must all be damned: the playhouse is the porch of Hell, the
place of the Devil's abode, where he holds his filthy court of evil
spirits: a play is the Devil's triumph, a sacrifice performed to his
glory, as much as in the heathen temples of Bacchus or Venus, &c., &c."
But these sallies of religious frenzy must not extinguish the praise,
which is due to Mr. William Law as a wit and a scholar. His argument on
topics of less absurdity is specious and acute, his manner is lively,
his style forcible and clear; and, had not his vigorous mind been
clouded by enthusiasm, he might be ranked with the most agreeable and
ingenious writers of the times. While the Bangorian controversy was
a fashionable theme, he entered the lists on the subject of Christ's
kingdom, and the authority of the priesthood: against the plain account
of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper he resumed the combat with Bishop
Hoadley, the object of Whig idolatry, and Tory abhorrence; and at every
weapon of attack and defence the non-juror, on the ground which is
common to both, approves himself at least equal to the prelate. On
the appearance of the Fable of the Bees, he drew his pen against the
licentious doctrine that private vices are public benefits, and morality
as well as religion must join in his applause. Mr. Law's master-work,
the Serious Call, is still read as a popular and powerful book of
devotion. His precepts are rigid, but they are founded on the gospel;
his satire is sharp, but it is drawn from the knowledge of human life;
and many of his portraits are not unworthy of the pen of La Bruyere. If
he finds a spark of piety in his reader's mind, he will soon kindle it
to a flame; and a philosopher must allow that he exposes, with equal
severity and truth, the strange contradiction between the faith and
practice of the Christian world. Under the names of Flavia and Miranda
he has admirably described my two aunts the heathen and the Christian
sister.

My father, Edward Gibbon, was born in October, 1707: at the age of
thirteen he could scarcely feel that he was disinherited by act of
parliament; and, as he advanced towards manhood, new prospects of
fortune opened to his view. A parent is most attentive to supply in
his children the deficiencies, of which he is conscious in himself: my
grandfather's knowledge was derived from a strong understanding, and the
experience of the ways of men; but my father enjoyed the benefits of a
liberal education as a sch