ame an open advocate for religion in all its principles,
so far as he was acquainted with them, and all its precepts, relating
to sobriety, righteousness, and godliness. Yet he was very desirous and
cautious that he might not run into extremes, and made it one of his
first petitions to God, the very day after these amazing impressions had
been wrought in his mind, that he might not be suffered to behave with
such an affected strictness and preciseness as would lead others about
him into mistaken notions of religion, and expose it to reproach or
suspicion, as if it were an unlovely or uncomfortable thing. For this
reason, he endeavoured to appear as cheerful in conversation as he
conscientiously could; though, in spite of all his precautions, some
traces of that deep inward sense which he had of his guilt and misery
would at times appear. He made no secret of it, however, that his views
were entirely changed, though he concealed the particular circumstances
attending that change. He told his most intimate companions freely that
he had reflected on the course of life in which he had so long joined
them, and found it to be folly and madness, unworthy a rational creature,
and much more unworthy persons calling themselves Christians. And he set
up his standard, upon all occasions, against principles of infidelity and
practices of vice, as determinately and as boldly as ever he displayed or
planted his colours, when he bore them with so much honour in the field.

I cannot forbear mentioning one struggle of this kind which he described
to me, with a large detail of circumstances, the first day of our
acquaintance. There was at that time in Paris a certain lady (whose name,
then well known in the grand and gay world, I must beg leave to conceal)
who had imbibed the principles of deism, and valued herself much upon
being an avowed advocate for them. The major, with his usual frankness,
(though I doubt not with that politeness of manners which was so habitual
to him, and which he retained throughout his whole life,) answered her
like a man who perfectly saw through the fallacy of her arguments,
and was grieved to the heart for her delusions. On this she briskly
challenged him to debate the matter at large, and to fix upon a day for
that purpose, when he should dine with her, attended by any clergyman he
might choose, whether of the Protestant or Catholic communion. A sense
of duty would not allow him to decline this challenge; and