I have mostly been terrified of listening to scary stories around a campfire. We camp a lot as a family and at night my dad would try and tell us scary stories. This made eating s'mores difficult. The story would start with something like... 'and the old man who lived in these woods...' I would then run back into the camper terrified.
Poor David Hume is dying fast but with more real cheerfulness and good humor and with more real resignation to the necessary course of things than any whining Christian ever dyed with pretended resignation to the will of God.
