urse on
Freethinking_. His name was Anthony Collins, and in a certain sense he
was the father of English Freethought. He was a man of exemplary life
and manners, yet the saintly Bishop Berkeley said he "deserved to
be denied the common benefit of air and water." One of Collins's
antagonists was the famous Dr. Bentley; and although Collins was a
man of fortune, the ridiculous calumny was started that he sought and
obtained Bentley's assistance in adversity. The author of this calumny
was Richard Cumberland, a grandson of Bentley, and in other respects an
estimable man. His mistake was pointed out by Isaac D'Israeli, who told
him the person he meant was _Arthur_ Collins, the historical compiler.
But Cumberland perpetuated the calumny, remarking that "it should stand,
because it could do no harm to any but to Anthony Collins, whom he
considered little short of an Atheist."

Another story about Collins, which has frequently done duty in Christian
publications, is that a visitor found him reading the New Testament,
and that he remarked, "I have but one book, but that is the best."
Fortunately I am able to give the origin of this story. It is told of
_William_ Collins, the poet, by Dr. Johnson, and may be found in the
second volume (p. 239) of that writer's "Miscellaneous and Fugitive
Pieces," published by Davies in Johnson's lifetime. It was not Anthony
Collins, therefore; but what does that matter? It was a gentleman named
_Collins_; his other name is indifferent. Besides, the story is so much
more affecting when told of _Anthony_.

Look at the lying stories of infidel death-beds; glance at the
scurrilities of an outcast minister which are gratuitously circulated
by the enemies of Colonel Ingersoll; observe on how many platforms Mr.
Brad-laugh has pulled out his watch and given the Almighty five minutes
to strike him dead; listen to the grotesque libels on every leading
Freethinker which are solemnly circulated by Christian malice; and
you will behold the last fruit of a very old tree, which is slowly but
surely perishing. It once bore scaffolds, stakes, prisons and torture
rooms; it now bears but libels and insinuations.

THE LOGIC OF PERSECUTION.

Neither the cruelty of tyrants, nor the ambition of conquerors, has
wrought so much mischief and suffering, as the principle of persecution.
The crimes of a Nero, the ravages of an Attila, afflict the world for a
season, and then cease and are forgotten, or only linger