which he might not have been allowed in any religion whatever, put on all the appearance of viciousness he could, because he was silly enough to imagine it proved his sense. And, as he could not think deep enough to consult on which side truth lay, he never considered further than what would give him the best opportunity of displaying his wit. He openly professed himself a great lover of ridicule, and thought no subject so fit to exercise it on as religion and the clergy: he, therefore, as soon as the other had done speaking, ran through all the trite things which had been ever said on that head; such as the pride of priests, their being greedy after the tithes, etc. This he spoke with an air which at once proved his folly, and the strong opinion he had of his own wisdom.
The clergyman heard all the atheist's arguments, and the butterfly's jests, without once offering to interrupt them; and, had they talked such nonsense on any other subject, he would not have taken the pains to answer them; but he thought the duty of his profession in this case called upon him to endeavour, at least, to convince them of the error. His good sense easily saw that to go too deep would be only talking what they did not understand, and consequently throwing away his own labour; he therefore kept on the surface of things, and to the atheist only proved that the unevenness of the roads, or a man's having the headache after a debauch (which were the two points he had insisted on) were no arguments against the existence of a deity; and then had good-nature enough to try to bring him off from the course of life he saw he was in, by showing him how easy it would be for him to attain health and ease, if he would only do what was in his own power (i.e. lead a regular life) for the sake of enjoying those benefits; and that then be would find as much cause to be thankful to the
