Let a finner who glories in his fancied ftrength of mind, because he is not governed by vulgar prejudices and fuperftitious fears, approach that fincere hour when things begin to appear in their true lights, when the world which had deceived him is vanishing from his fight, when he feels himself drawing near that eternal existence which now affumes an awful reality, and the terrors of divine juftice impofe a dreadful neceffity to be honest-ah! at this moment, can he rest upon his principles? Vain principles they are fwept away like light and withered leaves before the rifing ftorm. Inftead of that tranquil and affected incredulity with which he formerly difiniffed the duties of piety, or fneered at its remonftrances, you fee him agitated by cruel and exceffive fears. His heart trembles and faints within him, at the profpect of a judgment to come. Does he any longer cavil at the evidences, or revolt at the incredible doctrines of religion? Does he demand new proofs of it before he will believe? No; he believes and trembles. It is not its evidences, but its comforts, which he requires. You hear him intreat for thofe holy offices which once he defpifed. He calls for thofe minifters

of God who formerly were the objects of his neglect, perhaps of his foolith fcorn. It is not now the quellion with him, if there be a God? If there be a future ftate of retribution? These truths rufh with fearful evidence upon his foul; but, with the trembling jailor, "what fhall I do to be faved?" He preffes the verge of an eternal exiftence-the past prefents nothing but subjects of gloomy and felf-condemning reflection-the future offers nothing but a fearful and overwhelming defpair. If a ray of hope ftrikes upon his mind, through the awful darknefs that furrounds him, it is derived only from that despised religion, to which, too late perhaps, he now flees for refuge. Oh! 'tis an honeft hour that tries to the bottom, the foundations of infidelity. How few can then stand the fevere scrutiny of conscience, or bear the teft of their own reason when difentangled from those objects that used to deceive it? Not one, perhaps, of all that witling tribe, who infult or cavil at a religion, which they have never examined. When the props on which his impiety had refted, are torn from beneath the finner, by the unrelenting hand of death, the wretched fabric

tumbles on his guilty head, and crushes him beneath the ruins.

Is this representation drawn too high? Penitent Rochefler! I appeal to the tears and confeffions of thy last moments.* Was not this the language of thy defpair, ferocious Blount! whom thy miferies compelled to be thy own executioner?† And Shaftesbury! gay and mirthful Shaftesbury! so apprehenfive wert thou of the impotence of thy philofophy, to fupport thee in this great conflict, that thou halt forewarned thy friends not to receive as genuine, any fentiments on religion, which thou mighteft utter, in the weakness of nature, during her laft ftruggles. Thou haft, by anticipation, abjured a confeffion thou waft afraid the honefty of death might extort from thee ?

The noted Earl of Rochefter, the hiftory of whofe libertinifm and penitence, has been written by Bilhop Burnet. + The author of the Oracles of Reafon, who, at laft, becoming gloomy and melancholy, in a fit of despair, put an end to his own life.

Anthony Afhley Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury, equally celebrated for his wit and his infidelity. He was fo fuccefsful in the ufe of delicate irony, that he endeavoured to eftablish it as a principle, that ridicule is the proper telt of truth. From the example of many other infidels, he was

Such examples demonftrate that many, even of those who arrogate to themselves the diftinction of being philofophic infidels, have not acted in life under the full conviction of their own principles. A fecret doubt ftill lurked at the bottom of their hearts, which the light of eternity, as they approached towards it, has difclosed to view. And, does not almost every libertine, in the intervals of his pasions, after the intoxication of pleasure is off the mind, find his confcience mifgive him when, in a cool and ferious hour, he looks forward to the end of life?

This is a new proof that the principles of infidelity, which he (ports in the moments of levity, and on which he sometimes affects to reafon, are not embraced with candor and fincerity-they are the offspring of the pallions, and that only during the feafon of profperity-affliction, which ftrips the enchantment from vice, fhakes the confidence

apprehenfive, left the fears of death might shake the firmnes of his philofophy, and draw from him fome declaration favorable to religion. He requests his friends, if he fhould make any fuch declaration, to ascribe it to the weaknets of nature, and to take his real fentiments from his writings.

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which the mind had repofed in them. The serious prospect of eternity overwhelms them with despair.

Such is the opprobrious origin of infidelity. It continually speaks to us, indeed, of the fuperior illumination of reason; but it fprings out of the very bofom of darkness. It boasts of a ftrength of mind fuperior to other men; but it fhews us only the weaknefs of a corrupted heart, a flave to the most difgraceful lufts. Ah! this vaunted strength is nothing but the boldness and intoxication of vice, that will fhortly be converted into abject fear, and that now often trembles in fecret at its own daring. Frequently, indeed, the most confident appearances of impiety are united with real and difquieting apprehenfions of the truth of religion. The profligate endeavors to escape from his own reflections, by plunging into fucceffive scenes of diflipation. An oftentatious display of impiety, an exceffive levity on the fubject of religion, is intended merely to cover from the world, or to ftifle in his own breast, the apprehenfions that disturb his peace. He derives a kind of perfuafion in favor of falihood by frequently repeating it. If the