o was so prone to abuse it. His fine constitution, than which
perhaps there was hardly ever a better, gave him great opportunities of
indulging himself in these excesses; and his good spirits enabled him to
pursue his pleasures of every kind in so alert and sprightly a manner,
that multitudes envied him, and called him, by a dreadful kind of
compliment, "the happy rake."
CHAPTER IV.
CHECKS OF CONSCIENCE.
Yet still the checks of conscience, and some remaining principles of so
good an education, would break in upon his most licentious hours; and
I particularly remember he told me, that when some of his dissolute
companions were once congratulating him on his distinguished felicity, a
dog happening at that time to come into the room, he could not forbear
groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, 'Oh that I were that dog!' Such
then was his happiness; and such perhaps is that of hundreds more who
bear themselves highest in the contempt of religion, and glory in
that infamous servitude which they affect to call liberty. But these
remonstrances of reason and conscience were in vain; and, in short, he
carried things so far in this wretched part of his life, that I am well
assured some sober English gentlemen, who made no great pretences to
religion, how agreeable soever he might have been to them on other
accounts, rather declined than sought his company, as fearing they might
have been ensnared and corrupted by it.
Yet I cannot find that in these most abandoned days he was fond of
drinking. Indeed, he never had any natural relish for that kind of
intemperance, from which he used to think a manly pride might be
sufficient to preserve persons of sense and spirit; as by it they give up
every thing that distinguishes them from the meanest of their species, or
indeed from animals the most below it. So that if ever he fell into any
excesses of this kind, it was merely out of complaisance to his company,
and that he might not appear stiff and singular. His frank, obliging, and
generous temper procured him many friends; and these principles, which
rendered him amiable to others, not being under the direction of true
wisdom and piety, sometimes made him, in the ways of living he pursued,
more uneasy to himself than he might, perhaps, have been, if he could
have entirely overcome them; especially as he never was a sceptic in his
principles, but still retained a secret apprehension that natural and
revealed religion, tho
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