it is true, the more zealous we were to recognise truth and divinity in one form only, the more did Lacoste seize every opportunity to express his incredulity. Indeed, however miserable he felt within himself, he sought by a certain vanity to avail himself of every occasion to prove his strength of mind in mockery, and in violent bursts of passion, his wretchedness had given such a bitter turn to his feelings, that sometimes he stood amongst us like an inspired prophet of Atheism, used such singular similies and figurative expressions, in a language so touching and elevated, that the pious maidens turned away from him with inward terror.
We had all ceased to weep, we were reconciled and of peaceable, quiet hearts, when Lacoste entered in the midst of our pathetic emotion and religious conversation. Beauvais made known to him what he had learned from Lucy, and that he (Lacoste) must quit our society in order that he might not disturb the happiness of
