things were expected from the leisure of a man, who, from the splendid
scene of action in which his talents had enabled him to make so
conspicuous a figure, had retired to employ those talents in the
investigation of truth. Philosophy began to congratulate herself upon
such a proselyte from the world of business, and hoped to have extended
her power under the auspices of such a leader. In the midst of these
pleasing expectations, the works themselves at last appeared in _full
body_, and with great pomp. Those who searched in them for new
discoveries in the mysteries of nature; those who expected something
which might explain or direct the operations of the mind; those who
hoped to see morality illustrated and enforced; those who looked for new
helps to society and government; those who desired to see the characters
and passions of mankind delineated; in short, all who consider such
things as philosophy, and require some of them at least in every
philosophical work, all these were certainly disappointed; they found
the landmarks of science precisely in their former places: and they
thought they received but a poor recompense for this disappointment, in
seeing every mode of religion attacked in a lively manner, and the
foundation of every virtue, and of all government, sapped with great art
and much ingenuity. What advantage do we derive from such writings? What
delight can a man find in employing a capacity which might be usefully
exerted for the noblest purposes, in a sort of sullen labor, in which,
if the author could succeed, he is obliged to own, that nothing could be
more fatal to mankind than his success?

I cannot conceive how this sort of writers propose to compass the
designs they pretend to have in view, by the instruments which they
employ. Do they pretend to exalt the mind of man, by proving him no
better than a beast? Do they think to enforce the practice of virtue, by
denying that vice and virtue are distinguished by good or ill fortune