; and I think she rea- 
 soned well. There cannot be the least doubt that 
 the reason why many wish to go to heaven, is not 
 from any love they have for God or heaven ; but 
 as they know that there are but two places, they 
 wish to go there* to avoid hell. How many are there 
 that think the sabbath a very tiresome clay, be- 
 cause they have no relish for religious duties ; nay, 
 how many of those who go to church not only do 
 not find any pleasure there, but are glad when the 
 service is over? What enjoyment then. can such 
 expect in heaven? I well remember that both I 
 and my companions formerly used to iaugh at the 
 thoughts of going to heaven ; and were so profane 
 as to say that we should not like for eVerto sit on 
 a cloud and sing hallelujah ; and I fear we spoke 
 the real sentiments of many more. Before any 
 one can properly wish for heaven, or enjoy it here- 
 after* he must repent, and pray Until God gives 
 him a clean heart, and renews a right spirit within 
 him. Old things must be done away* all things must 
 become new. And then he will be meet to be a par- 
 taker of the inheritance with the saints in light. 
 
 But to return. When the lady had expressed 
 her mean ideas of the joys of heaven, Dick began 
 to spout away, 
 
106 
 
 *thy nature immortality ! who knows ? 
 And yet who knows it not ? It is but life 
 In stronger thread and brighter colours spun, 
 
 And spun for ever. 
 
 ■ H o w great 
 
 To ming'le hit 9 rests, converse, amities, 
 
 With all the sons of reason scattered wide 
 
 Thro' habitable space, wherever born, 
 
 Howe'er endow'd ! To live free citizen* 
 
 Of universal nature ; to lay hold 
 
 By more than feeble faith, on the Supreme : 
 
 To call heav'n's unfathomable mines 
 
 .Our own I To rise in science as in bliss, 
 
 In ; tiate in the secrets of the skies ! 
 
 To read creation, in its mighty plan ; 
 
 In the bare bosom of the Deity ! 
 
 To see before each glance of piercing thought, 
 
 ./Ul cloud, all shadows, blown remote ; and have 
 
 JJo mystery*— but that of love divine^- 
 
 Trom darkness, and from dust, to such a scene i 
 
 Love's element ; true joy's illustrious home ! 
 
 y i om earth's sad contrast (now deplor'd) more fair ! 
 
 "What exquisite vicissitude of fate ! 
 
 Blest absolution of our blackest hour ! 
 
 .« These are thoughts that make man, man, 
 
 The wise illumine ; agrandise the great. 
 
 DR. YOUNG- 
 
 How, Madam, do you like such a Heaven as 
 this I " O the description is delightful, charming, 
 I could have no objection to such a heaven to- 
 morrow ;" and she acknowledged that she saw no- 
 thing romantic in the poet's glowing description. 
 She believed that had she given the subject a pro- 
 per consideration, she must have had more fa- 
 vourable ideas of the happiness promised to those 
 that fear God and keep his commandments. 
 
 I repeated the following lines of Horace r 
 
107 
 
 Dost hear ? or sporting in my brain 
 What wildly-sweet delirium reign ? 
 Lo ! 'mid Elysium's balmy groves, 
 Each happy shade transported rove?», 
 I see the living scene display'd, 
 \Vhere rills and breathing" gales sigh murmuring'thxa 1 
 the shades. Francis. 
 
 She liked the christian's heaven best, andj smil- 
 ing, said, that as we seemed to be acquainted with 
 the country, she should be glad if we would give 
 her some further account of it. We quoted the 
 following passages. 
 
 Look up my soul, pant toward th* eternal hills : 
 
 Those heav'ns are fairer than they seem ; 
 There pleasures all sincere glide on crystal rills 5 
 There not a dreg of guilt denies, 
 Nor grief disturbs the stream ! 
 That Canaan knows no noxious thing, 
 No cursed soil, no tainted spring, 
 No roses grow on thorns, nor honey wears a sting* 
 Br. Watts'* Lyric jPoems. 
 
 I knew a man, whether in the body, or out of the 
 body, I cannot tell, God knoweth j) how that he wa» 
 caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words* 
 which is not lawful (or possible) for man to utter 
 
 ST. PAULi 
 
 What is death, that I should fear it ? 
 
 To die ! why^'tis to triumph ; *tis to join 
 
 The great assembly of the good and just ; 
 
 Immortal worthies, heroes, prophets, saints! 
 
 Oh, 'tis to join the band of holy men 
 
 Made perfect by their sufferings ! 'Tis to meet 
 
 My great progenitors ; they, with whom the Lord 
 
 Deigu'd to hold familiar converse ! 'Tis to c«e. 
 
Bless'd Noah and his children! onee a world ! 
 'Tis to behold, Oh, rapture to conceive ! 
 Those we have known, and lov'd, and lost below ! 
 To join the blest hosannas to their king 1 ! 
 Whose face to see, whose glory to behold, 
 Alone were heav'n, tho' saint or seraph none 
 Should meet our sight, and only God were there ! 
 This is to die ! who would not die for this ? 
 Who would not die that we may live for ever ? 
 
 MKS. H. MORE. 
 
 Let us suppose a man blind and deaf from his 
 birth, who being grown up to man's estate, is by 
 the dead-palsy, or some other cause, deprived of 
 Lis feeling, tasting, and smelling; and at the same 
 time has the impediment of his hearing removed, 
 and the film taken off his eyes; what the five 
 senses are to us, that the touch, taste, and smell 
 were to him. And any other ways of perception 
 of a more refined and extensive nature were to 
 iiim as inconceivable, as to us those are which will 
 one day be adapted to perceive those things which 
 " eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it 
 entered into the heart of man to conceive/' And 
 it would be just as reasonable in him to conclude, 
 that the loss of those three senses could not possi- 
 bly be succeeded by any new inlets of perception ; 
 as in a modern freethinker to imagine there can 
 be no state of life and perception without the 
 senses he enjoys at present. Let us further 
 suppose the same person's eyes, at their first 
 opening, to be struck with a great variety of 
 the most gay and pleasing objects, and his ears 
 ■with a melodious concert of vocal and instrumen- 
 tal music : behold him amazed, ravished, trans- 
 
109 
 
 ported ; and you have some faint glimmering 
 idea of the extatic state of the soul in that article 
 in which he emerges from this sepulchre of flesh 
 rato life and immortality. addison. 
 
 Who would not willingly leave a foolish, fro- 
 ward, ill-natured world, for the blessed society of 
 wise friends and perfect lovers ? What a felicity 
 must it be to spend an eternity in such a noble 
 conversation ! where we shall hear the deep phi- 
 losophy of heaven communicated with mutual free- 
 dom in the wise and amiable discourses of angeU 
 and glorified spirits : who without any reserve or 
 affectation of mystery, without passion, or interest, 
 or peevish contention for victory, do freely philoso- 
 phize, and mutually impart the treasures of each 
 other's knowledge. For since all saints there are 
 great philosophers, and all philosophers perfect 
 saints, we must needs suppose knowledge and good- 
 ness, wisdom and charity to be equally intermin- 
 gled throughout all their conversation ; being so, 
 what can be imagined more delightful ! When 
 therefore we shall leave this impertinent, unsocial 
 world, and all our good old friends that have gone 
 to heaven before us meet us as soon as we are 
 landed on the shore of eternity, and with infinite 
 congratulations for our safe arrival, shall conduct 
 us into the company of the patriarchs and prophets, 
 apostles and martyrs, and introduce us into an in- 
 timate acquaintance with them, and with all those 
 brave and generous souls who by their glorious ex- 
 amples have recommended themselves to the 
 world \ when we shall be familiar friends with 
 K 
 
110 
 
 tea* 
 n to 
 
 angets and archangels, and all the courtiers of /tea 
 ven shall call us brethren^ and bid us enter into 
 their Master's joy. 
 
 My friend Dick said, that he had often pleased 
 himself with the hopes of not only seeing and 
 being acquainted with eminent christians, such as 
 Newton, Locke, Boyle, Fenelon, Pascal, the 
 Man of Ross, Dr. Johnson, J. Hanway, Howard 
 and others, but also Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, 
 Aristotle, Epictetus, Cicero, Cato, &c. 
 
 I advised our good lady to read Dr. Scott's 
 Christian Life, particularly the first part; and 
 also Sherlock, on the Happiness of good men in a 
 future state ; and Dr. Watts, on the Happiness of 
 Separate Spirits. I also told her that she would 
 find some rational, and many amusing passages 
 on the happiness of the celestial regions, in Mrs. 
 Rowe's works. I will conclude this long letter 
 with a few lines of that pious lady. 
 
 O, come ! ye sacred gusts, ye pure delight?.. 
 Ye heav'nlv sounds, ye intellectual sights ; 
 Ye gales of paradise, that lull to rest, 
 And fill \Vith silent calm the peaceful breast : 
 With you, transporting hopes, that boldly rise. 
 And swell, in blissful torrents, to the skies : 
 That soar with angels on their splendid wings r 
 And search th* arcana of celestial things. 
 Here let me dwell and bid the world adieu ! 
 And still converse, ye glorious scenes, with you. 
 
 I am r 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Yours> 
 
Ill 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 Thus Earth, and all that earthly minds admire, 
 Is sw allowed in Eternity's vast round. 
 To that stupendous view when souls awake, 
 Time's toys suhside ; and equal alt below. 
 
 DR. YOUNG, 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I NOW sit down to give you a few mere par- 
 ticulars relating to my conversion to Christianity. 
 My conversion was not instantaneous, but progres- 
 sive ; for, in retreating from the cause ol infideli- 
 ty, I disputed every inch of ground before I re- 
 linquished it. I found it impossible long to re- 
 main a downright atheist, but was sceptical for 
 some years ; and I even had an atheistical pam- 
 phlet, which was hard to be come at, reprinted, on 
 hearing that the author had in great haste taken 
 away nearly the whole of his own impression from 
 the different booksellers where they had been left 
 for sale. I also advised a Scotch bookseller to re- 
 print another work in the cause of infidelity ; 
 which he did, and I purchased many of the im- 
 pression and sold them. During this period I 
 did not think that the belief, or disbelief, of any 
 article of faith, had any influence on the morals of 
 mankind. 
 
 About nine or tea years since, one of the 
 French emigrants wanted me very much to print 
 a translation from the French of an atheistical 
 work ; but having begun to see the bad effects of 
 such publications, he could not prevail upon me 
 
112 
 
 to have any thing; to do with him or his works ; 
 nor from that time do I recollect vending any of 
 the new productions of that kind. 
 
 I for many years had doubts as to the immorta- 
 lity of the soul, and, at intervals, disbelieved that 
 doctrine ; but as I occasionally read the Night 
 Thoughts of Dr. Young, his strong arguments in 
 favour of the soul's immateriality and immortali- 
 ty, prevented me from settling in unbelief on that 
 important article. I also once dreamed (pray do 
 not laugh and think me still dreaming) that I saw 
 the finest poem I had ever read in my life ; on 
 which I reasoned thus. As I never saw any com- 
 position equal to that which I read in my dream ; 
 and as from the ideas which I retained of it when 
 I awoke, it appeared a thousand times more beau- 
 tiful than any thing I could compose when awake, 
 therefore my soul must be immaterial; for other- 
 wise I could not, while in a state of sleep, have 
 combined and arranged such a variety of beautiful 
 and delightful ideas as to me appeared a new cre- 
 ation. On this head Bishop Butler says, u That 
 we have no reason to think our organs of sense 
 precipients, is confirmed by instances of persons 
 losing some of them, the living beings themselves, 
 their former occupiers, remaining unimpaired. It 
 is confirmed also by the experience of dreams ; 
 by which we find we are at present possessed of a 
 latent, and, what would otherwise be, an unima- 
 gined, unknown power of perceiving sensible ob- 
 jects, in as strong and lively a manner without our 
 external organs of sense as with them. 
 
 I presume, that the good Bishop in this passage 
 
113 
 
 only speaks of our common dreams, which was by 
 no means the case of mine. 
 
 The following lines were often impressed on 
 my mind, and were repeated by me times without 
 number, when alone : 
 
 -Whv shrinks the soul 
 
 Back on herself and startles at destruction ? 
 
 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us : 
 
 ? Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 
 
 And intimates eternity to man. 
 
 Eternity ! thou pleasing", dreadful thought ! 
 
 A DDT SON'S CAT 6. 
 
 It is not my design to adduce the proofs of those 
 doctrines that I have again heartily embraced, but 
 I cannot help inserting a few quotations on some 
 of those points. Cicero says, in his Tusc. Qirest. 
 " We can never believe, that after the virtuoi 
 have struggled through all their labours, an infi- 
 nitely good and Almighty God will let them fall 
 into an eternal sleep." In another place he says, 
 " If I am wrong in believing that the souls of 
 men are immortal, I please myself in my mis- 
 take : nor while I live, will I ever chyse that this 
 opinion, wherewith I am so much delighted, 
 should be wrested from me ; but if at death I 
 am to be annihilated, as some minute philosophers 
 imagine, I am not afraid lest those wise men, 
 when extinct too, should laugh at my error." 
 
 And in his charming treatise on old age, he 
 says, " This is my firm persuasion, that since the 
 human soul exerts itself with so great activity ,. 
 since it has such a remembrance of the past, such 
 a concern for the future, since it is Qnrichetl with 
 K 2 
 
114 
 
 so many arts, sciences, and discoveries, it is im- 
 possible but the being which contains all these 
 must be immortal." 
 
 I will conclude this with a few lines from my 
 favourite author. 
 
 Eternity's vast ocean lies before tliee. 
 Give the mind sea-room ; keep it wide of earth, 
 Tnat rock of souls immortal ; cut thy cord ; 
 Weigh anchor ; spread thy sails ; call ev'ry wind ; 
 Eye the Great Pole-star ,• make the Land of Life. 
 
 NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 I will proceed with my narativc in my next. 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 On argument alone my faith is built ; 
 Reason pursu'd is Faith ,• and, unpursu'd 
 Where proof invites, tis Reason then no more : 
 And such our Proof, that, or our Faith is right, 
 Or Reason lies, and heav'n design'd it wrong. 
 
 DR. YOUNG. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 ABOUT eight years since, the being ana 
 providence of God were a good deal impressed 
 on my mind, so that I often reflected on those im- 
 portant subjects in my garden, in the fields, in 
 bed, in short* in all places. The principles and 
 
115 
 
 duties of natural religion had some influence on 
 my mind and conduct. I sometimes went to 
 church, where I felt a spirit of devotion j so that 
 I found my heart engaged in the prayers, and felt 
 some degree of thankfulness to God, 1 also felt 
 the same spirit of devotion at times when not at 
 church. Ncr could I help admiring the charac- 
 ter of Christ ; his precepts also appeared to me 
 perfectly well calculated to promote both public 
 and private happiness. 
 
 In this state of mind I went quietly and con- 
 tentedly on for some years. As I had no relish 
 for ti^ ridiculous pursuits of those around me, 
 my amusement was reading, or, now and then, 
 scribbling, 
 
 I at last (as I have before informed you) began 
 to read some extracts from books on divinity, 
 which I found in the Reviews. Those extracts 
 gave me a more thoughtful turn, and left my 
 mind open to conviction. The first entire work 
 that I read in defence of revealed religion, was 
 Archdeacon Paley's View of the Evidences of 
 Christianity. 
 
 By the time I had gone through this very able 
 and convincing work once, I was effectually 
 humbled, and obliged to cry out, God be merciful 
 to me a dreadful sinner ! I was obliged to confess 
 that the wisdom, power and love of God were dis- 
 played in the gospel. 
 
 But although I was convinced that the gospel 
 was a revelation from God, yet I had great doubts 
 as to the dispensations contained in the Old Tes- 
 tament : nor did I think the New Testament an 
 inspired work : in short; I gave but little more 
 
116 
 
 credit to either the Old or New Testament, than 
 I did to Xenophon or Livy. As I believed that 
 Xenophon and Livy were honest men, and faith- 
 ful historians, I therefore credited their narra- 
 tions. And even in this view of the authors 
 of the New Testament, I could not help believing 
 that the christian religion was a revelation of the 
 will of God. On the same evidence, I saw that I 
 ought to believe the Old Testament dispensations 
 were from God; yet the various objections which 
 unbelievers have repeatedly made to the Jewish 
 dispensation, together with many texts in the 
 Old Testament, were difficulties I could not get 
 over, until I had read part of Paley again ; and 
 also the third enlarged edition of the first volume, 
 and the second edition of the second volume of 
 JenkhVs Reasonableness and certainty of the 
 christian religion. This very extraordinary, 
 learned and sensible work, gave nae ample satis- 
 faction on those heads : and it is worth remark- 
 ing, that this work was written before Tyndal, 
 Collins, Morgan, &c. wrote their objections and 
 misrepresentations, which makes them the more 
 inexcuseable. I have induced several of the clergy 
 to look into this masterly work, who now think 
 it a performance that discovers great reading, 
 great abilities, and biblical learning. 
 
 When I had satisfied myself on the above 
 heads, I still had my doubts as to some of the 
 mysteries of the christian religion. The divinity 
 of Christ, the doctrine of the Trinity, and the 
 atonement made by Christ, Sec. I could not be- 
 lieve, because I could not comprehend them. I 
 believed that Christ was sent by God ? to give man> 
 
117 
 
 kind a pure system of morality, to assure us of 
 the immortality of the soul, the resurrection of 
 the body, and future rewards and punishments : 
 and that by his perfect life, his sufferings and 
 death, he had given us an excellent example — 
 Further than this I could not believe, until I had 
 again and airain consulted the scriptures, various 
 commentators, and the works of many other 
 learned divines, from whom I received great as- 
 sistance ; particularly from Jenkin, and also from 
 Bishop Butler's Analogy of Religion, an exceed- 
 ingly valuable work. In this study I have em- 
 ployed a very large portion of my time, and in it 
 I have found a lasting source of pleasure and de- 
 light. 
 
 After all my investigation, although I assent 
 to the truth of those doctrines, I do not pretend 
 th c I comprehend them. I only believe them, 
 because I think they are taught in the Old Testa- 
 ment, and by Christ and his apostles in the New 
 Testament. 
 
 The following passage in Butler's Analogy of 
 Religion, pleaded me much. "Hence, (says the 
 doctor) namely, from analogical reasoning, Ori- 
 gen has with singular sagacity observed, that 
 * he who believes the scripture to have proceeded 
 from him who is the Author of Nature, may well 
 expect to find the same sort of difficulties in it, 
 as we found in the constitution of naiure.' On 
 the quotation the Doctor adds, ' And in like way 
 of reflection it may be added, that he who denies 
 the scripture to have been from God, upon ac- 
 count of these difficulties, may, for the very same- 
 reason, deny the world to have been formed by 
 
118 
 
 him. On the other hand, if there be an analogy 
 or likeness between that system of things and 
 dispensation of Providence which revelation in- 
 forms us of, and that system of things and dis- 
 pensation of Providence which experience, to- 
 gether with reasen, informs us of, i. e. the known 
 course of Nature ; this is a presumption, that 
 they both have the same Author and cause." 
 
 I have often, like other infidels, laughed at peo- 
 ple's believing what they did not understand ; 
 without considering that, were we to believe no 
 more than what we understand, even of the com- 
 mon operations of nature, we should scarce be- 
 lieve any thing. 
 
 Jen kin, when treating of the doctrine of the 
 Trinity, vol. ii. p. 401, says, " The sum is, that 
 in the most perfect unity of the Divine Nature, 
 do subsist the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, between whom is a real distinction, which 
 though not the same, yet is equivalent to the 
 distinctions of persons among men. That there 
 is this unity and this distinction, we learn from 
 the scriptures; but what kind of distinction this 
 is, or how far it is to be reconciled with our notion 
 of persons amongst men, and after what manner 
 it is consistent with the unity of the Godhead, the 
 scriptures have not told us, and it is impossible 
 for us to determine." In page 333, he says, " But 
 some men will. say, how is this union between the 
 divine and human nature in Christ made, or 
 wherein doth it consist? To whom we may reply, 
 as our Saviour sometimes did, by asking another 
 question, and inquiring, How the body and soul 
 of man is united ? or How God is present in all 
 
119 
 
 places ? And how in him we live, move, and have 
 our being?" Page 196, he observes, " The best 
 philosophers have been able to give no account 
 how motion can be communicated without an im- 
 mediate impulse, or concourse of the divine pow- 
 er." Page 147, "Through an immense void 
 space, the sun's rays find their regular and con- 
 stant way, and in a few minutes pass from the 
 sun to the earth ; for which there is no cause as- 
 signable from the attractive power ; which should 
 rather detain the rays of light in a perpetual cir- 
 culation about the sun's centre, than dart them 
 forth by so violent a motion to the remotest dis- 
 tance. But God 6aid, Let there be tight, and there 
 nvas light. He prepared the light and the sun. This 
 is the best and the most philosophical account that 
 has ever been given of the productions of light." 
 Again, If all the fluids which the sun loses in a 
 year, were brought into a solid form, it would not 
 equal a grain of sand." 
 
 Gilpin in his second sermon observes, " But it 
 is mysterious, says the deist. Aye, surely ; and 
 so is every pile of grass you tread on. But the 
 question is not whether things be mysterious — 
 for all things are mysterious — but whether the 
 mystery be supported by evidence ? The pile of 
 grass appeals to all nature, for its being the work 
 !>f God : and the truth of Christ's atonement, 
 however mysterious, is supported by evidence 
 squally strong. — It rests on all the evidence that 
 scripture can give it." 
 
 " This great doctrine is supported also by the 
 analogy of God's moral government, under which 
 tve all act as a kind of redeemers, and mediators 
 
120 
 
 among each other, in our own little temporal af- 
 fairs/' 
 
 " Nor is it a weak argument in favour of this 
 doctrine, when we appeal to our own feelings. We 
 must be conscious, when we look into ourselves, 
 of such unworthiness, as must entirely disqualify 
 us for the divine favour, without some better in- 
 troduction than our own. It is an opinion strong- 
 ly implanted in our nature, Guilt always wishes 
 for support ." It is said of Leibnitz, that he never 
 mentions the sacred books but with respect; they 
 are filled, said he, with a morality necessary to man. 
 He said also, we ought to judge of the works of 
 God as wisely as Socrates did of those of Hera- 
 clitus, by saying, That which I comprehend flleases 
 me ; I believe the rest would not please me less, if 
 I understood it." 
 
 -Man to himself 
 
 Is all a miracle, I cannot see 
 
 The latent cause, yet such I know there is, 
 
 That gives the body motion, nor tell 
 
 By what strange impulse 'tis, the ready limb 
 
 Performs the purposes of will. How then 
 
 Shall thou or I, who cannot span ourselves 
 
 In this our narrow vessel, comprehend 
 
 The being of a God ? 
 
 VILLAGE CURATE. 
 
 lam, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's 
 
121 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 Tell if thou knowesf, why Conscience acts 
 With tenfold force, when sickness, age, or pain 
 Stands tott'ring on the pre: pice of death ? 
 Or why such horror gnaws the guilty soul 
 Of dying sinners, while the good man sleeps 
 Peaceful and calm ; and with a smile expires ? 
 
 DR. GLYNN. 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 YOU ask whether still I am satisfied and 
 pleased with those parts oftne Memoirs of my 
 Life, in which I have made so free with "Mr. 
 Wesley and his people ? I answer in the nega- 
 tive. I am not pleased, or satisfied, on that head, 
 for the following reasons. 
 
 I now think that I have treated serious subjects 
 in too light and trifling a manner ; and that some 
 of my stones should have been omitted, for obvi- 
 ous reasons. The late Mr. Badcock says, " In 
 Warburton's works (against the Methodists)there 
 is too much levity for a Bishop, and too much il- 
 literate abuse for a Christian." Even while I re- 
 mained a freethinker, I sometimes thought that I 
 had been too severe towards them : as a christian, 
 I see my faults in a still stronger light. A real 
 religious person will be careful how he speaks of 
 the faults and failings of others : nor will he treat 
 religious subjects with levity. 
 
 Although I was an infidel when I wrote my 
 Memoirs, yet I was very careful that, in what I 
 wrote against the Methodists, nothing should 
 L 
 
1-22 
 
 point against (what I conceived to be) Christi- 
 anity : but although I have not said any thing 
 against what I conceived to be revealed religion ; 
 yet I find that some infidels have so understood 
 me ; from which I learn that what was intended 
 to be levelled only against enthusiasm and fanati- 
 cism, is by some of those unbelievers supposed to 
 be pointed against revealed religion, so that if by 
 any means I have contributed towards confirm- 
 ing, or hardening any unbeliever in his infidelity, 
 I am sorry on that account also. 
 
 In the latter end of the year 1791, when my 
 Memoirs were first published, I had not witness- 
 ed, to its extent, the pernicious influence of infi- 
 del opinions upon all ranks in society. After I 
 became better acquainted with the dreadful effects 
 of infidelity in others, I was sorry for what I had 
 done, for I was then fully convinced, that the ge- 
 nerality of mankind will always be much happier 
 and better while under the influence of religious 
 fanaticism, and even superstition than when they 
 have lost all regard to^or sense of religion. Be- 
 sides, I had known by myself and others, that for 
 want of sufficient knowledge, many when they 
 are reasoned out of fanaticism, are liable to go to 
 the other extreme, by plunging into infidelity. 
 
 If then, while yet an infidel, I could see rea- 
 sons why my strictures on Mr. Wesley's people 
 should have been omitted, you may easily con- 
 clude that I am not satisfied on that head, now my 
 views of things are so much altered. 
 
 On this head I formerly quoted a passage from 
 that inconsistent infidel Rousseau ; I found fault 
 wjth it, because I did not understand it, (no im« 
 
125 
 
 common thing) ; the reason I did not understand 
 it was because I read it in a publication where it 
 was garbled ; I have since found it in its proper 
 place and state, it is in the third volume of his 
 Emilius, and from thence I will transcribe it. 
 
 4 Avoid all those who, under pretence of ex- 
 plaining natural causes, plant the most destruc- 
 tive doctrines in the hearts of men ; and whose 
 apparent scepticism is an hundred times more 
 dogmatical and affirmative, than the decisive 
 tone of their adversaries. Under the haughty 
 protest of being the only persons who are truly 
 enlightened, honest, and sincere, they subject 
 us imperiously to their magisterial decisions, and 
 give us for the true principles of things, only 
 unintelligible systems, which they have raised in 
 their own imaginations. Add to this, that while 
 they overturn, destroy, and trample under foot 
 every thing that is respectable among mankind, 
 they deprive the afflicted of the last consolation 
 of their misery ; and take from the rich and 
 powerful the only check to the indulgence of 
 their passions ; and they eradicate from our 
 hearts the remorse of guilt, and the hopes of 
 virtue; absurdly boasting themselves at the time 
 the friends and benefactors of mankind. The 
 truth, say they, can never be hurtful : so far I 
 am of their opinion, and this is to me a great 
 proof that what they teach cannot be true.' 
 
 To the above, Rousseau adds, in a note, the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 f The contending parties reciprocally attack 
 each other with so many sophisms, that it 
 would be a rash enterprise to undertake to ck- 
 
124 
 
 pose them all. One of the most common on 
 the philosophical side of the question is, to con- 
 trast an imaginary people, supposed to be ail 
 good philosophers, with another people all bad 
 christians ; as if it were more easy to make a 
 people true philosophers than good christians. 
 I know not whether among individuals, one be 
 more easily met with than the other ; but this I 
 know, that when we speak of a people, we must 
 suppose they would as much abuse a philosophy 
 without religion, as they do religion without phi- 
 losophy ; and this consideration seems to me to 
 make a great difference in the question. Bayie 
 ifas proved very acutely, that fanaticism is more _ 
 p&rnicious than atheism ; and this is not to be 
 disputed : but he neglected to observe, what is 
 nevertheless true, that fanaticism, though san- 
 guinary and cruel, is a great and animating pas- 
 sion, that it elevates the heart of man, and 
 makes him look down with contempt on death ; 
 that it is a prodigious spring of action, and re- 
 quires only to be duly regulated in order to pro- 
 duce the most sublime virtues ; whereas on the 
 contrary, irreligion and a philosophical spirit in 
 general, attaches us to life, enervates and debases 
 the soul, concentrating all our passions in self- 
 interest ; and thus sapping by degrees the foun- 
 dations of society. If atheism be less sangui- 
 nary, it is less out of love to peace than from an 
 indifference to virtue : let the world go how it 
 will, it little concerns these pretended sages, pro- 
 vided they can loll at ease in their closets. Their 
 principles do not excite them to slaughter, but 
 they prevent them from adding to their number, 
 by corrupting the manners which tend to their 
 
125 
 
 increase ; by detaching themselves from tbeii 
 species, and reducing* all their affections to a sel- 
 fish egotism, as fatal to population as to virtue. 
 The indifference of a philosopher resembles the 
 tranquillity of a state, under a despotic govern- 
 ment ; it is the tranquillity of death, and more 
 destructive than war itself. Thus fanaticism, 
 though more fatal in its immediate effects, than 
 what is called the philosophic spirit of the age, 
 is much less so in its remoter consequences. 
 
 1 Philosophy, on its own principles, cannot be 
 productive of any virtue, which does not flow from 
 religion, and religion is productive of many vir- 
 tues, to which philosophy is a stranger. As to 
 the practice it is another thing, and remains to be 
 examined. There is no man who practises in 
 every particular the duties of his religion, when 
 he has one, that is true : the greater part of man- 
 kind have hardly any religion at all, and practise 
 nothing of what little they have ; this also is very 
 true : but after all, some have religion, and 
 practise it at least in part ; and it is incontestible, 
 that motives of religion prevent them often from 
 falling into vice, and excite to virtuous and com- 
 mendable actions, which they had not perform- 
 ed but for such motives. Let a priest be guilty 
 of a breach of trust ; what does this prove but 
 that a blockhead had confided in him ? If Pas- 
 cal himself had done it, this would have proved 
 Pascal an hypocrite ; but nothing more. — But a 
 priest ! Well, and what then ? Are those who 
 make a traffic, the truly religious ? The crimes of 
 the clergy by no means prove that religion is use* 
 Tess, but that fe>y persons arc religious, 
 M 
 

 126 
 
 " Modern governments arc undoubtedly indebt- 
 ed to Christianity for their most solid authority, 
 and the rarity of revolutions ; it has even ren- 
 dered them less sanguinary; this is proved by 
 comparing them with the ancient governments. 
 Religion better understood, hat,h by banishing 
 fanaticism given a great mildness to christian 
 manners. This alteration is not the effect of 
 letters, for we do not find that wherever litera- 
 ture hath flourished, humanity hath been at all 
 times the more respected ; the cruelty of the 
 Athenians, the Egyptians, the Roman emper- 
 ors, and the Chinese, are evidences of this. On 
 the other hand, what deeds of charity and mercy 
 have been effected by the gospel 1 how. many 
 restitutions and reparations hath not the prac- 
 tice of confessions brought about among the Ca- 
 tholics ? Among us hew many reconciliations 
 are effected, how many alms are distributed be- 
 fore approaching communion ? Among the 
 Jews, avarice let go its hold, and misery was 
 banished from among them on the approach of 
 their jubilee. Not a beggar was to be seen in 
 their streets, as there is not among the Turks, 
 whose charitable foundations are innumerable. 
 By the principles of their religion they are taught 
 %o be hospitable even to the enemies of it. Char- 
 din tells us, that the Mahometans imagine there 
 is a bridge, which they call Poul-Serrho, thrown 
 over the flames of hell, which they are to pass at 
 the general resurrection ; and this they cannot 
 do until they have repaired the injuries they 
 have committed. Can I conceive that this 
 bridge, which is to repair so many iniquities, 
 
127 
 
 does not actually prevent some? Suppose 
 were to deprive the Persians of this idea, by 
 persuading them there is no such thing as their 
 Poul-Serrho, nor any thing like it, where the op- 
 pressed shall be avenged on theiv oppressors 
 after death; is it not clear that the latter would 
 be very much at their ease, and would be freed 
 from their trouble of appeasing the former ? It is 
 therefore false, that this doctrine is not hurtful ; 
 and therefore it cannot be true. 
 
 4i Your moral precepts, my philosophers, are 
 very fine ; but pray let me know what sanction 
 you have for them. Forbear a moment to wan- 
 der from the point, and tell me plainly what you 
 substitute in the place of the Poul-Serrho." 
 
 Although Rousseau in this note allows Bayle's 
 assertions to be true, yet I think it is evident that 
 in his reasoning on it he has refuted it : and it 
 should be remarked, that this author was only ac- 
 quainted with a few philosophical atheists who 
 speculated in their closets. What would he have 
 said had he lived to see those opinions taught to 
 the vulgar, and some of those philosophers guilty 
 of the most horrid crimes ? 
 
 From the examples that we have seen in France 
 we should use much caution, even in laudable at- 
 tempts to eradicate fanatical or superstitious no- 
 tions from the minds of the common people. 
 Amongst Mr. Wesley's people there are no doubt 
 some very sensible men ; that this should be the 
 case with the bulk of them is not to be expected. 
 It is obvious that neither themselves nor their 
 creed could be corrected or reformed by the me- 
 thod I took ; they were more likely to be induced 
 
128 
 
 to renounce religion altogether. On thataccount 
 also, I am not satisfied with my conduct towards 
 them ; but I will conclude this and resume the 
 subject in my next. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 i: By hope affected, virtue keeps the road 
 
 " That leads to heaven, and gains the blissful port. 
 
 £C On his support the wretched still rely, 
 
 " Live on his words, and catch the balmy gale ; 
 
 Xi While sweet religion points the weary eye 
 " To peace beyond this mortal vale." 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 HAD not my last been so long, I should have 
 added a curious passage from the notes to Dr. 
 Parr's Spital Sermon, preached at Christ Church, 
 upon Easter Tuesday, April 15, 1800. You know 
 that Plutarch, Bacon, and other great and little 
 men have said, that superstition is worse than 
 atheism. I repeated their words in my Memoirs ; 
 but although we knew the effects of superstition, 
 we were, until lately, ignorant of the full effects 
 of atheism. As the subject is somewhat con- 
 nected with that of my preceding letter, I will 
 transcribe the passage. 
 
 4 What. I would ask, (says the Doctor) are the 
 general effects of superstition and atheism upon 
 
129 
 
 the happiness and the conduct of mankind ? Su- 
 perstition it is granted, has many direct sorrows; 
 but atheism, no direct joys. Superstition admits 
 fear, mingled with hope ; but atheism, wniie it 
 excludes hope, affords a very im perfect security 
 against fear. Superstition is never exposed to 
 the dreary vacuity in the soul, over which 
 atheism is wont to brood in solitude and silence ; 
 but atheism is sometimes haunted by fore- 
 bodings scarcely less confused, or less un- 
 quiet, than those by which superstition is annoy - 
 ed. Superstition stands aghast at the punish- 
 ments reserved for wicked men in another state ; 
 but atheism cannot disprove the possibility of such 
 a state to all men ; accompanied by conscious- 
 ness, and fraught with evils equally dreadful in 
 degree and duration, with those punishments. 
 Superstition has often preserved men from 
 crimes ; but atheism tends to protect them from 
 weakness only. Superstition imposes fresh res- 
 traints upon the sensual appetites, though it may 
 often let loose the malignant passions ; but athe- 
 ism takes away many restraints from those appe- 
 tites, without throwing equal checks upon those 
 passions, under many circumstances which may 
 excite them in the minds of its votaries. Super- 
 stition is eager from a vicious excess of credulity ; 
 but atheism is often obstinate from aia excess of 
 incredulity, equally vicious. Superstition is some- 
 times docile from conscious weakness ; but 
 atheism is always haughty, from real or 
 supposed strength. Superstition errs, and 
 perverts only in consequence of error ; hut athe- 
 ism rejects, and for the most part, disdains 
 
130 
 
 to examine after rejection. Superstition catches 
 at appearances ; but atheism starts back from re- 
 alities. Superstition may, in a favourable mo- 
 ment, be awakened to the call of truth ; but athe- 
 ism is generally deaf to the voice of that charmer, 
 charm she never so wisely.' 
 
 Further on the Doctor says, 
 
 4 Wc may without the imputation of folly ven- 
 ture to ask, whether the arguments against athe- 
 ism be such as usually produce a steady assent ^ 
 and to warrant an unlimited affiance ? Without 
 the imputation of perverseness, we may not be 
 In haste to apply to the judgment of every athe- 
 ist, what Taylor eloquently says of the will, that 
 like the magnetic needle, " it was full of tremb- 
 ling and uncertainty, ere it became fixed at its 
 beloved point, wavering at first, because at first it 
 tloubted, and then was at rest, because it could 
 doubt no more." < After reaching that state of 
 rest, atheism may have the credit of rescuing 
 a man from the agitations of delusive hopes, and 
 the torments of groundless fears. But may it 
 not destroy at the same time other fears, which 
 are very salutary in checking our fantastic de- 
 sires, and calming our turbulent resentments ; 
 and may it not extinguish other hopes too, which 
 seem necessary to support the bulk of mankind in 
 their passage through this vale of tears.' 
 
 An atheist can never enjoy such happy mo- 
 ments as the following lines describe. 
 
 Calm as the stillness which succeeds a storm, 
 Soft as the spring-tide in its milder form, 
 When every bud, and every opening" flower 
 
Exhales fresh sweetness from the vernal shower , 
 So still, so calm, so tranquillized the bi-east, 
 "When all the fiend-like passions are at rest, 
 "When Grace and Nature's jarring- discord cease, 
 And conscience whispers, all within is peace. 
 
 Thoughts on Happiness. 
 
 It is certainly possible even for a fanatic, or a 
 superstitious person to experience such a charm- 
 ing state of mind at times : but it is not possible 
 that an atheist ever should. 
 
 In every edition of my Memoirs, is the fol- 
 lowing passage, 
 
 i I have been often asked if 1 did not believe, or 
 rather know, that the Methodists were a vile set 
 of hypocrites altogether? My reply has been 
 uniformly in the negative. I am certain that 
 they are not in general so : the greatest part of 
 them indeed are very ignorant, (which is the case 
 of enthusiasts of every religion ;) but I believe 
 that a very considerable number of the Metho- 
 dists are a sincere, honest, and friendly people. 
 In Justice to those of that description, it may »ot 
 be amiss to observe, that many artful, sly, de- 
 signing persons, have noticed their character, 
 connection, kc\ and knowing that a religious per- 
 son is in general supposed to be honest and con- 
 scientious, have been induced to join their soci- 
 eties, and by assuming an appearance of extra- 
 ordinary sanctity, have the better been enabled 
 to cheat and defraud such as were not guarded 
 against their hypocritical wiles/ 
 
 If at a time when I had shaken hands with 
 christianitv and parted, I was obliged in con- 
 

 science to assert, that they were in general hon- 
 est, friendly and sincere ; you may easily sup- 
 pose that I am not now pleased with my attempts 
 to render them ridiculous, as I learn by so doing 
 I have in some measure been aiding the cause of 
 infidelity. And perhaps what I have said might 
 also have tended to encourage some hardened 
 and impenitent sinners, who are ever ready to 
 apply what might be said in a light, trifling way, 
 against fanaticism or superstition to any degree 
 of religious worship or conduct that is beyond 
 the ordinary custom of the world. 
 
 I also think that I should not have endeavoured 
 to render the whole of those people ridiculous, as 
 by so doing I have grieved many who are sincere- 
 ly worshipping God, and, as they think, in the 
 best way and manner it is possible to worship 
 him. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that they have been 
 the means of reclaiming and civilizing many ig- 
 norant, hardened, and notorious wretches, in 
 whom it were hard to say whether the devil or 
 brute were most predominant ; yet such as these 
 have by them been induced ever after to live pi- 
 ous, sober, industrious members 01 society. 
 
 I must also observe, that when we see so much 
 coldness and indifference towards religion and re- 
 ligious duties ; when so many seem to think that 
 if our brethren sleep they do well ; it was not a 
 time, at least for me, to be declaiming so much 
 against enthusiasm. I must conclude this, and 
 finish the subject in my next. 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, your** 
 
133 
 
 LETTER XXL 
 
 i Odious sland'ring thief is worse 
 Than the poor rogue who steals your purse. 
 
 COTTON. 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I AM also sorry that in my Memoirs I insert- 
 ed two letters said to be written by Mr. Wesley, 
 When I inserted them, I informed my readers 
 that I copied them from a pamphlet, entitled 
 « A Letter to the Rev. T. Coke, L. L. D. and Mr. 
 Moore, by an old Member (of Mr. Wesley's So- 
 ciety.) I was induced to believe those letters to 
 be genuine, partly by their bearing some resem- 
 blance to Mr. Wesley's stile and manner, but 
 more so from the notice which was printed at the 
 end of the second letter, and is as follows : 
 
 Should any one entertain a doubt concerning the 
 foregoing letters being written by Mr. Wesley, the 
 author can produce the originals , for the satisfaction 
 of such, if they will take the trouble to call on the 
 publisher, who has his address, and will refer them 
 to him. 
 
 When I transcribed these letters from the above 
 pamphlet, the third edition of my Memoirs was 
 in the press ; and as the printer w as nearly come 
 to the part where I wished them to be introduced, 
 I sent the copy off in a hurry, and then set off to 
 my house at Merton. 
 
 Some time after these extraordin ary letters had 
 been printed in my Memoirs, I wa s not quite sat- 
 isfied that I had omitted to see the originals, 
 M ^^ 
 
134 
 
 Upon which I sent my head shopman, with my 
 compliments to the author 6f the pamphlet, and 
 requested a sight of ihose original letters ; but, 
 instead of complying with my request, he return- 
 ed for answer, that he had rt turned the letters to 
 the persons to whom they were written. 
 
 When I found that he could not, or would not 
 produce the originals, I was more dissatisfied 
 with myself for having inserted them in my Me- 
 moirs. 
 
 In all subsequent editions of those Memoirs, I 
 should have left them out ; but after they had 
 found a place there, had they been omitted, I 
 thought my readers might be displeased, and 
 think that I had not done right in omitting them ; 
 others that never saw the pamphlet from whence 
 I informed my readers I had transcribed them, 
 might think they were fabricated by me, and 
 that I had from conscious guilt left them out. 
 Upon the whole, I thought it best not to omit 
 •them ; so that they are to be found in abaut twelve 
 thousand copies of the memoirs of my life. 
 
 I have ever, in subsequent editions, informed 
 my readers that I could not be certain as to their 
 authenticity, as I had sent to the author and re- 
 quested a sight of the originals, and that he had 
 returned the above answer. I also shewed the 
 pamphlet from whence I transcribed them to all 
 that desired to see it ; and I still keep it by me. 
 It was printed for J. Luffman, Alfred-buildings> 
 Windmill-street, Moorfields; H. D. Symons,No. 
 20 Paternoster-row ; J Phillips, No. 27 City- 
 road j and J Cottle, Bristol* 
 
1S5 
 
 Supposing Mr. Wesley to be the author of the 
 first of these letters, he could not have been an 
 honest man, or sincere in what he professed to 
 believe, as I ever believed him to be until I saw 
 that letter. Even while I was an infidel 1 respect- 
 ed him so much for these qualities, and his un- 
 wearied disinterested labours, in what he believed 
 to be the cause of God and the good of mankind, 
 that it always gave me pleasure to see him pass 
 by my shop. After I had seen those, letters I was 
 often in doubt as to his real character. When I 
 reflected on his primitive manner of living, hid 
 sufferings, his unparalleled labours for more than 
 sixty years together, &c. I could hardly think it 
 possible for a human being to be for such a length 
 oftime«,andin such a manner, only acting a feign- 
 ed part ; for had he been the author of the first 
 letter, he must have been a hypocrite, or a free- 
 thinker, or both. 
 
 It is a horrid crime to misrepresent and black* 
 en any person's character. 
 
 " The dark villain who shall aim 
 
 " To blast a fair and spotless name, 
 
 i( He steals a precious gem away, 
 
 u Steals what both Indies can't repay." 
 
 It was still worse to blacken such a person as 
 every pious man must acknowledge Mr. Wesley 
 to have been. Notwithstanding (what I conceive 
 to be) all his enthusiasm and wrong opinions, he 
 certainly was a venerable character who served 
 his God and the King faithfully. 
 
 Being much dissatisfied wit,h myself for insert- 
 
ing these Letters in my Life, lest by this means 
 I should have (although unintentionally) helped 
 to spread abroad a false opinion of a good man, I 
 sent for Dr. Whitehead's life of Mr. J. Wesley, 
 and by the Doctor's account of his death, I am 
 fully convinced that his life was uniformly consist- 
 ent with the opinion which I had formed of his 
 character ; and whoever will take the trouble to 
 look over that part of the work will, with me, be 
 convinced that those two letters which are ascri- 
 bed to him, were fabricated to answer some base 
 purpose. 
 
 Tread on his ashes still, ye ruffians, tread ; 
 By venal lies defame the sacred dead ; 
 With Satan still your feeble malice show, 
 The last poor efforts of a vanquished foe ; 
 T' arraign a saint deceased profanely dare, 
 But look to meet him at the last great bar, 
 And horribly recant your hellish slander there 
 
 Elegy on R. Jones, Esq. 
 
 I will transcribe the account of his death, vol. 
 ii. page 454. Tuesday, March 1, 179 1, '' In the 
 forenoon he said, \ I will get up.' While they 
 were preparing his clothes, he broke out in a 
 manner that astonished all who were about him, 
 in singing. 
 
 " Til praise my Maker while I've breath, 
 And when my voice is lost in death, 
 
 Praise shall employ my nobler powers ; 
 My days of praise shall ne'er be past, 
 While life, and thought, and being last, 
 
 Or immortality endures !" 
 
137 
 
 u Having got him into his chair, they observed 
 him change for death. But he, regardless of his 
 dying body, said with a weak voice, ( Lord, Thou 
 givest strength to those who can speak, and those 
 who cannot. Speak, Lord, to all our hearts, and 
 let them know that thou loosest tongues.' He 
 then sung, 
 
 " To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 " Who sweetly all agree" — 
 
 " Here his voice failed. After gasping for 
 breath, he said, i Now we have done all.' He 
 was then laid on the bed, from whence he rose no 
 more. After resting a little, he called to those 
 who were with him, i To pray and praise/ Soon 
 after he said, ' Let me be buried in nothing but 
 what is woollen ; and let my corpse be carried in 
 my coffin, into the chapel.' And again called upon 
 them to ' pray and praise ;' and taking each by 
 the hand, and affectionately saluting them, bade 
 them farewell. Attempting afterwards to say 
 something, which they could not understand, he 
 paused a little, and then, with all the remaining 
 strength he had, said, i The best of all is, God 
 is with us.' Again, lifting his hand, he repeated 
 the same words in a holy triumph, < The best of 
 all is, God is with us.' Something being given 
 him to moisten his lips, he said, ' It will not do j 
 we must take the consequence. Never mind the 
 poor carcase.' Being told that his brother's wi- 
 dow was come, he said, ; He giveth his servants 
 rest ;' thanked her as she pressed his hand ; and 
 affectionately endeavoured to kiss her. His lips 
 M2 
 
133 
 
 being again wet, he repeated his usual grace after 
 a meal ; We thank thee, O Lord, for these and 
 all thy mercies : bless the church and king ; 
 grant us truth and peace, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord.' After some pause, he said, S The 
 clouds drop fatness. The Lord is with us. The 
 God of Jacob is our refuge.' He again called them 
 to prayer, and appeared fervently to join in their 
 petitions. 
 
 " Most of the following night he often attempt- 
 ed to repeat the psaim before mentioned ; but 
 could only get out, < Til praise.' — I'll praise.' On 
 Wednesday morning his end drew near. Mr. 
 Bradford, his old and faithful friend, who, with 
 the affection of a son, had attended him many 
 years, now prayed with him ; and the last word 
 he was heard to articulate was i farewell.' 
 
 " A few minutes before ten, on the second day 
 of March, while a number of his friends were 
 kneeling round his bed, died Mr. John Wesley y 
 without a groan. He was in the eighty-eighth 
 year of his age ; had been sixty-five years in the 
 ministry ; and the preceding pages will be a last- 
 ing memorial of his uncommon zeal, diligence, 
 and usefulness in his Master's work, for more 
 than half a century. His death was an admirable 
 close of so laborious and useful a life." 
 
 In reviewing Mr. Wesley's character, Di\ 
 Whitehead quotes (page 469) what Dr. Johnson 
 said of him, viz. u Mr. Wesley's conversation is 
 good ; he talks well on any subject ; I could con- 
 verse with him all night." Page 472, " His (Mr. 
 Wesley's) liberality to the poor knew no bounds, 
 bu: an empty pocket. He gave away, not merely 
 
 
159 
 
 a certain part of his income, but all he had ; his 
 own wants provided for, he devoted all the rest to 
 the necessities of others. He entered upon this 
 good work at an early period We are told when 
 he had thirty pounds a year, he lived on twenty- 
 eight, and gave away forty shillings. The next 
 year receiving sixty pounds, he still lived en 
 twenty-eight, and gave away two-and-thirty. The 
 third he received ninety pounds, and gave away 
 sixty-two. The fourth year he received one hun- 
 dred and twenty pounds, still he lived on twenty- 
 eight, and gave to the poor ninety-two." In this 
 ratio he proceeded during the rest of his life ; and 
 in the course of fifty years, it has been supposed 
 he gave away between twenty and thirty thousand 
 pounds. 
 
 I have said before in my Memoirs, that he left 
 behind him, at his death, 4/. 10s. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 You re 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd : 
 
 Tho' harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd. 
 
 For letting down the golden chain from high, 
 
 He drew his audience upward to the sky. 
 
 He bore his great commission in his look ; 
 
 Yet sweetly temper'd awe ; and sofVned all he spoke 
 
14U 
 
 ... 
 
 He preach'd the joys of heav'n, and pains of hell ; 
 
 And warn'd the sinner with becoming zeal : 
 
 But on eternal mercy lov'd to dwell. 
 
 His preaching* much, but more his practice wrought; 
 
 (A living sermon of the truths he taught ;) 
 
 For this by rules severe his life he squar'd, 
 
 That all might see the doctrines which they heard ; 
 
 For priests, he said, are patterns for the rest : 
 
 (The gold of heav'n bears the God impress'd) 
 
 But when the precious coin is kept unclean, 
 
 The Sovereign's image is no longer seen. 
 
 If they be foul, on whom the people trust 
 
 Well may the baser brass contract a rust. 
 
 Ever at hand was lie without request, 
 
 To serve the sick, to succour the distress'd : 
 
 Tempting on foot alone, without affright 
 
 The dangers of a dark tempestuous night. 
 
 Such was the saint ; who shone with every graod^ 
 
 Inflecting, Moses-like, his Maker's face. 
 
 God saw his image lively was express'd ; 
 
 And his new work, as in creation, bless'd. 
 
 DRYDEX'S GOOD TARSON. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND^ 
 
 I hope you will excuse me if I give you one 
 letter more on Mr. Wesley, as I think that such 
 an extraordinary person must be interesting to ev- 
 ery curious observer of human nature ; and ha- 
 ving been misled and deceived myself to the pre- 
 judice of his real character, I am the more inter- 
 ested in what concerns him. 
 
 Page 477, Dr Whitehead says, " I shall finish 
 this review of Mr. Wesley's character, with two or 
 three sketches of it drawn up by different per- 
 sons." Now that Mr. John Wesley has finished 
 his course upon earth, I may be allowed to esti- 
 mate his character, and the loss the world ha* 
 
141 
 
 sustained by his death. Upon a fair account, it 
 appears to be such, as not only annihilates all the 
 reproach^ that have been cast upon him ; but 
 such as does honour to mankind, at the same time 
 that it reproaches them. His natural and acqui- 
 red abilities, were both of the highest rank. His 
 apprehension was lively and distinct ; hi3 learn- 
 ing extensive. His judgment, though not infal- 
 lible, -in most cases excellent. His mind was 
 steadfast and resolved. His elocution was ready 
 and clear, graceful and easy, accurate and unaf- 
 fected. As a wilier, his style, though unstudied 
 and flowing with natural ease, yet for accuracy 
 and perspicuity, was such as may vie with the best 
 writers in the English language. Though his 
 temper was naturally warm, his manners were 
 gentle, simple and uniform Never were such 
 happy talents better seconded by an unrelenting 
 perseverance in those courses, which singular 
 endowments, and his zealous love to the interests 
 of mankind marked for him. His constitution 
 was excellent ; and never was a constitution less 
 abused, less-spared, or more excellently applied, 
 in an exact subservience to the faculties of his 
 mind. His labours and studies were wonderful. 
 The latter were not confined to theology oniy, but 
 extended to every subject that tended, either to 
 the improvement, or the rational entertainment of 
 the mind. 
 
 If we consider the reading he discovered by it- 
 self, his writing, and his other labours by them- 
 selves, any one of them will appear sufficient to 
 have kept a person of ordinary application, busy 
 during the who 1 - of his life. In short, the trail* 
 
142 
 
 sactions of his life could never have been per- 
 formed, without the utmost exertion of two quali- i 
 ties ; which depended not upon his capacity, but 
 on the uniform steadfastness of his resolutions. 
 These were inflexible temperance, and unexam- 
 pled economy of time. In these he was a pattern 
 to the a^e he lived in ; and an example, to what a 
 surprizing extent a man may render himself use- 
 ful in his generation, by temperance and punctu- 
 ality. His friends and followers have no reason 
 to be ashamed of the name of Methodist he has 
 entailed upon them : as, for an uninterrupted 
 course of years, he has given the world an in- 
 stance of the possibility of living without wasting 
 a single hour, and of the advantage of a regular 
 distribution of time, in discharging the important 
 duties and purposes of life. Few ages have more 
 needed such a public testimony of the value of 
 time ; and perhaps none have had a more conspic- 
 uous example of the perfection, to which the im- 
 provement of it may be carried. 
 
 " As a minister his labours were unparalleled, 
 and such as nothing could have supported him 
 under, but the warmest zeal for the doctrine he 
 taught, and for the eternal interests of mankind. 
 He studied to be gentle, yet vigilant and faithful 
 towards all. He possessed himself in patience, 
 and preserved himself unprovoked, nay, even un- 
 ruffled in the midst of persecution, reproach, and 
 all manner of abuse, both to his person and name. 
 But let his works praise him. He now enjoys 
 the fruits of his labours, and that praise which he 
 fought, not of men, but of God. 
 
its 
 
 " To finish the portrait. Examine the tenor oj 
 his life, and it will be found self-evidently incon- 
 sistent with his being a slave to any one passion dr 
 pursuit, that can fix a blemish on his character* 
 Of what use were the accumulations of wealth to 
 hira, who, through his whole course, never al- 
 lowed himself t© taste the repose of indolence, or 
 even of the common indulgence in the use of the 1 
 necessaries of life. Free from the partiality of 
 any party, the sketcher of this excellent charac- 
 ter, with a friendly tear, pays it as a just tribute to 
 the memory of so great and good a man, who 
 when alive was his friend. " 
 
 Page 479, Dr. Whitehead says, " The follow- 
 ing, so far as it goes, is an accurate and beautiful 
 picture of this extraordinary man." 
 
 " Very lately, I had an opportunity, for some 
 days together, of observing Mr. Wesley with at- 
 tention. I endeavoured to consider him, not so 
 much with the eye of a friend, as with the impar- 
 tiality of a philosopher ; and I must declare, every 
 hour I spent in his company, afforded me fresh 
 reasons for esteem and veneration. So fine an 
 old man I never saw. The happiness of his mind, 
 beamed forth in his countenance. Every look 
 shewed how fully he enjoyed * The gay remen> 
 brance of a life well spent:' and wherever h» 
 went, he diffused a portion of his own felicity. 
 Easy and affable in his demeanour, he accommo- 
 dated himself to every sort of company, and 
 shewed how happily the most finished courtesy 
 may be blended with the most perfect piety. In 
 Ms conversation j we might be at a loss whether to 
 
1 4.4 
 
 admire most his fine classical taste, his exten- 
 sive knowledge of men and things, or his over- 
 flowing goodness of heart. . While the grave and 
 serious were charmed with his wisdom, his sport- 
 ive sailies of innocent mirth delighted even the 
 young and thoughtless ; both saw in his uninter- 
 rupted cheerfulness, the excellency of true reli- 
 gion. >Jo cynical remarks on the levity of youth, 
 embittered his disccurses : no applausive retro- 
 spect to past times, marked his present discon- 
 tent, in him, even old age appeared delightful, 
 like an evening without a cloud ; and it was im- 
 possible to observe him without wishing fervently, 
 4 may my latter end be like his !' 
 
 " I find myself unequal to the task of delineat- 
 ing such a character. What I have said, may to 
 some appear as panegyric ; but there are num- 
 bers, and those of taste and discernment too, who 
 can bear witness to the truth, though by no means 
 to the perfectness of the sketch I have attempted. 
 With such I have been frequently in company ; 
 and every one of them, lam persuaded, would 
 subscribe to all I have said. For my own part, I 
 never was so happy as while with him, and scarce- 
 ly ever felt more poignant regret than at parting 
 "with him ; for well I knew, ' I ne'er should look 
 upon his like again.' 
 
 I cannot forbear giving a part of another por- 
 trait which Dr. Whitehead has introduced in his 
 work. 
 
 " His indefatigable zeal in the discharge of his 
 duty, has long been witnessed by the world ; but, 
 as mankind are not always inclined to put a gene-, 
 rous construction on the exertion of singular ta- 
 
145 
 
 jents, his motives were imputed to the iove of po- 
 pularity, ambition, and lucre. It now appears he 
 was actuated by a disinterested regard to the irn> 
 mortal interest of mankind. He laboured, and 
 studied, and preached, and wrote, to propagate, 
 what he believed to be the gospel of Christ. The 
 intervals of those engagements were employed in 
 governing and regulating the concerns of his nu- 
 merous societies ; assisting the necessities, solv- 
 ing the difficulties, and soothing the afflictions of 
 3iis hearers. He observed so rigid a temperance, 
 and allowed himself so little repose, that he seem- 
 ed to be above the infirmities of nature, and to act 
 independently cf the earthly tenement he occu- 
 pied. 
 
 " The recital of the occurrences of every day 
 of his life would be the greatest encomium. 
 
 " Had he loved wealth, he might have accu- 
 mulated without bounds. Had he been fond of 
 power*, his influence would have been worth court- 
 ing by any party. I do not say he was without 
 ambition ; h& had that which Christianity need not 
 blush at, and which virtue is proud to confess. I 
 do not mean that which is grafted on splendour 
 and large possessions ; but that which commands 
 the hearts and affections, the homage and grati- 
 tude, of thousands. For him they felt sentiments 
 of veneration, only inferior to those they pay to 
 heaven : to him they looked as their father, their 
 benefactor, their guide to glory and immortality : 
 for him they fell prostrate before God, with pray- 
 ers and tears, to spare his doom, and prolong his 
 stay. Such a recompence as this is sufficient to 
 £epay the toils of the longest life, SJjo,rt of tMfr 
 N 
 
146 
 
 greatness is contemptible impotence. Before this, 
 lofty prelates bow, and princes hide their dimi- 
 nished heads. 
 
 " His zeal was not a transient blaze, but a 
 steady and constant flame. The ardor of his spi- 
 rit was neither clamped by difficulty, nor subdued 
 by age. This was ascribeol by himself, to the 
 power of Divine grace ; by the world to enthusi- 
 asm. Be it what it will, it is what philosophers 
 must envy, and infidels respect ; it is that which 
 gives energy to the soul, and without which there 
 can be no greatness or heroism. 
 
 " Why should we condemn that in religion, 
 which we applaud in every other profession or 
 pursuit ? He had a vigour and elevation of mind, 
 which nothing but the belief of the Divine favour 
 and presence could inspire. This threw a lustre 
 round his infirmities, changed his bed of sickness 
 into a triumphal car, ana made his exit an afiolhe- 
 osis rather than a dissolution. 
 
 " He was qualified in every branch of literature: 
 lie was well versed in the learned tongues, in 
 Metaphysics, in Oratory, in Logic, in Criticism, 
 and every requisite of a Christian minister. His 
 style was nervous, clear, and manly ; his preach- 
 ing was pathetic and persuasive ; his Journals are 
 artless and interesting ; and his compositions and 
 compilations to promote knowledge and piety, 
 were almost innumerable. 
 
 " I do not say he was without faults, or above 
 itiistakes ; but they were lost in the multitude of 
 his excellencies and virtues. 
 
 " The great purpose of his life was doing good : 
 for this he relinquished all honor and preferment ; 
 
147 
 
 to this he dedicated all the powers of body and 
 mind ; at all times and in all places, in season and 
 out of season, by gentleness, by terror, by argu- 
 ment, by persuasion, by reason, by interest, by 
 every motive and every inducement, he strove 
 with unwearied assiduity, to turn men from the 
 error of their ways, and awaken them to virtue and 
 religion. To the bed of sickness, or the couch of 
 prosperity ; to the prison, the hospital, the house 
 of mourning, or the house of feasting, wherever 
 there was a friend to serve, or a soul to save, he 
 readily repaired ; to administer assistance or ad- 
 vice, reproof or consolation. He thought no office 
 too humiliating, no condescension too low, no un- 
 dertaking too arduous, to reclaim the meanest of 
 God's offspring. The souls of all men were e- 
 qually precious in his sight, and the value of an 
 immortal creature beyond all estimation. He 
 penetrated the abodes of wretchedness and igno- 
 rance, to rescue the profligate from perdition ; 
 and he communicated the light of life to those who 
 sat in darkness and in the shadow ol death. He 
 changed the outcasts of society, into useful mem- 
 bers ; and civilized even savages, and filied those 
 lips with prayer and praise, that had been accus- 
 tomed only to oaths and imprecations. But as the 
 strongest religious impressions are apt to become 
 languid without discipline and practice, be divided 
 his people into classes and bands, according to 
 their attainments. He appointed frequent meet- 
 ings for prayer and conversation, where they gave 
 an account of their experience, their hopes and 
 fears, their joys and troubles ; by which means 
 they were united to each other, and to their com- 
 
148 
 
 mon profession. They became centihels upon 
 each other's conduct, and securities for each other's 
 character. Thus the seeds he sowed sprang up 
 and flourished, bearing the rich- fruits of every 
 grace and virtue. Thus he governed and preserv- 
 ed his numerous societies, watching their improve- 
 ment with a paternal cam, and encouraged them 
 to be fuithful to the end." 
 
 Page 484. " The figure of Mr. Wesley was re- 
 markable. His stature was low ; his habft of bo- 
 dy In every ^period of life, the reverse of corpulent, 
 and expressive of strict temperance, and continu- 
 al exercise; and notwithstanding his small size, 
 his step was firm, and his appearance, till within 
 a few years of his death, vigorous and muscular. 
 His face, for an old man, was one of the finest Ave 
 have seen. A clear, smooth forehead ; an aqui- 
 line nose, an eye the brightest and most piercing 
 that can be conceived, and a freshness of com- 
 plexion scarcely ever to be found at his years, and 
 impressive of the most perfect health, conspired 
 to render him a vencrabie and interesting figure. 
 Few have seen him without being struck with his 
 appearance : and many, who had been greatly 
 prejudiced against him, have been known to change 
 their opinion* the moment they were introduced 
 into his presence. In his countenance and de- 
 meanor, there was a cheerfulness mingled with 
 "gravity ; a sprightliness, which was the natural 
 result of an unusual flow of spirits, and yet was 
 accompanied with every mark of the most serene 
 tranquility. His aspect, particularly his profile, 
 
149 
 
 had a strong character of accuteness and penetra- 
 tion. 
 
 " In his dress, he was a pattern of neatness and 
 simplicity. A narrow, plaited stock, a ccat with a 
 small upright collar, no buckles at his knees, no 
 silk or velvet in any part of his apparel, and a 
 head as white as snow gave an idea of something 
 primitive and appostolic ; while an air of neatness 
 and cleanliness was diffused over his whole per- 
 son." 
 
 Perhaps I cannot conclude this letter better than 
 with the following lines : 
 
 A dying saint can true believers mourn ? 
 
 Joyful they see their friend to heaven return : 
 
 His animating words their souls inspire, 
 
 And bear them upwards on his car of lire : 
 
 His looks, when language fails, new life impart , 
 
 Heaven in his looks and Jesus in his heart ; 
 
 He feels the happiness that cannot fade, 
 
 With everlasting joy upon his head, 
 
 Starts from the flesh, and gains his native skies ; 
 
 Glory to God on high !— the Christian dies ! 
 
 Dies from the world, and quits his earthly clod : 
 
 Dies, and receives the crown by Christ bestow'd, 
 
 Dies into all the life and plenitude of God 
 
 Wesley. 
 
 X 2 
 
l.)0. 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 Lord 1 I take thee at thy word, 
 
 ' My wickedness I mourn ; 
 1 Unto thee, my bleeding" Lord, 
 
 ' However late, I turn : 
 f Yes ; I yield, I yield at last, 
 
 1 Listen to thy speaking" blood, 
 'Me, with all my sins I ca»t 
 
 ' On my atoning God/ 
 
 BEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I H WE lately^ on more than one OGcask/ii, 
 been obliged to subscribe to the truth of the 
 words of Christ. If any man will do the will of 
 my Father, he shall know of the doctrine which I 
 teach whether it be of God. I am more than ever 
 convinced, that if we do not love darkness rather 
 than light, this light will shine more and more ofi 
 our miuds, and dispel the mists and darkness in 
 which we are by nature and sin enveloped, and 
 that the perfect day will at last burst forth on our • 
 souls ; and then it is that we understand the 
 meaning of these words, In my light ye shall see 
 light. I have before, in part, informed you, that 
 for some time past I have been made willing, and 
 very desirous of not only knowing the will of God, j 
 but also of doing it. And by the grace of God | 
 I have also, for some time, been able to live so- I 
 berly, righteously, and godly in this sinful world, 
 regardless of the sneers, laughs and jokes of my 
 thoughtless acquaintance. In proportion as the I 
 concern for my own salvation sunk deeper in my j 
 •mind, the more was I affected in reflecting on the j 
 
15, 
 
 condition of my fellow creatures around me : the 
 following lines have oftenbeen mournfully repeal- 
 ed by me : 
 
 ' Ye simple souls that stray, 
 
 * Far from the path of peace, 
 
 ' (That lonely, unfrequented way) 
 
 * To life and happiness. 
 
 * Why will ye folly love, 
 
 * And throng the downward read, 
 
 * And hate the wisdom from above ., 
 6 And mock the sons of God !' 
 
 About twelve months since I sent for some 
 cheap religious books, viz. The whole Duty of 
 Man, the Great Importance of a religious life, 
 Baxter's Call to the Unconverted, Brown's His- 
 tory and Doctrine of the New' Testament, Gil- 
 pin's Lives of Truman, Atkins and Baker, and 
 various others ; some of which I gave away, 
 others I left at a poor man's house to be by him 
 lent to such of the farmers, or poor people, as 
 would read them. And I had reason to think 
 that some little good was done, by thus giving 
 them- an opportunity of reading without any ex- 
 pence. 
 
 To some young men who I thought would 
 not read religious books, I lent Robinson Cru- 
 soe's Adventures, and some other moral and en- 
 tertaining works, in order to employ them in the 
 Printer evenings, and by this means prevent them 
 from spending their evenings in bad company 
 For young women I got Susan Gray, The Work* 
 c, &c. I also got many of a cheap edition 
 of Addison's Evidences of the Christian Religion, 
 
152 
 
 and some of Watson's Apology for the Bible, in 
 Letters to T. Paine ; these I put into the hands of 
 freethinkers ; and I believe they made some im- 
 pression on their minds. I now saw that it was 
 my duty, when opportunity offered, to point out 
 the dreadful consequences of persisting in a wick- 
 ed course of life, and of neglecting eternal con- 
 cerns ; and I perceived that those reproofs, and 
 serious observations, made some little alteration 
 in the conduct of several. 
 
 Last summer, being in Taunton, at the house 
 of Mr. J. Smith, brother to my first wife, his son 
 brought in a parcel of those religious tracts which 
 are published by the Religious Tract Society, and 
 sold cheap by T. Williams, Stationer's-court, 
 Ludgate-street, London. I had heard before that 
 there was such a society established, but knew 
 not where their tracts could be had ; nor did I 
 know that they were such as were proper to be put 
 into the hands of the poor ; so that I was much 
 pleased with an opportunity of procuring some of 
 them. I took one of each of more than thirty 
 sorts ; and when I got home, Mrs. L. and I read 
 them over together, in order to know if they were 
 proper to be dispersed abroad, and whether they 
 %vere calculated to do good to such as shouM read 
 them. In going through these pamphlets, I found 
 that although the compilers had carefully avoided 
 a party spirit, and appeared to be influenced by a 
 love to their fellow-creatures, and a desire to pro- 
 mote the interest of religion in general, more 
 than that of any sect or party in particular , vet I 
 thought that in several of them inward religion 
 was too much insisted upon. Although I looked 
 *pon myself as a member of the church of Eng- 
 
153 
 
 , yet I dkl not approve of that tract entitled, 
 " The Good Old Way, or the Religion of our 
 Forefathers, as explained in the Articles, Liturgy, 
 and Homilies of the Church of England, briefly 
 displaying Man's Ruinhy Sin ; his Recovery ef- 
 fected by Christ ; and his Gratitude, expressed 
 by obedience." Over the title of this I wrote, 
 " methodistical," and would not send for one of 
 them ; on several others 1 wrote, " rather me- 
 thodistical," and of such I sent but for a few, and 
 those I intended for some of the most ignorant 
 and the most hardened : for I was not so much 
 prejudiced against the Methodists as to wish my 
 fellow-creatures to live in sin andigrorance rather 
 than become Methodists, but could have been 
 heartily glad to have seen the bulk of mankind 
 turn Methodists, rather than continue to live as 
 though they were not accountable creatures, — as 
 though there was no future state, in which the 
 wicked will be punished, and the righteous re- 
 warded ; or, hi other words, where every man 
 shall receive according as his works have bce?i, 
 whether good or bad. Still I was not thoroughly 
 sensible of man's utter inability to do any thing of 
 himself towards his acceptance with God ; that 
 salvation is by grace, and justification by faith in 
 the blood of Christ; of having peace with God, 
 and an assurance of his pardoning mercy ; and 
 the love of God shed abroad in our hearts. These 
 were subjects that did not much please me. I 
 did not at this time deny that a very few of the* 
 highly favoured people of God might, possibly, 
 be blessed with the knowledge of their being re- 
 conciled to God ; but as to its being the common 
 
154 
 
 privilege of real believers, was what I could no 
 believe. 
 
 The reading of those tracts increased the seri- 
 ous impressions which had been made before on 
 my mind ; and as 1 thought that most of them 
 were, upon the whole, well calculated to awaken 
 my poor neighbours in the villages around, to a 
 aense of their wicked way of life, I sent for about 
 three thousand of them, and many of them I 
 have already given away to the farmers, labour- 
 ers, soldiers, &c. The more I employed my 
 time and money in attempts to be serviceable to 
 the souls and bodies of my fellow creatures, the 
 more I was disposed towards religious duties, and 
 enabled to enter into the spirit of religion, and I 
 wished for the mind that was in Christ with some 
 degree of ardor. Mrs. L. also partook much of 
 the same disposition ; so that no books now pleased 
 us so well as those that treated of divine subjects. 
 We had, some time before this, given up npvels, 
 romances, and books of a trifling nature. Now 
 we even neglected history, voyages and travels, 
 Sec. not that we thought it wrong to read them, 
 but because we found more pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion while engaged with those that treated of di- 
 vine truths and religious duties* We were sen- 
 sible that we wanted continually to be put in mind 
 of what we owed to God and our neighbour. 
 
 In a former ietter I told you that I sent for Mr. 
 Wesley's Life ; but I did not inform you of some 
 particulars relating to that circumstance. About 
 a year ago, a respectable clergyman frequently 
 called on me, and I told him that I was sorry that 
 
 . 
 
 
155 
 
 I had inserted in my Memoirs the two letters that 
 were ascribed to Mr. Wesley. He joined with 
 me in wishing that I had not been so imposed 
 upon. Not long after this he brought from Bris- 
 tol Dr. Whitehead's Life of Mr. Wesley, 2 vols. 
 8 vo. I having expressed a wish to see in what 
 state of mind Mr. Wesley died. After having satis- 
 fied myself on that head, I returned the set of 
 books as I had no intention to read any more of 
 the work, but the account of his death. In Spring 
 last, I wished again to see the account of his 
 death, and I sent to the Temple of the Muses for 
 the work ; and after I had again read the account 
 of his death, and his character, as drawn by seve- 
 ral hands, and transcribed them as in two former 
 letters you have seen, I put by the set of books, 
 having no inclination to be made acquainted with 
 his ministerial proceedings. But after having 
 read such a number of tracts, as mentioned above, 
 and various volumes in divinity, and much in the 
 bible, I again took up Dr. Whitehead's Life of 
 Mr. Wesley, and as I saw by the title page, that 
 it contained an account of Mr. Wesley's ances- 
 tors and relations, the life of Mr. Charles Wesley, 
 (whom I had often heard preach,) and a history of 
 Methodism, I requested Mrs. L. to help me in 
 reading it through. 
 
 To describe the conflict, and the different com- 
 motions which passed in my mind while we were 
 reading this excellent work, is impossible. I 
 have been instructed, delighted, much confound- 
 ed, and troubled. That divine power which has 
 been felt by thousands and tens of thousands under 
 
 i 
 
156 
 
 the preaching of Mr. Wesley, his brother Charles* 
 and others of his preachers, again humbled me 
 in the dust. I sunk down at the feet of Christ, 
 and washed them with my tears. Sorrow, joy and 
 love, were sweetly mingled together in my soul. 
 I once more, after so many years, knew a little 
 of what these lines express : 
 
 * The godly grief, the pleasing smait: ; 
 1 The meltings of a broken heart ; 
 
 1 The seeing eye, the feeling sense, 
 1 The mystic joy of penitence. 
 
 * The guiltless shame, the sweet distress, 
 
 * Th' unutterable tenderness, 
 
 * The genuine, meek humility, 
 
 5 The wonder, c why such love to me V 
 
 c The overwhelming power of saving grace, 
 c The sight that veils the seraph's face, 
 
 * The speechless awe that dares not move, 
 
 * And all the silent heaven of love.' 
 
 I was now convinced that the pardoning love of 
 God, which forty years since was first manifested 
 to my soul, was a divine reality, and not the ef- 
 fect of a heated imagination. Thousands, and 
 tens of thousands, who are gone to glory, have 
 borne testimony to the truth of this doctrine; and 
 I learn that there are still tens of thousands of 
 Jiving witnesses to the same glorious truth) and 
 can joyfully sing 
 
 Thy mighty name salvation is, 
 And keeps my happy soul above, 
 Comfort it brings, and power and peace* 
 
\5T 
 
 -And everlasting love : 
 To mc with thy dear name arc given 
 I'ardon, and holiness, and heaven. 
 
 jesus, my all in all thou art, 
 My rest in toil, my ease in pain, 
 
 The mecl'cine of my broken heart ; 
 In war my peace, in loss my gain, 
 
 TVJy smile beneath the tyrant's frown, 
 
 In shame my glory and my crown. 
 
 i am, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your 5 ?. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 O ye cold-hearted, frozen, formalists ! 
 On such a theme, 'tis impious to be calm ; 
 Passion is reason, transport temper, here. 
 Shall heav'n, which gave us ardor, and has she \ 
 Her own for man so strongly, not disdain 
 "What smooth emollients in theology 
 Tlecumbent virtue's downy doctors preach, 
 That prose of piety, a lukewarm praise ! 
 Rise odours sweet from incense uninflam; \i P 
 Devotion, when lukewarm, is un devout ; 
 But when it glows, its heat is struck to heav'n ; 
 To human hearts the golden harps are strung ; 
 High heav'n's orchestra chaunts amen to man, 
 
 Talk £hey .of morals ? O, thou bleeding kve f 
 The grand morality is love of thee. 
 Thou most indulgent^ most tremendous pow'r ! 
 O 
 
158 
 
 Still more tremendous for thy wondrous love 1 
 That arms, with awe more awful thy commands ; 
 And foul transgression dips in sev'nfold night ; 
 How our hearts tremble at thy love immense ! 
 In love immense inviolably just ! 
 Thou, rather than thy justice should be stain'd^ 
 Didst stain the cross ,■ and work of wonders far 
 The greatest ! that thy dearest far might bleed. 
 
 YOUNG. 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 DIVINE truths now rush'd upon me like a 
 flood, and swept awav all objections. I 
 
 I 
 
 ' Feel the great truths, which burst the tenfold night 
 ' Of heathen error, with a golden flood 
 c Of endless day : To feel, is to be fir'd j 
 ' And to believe, Lorenzo, is to feei.' 
 
 I am at last constrained to acknowledge, that 
 the mighty power of Gjpd has been manifested 
 from the beginning amongst the Methodists ; and 
 that the same Almighty arm is still exerted in 
 overturning the kingdom of darkness. Sinners 
 are still brought from darkness to light ; and res- 
 cued from the power of sin and Satan. God is 
 still adding daily to his church such as shall be 
 saved. It is built on a rock, the Rock of Ages ; 
 nor have the powers of earth and hell been able to 
 prevail against it. 
 
 ■ The Lord is King, and earth submits. 
 
 ' Howe'er impatient of his sway : 
 • Between the cherubim he sits, 
 
 ' And makes his restless foes obey. 
 
159 
 
 1 All power is to our Jesus given ; 
 
 4 O'er earth's rebellious sons he reigns ; 
 ' He mildly rules the hosts of heaven, 
 
 * And holds the powers of hell in chains.' 
 
 I now can scarcely think it possible for an un- 
 prejudiced person to read the Life of Mr. Wes- 
 ley, and not acknowledge that the path he took, 
 and ever after continued in, was pointed out by 
 the finder of God. By going out into the streets, 
 highways and hedges, and calling sinners to re- 
 pentance, and preaching salvation by grace to a 
 lost world, what countless numbers have thrown 
 down the weapons of their rebellion, and enlisted 
 under the banner of the cross. Sinners of every 
 description have been compelled to come in. Old, 
 daring, hardened sinners have been made humble 
 and gentle as lambs. The wise, in the things of 
 this world, have given up their wisdom, and have 
 become reachable as little children. The self- 
 righteous have been brought trembling to the foot 
 of the cross, where they gladly accept of pardon 
 and salvation as the free, unmerited gift of God 
 through Christ ; and feelingly join in singing, 
 
 I the chief of sinners am ; 
 Yet Jesus died for me ! 
 
 I am astonished that no more of those good, 
 well-meaning ministers, (for many such trie re 
 are, both in the church of England and also 
 amongst the Dissenters,) who have a concern for 
 the welfare; of mankind, and would gladly turn sin- 
 ners from the error of their ways, but yet from 
 year to year, and even for ten, twenty, thirty, or 
 
160 
 
 forty years together, keep en preaching without 
 ever converting one soul to God, or even making 
 any serious and lasting impressions on their con- 
 gregations, are not convinced that there must be 
 something materially defective in their ministra- 
 tions. They see the drunkard still gets drunk ; 
 they hear the swearer blaspheme as much as ever; 
 they see the sribbath-day still profaned ; fornica- 
 tion and adultery are still practised ; the unholy 
 continues unholy still , parents still bring up their . 
 children in forgetfulness of their Creator, and the 
 things of another world. 
 
 In short, when they die, they leave the poor 
 creatures over whom they were overseers, in as 
 bad, or worse state than they found them* 
 
 How is it that such men do not reflect, and see 
 that something must be fatally wrong either in the 
 matter or manner of their preaching ? 
 
 These gentlemen will occasionally dwell on the 
 inefficacy of moral philosophy to reform man- 
 kind. They will point out the deplorable state 
 which the heathen world was in before Christ 
 came. They will clearly prove that the doctrines. 
 taught by Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, and Epic- 
 fcetus, did but very iiule towards the reformation 
 of manners. They will also, sometimes, treat of 
 the wonderful effects produced by preach mg of 
 Christ crucified ; and some ol those will preach 
 sermons, where the name of Christ is not once 
 introduced. They seem to have forgotten him : 
 and Plato's Commonwealth, Plutarch's Morals, 
 and Tally's ©fTices, are substituted for the New 
 Testament, They forget 
 
161 
 
 — >< The gftat truths which burst the tenfold night 
 * Of heathen error, with a golden flood 
 ' Of endless day.' 
 
 Talk they of morals ? Oh, thou bleeding love ! 
 The grand morality is love of thee. youncs. 
 
 " It is said, that when Baxter first came to Kid- 
 derminster, he found it overrun with ignorance 
 and profaneness. He found but a single house or 
 two, that used daily family prayfcr in a whole 
 street ; and, at his going away, but one family or 
 two could be found, in some streets, that conti- 
 nued in the neglect of it. And on the Lord's day, 
 instead of the open profanation to which they had 
 been so long' accustomed, a person in passing 
 through the town, in the intervals of public wor- 
 ship, might overhear hundreds of families engag- 
 ed in singing psalms, reading the scriptures, or 
 other good books, or such sermons as they had 
 taken down on hearing them delivered from the 
 pulpit. The number of his stated communicants 
 rose to six hundred ; of whom he himself decla- 
 red, there were not twelve concerning whose sin- 
 cere piety he had notj reason to entertain good 
 hopes. Blessed be God the religious spirit which 
 was thus happily introduced, is yet to be traced 
 in the town and neighbourhood, in some degree." 
 
 The wonderful effects produced by the preach- 
 ing, and other labours of the late Mr. Fletcher, 
 at Madeley, are pretty well known. I wish every 
 minister of the gospel would read his Portrait of 
 St. Paul, as published by Mr. Gilpin. It is an 
 excellent work. The various traits in St. Paul's 
 character are drawn in a masterly manner ; and 
 02 
 
iQj 
 
 au- 
 
 the traits that Mr. Gilpin has given us of the 
 thor, shews that the worth of immortal souls was 
 deeply impressed on his heart, He took heed to 
 himself and his doctrine, as one that was soon to 
 appear before the great Shepherd and Bishop of 
 souls, to give an account of himself and those 
 committed to his care. 
 
 Such as will read that work, a,nd Dr. White- 
 head's Life of Mr. Wesley, must learn that God 
 is still with stich as faithfully dispense his word, 
 and boldly declare that there is no other name 
 given under heaven whereby men can be saved * 
 that other foundation can no man lay than that 
 which is already laid, which is Jesus Christ. It 
 was by thus preaching Christ, that three thousand 
 were converted by one sermon preached by Peter. 
 
 * Jesus, the name high over all 
 
 ' In bell, or earth, or sky ! 
 1 Ang-els and men before ii. fall, 
 ' And devils fear and %. 
 
 * Jesus, the name to sinners de&r, 
 
 1 The name to sinners given ! 
 
 * It scatters all their guilty fear : 
 
 1 It turns their hell to heaven.* 
 
 In Mr, Wesley's Life we learn, that plain 
 men, without any pretension to learning- or great 
 talents, have, by preaching Christ crucified from 
 a real heart-felt love to Christ, and to their fel- 
 low-creatures, seen their labours attended with the 
 most wonderful effects ; sinners have been first 
 pricked to the heart, and after that have been en- 
 abled to believe to the salvation of their sou!?., and 
 
163 
 
 have ever after lived so as to adorn the gospel of 
 Christ in all things ; so that the world have taken 
 knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. 
 The life that they henceforth lived was by the 
 faith of the Son of God, who loved thean, and 
 gave himself for them, to redeem them from * 
 this present evil world, and hereafter from the 
 wrath of God, which is ready to be manifested 
 against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of 
 men. 
 
 1 Jesus the prisoner's fetters breaks, 
 * And bruises Satan's heud ; 
 - * Power into strengthless souls it^peaks 3 
 ' And life into the dead. 
 
 c Kis only righteousness they shew, 
 
 1 His saving* faith proclaim ; 
 * 'Tis all their business here below, 
 
 1 To cry, Behold the Lamb V 
 
 Thus does God by the foolishness of preaching 
 save them that believe. By this " foolish preach- 
 ing," as it is called by the world, the hearts and 
 lives of thousands and tens of thousands have 
 been totally changed ; drunkards became sober ; 
 adulterers became chaste ; the covetous were 
 made liberal ; the extravagant, careful ; and the 
 most ignorant were made wise unto salvation, and 
 able to give a rational account of the religion of 
 • Christ ; the brutish were civilized ; the passion- 
 ate were made gentle ; the proud were made 
 humble and meek ; the cruel and hard-hearted 
 Were made merciful and tender-hearted ; the un- 
 just became just in all their dealings ; slanderers 
 and backbiters were made partakers of that love 
 
164 
 
 that thinketh no evil, hopeth all things belicveth 
 all things, and covereth a multitude of the sins 
 of others; the selfish churl became friendly; 
 liars spoke the truth ; blasphemers became ador- 
 ers of God ; thieves provided things honest in the 
 sight of all men ; rebels became loyal, and pray- 
 ed for the King arid all in .authority ; smuggler s , 
 and their encouragers, learned to render un t0 
 Csesar the things that are Cesar's ; sabbath-break- 
 ers learned to spend the day in religious worship 
 and pious exercises ; the idle became industri- 
 ous. In short, like the apostles, they turned the 
 world upside down, knowledge arose out of igno- 
 rance, order out of confusion, light out of dark- 
 ness, happiness out of misery, heaven out of hell. 
 
 Who can reflect on these wonderful changes 
 without acknowledging that this must be the 
 work of God ? The powers of earth and hell have 
 a thousand times been stirred up against this work 
 in vain. The gates of hell have not been able to 
 prevail against it. It has increased, is increasing, 
 and God grant that it may never be diminished, 
 but increase a thousand fold. 
 
 What says my old friend to all this ? Will you 
 also be his disciple ? Methinks I hear you say, 
 Almost thou persuadest me to be a Methodist. 
 
 '■ O that the world might taste and see 
 
 ' The riches of his grace ! 
 e The arms of love that compass me, 
 
 * Would all mankind embrace. 
 
 < O that my Jesu's heavenly charms 
 4 Might every bosom move ! 
 
165 
 
 ;:ner3, fly into the arms 
 1 Of everlasting" love.' 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Yours. 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 * The weary and burthen'd, the reprobate race 
 ' Alt wait to be pardori'd, thro' Jesus's grace. 
 
 * In Jesu's compassion the sick find a cure : 
 
 1 And gospel salvation is preach' d to the poor.' 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 HAVING those serious views of sacred sub- 
 jects, I was more than ever desirous that the poor 
 ignorant, thoughtless people in my neighbour- 
 hood should be awakened and made sensible of 
 their dreadful state ; but how to effect this I was 
 at a loss : for in giving away the religious tracts, 
 I found that some of the farmers and their chil- 
 dren, and also three-fourths of the poor, could 
 not rea'd ; that some of the farmers hated the 
 clergy- on the score of tythes ; so that some of 
 those that now and then went to church were not 
 likely to receive benefit from those they hated. 
 Others of them would neither go to church them- 
 selves, nor let their families go. Many of the 
 poor also lived in the total neglect of all public 
 worship ; and spent the sabbath, some in ale- 
 houses, others at~pitch~aiu!-toss, fives, and other 
 
166 
 
 games ; some in gossiping near each other's cot- 
 tages, sometimes quarrelling, generally cursing, 
 swearing, talking obscenely, Sec. others employed 
 that day in going from one farmer to another to 
 look at and take jobs of work. 
 
 Such as do go to church, the service being but 
 once in the day, spend the other part of the day 
 in the manner mentioned above. Nor do the 
 farmers in general observe the sabbath any better 
 than the poor ; their time is often taken up in 
 shewing their cattle, sheep, hogs, Sec to butchers'; 
 in letting jobs of work ; in viewing the work that 
 has been clone in the week, or ill pointing out 
 what is to be done the week ensuing ; in visiting 
 each other, and making merry, kc. Our church- 
 yard is called tne market. Here, before and after 
 the service, they talk over the prices that their 
 goods sold for in the week past, and what they in- 
 tend to sell for the next week. 
 
 I was also affected to see the children of the 
 poor brought up in ignorance and vice. About 
 four years since, I and a few of my neighbours 
 began a Sunday Sand day school, yet we found 
 that some could not be prevailed upon to send 
 their children to it, and the few that do come, are 
 'to corrupted by the wicked examples which are 
 set them by their parents, and other children, that 
 very little good is to be expected from that quar- 
 ter. 
 
 After much serious reflection on this general 
 disregard of religion, and moral depravity, I re- 
 solved, if possible, to get some of Mr. Wesley's 
 preachers to come and preach to them. After 
 having been separated from them between thirty 
 
167 
 
 and forty years, and having laughed at and ridicu- 
 led them, you may suppose that my feelings on 
 this occasion were not very pleasant ; but I knew 
 that they had learned of their divine Master to re- 
 turn good for evil, and that they also went about 
 doing good and made it the grand business of their 
 lives to warn sinners to fly from ihe wrath to come; 
 so that at last I went to Thornbury, and found out 
 a gentleman who is a member of their small socie- 
 ty there, and desired that the next preacher that 
 came there would do me the favour of calling on 
 me. On Saturday the 1st of October, 1303, Mr. 
 Ward, one of the preachers in the Dursley cir- 
 cuit, paid me a visit. To this excellent young 
 man 1 communicated my concern for the stupid, 
 poor unhappy wretches around me ; and although 
 he had to preach three times the next day, at 
 nine in the morning and at half past five in the 
 evening at Thornbury, and at Elberton, three or 
 four miles from Thornbury, at two ; and although 
 his health is so much impaired by preaching, that 
 it was lately thought that he never would be able 
 to preach more ; yet this kind-hearted young man 
 cheerfully agreed to, and did preach on a Com- 
 mon called Alveston Down, a quarter of a mile 
 from my house, at eleven o'clock, to about sixty 
 or seventy people, small and great. All were 
 still and attentive. Mrs. L. conversed with some 
 of them afterwards, who expressed thankfulness 
 for having heard a sermon that they could under- 
 stand, as they said that they could net understand 
 the sermons at church, because there were so 
 many fine words in them. Blessed be God the 
 poor have the gospel preached unto them, in a 
 
168 
 
 way that they can understand, in a thousand 
 places in England. And here also, I cannot help 
 remarking, that even while I was an infidel, I 
 often regretted that the clergy did not adapt their, 
 discourses to the capacities of their hearers ; as I 
 have found that many of the farmers," and most 
 of the poor, know very little of what they have e- 
 ver heard preached in most of their parish church- 
 es. I am very confident that not one tenth part of 
 country congregations are able to understand 
 what they hear preached. What a pity it is that 
 the clergy, particularly such as live in the country, 
 do n©t, in their compositions, imitate the fine, 
 plain language of the common prayer-book. But 
 to return from this digression. 
 
 That I should again hear a Methodist preacher 
 under a hedge was matter of surprise ; but what 
 was much more surprising, the preacher gave 
 notice that there would be preaching in my house 
 on the evening of the Friday se'nnight following. 
 This affair has been, and is still, the subject of 
 conversation for many miles around. Letters to 
 various parts of England and Wales have spread 
 this extraordinary news nearly through the king- 
 dom. Perhaps you will be a little surprised when 
 I inform you, that Mrs. L. on the evening before, 
 went about three miles round part of the parish, 
 calling at every cottage in her way, to inform 
 them that a sermon would be preached on the 
 Down the next morning. With this information 
 the poor people were much pleased, and promised 
 her to be there. Mrs. L. also attended the ser- 
 mon. It was the first time she ever heard preach- 
 ing out of a church, She was ? however, much 
 
169 
 
 pleased to hear such an excellent discourse, and 
 one so well adapted to the understandings of the 
 hearers. Mr. Ward, the preacher, is not quite 
 three and twenty years of age, and if he conti- 
 nues to preach as much as he has done for three 
 years past, I fear that he will not live to he much 
 older. But he is so zealous in his Master's cause, 
 so intent on bringing poor lost sinners to Christ, 
 that he cares but little about his body. He is 
 one of Madeley, where Mr. Fletcher was vicar ; 
 and although lie was not converted under his 
 preaching yet he appears to partake much of the 
 same spirit that actuated that extraordinary ser- 
 vant of God I also heard Mr. Ward that day at 
 nine o'clock in the morning, and at half past five 
 in the evening, in Mr. Wesley's chapci in Thorn- 
 bury All his sermons were excellent, and I 
 found it Kvas goal to he there. 
 
 I believe we shoi Id have had a much larger con- 
 gregation on the Down, had not about five hun- 
 dred volunteers been at chat time exerci^in^ about 
 half a mile from where Mr. Ward preached. 
 
 To break the Sabbath seems to be a wrong way 
 to conquer our enemies. Our churches are near- 
 ly empty at those times ; as the people of all de- 
 scriptions are drawn to the place of exercise. 
 There, cakes, gingerbread, &c. are hawked about 
 for sale ; so ih?t it appears more like a fair day* 
 than the Lcrd'sday. 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend; Your's. 
 
170 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 Vain Man r thy wisdom folly ovirn, 
 Lost is thy reason's feeble ray. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING all that I have 
 said against the Methodists in the Memoirs of my 
 Life, an impartial observer may see, even from 
 my own account, that those people were of very 
 great benefit to me. The very great alteration 
 which took place in my life after I first heard them 
 preach, must have been remarked. Before that 
 time, I was a thoughtless, careless wicked boy : 
 from that hour I was totally changed. I then was 
 anxious to learn to read, and it was not long be- 
 fore I constantly read ten chapters in the bible 
 every day. I also read and learned hymns, and 
 religious tracts. For about five years I lived a 
 very religious life ; but through inexperience, I 
 was overcome and carried away by the dissipated 
 scenes of a contested election. After having lived 
 a year in vice, by oply once hearing Mr. Wesley* 
 preach, I was effectually prevailed upon to re- 
 nounce my sinful practices, and was enabled to 
 live in the fear of God. About tw r o years after, I 
 married a very pious woman of Mr. Wesley's 
 society ; and in the midst of great affliction, 
 which involved us in great poverty also, I was 
 not only contented, but frequently experienced 
 such a happiness in my mind, as often rose even 
 to raptures. We had been married only about 
 four years, when this excellent woman died, in 
 
in 
 
 the full assurance of hope.— Although during 
 my wife's illness and death, I lay in a state that 
 was thought to be past recovery, yet even in this 
 situation I was so happy as even to astonish some 
 who visited me. 
 
 The readers of my Life may also recollect, 
 that the Methodists visited me and my wife dur- 
 ing this great affliction : and, my business being 
 at a stand, (in consequence of my having no one 
 to attend to my customers), they lent me money 
 to defray the expences incurred during my long 
 illness, and locked up my shop, to prevent me 
 from being plundered of all I had. I might also 
 mention many other favours that I received from 
 them, which made me say in my Life, that they 
 were " in general a friendly, honest-hearted, sin- 
 cere people." 
 
 I perhaps ought also to observe, that if I had 
 never heard the Methodists preach, in all proba- 
 bility I should have been at this time a poor, rag- 
 ged, dirty cobler, peeping out from under a bulk 
 with a snuffy nose and a long beard ; for it was 
 by their preaching that I was taught to call upon 
 God for his grace to enable me to turn from my 
 .vicious course of life, and through which I be- 
 came a real christian. It was by their means al- 
 so, that I was excited to improve a little my intel- 
 lectual faculties. It was through them that I got an 
 amiable helpmate in my first wife ; and she like- 
 wise will have reason to all eternity to remember 
 the Methodists with gratitude, for having been 
 the instruments of her conversion ; for before 
 she heard them preach, she had not even the form 
 
172 
 
 t>f godliness, much less the power of it. It was 
 also through them that I got thoshop in which I 
 first set up for a bookseller. It is very likely, 
 that had I never heard these people, I should have 
 been now an old drunken, debauched fellow, like 
 the generality of journeymen shoemakers ; and 
 it is well known, that many, very many instances 
 of the same kind might be adduced ; great num- 
 bers by being connected with them have learned 
 to be industrious and frugal, by which means they 
 have been enabled to live in credit, to provide 
 something for their children, and to support them- 
 selves in their old age. 
 
 In my Memoirs, although I have acknowledged 
 that there are many sensible people among the 
 Methodists, yet I have represented many of them 
 as very ignorant. The reason why I thought 
 and represented them as such, is- very evident; 
 the more any people are influenced by religion, 
 the more do they live as strangers and pilgrims 
 upon the earth, the more they have respect to the 
 recommence of reward, the more do they see him 
 that is invisible. The more they possess of the 
 life of God in the sou!, the greater is their confi- 
 dence in the providence of God over their tempo- 
 ral concerns. In proportion as they thus live and 
 act, the more ignorant do they appear to the 
 world in general, and to infidels in particular. So 
 that in fact, the more any persons increase in the 
 filial fear of the Lord, which, if Solomon was a 
 judge, is real wisdom, the more they increase in 
 that wisdom which is from above ; the more they 
 are taught of God, the more ignorant and foolish 
 do they appear to infidels and men of the world', 
 
173 
 
 who in their generation are wiser than the chil- 
 dren of light. 
 
 That many ignorant people have from the be- 
 ginning to the present time, joined the Method- 
 ists, has never been denied. I thank thee, O Fa- 
 ther, saith Christ, that thou hast hid these things 
 from the wise and firudent, and hast revealed them 
 unto babes, even so Father, for so it seemed good 
 in thy sight. You see, saith St. Paul, your callings 
 brethren, how that not many wise men (philoso- 
 phers) after the fiesh ; not many mighty, not many 
 noble, are called. But Ged has chosen the foolish 
 things of the world. The preaching of the doc- 
 trines of the cross for the reformation and salva- 
 tion of mankind, was from the. beginning thought 
 to be foolishness to the philosophers and moral 
 declaimers. Where is the wise ? or the philoso- 
 phers that read lectures of morality ? Where is 
 the scribe ? he that all his life has studied the 
 Mosaic law ? Where is the disputer of this world ? 
 the searcher into the secrets of nature ? Hath not 
 God shewn that all their wisdom is foolishness and 
 ineffectual in the important work of reforming 
 mankind ? May it not be with truth asserted, that 
 honest John Nelson*, the Methodist preacher, 
 did, by preaching Christ crucified, reform more 
 hardened sinners, than were ever reformed by all 
 the moral lectures that were ever read to man- 
 kind ? In St. Paul's days the wise were confound- 
 ed on seeing the wonderful effects that were pro- 
 duced by the preaching of a few plain men. whom 
 they termed fools, because they wanted the learn- 
 ing of the age. Mr. Wesley says, 
 * See John Nelson's Journal. 
 P 2 
 
174 
 
 So wretched and obscure, 
 
 The men whom ye despise, 
 So foolish, impotent and poor, 
 
 Above your scorn we rise, 
 We through the Holy Ghost, 
 
 Can witness better things, 
 For he whose blood is all our boast; 
 
 Hath made us priests and kings. 
 
 That Mr. Wesley's people are a comparatively 
 ignorant people, I am fully convinced is not true ; 
 that the reverse is the fact may be easily shewn. 
 I will begin with the preachers, I suppose all 
 must admit that Mr. Wesley was a sensible, learn- 
 ed man. His brother Charles also possessed con- 
 siderable abilities, and was likewise a learned 
 man. Some of their preachers are also learn- 
 ed men; others of them have great natural abi- 
 lities ; and if we take the whole body of preach- 
 ers together, they will be found to be well versed 
 in the theory as well as the practical part of Chris- 
 tianity, as revealed in the New Testament. And 
 although there is reason to believe, from the ef- 
 fects produced by their preaching, that they are 
 •assisted by the Spirit of God, yet they also know 
 that it is their duty to read and study ; and this 
 Me, Wesley strongly enforced and insisted 
 upon, when he met them in their Conferences, 
 as appears by the minutes of these Conferences. 
 And as those preachers have experienced the 
 power of religion, and live under its influence, it 
 must be allowed, that they are far better qualified 
 to preach the gospel than some others who take 
 up^n them that sacred office. If you are desir- 
 ous to see more on the subject of laymen preach* 
 in^*, read Mr. Wesley's farther Appeal to Men 
 of Reason and Religion) Part 3d. and his excel- 
 
175 
 
 tent sermon on Heb. v. 4. And vo man taketh thin 
 honour to himaetf, but he that is called of God, as 
 ipa* Aaron. In those tracts he has clearly prov- 
 ed, that the Jews, the primitive church, the 
 church of England, and other churches, allowed 
 men to preach that were not priests, nor in holy 
 orders. 
 
 But to return, As to the members in general 
 of the Methodist Society, I never saw any better 
 informed in religious matters. They are better 
 acquainted with the bible, and with the nature 
 and design cT Christianity, than any people I 
 know. The comparison is particularly striking 
 among the poorer sort. In those parts of the 
 kingdom Where Methoilism has long been esta- 
 blished, you will find that the poorest Methodist 
 is able to give you a rational and scriptural ac- 
 count of the effects of the grace of God on the 
 soul ; is well acquainted with the nature of the 
 threatening* and promises contained in the word 
 of God, and knows what he has to hope and fear. 
 I think it is Addison who observes, that religion 
 has a very great tendency to enlarge the intellec- 
 tual faculties of man : as the Methodists do nor 
 waste their time in idleness and diversions, they 
 have more time to read than others ; they also, 
 hear many sermons preached by men of various 
 talents amoDgst themselves ; and many of them 
 strictly attend the service at church ; they also as- 
 sociate, converse with,' and improve one another. 
 So that the difference in degree of knowledge 
 between the poor Methodists and the poor in ge- 
 neral, is very remarkable. Mr. Addison justly 
 remarks, that " The most illiterate man who h 
 
176 
 
 touched with devotion, and uses frequent exer- 
 cises of it, contracts a certain greatness of mind, 
 mingled with a noble simplicity, that raises him 
 above those of the same condition ; and there is 
 an indelible mark of goodness in those who sin- 
 cerely possess it. It is hardly possible it should 
 be otherwise; for the fervours of a pious mind 
 •will naturally contract such an earnestness and 
 attention towards a better Being, as will make the 
 ordinary passages of life go off with a becoming 
 indifference. By this a man in the lowest condi- 
 tion will not appear mean." — But to a caimal mind 
 their knowledge of the things of God appears to 
 be foolishness^ and the greatest realities are thought 
 to be only whims. Spiritual things can only be 
 discerned by one that is spiritually minded. 
 
 ' The thing's unknown to feeble sense. 
 Unseen by reason's glimmering' ray, 
 
 With strong commanding evidence, 
 Their heavenly origin display. 
 
 ■ Faith lends his realizing light, 
 
 The clouds disperse, the shadows fly ; 
 
 Th' Invisible appears in sight, 
 And God is seen by mortal eye.' 
 
 lam, 
 
 Dear Friend, 
 
 Your's. 
 
17/ 
 
 LETTER XXVIL 
 
 i. Lord, with trembling I confess, 
 A gracious soul may fall fi om grace ! 
 The salt may lose its seasoning- power, 
 And never, never find it more. 
 
 c Lest that my fearful case should be., 
 Each momeut knit my soul to thee .- 
 And lead me to the mount above, 
 Thro" the low vale of humble love.' 
 
 BEAR FRIEKD, 
 
 WHEN I look into my Memoirs, I shudder 
 to see what i have done. I have wantonly treated 
 of, and sported with the most solemn and pre- 
 cious truths of the gospel Q God, lay not this 
 sin to my charge 1 Other infidels have obscured, 
 as much as they were able, the external evi- 
 dences of Christianity 3 but 1 made a thrust at 
 its vital part. There are many thousands who 
 never had time or opportunity,, or who have been, 
 somehow or other, prevented from invests i g; 
 the external evidences of the Christian religion, 
 who yet are as much assured of its divine autho- 
 rity as they are of their own existence. They 
 know that Christ is come in the flesh ; that they are 
 born of God ; that they are passed from death unto 
 life ; that they were once blind) that now they see ; 
 that old things are done away, and all things are 
 become new ; that they were once miserable, but 
 are now happy ; they once were without God ini 
 the world, but now by that faith which is the ope- 
 ration of God, the substance qf things hoped for } 
 
1/8 
 
 the evidence of things not seen, by this fireciou 
 faith, they can say my Father and ?ny God. They 
 can call Christ Lord by the Holy Ghost. They 
 know what is the communion of saints, and often 
 sit together in heavenly filaces in Christ Jesus, and 
 are Jilted with the fulness of God ; and they know 
 that when this earthly tabernacle is dissolved, they 
 have a building, not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens. 
 
 It was this internal evidence which made the 
 martyrs triumph in the midst of the flames ; and 
 this evidence, neither the pretended friends, nor 
 the open enemies of Christianity, will ever be able 
 to destroy. Christianity, without this, is a body 
 without a soul. And all those who endeavour to 
 invalidate this internal evidence, are blind, know- 
 ing nothing ; are false s/iies that bring an evil re- 
 port of the good land ; they are in the gall of bit- 
 terness and bonds of iniquity, and have neither part 
 nor lot in the matter ; and, sooner or later, they 
 will be found to be fighters against God. 
 
 Jesus vouchsafe a pitying ray, 
 
 lie thou my Guide, be thou my way, 
 
 To glorious happiness ! 
 Ah ! write the pardon on my heart, 
 And whensoever I hence depart, 
 
 Let me depart in peace. 
 
 I suppose you are ready to ask, how it was 
 possible for me, who once was enlightened, and 
 had tasted the good word of God, and the powers 
 of the world to come ; how was it possible for me 
 to sink into ignorance, blindness and infidelity ? 
 Ah, my friend, nothing i3 more easy. As a real 
 
i79 
 
 christian is one that has been called, out of darkness 
 into mai-vcllous light ; so, as long as his eye is sin- 
 gle, his soul is full of light, and he walks in the light y 
 as God is in the light, and in him is no darkness at 
 all ; yet, if he turn back again into Egypt, he will 
 again be involved in Egyptian darkness. The 
 sun of righteousness will no longer shine upon 
 him. Adam, as soon as he disobeyed his God, at 
 once lost his favour and likeness, and sunk into a 
 state of darkness and ignorance, and attempted 
 to hide himself from the all-seeing eye among the 
 trees. And when a renewed soul falls again to a 
 course of sin, he is at last smitten with blindness, 
 and he gro/ics but cannot find the door. The can* 
 die sf the JLord no more shines upon his head. They 
 are blind, and cannot see afar off ; and have forgot 
 that they were purged from their sins. They will 
 curse, and swear that they know not the man. As 
 they did not like to retain the knowledge of God, he 
 gives them over to blindness and hardness of heart. 
 They have quenched the Spirit, and done despite 
 unto it. They no longer know the things which 
 belong to their peace, they being hid from their 
 eyes. They have eyes that see not^ and ears that 
 hear not. 
 
 This evidence I have attempted to invalidate. 
 God be merciful to me a sinner ! 
 
 Jesus, let thy pitying 1 eve 
 
 Call back a wandering sheep ; 
 False to thee, like Peter, I 
 
 Would fain like Peter weep, 
 
 Let me be by grace restored t 
 On me be all long-suffering; shewn- 
 
120 
 
 Turn, and Icokupen me, Lord, 
 And break, my heart of stone. 
 
 I have, in my ' Life,' said that the Methodists 
 have driven people out of their mind, made them 
 commit suicide, Sec. But I solemnly declare that 
 I never ktzenvan instance of the kind from my own 
 personal knowledge, I fc&ve seen it asserted in 
 pamphlets; wrote against t! cm, and also in news- 
 papers, and I have been toid that such things have- 
 happened ; and upon such kind of evidence I 
 have shamefully followed others in relating those 
 stories v 
 
 In finding tank with the Ivlcthodist preachers 
 for endeavouring to awaken ail such as were never 
 converted, eveny one may see that in blaming 
 them I also blamed the prophets, Christ and his 
 apostles, and also the church of England, and 
 ynost other reformed churches. The Methodist 
 preachers often tell theii hearers, in the words of 
 our church, in her 9th article, That every man is 
 Jar gone from original righteousness ; is of his own 
 nature inclined to evil so that thefesh lusteth always 
 contrary to the Sfiirit ; and the rj ore every per soji 
 born into the world deserveth God's <ivrath and 
 damnation. What the Methodists mean hy con- 
 viction for sin, is the same as our church has set 
 down in the communion service : We do earnestly 
 re/ient, and arc heartily sorry for these our inisdo- 
 ings ? the remembrance of them is grievous unit 
 us : and the burthen is intolerable Have mercy 
 ufion us, have mercy ii/wn us, most merciful Fa 
 ther ; for 'hy ^lon our Lord Jesus Christ's sake, for; 
 give us all that i$/ia§t; and grant that toe may cvt) 
 
181 
 
 hereafter serve and frfease thee in newness of tifc. 
 That which displeases the infidels and pretended 
 christians on this head is, the Methodists insist on 
 the necessity of feeling what wer^f, lest we be 
 found solemn mockers of God. 
 
 In the scripture this conviction is called, being 
 pricked to the heart, under which sinners are con- 
 strained to inquire, What shall we do to be saved ? 
 To cry, God be merciful to me a sinner, &c. And 
 under this conviction David roaredyb?* the disquie- 
 tude of his soul, and watered his bed with his tears, 
 Jeremiah saith, Be not a terror to me. In an- 
 other place, God says, 1 will make thee a terror to 
 thyself Solomon says, The spirit of a man may 
 sustain his (bodily) infirmities ; but a wounded spirit 
 *who can bear. This is what is intended by a con- 
 trite spirit, a broken heart. &c. 
 
 So that what I have pointed out as a dreadful 
 state is, I presume, quite scriptural ; and must 
 be more or less felt by every person before he 
 will see the necessity of coming to Christ for par- 
 don and salvation ; before he can be born again, or 
 converted ; or before he can be justified, as St. 
 Paul says, and as our church says also, before he 
 ever can be changed by the inspiration of his Holy 
 Sjiirit ; before lie can perfectly love God, or wor- 
 thily magnify his holy name. 
 
 But as an infidel I cared for none of these 
 things, and so ridiculed them all. The remem- 
 brance of which has in reality been to me griev- 
 ous, and the burthen intolerable ! May Almighty 
 God make all the inventors, and other wanton re- 
 
 Q 
 
182 
 
 fetters af such stories, feel, before it is too late, 
 the same sorrow and sincere repentance ! and 
 may they also obtain mercy through the all-aton- 
 ing blood of Christ, who forgiveth all manner of 
 sins and blasfihe?nies- of such as truly repent and 
 imfeignedly believe his holy gospel, 
 
 ' After all that I have done, 
 
 Saviour, art thou pacify'd ? 
 "Whither shall my viletiess run ? 
 
 Hide me, earth, the sinner hide f 
 Let me sink into the dust, 
 
 Full of holy shame adore ! 
 Jesus Christ, the good, the just, 
 
 Bids me go and sin no more. 
 
 ' O, confirm the gracious word, 
 
 Jesus, Son of God and Man f 
 Let me never grieve thee, Lord, 
 
 Never turn* to sin again ! 
 Till my all in all thou art ! 
 
 Till thou bring thy nature in, 
 Keep this feeble, trembling heart, 
 
 SaVe me, save me, Lord, from sin V 
 
 I am, 
 
 Dear friend, 
 
 Your? 
 
183 
 
 LETTER XXVIIL 
 
 * Let us join, ('tis God commands,) 
 Let us join our hearts and hands : 
 Help to gain our calling's hope, 
 Build we each the other up.' 
 
 DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 I HAVE represented some of the Method- 
 ists as troublesome obtruders on the sick and dy- 
 ing ; so that I think I ought to set this matter in 
 a clear light-. 
 
 Mr. Wesley's people think that they cannot love 
 their neighbour as themselves, without endeavour- 
 ing to find out every possible way by which they 
 may be serviceable to the souls and bodies of their 
 fellow creatures. In London and Bristol, and I 
 believe in other places, some of their society who 
 are able to pray, instruct, and exhort, endeavour 
 to find out poor distressed objects who are confin- 
 ed to their beds by diseases in poor-houses, pri- 
 sons, lodging houses, dirty lanes, alleys, &c 
 Those poor forsaken outcasts of society they in- 
 struct, exhort, pray with, &c. To objects most 
 in want they give money. Perhaps there cannot 
 be any labour of love more praiseworthy, or more 
 deserving of encouragement, as great numbers of 
 such poor destitute wretches may at all times be 
 found languishing in a forlorn state, and generally 
 die without anyone caring any thing about them : 
 for none but such as are filled with the love of God 
 and man will ever go into such loathsome places 
 
184 
 
 and habitations. I formerly accompanied some 
 of those loving people in this work of mercy, and 
 have witnessed their cheerful performance of this 
 great duty ; which to a poor, selfish, unregene- 
 rate heart would be intolerable. But no labour, 
 however disagreeable or hazardous to health or 
 life, is too much to be performed by such as are 
 thoroughly impressed with the worth of an im- 
 mortal soul ; who are persuaded that Christ tast- 
 ed death for every man, and would that every man 
 should come to the knowledge of the truth and be 
 saved. While they were employed in this solemn 
 work, if they could discover any poor creature 
 that gave them reason to hope for his conversion, 
 O, what love and joy warmed every heart ! The 
 devil knew that Job did not serve God for naught '. 
 Christ still pays his servants well for every thing 
 they do in his name and for his sake. Those peo- 
 ple, when employed in such work as this, which 
 to flesh and blood is not only irksome but shock- 
 ing, yet would not have exchanged the pleasure 
 which they found in it for any earthly enjoyment. 
 To return to the subject. 
 
 It is not only in cities and large towns that the 
 poor die un visited ; but also in many country 
 towns, villages, Sec In the places where I have 
 lived Mi the former part of my life, and where I 
 have had a country-house, or in the various vil- 
 lages round my present residence, I do not recol- 
 lect arvy poor person who had sent for a clergy- 
 man on such an occasion, or of any clergyman 
 that went ivnsent for. Those poor creatures ee~ 
 
1*5 
 
 HePaHy die as stupid and careless as they have 
 lived, When any one of them has any concern 
 about his immortal part, he is afraid to give trou- 
 ble to the vicar or curate, and ashamed to let them 
 witness his poverty and rags. Christ well knew 
 the deplorable state of such poor creatures, and 
 has graciously promised to reward all such as ex- 
 plore their dreary abodes. But as an infidel, I 
 thought all talk about heaven and hell, praying 
 for them, Sec. useless and terrifying ; for which 
 reasoo I exclaimed against such as performed 
 those kind offices. And I recollect that when, 
 about twenty years since, I was thought to be 
 near death, I was so hardened as not to suffer any 
 clergyman to come near me, or any other religious 
 person. 
 
 Weary cf wandering from my God, 
 
 And now made willing to return, 
 I hear, and bow me to the rod ; 
 
 For thee, not without hope, I mourn : 
 I have an advocate above, 
 A friend before the throne of love. 
 
 O, Jesus, full of truth and grace, ' 
 
 More full of grace than I of sin 
 Yet once again I seek thy face, 
 
 Open thy arms -and take me in : 
 And freely my backslidings heal, 
 And love the "faithless sinner still. 
 
 That an avowed unbeliever should refuse to ac- 
 cept any spiritual advice, and not suffer any pray- 
 ers to be put up for him when about to quit the 
 world is not very surprising. But I am persuad- 
 ed that there have been, and still are, very many 
 Q2 
 
who call themselves christians* who urhen thought 
 
 to be on the borders of the invisible world, would 
 not have one word said to them of their real state, 
 much less would they bear any religious advice, 
 or join in prayer. And yet perhaps those very 
 people were such as put off repentance to a sick 
 or death-bed, not considering that the longer they 
 continue in sin the more callous they are made* 
 and that the consciences of many are at last seared 
 as it were vjith a hoi iron, 
 
 * Dead already, dead within, 
 
 Spiritually dead In sin ; 
 
 Dead to God while here they breathe, 
 
 Sfaftfing after second death, 
 
 They will still in sin remain, 
 
 Greedy of eternal pain.' 
 
 You no doubt recollect that I have also ridicul- 
 ed the private meetings established by Mr. Wes- 
 ley among his people. Nor is it at all surprising 
 that a freethinker should hate every means of 
 grace, particularly such as have so great a ten- 
 dency to keep the children of God together, and 
 to promote all inward and outward holiness. I 
 will transcribe Mr. Wesley's account of the origin 
 of his classes in London, March 1742. " lap- 
 pointed, (says Mr. Wesley) several earnest, sen- 
 sible men to meet me, to whom I shewed the 
 great difficulty I had long found of knowing the 
 people who desired to bs under my care. After 
 m\*ch discourse, they all agreed there could be 
 no better way to come to a sure knowledge of 
 each person, than to divide them into classes, im- 
 
157 
 
 der the inspection of those in whom I could con-' 
 fide. This was the origin of classes in London, 
 for which I can never sufficiently praise God, the 
 unspeakable usefulness of the institution having 
 ever since been more and more manifest.'*' The 
 person appointed to watch these little classes was 
 called the leader of that class to which he receiv- 
 ed his appointment. Mr. Wesley called the lead' 
 ers together, and desired that each would make a 
 particular inquiry into the behaviour of those he 
 saw weekly. They did so ; and many disorderly 
 walkers were detected. Some were turned from 
 the evil of their Ways, and some put out of the 
 society. And the rest saw it with fear, and re- 
 joiced in God with reverence. At first the leaders 
 visited each person at their own house ; but this 
 was soon found inexpedient. It required more 
 time than the leaders had to spare. Many per- 
 sons lived with masters, mistresses, or relations, 
 where they could not be visited. And where 
 misunderstandings had r.risen between persons in 
 the same class, it was more convenient to see 
 them face to face. On these, and some other 
 considerations, it was agreed, that each leader 
 should meet his class altogether, 6nce a week, at 
 a time and place most convenient for the whole. 
 He begun and ended the meeting with singing and 
 prayer ; and spent about an hour conversing with 
 these persons, one by one. By this means, a 
 more full inquiry was made into the behaviour oi 
 every person ; advice or reproof was given as need 
 required ; misunderstandings were removed, and 
 
488 
 
 brotherly love promoted. " It can scarce be con- 
 ceived (says Mr. Wesley,) what advantages have 
 been reaped from this little prudential regulation. 
 Many experienced that christian fellowship, of 
 which they had not so much as an idea before. 
 They begun to bear one another 9 s burthens, and na- 
 turally to care for each other's welfare. And as they 
 had daily a more intimate acquaintance with, so 
 they had a more endeared affection for each other." 
 Mr. Wesley further adds, " Upon reflection I 
 could not but observe, this is the very thing which 
 was from the very beginning of Christianity. In 
 the earliest times, those whom God had sent forth 
 to preach the gospel to every creature, and the body 
 of. s were mostly Jews or Heathens ; but as 
 
 soon as any of these were so convinced of thfc 
 truth as to forsake sin, and seek the gospel of sal- 
 vation, they immediately joined them together, 
 took an account of their names, and advised them 
 to watch over each other, and met those Catechu- 
 mens, as they were then called, apart from the 
 congregation, that they might instruct, rebuke, 
 exhort, and pray with them and for them, accord- 
 ing to their several necessities." 
 
 Perhaps the following hymn, which they often 
 sing in those meetings, will enable you to form 
 some idea of the temper and spirit by which they 
 are actuated. 
 
 Christ, from whom all blessings flaw, 
 
 Perfecting the saints below, 
 
 Hear us, who thy nature share, 
 
 Who thy mystic body ai e ; 
 
 Join us, in one spirit join, 
 
 Let us still receive cf tjnne : 
 
189 
 
 Still for more on thee we call, 
 Thou who fillest all in all ! 
 Closer knit to thee our head, 
 Nourish us, O Christ, and feed ; 
 Let us daily growth receive, 
 More and more id Jesus live. 
 Jesus, we thy members are, 
 Cherish us with kindest care j 
 Of thy flesh and of thy bone, 
 Love, for ever love thy own. 
 
 Move and actuate, and guide^ 
 Divers gifts to each divide ; 
 Plac'd according to thy will, 
 Let us all our work fulfil, 
 Never from our office move, 
 Needful to each other prove ; 
 Use the grace on each bestow" d^ 
 Tempered by the art of God. 
 
 Sweetly may we all agree, 
 Touch'd with softest sympathy ; 
 Kindly for each other care, 
 Every member feel its share, 
 Wounded by the grief of one, 
 Now let all the member.^ groan 5 
 Honour'd if one member is, 
 All partake the common bliss. 
 
 Many are we now and one, 
 "We who Jesus have put on : 
 There is neither bond or free, 
 Male or female, Lord, in thee ! 
 Love, like death, has all destroy'd, 
 Render' d all distinction void ! 
 Names and sects and parties fall ! 
 Thou, O Christ, art all in all ! 
 
 I am, dear friend, 
 
 Your 5 ! 
 
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