Christians and Infidels

In Short

This brief tract functions as a series of moral case studies designed to contrast the final hours of devout Christians with those of outspoken skeptics. By juxtaposing the agony of "infidels"—who often face their end in terror and regret—with the triumphant peace of believers, the text argues that only faith offers a stable foundation for the transition from life to death. Historically rooted in the didactic tradition of the nineteenth century, it survives as a stark illustration of how religious conviction was once intended to serve as a practical tool for dying well.

The Story

The narrative begins with a foundational premise: if a life’s quality is measured by its conclusion, then the Christian faith offers a superiority that becomes undeniable at the point of death. The text immediately moves to a harrowing account of a once-vibrant gentleman, formerly a man of gay temper and robust health, whom the Reverend J. Hervey visits on his deathbed. Stripped of his former confidence, the dying man laments his lost opportunities, confessing that he now sees worldly riches as dross and yearns for a holiness he once dismissed. His cries of "horrible night" and "everlasting destruction" serve as the opening warning against rejecting faith.

This grim scene is immediately countered by the quiet, radiant departure of Mr. Hervey himself, who welcomes death as a treasure and a passage to eternal life, clutching the promises of the Gospel as his only true support. The narrative then expands this pattern, moving through several historical figures to solidify the argument. Thomas Hobbes, the noted philosopher, is presented as a tragic example; despite his intellectual stature, he spends his final days terrified of the dark, eventually confessing that he is taking a "leap in the dark." In sharp contrast, Dr. John Leland and Dr. Leechman are shown departing with joy and exultation, their minds firmly anchored to biblical promises.

The text then reaches its emotional zenith with the account of Mr. B., a gentleman whose life was defined by his wit and his public ridicule of the Bible. When illness strikes, his friends attempt to shield him from the truth of his condition, but once the reality of his impending death is revealed, he descends into a state of uncontrollable despair. For thirty hours, he shrieks of the "burning" and the "torments of hell," leaving his companions horrified and unable to remain at his side.

The final arc of the work shifts from this nightmare to the serene and orderly passing of Bishop Bedell. Surrounded by his family, the Bishop spends his final moments offering prayers, reciting scripture, and expressing his complete lack of fear. He leaves his loved ones with a testament of faith, viewing his end not as a catastrophe, but as a victory. The narrative concludes by challenging the reader to observe these two distinct paths and to choose the one that leads to peace rather than the despair of the "infidel," urging an immediate turn toward the refuge of the Gospel.

How It Unfolds

The opening challenge The book sets its thesis by asserting that death tests the strength of one’s beliefs more severely than any other event. It posits that while skeptics may claim happiness in life, their deathbeds almost invariably expose the hollowness of that claim.

The witness of the dying A series of biographical snapshots follows, beginning with the Reverend J. Hervey’s account of a formerly gay gentleman who dies in misery. This is immediately balanced by the calm, triumphant death of Hervey himself, establishing the alternating rhythm of the subsequent chapters.

The folly of the learned The argument shifts to intellectual skepticism, using the philosopher Thomas Hobbes as a cautionary tale of a brilliant mind failing to find comfort at the end. This is contrasted with the intellectual and spiritual satisfaction of Dr. John Leland and Dr. Leechman, who find their deepest peace in the Bible.

The horror of the skeptic The narrative provides a detailed, unflinching look at the final hours of a man known as Mr. B., whose public mockery of religion gives way to absolute panic. This serves as the book's most intense dramatic example of a life ending in total spiritual isolation.

The final testament The book closes with the serene, scripted departure of Bishop Bedell, whose final words emphasize legacy, hope, and the absence of shame. This serves as the ultimate model for the reader to emulate, followed by a direct appeal for the reader to secure their own salvation.

The People

The Reverend J. Hervey serves as the reader’s guide, an observant witness who validates the contrasting deaths he records. He is a steady, calm presence, acting as a bridge between the reader and the varied figures he visits.

The "unnamed gentleman" and "Mr. B." represent the tragic cautionary figures. Both are initially characterized by their charm, worldly success, and public disdain for religious restraint. Their transition from lighthearted skeptics to men gripped by existential terror is the central engine of the book’s dramatic tension, intended to shatter the reader’s complacency.

Thomas Hobbes is cast as the intellectual failure—the man of great worldly reputation who possesses all the learning of his age yet lacks the one thing the author deems necessary to face the grave with dignity. His legacy in this book is defined by his fear of the "leap in the dark."

Bishop Bedell stands as the book’s spiritual anchor. He is the antithesis of Mr. B.; where the skeptic is consumed by the chaos of his own regret, the Bishop is defined by his orderly, intentional departure. He does not fear the end because he has spent his life preparing for it, and his final words serve as the template for the "correct" way to exist in the face of mortality.

In Its Own Voice

“Their death-beds shew the miserable state of those who thus reject the hope that is set before them; and, when contrasted with the last hours of believers, the difference appears still more strongly marked.”

The author establishes the central thesis that a person's final moments are the ultimate evidence of the truth of their life's philosophy.

“He could never bear any discourse of death, and seemed to endeavour to cast off all thoughts of it.”

The text describes the psychological state of Thomas Hobbes, characterizing his skepticism as a form of evasion rather than intellectual courage.

“I am going the way of all flesh: ‘The time of my departure is at hand.’”

Bishop Bedell calmly addresses his family, signaling his acceptance of mortality through the lens of scriptural promise.

What It's Really About

At its core, this work explores the existential anxiety of mortality. It argues that death is not merely a biological conclusion, but a moral and spiritual trial that reveals the adequacy of one’s internal architecture. The book insists that atheism or skepticism, while perhaps sustainable during the vitality of youth or health, is inherently fragile and incapable of providing comfort when faced with the absolute cessation of life. It posits that human dignity is best maintained through a life of "holiness" and "uprightness," and that the "fear of death" is a universal condition that can only be conquered through a sincere and total surrender to the promises of the Gospel.

Why Read It Today

This book will appeal to those interested in the history of religious thought and the evolving rhetoric surrounding death and dying. Readers who appreciate the stark, unflinching, and often dramatic prose of nineteenth-century moral tracts will find much to engage with here. It offers a window into a time when death was treated as a public event, a final performance that confirmed the validity of one's entire life.

However, contemporary readers should be prepared for the book’s intense, high-stakes moral binary. The author does not shy away from visceral descriptions of despair, and the tone is one of unrelenting urgency. The language is formal and occasionally archaic, reflecting the period's preference for authoritative, sermon-like cadence. While some may find the treatment of "infidels" harsh or reductionist by modern standards, the book remains a fascinating primary document of how faith was once championed not merely as a belief system, but as a practical, necessary armor for the most difficult human experience. It is a brief, concentrated read that stays with you, forcing a reflection on the foundational hopes—or lack thereof—that one carries into the silence.