view. He was seated on
the edge of his bed, and was employed in repairing a rent in some part
of his clothes. His eyes were not confined to his work, but occasionally
wandering, lighted at length upon the page. The words "Seek and ye
shall find," were those that first offered themselves to his notice.
His curiosity was roused by these so far as to prompt him to proceed.
As soon as he finished his work, he took up the book and turned to
the first page. The further he read, the more inducement he found to
continue, and he regretted the decline of the light which obliged him
for the present to close it.

The book contained an exposition of the doctrine of the sect of
Camissards, and an historical account of its origin. His mind was in a
state peculiarly fitted for the reception of devotional sentiments. The
craving which had haunted him was now supplied with an object. His mind
was at no loss for a theme of meditation. On days of business, he rose
at the dawn, and retired to his chamber not till late at night. He now
supplied himself with candles, and employed his nocturnal and Sunday
hours in studying this book. It, of course, abounded with allusions to
the Bible. All its conclusions were deduced from the sacred text. This
was the fountain, beyond which it was unnecessary to trace the stream of
religious truth; but it was his duty to trace it thus far.

A Bible was easily procured, and he ardently entered on the study of it.
His understanding had received a particular direction. All his reveries
were fashioned in the same mould. His progress towards the formation of
his creed was rapid. Every fact and sentiment in this book were viewed
through a medium which the writings of the Camissard apostle had
suggested. His constructions of the text were hasty, and formed on a
narrow scale. Every thing was viewed in a disconnected position. One
action and one precept were not employed to illustrate and restrict
the meaning of another. Hence arose a thousand scruples to which he had
hitherto been a stranger. He was alternately agitated by fear and by
ecstacy. He imagined himself beset by the snares of a spiritual foe, and
that his security lay in ceaseless watchfulness and prayer.

His morals, which had never been loose, were now modelled by a stricter
standard. The empire of religious duty extended itself to his looks,
gestures, and phrases. All levities of speech, and negligences of
behaviour, were proscribed. His air was mourn