THOUGHTS. 
 
 CHIEFLY ON 
 
 SERIOUS SUBJECTS, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM DANBY, Esq. 
 
 OP SWINTON PARK, YORKSHIRE. 
 
 Cogitatione omnis est aljieiendus doior. 
 
 €ttm 
 
 PRINTED POR THE AUTHOR, BY E. WOOLMEB, 
 GAZETTE-OFFICE. 
 
 1821. 
 
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 A good many repetitions will be found 
 in the following pages. If, however, a thought is 
 interesting in itself (and the recurrence of it affords 
 some proof that it is) it may be made still more so 
 by being placed in different points of view, or con- 
 veyed indifferent modes of expression, and when 
 so represented, may be more likely to gain the 
 attention of the reader. That these will have any 
 readers, can indeed only be inferred from the interest 
 they created in the mind, and which suggested the 
 expression of them by the pen of the writer j an 
 interest however which, obvious as many of them 
 are, and fanciful as some may be thought, he believes 
 the subjects of them at least will, generally, raise 
 also in the minds of those who have feelings to 
 move, and thoughts to excite. 
 
 " Why not indulge such thoughts, as swell our hearts 
 
 With fuller admiration of that Power 
 
 Who gives our hearts with such high thoughts to swell ?" 
 
 - (Night Thoughts, Night 9.) 
 
The reader is requested to turn to the Appendix at the 
 end of the Book, for what regards the first Number, as 
 well indeed as all the rest. 
 
 
ERRATA.— Page 2, line 7 of the note, for " truth," read "proof." 
 — Page 34, line 15 of the note, for "(see No. 129)" read «« (see note 
 to No. 38.)" — Page 37, line 1 of the note, for " absurdam," read 
 •* absurd urn." — P;ige 40, line 8 of the note, for "summon," read 
 "summons." — Page 47, line 12 of the note, for "74," read "73." 
 — Page 64, line 1, for "veracity," read " variety."— Page 66, line 
 17, for "suppositious," read " supposititious." — Page 114, line 3 of 
 the note, after "dust," a note of admiration. — Page 160, line 4, for 
 "we," read " they" — Page 162, line 24 of the note, for" answerable" read 
 " unanswerable." — Page 168, line 9 of the notej for "sample," read 
 "jumbie."— Page 187, line 2, close the parenthesis at "page 178 "—Page 
 197, line 1 6, to " accumulation" subjoin fas a note) " for more of this, see 
 page 222."- Page 203, line7, for"and," read " or."— Page 207, line 9 
 of the note, dele the comma after " crowns."— Page 222, line 6, after 
 " no," read " two," — Ditto, Iine7, after "each," read " other."— Page 
 231, line 7, for " though," read " as." — Page 253, line 1 of the note, for 
 " No. 130," read "No. 131."— Page 254, line 9, for "No. 70," read 
 " No.73.— Page 258, end of line 9, for " the" react " its."— P^ge 267, 
 line 15» for " meriiricious," read " meretricious." — Paue 279, line 5, after 
 "purposes," for a note of interrogation, a full stop. — Pa^e 280, line 3 of 
 the note, for " Rosseau's," read «' Rousseau's."— Page 286, line 10, after 
 " superstition," instead of a note of interrogation, a note of admiration. 
 
THOUGHTS, &c, 
 
 I. 
 
 Surely, surely, there is a God 
 
 who governs this earth : and if this 
 
 ^arth, the whole universe. Enough has 
 
 been said of the impossibility that matter 
 
 should be self-existent, or self-created, 
 
 and of the absurdity of the substitution 
 
 of necessity or chance, for a supreme 
 
 and intelligent Cause, distinct from and 
 
 independent of all that is subordinate to 
 
 it. All these substitutions, and all the 
 
 objections which the Atheist can bring 
 
 against the existence of such a Being, 
 
 only shew and result from an inability 
 
 to conceive his nature; and this, instead 
 B 
 
2 
 
 of being an objection, is rather an ad- 
 ditional proof,* negative as it is, of his 
 existence : for a little reflection on the 
 nature and situation of man is sufficient 
 to shew the incompatibility of such a 
 power of conception with the infinite 
 distance there must be between the 
 creature and the Creator; between all 
 that can fall within the evidence of our 
 senses, and the Author of that all, and of 
 all the mysteries insolvable by us, which 
 it contains. A very little reflection on 
 our powers and attainments is sufficient 
 to shew how limited they are, and the 
 strong reason there is from analogyf to 
 
 * It affords at least a foundation for other proof to be 
 built upon, as is done in the reasoning which follows ; 
 and which, \ apprehend, will acquire additional force from 
 its being the strongest that can be urged on the subject, 
 though indeed much more might be said upon it. 
 
 It may perhaps be said, that our inability to bring more 
 positive truth must leave the^ matter in doubt : but what 
 an accumulation of presumptive evidence there is to bring 
 in answer to this ? evidence that must decide the judg- 
 ment in its favor. And if reason will fairly compare its 
 own powers with the attainments to which those powers- 
 are adequate, it will know how to regulate its decisions.. 
 
 f " Analogy, man's surest guide below." 
 
 (Young's Night 7 houghts -Night 6.} 
 
3 
 
 believe that the degrees of knowledge 
 and the chain of existence are carried 
 much higher than ours reaches to* 
 Where then does it end, but in a su- 
 preme intelligent Being?* and if su- 
 preme, then distinct from and no other- 
 wise connected with all below him, than 
 as the Creator of, and Ruler over all. 
 A power in man to conceive the nature 
 of such a Being, would, in a manner, 
 raise his understanding to a level with 
 the Divine mind: any further step to- 
 wards such a comprehension, would be 
 a nearer approach to the Deity, and yet 
 would probably still leave an imperfec- 
 tion in that knowledge, which minds as 
 captious and sceptical as that of the 
 human Atheist might make a plea of, to 
 call in question that existence and those 
 
 * All must be subordinate to the first cause : and does 
 not our inability to define, or even to ascertain, abstracted- 
 ly speaking, existence itself, prove that its origin is far 
 beyond the reach of our knowledge. 
 
 The consciousness of our own existence is the only 
 proof we have of the reality of it : from whence is* that 
 consciousness derived ? 
 
 B 2 
 
attributes, which the Atheist here dis- 
 putes, because he cannot comprehend 
 them, or cannot reconcile them with the 
 result of his own limited and superficial 
 observations and conclusions. But it is 
 hardly possible to say what sort and 
 degree of conviction some minds re- 
 quire; and the difficulty of impressing 
 it upon them seems to indicate that the 
 passions have a strong influence (and 
 we cannot say how strong) upon the 
 operations of the judgment. Indeed 
 that they have is sufficiently evinced by 
 the conduct of many men in the affairs 
 of life. From the nature of man, there 
 is an imperfection in all the knowledge 
 he possesses or can acquire, and so 
 great-an imperfection,* that of all that 
 falls or can fall within his observation, 
 his real comprehension may fairly be 
 said to amount to nothing : what then 
 
 ; * How easily then he may be led into error, either by 
 his own suggestions, or those of the society into which he 
 may chance to fall ! 
 
must be his comprehension of things that 
 are above the reach of his reason, that 
 is above, far above, the reach of those 
 senses from which his reason receives 
 its information ? As Pope says, " What 
 can we reason, but from what we 
 know ?" But are we to suppose that all 
 matter for knowledge is limited to the 
 circle to which ours extends? It should 
 rather seem, that, under a contrary sup- 
 position, we should remain in a total 
 suspense respecting every thing beyond 
 the bounds of that circle; but in the first 
 place, we cannot tell exactly where 
 those bounds are placed >* (and conse- 
 
 *■ For there are many things, of which we have imperfect 
 ideas, but of the reality of which we may he not less 
 strongly and reasonably persuaded: may not these be called 
 approaches to knowledge r approaches that draw nearer 
 to their objects, as our habits of contemplation and ob- 
 servation continue and increase.. And if there is that 
 general connection that is here supposed, it may well also 
 be supposed that the different shades of intelligence 
 touch upon each other, and that, as in sensible objects, a 
 more or less imperfect light is thrown successively upon 
 them. Is not our knowledge improved by dwelling upon 
 the object of our contemplation, by comparing, abstracting, 
 applying, &c. ? What limits are we to assign to this ? 
 
 The very sense and conviction of our ignorance (para- 
 doxical as it may seem) may imply a degree of knowledge. 
 
quently what degrees of knowledge we 
 may be capable of acquiring); and se- 
 condly, we touch too nearly upon what 
 lays beyond them; and the general chain 
 of knowledge, infinite as the distance 
 between its extremes is, is perhaps too 
 much connected throughout to allow of 
 a total separation and abstraction of any 
 part of it from the rest. 
 
 II. 
 
 The uncertainty of human knowledge, 
 the consequent imperfection of language, 
 and the obscurity and intricacy of many 
 of the subjects on which men's under- 
 standings are exercised, afford room for 
 sophistry, for scepticism, for variety of 
 opinion, and at the same time excite us 
 to that deeper and closer investigation, 
 and that thorough exertion of all our fa- 
 culties, that, accompanied with a due 
 distrust of ourselves and of our first 
 
impressions, will lead our reason and 
 our feelings to the acknowledgment of 
 truths that are beyond our comprehen- 
 sion, and to a reference to and reliance 
 on that Power in whom the perfect 
 comprehension of those truths must re- 
 side. Thev will lead us to the exertion 
 of our reason as far as its sphere extends,* 
 assisted and stimulated by those feelings 
 which our reason avows, (and for what 
 but this co-operation were those feelings 
 given us ?) ; and they will teach us to 
 confiue our conclusions within that 
 sphere, to form them in due consistency 
 with the faculties that are given to us, 
 and to leave all beyond that to the 
 Power who has given us those faculties 
 for purposes they are fully sufficient to 
 answer, when exercised in the manner 
 that our reason and our consciences 
 approve. 
 
 * And how glorious 3s that sphere, which has such a 
 scope within it, and such a termination for its bounds! 
 
III. 
 
 Where knowledge cannot reach, opi- 
 nion must supply its place, and if we 
 duly examine the grounds on which 
 our opinions are formed, and the pre- 
 disposition which more or less biasses 
 them in almost every thing, and of course 
 the most in matters of the most impor- 
 tant and difficult nature, we shall, when 
 we give our attention to it, find our 
 opinions exactly suited, in degree and 
 inclination,* to the most difficult and 
 important of all, viz. Religion : impor- 
 tant to all, difficult chiefly to those who 
 wish for a satisfaction greater than the 
 powers of the human mind enable it to 
 attain. The due estimation then of those 
 powers ought to determine the degree 
 
 * " In degree and inclination :" that is, in the power we 
 have to form our opinion, and in the direction we are dis- 
 posed to give it when we fairly consult our reason.. 
 
of satisfaction that we may allow our- 
 selves to expect. 
 
 IV. 
 
 We are totally incompetent to mea- 
 sure science that surpasses ours : we can 
 u reason but from what we know ; v all 
 our knowledge, all our judgments, are 
 merely relative and comparative ; what 
 therefore is impossible to man, may well 
 be possible to God.* But this does not 
 necessitate, nor yet justify the "credo 
 quia impossibile est ;" for there must 
 be other grounds of belief; and these 
 grounds we are permitted, nay enjoined 
 
 * "Can man conceive beyond what God can do ? 
 Nothing, but quite impossible, is hard. 
 He summons into being, t wkh- like ease, 
 A whole creation, and a single grain/' 
 
 (Night Thoughts— Night 9.) 
 
 "■' I am,' thy name ! existence,,all thine own ! 
 Creation's nothing ; flatter'd much, if styl'd 
 ' The thin, the fleeting atmosphere of God.' " 
 
 (Ibid) 
 
10 
 
 to " search" and examine fairly. If we 
 feel ourselves (on due consideration) 
 authorised to say a thing is impossible, 
 we are authorised also to disbelieve and 
 reject it : belief is thereby precluded ; 
 but a thing may appear to us to be im- 
 possible, because we cannot comprehend 
 the possibility of it;* as the compati- 
 bility of the prescience of God, with the 
 free agency of man ; we cannot feel 
 ourselves justified in disbelievin g and 
 rejecting this, or even doubting it : im- 
 possible, (or rather incomprehensible) 
 
 * Or can only resolve it into the unlimited power of 
 the Almighty. If we presumptuously say that there are 
 certain limits to his power (as, what has been done cannot 
 be undone) we must consider that we cannot know the 
 essential quality of things, so as to be enabled to draw 
 any certain conclusions respecting them ; that essence is 
 in him : and his power is bounded only by his exercise 
 of it. As to our knowledge, it must necessarily be con- 
 fined within the sphere of its own extent. How cau- 
 tious, then, and diffident ought we to be in the use we 
 make of it! an obligation further demonstrated by the 
 sense of ignorance which the utmost exertion of our 
 faculties must end in ; that is, ignorance of every thing 
 beyond what the purposes require for which those faculties 
 were given to us. And it is especially in matters beyond 
 the reach of our comprehension, that a well founded gene- 
 ral conclusion ought (as is elsewhere, No. 13, observed) 
 to preclude all reasonings upon particulars. 
 
11 
 
 as it may appear to us, the reasons for 
 our believing it far ontweigh those that 
 may incline us to reject it. If we be- 
 lieve the prescience of God, and deny 
 the free agency of man, we must deny 
 his responsibility also ; if we believe the 
 free agency of man, and deny the pre- 
 science of God, we must deny his omni- 
 seience also: in the first case we make 
 God the immediate author and cause of 
 evil; in the second we deny him to be 
 the author or cause of any thing what- 
 ever. 
 
 If power is limited, it must be by a 
 power superior to it. Infinite Power, as 
 well as infinite knowledge, is therefore 
 a necessary attribute of the Supreme. 
 Lucretius's " Rerum Natura^ is an 
 effect without a cause. 
 
J* 
 
 v. 
 
 Something must be self-existent : if 
 matter, then matter is eternal, which is 
 an attribute of the Deity. Thus we fall 
 into the absurdities of Spinosism, which 
 its author perhaps thought to correct 
 by uniting the Deity and matter, an idea 
 probably founded on a poor analogy 
 with the human frame. But, after all, 
 what is matter ? for we can only define 
 it as it affects our senses, and appears to 
 us — extension, hardness, &c. ; but when, 
 we attempt to define it metaphysically, 
 we seem to fall into contradictions : it is, 
 infinitely divisible we say : infinitude is 
 another attribute of the Deity : is not 
 this an approach at least towards Spino- 
 sism ? But to pursue this infinite divisi- 
 bility, does it not lead us at last to the 
 
13 
 
 mathematical point,* which is a negation 
 of all matter? an entity made (if I may 
 say so) out of a nonentity ? This kind of 
 reasoning perhaps has made some philo- 
 
 * Does not the mathematical point, which may be con- 
 sidered as the extreme of concentration, shew that there 
 must be a term to comminution, to divisibility ? The argu- 
 ment in favor of infinite divisibility indeed, is founded upon 
 ourinability to conceive any particle, however small, which 
 may not be divided into parts j but does this inability 
 prove the fact ? if it does, here are two arguments that 
 appear to militate against each other. As to the mathe- 
 matical proof for demonstration) in the two approaching 
 lines, they are (partly at least) nonentities, having only 
 extension without breadth; therefore a metaphysical 
 -argument seems here to be applied to a physical case. 
 Is not this incongruous ? How is a perfect non-entity to 
 be supposed ? But- what is existence ? 
 
 In our search after the absolute truth of things, we get 
 into metaphysics, and there we are lost. However, there 
 are metaphysical truths, of which we may be sensible. 
 Such, 1 apprehend, are those of religion. 
 
 " And are there, then, Lorenzo, those, to whom 
 
 ".Unseen and unexistent are the same ?" 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 3.) 
 
 '"" We nothing know but what is marvellous ; 
 
 " Yet what is marvellous we can't believe !" 
 
 (Ibid—Night 3.) 
 There is no language (it is said) for metaphysics ; but 
 metaphysical truths are not the less certain. Have we 
 no ideas that will reach them ? Yes ; to a certain point : 
 for how otherwise are we to be sensible of that certitude ? 
 And if there are different degrees and shades of knowledge, 
 why should not some of them extend to the confines of 
 ^metaphysics ? I believe the fact is, that our ideas of 
 ■knowledge often require definition. 
 
 " And art thou shocked at mysteries ? 
 
 The greatest thou!"— (Night Thoughts, Night 7.) 
 
14 
 
 sophers (as Bishop Berkely, &c.) doubt 
 of the real existence of matter ; and of 
 its self- existence,, the doubt, or rather 
 the rejection, appears to me reasonable 
 enough. Its relative existence we must 
 refer to the sole, self- existent, intelligent 
 and supreme Cause of all; for intelli- 
 gence here is surely to be supposed.— 
 So Akenside finely says, 
 
 u Mind, mind alone, bear witness earth and heaven I 
 The living fountain in itself contains 
 Of beauteous aud sublime I" 
 
 Akenside probably only meant the 
 great superiority of mind to matter; 
 but may not this idea be carried 
 farther, and the mind be considered 
 as the real source of every thing? 
 an idea that seems strengthened by 
 considering that all our knowledge 
 flows from perception : and is it not 
 absurd to make that perception a pro- 
 perty of matter ? From whence arise 
 the imperfect ideas we have of many 
 things ? Is the perfection of those ideas 
 to be found in the subtler part of 
 
15 
 
 matter ? In what degree of attenuation 
 of matter are we to suppose the highest 
 perfection of these ideas to exist, <&c. &c. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Some people seem to think that Scep- 
 ticism is the best religion, or rather 
 substitute for all religions, that the mind 
 can adopt: but if we consider it fairly, 
 I believe we shall find it a state in 
 which it is impossible, or nearly so, for 
 the mind to remain for any time : as 
 it is in fact an abstinence from any deci- 
 sion, or even opinion whatever. A 
 perpetual state of enquiry (QKSKToiiai), with- 
 out any result being produced by it; 
 which 1 believe is incompatible with the 
 nature of the human mind, which cannot 
 go on enquiring, without forming some 
 opinion (whether it continues in it for 
 any time or not) in favor of some system, 
 either of its own, or others' forming, and 
 
16 
 
 rejecting all others, or at least in pre- 
 ference to them ; it cannot remain long 
 in a neutral state. As to religious 
 opinions, it must adopt some one, or else 
 one that is opposed to them all ; that is, 
 Atheism : and even then, if it attempts 
 to reduce its opinion into a system, it 
 must adopt some substitute for a creative 
 and governing Principle of the universe, 
 which it will find, on due examination, to 
 be a mere change of the name (chance, 
 or necessity, or fate, instead of God) and 
 not of the thing ; for it must assign powers 
 to it, which are appropriate only to what 
 it is meant to be a substitute for. 
 
 VII. 
 
 x< Shall He, who made the eye, not see ? 
 Who made the ear, not hear ?" 
 
 That is, the powers which God has 
 bestowed upon his creatures, must ne- 
 cessarily be possessed by himself ; most 
 
17 
 
 probably in a different mode, and cer- 
 tainly in an infinitely higher degree. — 
 Our senses seem to be a sort of medium 
 or vehicle fof our knowledge. That 
 they are capable of various degrees of 
 perfection, and that to a degree we can 
 hardly conceive — we see, in the powers 
 of seeing, hearing, smelling, &c. of dif- 
 ferent animals* 
 
 We know probably much too little of 
 matter, to be able to calculate the diffe- 
 rent modifications of which it is capable. 
 What an extreme attenuation of it there 
 must be in the particles of heat! what 
 activity! &e. Are they subject to the 
 law of gravitation in any degree? how 
 nearly do they approach to a vacuum ? 
 if there is such a thing (or rather such 
 a negation of every tiling). If matter 
 is infinitely divisible, what room is there 
 for a vacuum?* &c. 
 
 * If matter is infinitely divisible, what are its first 
 principles?' 
 
18 
 
 Final causes are perhaps all that we 
 can perceive in the properties of these 
 things, and that only in a very limited 
 degree, but proportioned and suited to 
 our powers and purposes. 
 
 What we call efficient causes, are 
 only effects produced by other causes, 
 (themselves also effects) which we can 
 or cannot discover; for it is a chain of 
 which it is impossible for us to measure 
 the extent.* 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Epicureans seem to lose them- 
 selves in their ideas of the Divine nature. 
 
 * " Glasses (that revelation to the sight !) 
 Have they not led us in the deep disclose 
 Of fine-spun nature, exquisitely small, 
 And tho' demonstrated, still ill-conceived ? 
 Jf then, on the reverse, the mind would mount 
 In magnitude, what mind can mount too far 
 To keep the balance and creation poise." 
 
 (Night Thoughts- Night 9 J 
 This is surely a fine, and, as far as we can judge on such 
 a subject, a well-founded idea* 
 
1:9 
 
 "Nihil curat Deus," say they, sup- 
 posing, that if he had any cares, they 
 would affect him as they do us mortals. 
 (But what an absurd notion !) There- 
 fore, say the Epicureans, there can be 
 no Providence. Then let us add, there 
 can be no Deity. For what is power, 
 wisdom, &c. without agency ? * The 
 application of that agency to the affairs 
 of man may be difficult to conceive (and 
 therefore these philosophers, and per- 
 haps Deists in general, take upon them 
 to deny it); but if we do not admit it, we 
 run into difficulties far greater and more 
 complicated than that we would avoid, 
 which indeed seems to present its own 
 solution ; for if it appears to be beneath 
 the majesty, power, and wisdom of the 
 Deity, that he should concern himself 
 with the affairs of so insignificant, and un- 
 
 * There certainly is an aptitude, at least, in Deism, to 
 deny the agency of a Providence : Revelation therefore 
 was necessary to assure us of it ; which Christianity does 
 (in "numbering even the hairs of our heads,") in the most 
 explicit and most impressive manner. 
 C2 
 
20 
 
 worthy a creature as man,* it is the more 
 demonstrative of his mercy and benevo- 
 lence, that he condescends to do it : and 
 the last are as much his attributes as the 
 first are. That this condescension is 
 wonderful, was felt by the Psalmist (with 
 whom every feeling reader must sympa- 
 thise) when he exclaimed, "Lord, what is 
 man, that thou carest for him, or the son 
 of man, that thou regardest him?" That 
 it was so, he knew, because he felt it :f 
 for, as Lactantius says, (e Sapientia non 
 in sermonis ornatu, sedin corde atque 
 sensuest.^ Human pride maysay other- 
 
 * " Mean though we are, not wholly so, 
 Since quickened by His breath." Pope. 
 If we are his creatures, we cannot be beneath his re- 
 gard. Therefore, says Young, (Night Thoughts, Night 6J 
 
 " His nature no man can o'er-rate ; and none 
 Can under-rate his merit." 
 
 For without a sense of the dignity of our nature (in 
 reference to its origin) and of its capacities, what stimula- 
 tive can we have to improvement ? 
 
 f Will the philosopher say, that feeling is no proof of 
 knowledge? He may assure himself, however, tha't know- 
 ledge can have no influence on the mind, without feeling. 
 Feeling may be said to be at once the spur and the 
 bridle to reason. 
 
21 
 
 wise ; but what is the tendency of pride, 
 when not corrected by reason and feel- 
 ing ? If there is a bias in us to self-love, 
 and to the excess and abuse of it, how 
 can it, when unchecked,* but infect and 
 pervert our opinions? How can it but 
 generate self-conceit ? 
 
 (i Epicuri doctrina hsec est, imprimis 
 nullam esse providentiam. Et idem 
 Deos esse non abnuit, utrumque contra 
 rationem ; nam si sunt Dei, est igitur pro- 
 videntia, aliter enim Deus intelligi non 
 potest, cujus est propriam providere. 
 Nihil (inquit) curat. Ergo non modo 
 humana, sed ne cselestia quidem curat. 
 Quomodo igitur, aut unde, esse ilium 
 affirmas ? exclusa enim providentia cu- 
 
 * And not properly directed. To quote Young again— 
 " Man's lawful pride includes humility." 
 
 Therefore- "Take good heed; 
 
 Nor there be modest, where thou should'st be proud." 
 
 (Same Night.) 
 
 We are perhaps too apt to form our estimate of our 
 nature, from the abuse we make of it : we see it as \vu 
 make it ; and as the case generally stands, the balanee (in 
 a reflecting mind) will perhaps seldom be in favor of 
 pride. Young's poetry is wanted to animate us. 
 
raque divina, consequens erit ut non 
 esseomnino Deum diceres. Nunc eum 
 verbo reliquisti, re sustulisti." &c, 
 
 (Lactantii Epitome Div. Instit. Cap. 96.) 
 
 IX. 
 
 To expect that we should see the im- 
 mediate operations of Providence in the 
 hand that conducts them, or that we 
 should foresee the end of them, would be 
 absurd in the extreme. That we cannot 
 do this, therefore, so far from being an 
 obstacle to our belief of the existence 
 and agency of that Providence, is rather 
 a negative proof in favour of it, our 
 knowledge of it (imperfect as it is) being 
 exactly suited to our state and condi- 
 tion ; and, the abstract reasoning on the 
 necessity of a first intelligent Cause, to 
 which all the chain of causes and effects 
 (the general connection of which is in 
 some measure apparent to our senses) 
 
23 
 
 is subordinate to and dependent upon, 
 subsists in its full force. To suppose an 
 infinite chain of causes and effects self- 
 derived, with an inherent power of ac- 
 tion, but without intelligence, would be 
 the highest absurdity ; or to suppose the 
 continuance of the general action (or 
 whatever else we may chuse to call it) in 
 consequence of an original fiat, while 
 the supreme Cause remains in a state of 
 absolute inactivity, would be nearly as 
 absurd. It is the Epicureans and 
 Horace's "Deos didici securum agere 
 aevum."*Securum? Oman, short-sighted 
 and presumptuous man, what compari- 
 sons dost thou draw! The first great 
 Cause must act, if at all (and what is 
 
 * What docs Horace mean by his " Natura ?"-— This 
 " Mira faciens."—ls Nature an agent ? What then em- 
 powers, what excites her to action ? Is she supreme?— 
 Then a name should be given which will express (as far 
 as a name can express) the only power that can be self* 
 existent— " I am." 
 
 All power must be put in action by intelligence. If 
 otherwise, what but confusion must be produced ? and 
 indeedwhat self-moving principle can there be in matter? 
 What is to give the first impetus, and what is to continue 
 it? 
 
24 
 
 power without agency?) in some mode 
 or other. The mode in which he acts 
 (and which we, I may say, necessarily, 
 see in its effects) we call a chain of na- 
 tural causes.* 
 
 X. 
 
 There are some things perhaps of 
 which our want of knowledge respecting 
 them (paradoxical as it may seem) 
 is no inconsiderable proof,f and the 
 
 * " Say'st thou ' the course of nature governs all?' 
 The course of nature is the art of God." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 9.) 
 " Nothing can satisfy, but what confounds ; 
 Nothing, but what astonishes, is true." Ubid.) 
 And this must be instanced, in whatever attentive in- 
 vestigation we make of the works of nature— that is of 
 nature's God. 
 
 f For who (what reasonable man at least) can doubt the 
 existence of a Supreme Being ? but who can explain the 
 nature of his existence ? The same, when duly considered, 
 may be said of the immortality of the soul. 
 
 There may be cases in which we can see a combination, 
 either from actual observation of the fact, or from our 
 sense of the necessity of it, without our being able (if I 
 may say so) to analyse it. 
 
 The conviction of our ignorance of what we are unable 
 
25 
 
 strongest that we can have, of the 
 reality of their existence. And since 
 ignorance is so essentially attached to 
 our nature, is it not reasonable to expect 
 that we should draw some positive bene- 
 fit from a well-directed sense of it ? 
 
 XI. 
 
 The connection of morality with reli- 
 gion appears to be in no system so well 
 maintained as in the Christian. Deism 
 is in itself a mere speculative system, 
 and offers no immediate motive or 
 interest for the observance of the rules 
 of morality, or for any reverence (at 
 least such as will have an effectual in- 
 fluence upon conduct) for the Supreme 
 Being. For the farther the reasoning 
 
 to attain a knowledge of (which extends to every object 
 of our senses, when our enquiries respecting it are pushed 
 beyond a certain point) must, I think, tend to make us set 
 a proper value upon, and give a proper direction to, the 
 knowledge that lies within our reach. 
 
26 
 
 is carried, upon which this system is 
 founded, the more we shall be inclined 
 to reject the idea of any interference of 
 the Deity with the concerns or conduct 
 of men, as being infinitely below and 
 unworthy of his attention.* A commu- 
 nication then from a higher source is ne~ 
 cessary to persuade us of this. In all 
 established religions this communication 
 has been given or pretended to. It 
 remains to be examined what system of 
 religion has the best right to be credited 
 for the reality of it ; and surely the de- 
 cision will be in favour of the Christian. 
 Tt may be said, that the ancients had a 
 sense of the protection given to man by 
 their gods: as instanced in Juvenal, 
 " Carior est Dims Homo, quam sibi;" 
 but this is the language of feeling,f 
 
 * And if we admit an argument drawn from his good- 
 ness in opposition to this, it must surely operate in favour 
 of Christianity : for there it has its full display. 
 
 And if we do not admit that argument, we leave him no 
 attribute (if I may say so) but pride. 
 
 f It is curious to observe how feeling is sometimes at 
 variance with argument : not, however, with argument 
 
27 
 
 (anil indeed of common sense.) Let us, 
 however, see whether the philosophers 
 (the Epicureans especially) held the 
 same. 
 
 XII. 
 
 What has happened, was to happen ; 
 this perhaps may be ranked among the 
 "primary truths," of which Dr. Oswald 
 speaks in his very sensible work, " An 
 appeal to common sense." It was pro- 
 bably the instinctive (if I may use that 
 term) sense of this, that made the anci- 
 ents suppose an authority which they 
 called " Fate," the " Book" of which 
 their Jupiter was obliged to refer to 
 whenever he wanted to know the events 
 that were to happen. The same idea 
 (or much the same) seems to be eilter- 
 supported by reason ; indeed it is partial reasoning (as is 
 elsewhere observed) that is productive of error ; and tire 
 human mind is prone to both. 
 
28 
 
 tained by those philosophers in modern 
 times, who attribute the course of events 
 in this world to necessity. The same 
 internal conviction, that there is some- 
 thing which controuk and directs the 
 free agency of man, and the difficulty of 
 referring it to the will of a superior 
 Being, consistently with man's exercise 
 of his free agency, appears to make us 
 often use the term chance, when we 
 speak of what is to happen ; though, 
 indeed, it may rather spring from the 
 consciousness of our not being able 
 either to direct or foresee fortuitous 
 events, nor to see any other direction of 
 them : all, however, must be a chain of 
 causes and effects. All these difficulties 
 must arise from the nature and limits of 
 our ideas and knowledge : we cannot 
 conceive how one Being foresees and 
 controuls the actions of another, leaving 
 to him at the same time the freedom of 
 choice and agency : and, apparently to 
 elude the difficulty^ we have recourse 
 
29 
 
 to a mere nonentity, an abstraction from 
 all being whatever ; not considering 
 that in using the terms Fate, Necessity, 
 or Chance, we still suppose an over- 
 ruling agency, only changing the name 
 of the agent. We cannot, therefore, 
 help referring to some power that fore- 
 sees and directs the course of events, and 
 the consequence of human actions, in- 
 dependently of the will and knowledge 
 of man. This power must reside in, and 
 be exercised by, the Supreme Being.* 
 Omniscient as he is, he must foresee our 
 actions and their consequences : omni- 
 potent as he is, he must direct them as 
 he thinks fit. To suppose in him a 
 knowledge of human actions, without 
 
 * For how infallibly must all this reasoning lead to a 
 Supreme Intelligence ! 
 
 These thoughts must, F think, force conviction on the 
 mind ; but, as they require some stretch of attention, we 
 may be apt at times to forget them, and to be influenced 
 by far inferior considerations. Our habits, then, become 
 objects of importance ; for they ought not to be matters 
 of mere impulse, nor yet of inconsiderate imitation or 
 compliance. We must judge for ourselves, and weigh 
 before we judge;— weigh, that we may be better able to 
 do justice, both to others and to ourselves. 
 
any participation in, or influence over 
 them, would be an evident absurdity ;, 
 for to suppose that in the relation be- 
 tween God and man, between the Crea- 
 tor and his creature, there should be a 
 possession of Almighty Power, with all 
 the attributes accompanying it, but with- 
 out any exercise of it or them, is surely 
 the highest absurdity. Respecting the at- 
 tributes of God, little as we can compre- 
 hend the manner in which they display 
 themselves, or how they influence each 
 other, we are equally bound to believe 
 (for to deny it would be as absurd as it 
 would be impious) in his possession of 
 them, each in perfection, each inviolable, 
 and all such as are necessary to consti- 
 tute (if the word may be used) a perfect 
 Being. 
 
31 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " Shall Gravitation cease, as you pass by It 9 
 
 (Pope's Essay on Man.) 
 
 We can speak no further of gravita- 
 tion than as a natural law, ordained by 
 the Author of nature : for the existence 
 of a Supreme Cause> in the great chain 
 of causes and effects, is a truth that im- 
 presses itself (besides the evidence of 
 revealed religion) as forcibly on our 
 minds, as any physical demonstration 
 can do : and He who created the chain 
 can do what he pleases with the links of 
 it : He, who established the laws, can 
 suspend their operation ; we cannot sup- 
 pose that he would limit his own power 
 in the exercise of it.* This general 
 
 * "What less than wonders from the Wonderful ; 
 What less than miracles from God can flow ? 
 Admit a God— that Mystery supreme ! 
 That Cause uncaus'd ! all other wonders cease ; 
 Nothing is marvellous for Him to do: 
 Deny Him— all is mysterv besides." 
 
 (Night Ihoughts— Night 7») 
 
32 
 
 conclusion should surely supersede all 
 reasoning from particulars. It would 
 indeed be highly unreasonable and pre- 
 sumptuous in any individual to expect 
 those laws to be suspended on his ac- 
 count : but let not a generally existing 
 necessity be supposed to controul the 
 power of the Supreme Being ; like the 
 Book of Fate, which Homer's Jupiter 
 was obliged to consult, not to coincide 
 with his prescience, but to supply the 
 want of it. What we cannot compre- 
 hend, it is vain and foolish to attempt to 
 bring within our comprehension: but 
 our belief of what we cannot compre- 
 hend, may be founded on evidence that 
 we can comprehend (sufficiently at least 
 for the purpose), and cannot but assent 
 to. Such are the truths of natural reli- 
 gion, and such are those of revealed, if 
 fairly examined. Let us then submit, 
 adore, and be silent.* 
 
 * "Not deeply to discern, no I much to know, 
 Mankind u r as born to wonder and adore." 
 
 (Night Thoughts— Night 9.J 
 
33 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Some subjects (and none more than 
 those which regard the moral world) 
 are so obscure and complicated, that it 
 is but very imperfectly that we can pene- 
 trate or analyse them, when we observe 
 their results. We must, then, depend on 
 the little knowledge that we have, in 
 forming our conclusions upon them ; and 
 this, with the assistance of the general 
 
 " Who worship God, shall find him. Humble Love, 
 And not proud Reason, keeps the door of heaven ; 
 Love finds admission, where proud Science fails." 
 
 (Ibid.) 
 " The aspiring soul^ 
 Ardent and tremulous, like flame, ascends j 
 Zeal and humility, her wings to heaven. " 
 
 (Ibid-Night 6.) 
 " Thou, whose all-providential eye surveys, 
 Whose hand directs, whose Spirit fills and warms 
 Creation, and holds empire far beyond ! 
 Eternity's inhabitant august ! 
 Of two eternities amazing Lord I 
 Aid, while J rescue from the foe's assault, 
 Thy glorious immortality in man j 
 A theme for ever, and for all, of weight, 
 Of moment infinite ! butrelishM most 
 By those who love thee most, who most adore." 
 
 Ubid.) 
 D 
 
34 
 
 knowledge we have, and the power of 
 drawing conclusions, is sufficient for the 
 purposes of most importance to us.* 
 
 We say that " it has pleased God that 
 such and such things should happen ;" 
 and what we thus say in a manner spon- 
 taneously, or as the result of our general 
 acknowledgment of the omnipotence of 
 the Supreme Being, may I think be re- 
 ferred to the action of common sense, as 
 directing us, independently of any rea- 
 
 * On re-perusing what follows this, which, as well as 
 the other contents of this book, was written as the idea 
 suggested itself, and afterwards here transcribed, I cannot 
 but perceive the want of clearness there is in the latter 
 part of it : such however as it is, it shall stand, with the 
 addition of this corrective observation, viz. that a general 
 reference of all events to .the will of God, must be a 
 primary truth, on which all others depend, and from 
 which they must flow. 
 
 How can we suppose any principles that are indepen- 
 dent of, or prior to, the first and supreme Cause ? or that 
 do not make part of his nature. 
 
 The existence of evil is subservient to the ends of 
 justice, and (I should think) essential to its exercise ; for 
 justice is shewn in discrimination. — (See No. 129.) 
 
 The fact, I believe, is, that we can see and know only in 
 part, yet, so as to be convinced that the different parts of 
 the great whole are essentially connected with each other; 
 but how they combine to form that whole, or why it 
 should be composed of such parts, (otherwise than as it 
 is the will of God) we cannot discover. 
 
35 
 
 soning on the fact, which might tend to 
 raise doubts in our minds of the truth of 
 it, from the difficulty, or rather impossi- 
 bility, of our being able to explain in 
 what manner it takes place, or how far 
 it is reconcileable to other truths that we 
 are obliged to admit. Whatever conse- 
 quences may flow from truths that cannot 
 reasonably be disputed, must also be re- 
 ceived as truths. 
 
 XV. 
 
 What we think, has often to be cor- 
 rected by what we ought to think. I 
 do not mean by this, that we should 
 make a sacrifice of our reason ; but that 
 our reason should examine whatever is 
 before it, with a due sense of its own 
 limited powers, and that the examina- 
 tion should not be a partial one. By 
 observing this rule, if we are not always 
 
 sure of making a right decision, we shall 
 D2 
 
36 
 
 at least be pretty sure of not making a 
 wrong one : and many are the cases in 
 which it is better to suspend our judg- 
 ment, than to run the risque of making 
 an improper use of it : Suspending our 
 judgment is not suspending our opinion ; 
 for 1 believe the human mind is so con- 
 stituted, that it cannot help forming an 
 opinion on whatever it adverts to. 
 Banishing the subject from our thoughts, 
 is a mere diversion of them : but if we 
 must form an opinion, we may prevent 
 its being a decisive one.* When we are 
 admonished to be cautious in forming 
 our judgment, the admonition is given 
 to all. The sources therefore from 
 whence opinions are formed, (when 
 there is any rationality) are common to 
 all : though the modifications of them 
 by our passions, interests, various de- 
 grees of intellect, &c. may be various. 
 
 * f ' Guard well thy thoughts j 
 Our thoughts are heard in Heaven." 
 
 (Night Thoughts.— Night 2.) 
 
37 
 
 In judging of things, especially things 
 of importance, all the consequences 
 which will follow from the conclusions 
 we are inclined to draw, ought to be 
 considered : if any of these are adverse 
 to those conclusions (or I should rather 
 say, exceptionable on other grounds) 
 we ought at least to suspend our judg- 
 ment.* 
 
 XVI. 
 " Whatever is, is right." 
 
 And it must be so : for if we believe 
 in the existence of a Supreme Being, 
 we must attribute to him all the quali- 
 ties that are essential to that supremacy. 
 The follv of Atheism, or a denial of his 
 existence, is sufficiently manifest; and a 
 denial or restriction of his power is little, 
 
 * This seems to be a sort of argumentum ad absurdam ; 
 the conclusions we form cannot be right, if the conse- 
 quences that follow them are wrong, 
 
38 
 
 if at all, short of it : for be must be su- 
 preme in power, and that power must 
 be universally and incessantly in action, 
 whether through the medium (as it ap- 
 pears to us to be) of secondary causes, 
 or not; for what we call secondary 
 causes, are only effects produced by it : 
 but how very limited are our ideas of 
 agency, as indeed of every thing else. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 There are, I believe, few cases, if any, 
 that are at all complicated, which the 
 human mind is capable of examining 
 with all their "bearings and dependen- 
 cies." Partial therefore as our exami- 
 tions must be, it behoves us to be cau- 
 tious, and to a certain degree diffident, 
 of our judgment of them, even after the 
 most mature examination we can make* 
 
39 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 We can form no idea of the non- 
 existence of Time, because it is neces- 
 sary to the state of things in which we 
 exist. But it seems to be merely an 
 appendage to them, being measured by 
 the periodical motions of the heavenly 
 bodies,* and from the succession of 
 events, <fcc. from whence our ideas of it 
 flow. The manner in which the first 
 are performed, and the habit which we 
 
 " From old Eternity's mysterious orb 
 Was Time cut off, and cast beneath the skies : 
 The skies, which watch him in his new abode, 
 Measuring his motions by revolving spheres, 
 That horologe machinery divine." 
 "Time is dealt out by particles ; and each, 
 E'er mingled with the streaming sands of life, 
 By fate's inviolable oath is sworn, 
 Deep silence ' where eternity begins.' " 
 
 (Night Thoughts— Night %) 
 "And is it in the flight of three -score years] 
 To push eternity from human thought, 
 And smother souls immortal in the dust?" 
 
 (Ibid, Night I.) 
 " From dust we disengage, or man mistakes, 
 And there, where least his judgment fears a flaw." 
 
 {Ibid, Night 3.) 
 
40 
 
 have (perhaps derived from them) of 
 dividing time into certain periods, in our 
 historical records of them, seem also to 
 denote an interrupted continuity (if I 
 may say so) of existence. If all that 
 constitutes it is subordinate, time must 
 be so too : and another and higher state 
 may (and we have reason to believe that 
 it actually does) exist, from which time 
 is excluded. When all is resolved into 
 that state, time may be (as we are told 
 it will be) no more. That the state of 
 things to which time appears to be a 
 necessary adjunct and appendage, is 
 merely subordinate, we have the great- 
 est reason to conclude.* Time then is 
 not real, any more than (probably) other 
 appendages to the state of things in 
 
 * Surely if we admit the existence and superiority of 
 " mind," that is of supreme intelligence, of which creation 
 is the result. 
 
 " Mind, mind alone, bear witness, earth and heav'ni 
 The living fountain in itself contains 
 Of beauteous and sublime !" Akenside. 
 
 "What wealth in intellect, that sov'reign pow'r ! 
 Which sense and fancy summon to the bar." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 6\; 
 
4i 
 
 which we exist : but we can form no idea 
 of any other state, because we cannot 
 divest our minds of those ideas which 
 arise from that in which we exist, nor 
 can we form any idea but what arises 
 from them. 
 
 Time is a succession of events, i. e. of 
 changes, to which what is eternal and 
 immutable cannot be subject. Eternity 
 has been described by the schoolmen as 
 a f c punctum stans," which implies an 
 exclusion of time. So the Supreme Being 
 himself is described (in sublimer lan- 
 guage) in the scriptures. 
 
 Time, as it elapses in the course of 
 events, or in the interval between any 
 two, has a certain duration :* but with- 
 out those points of measurement, what 
 would it be ? The same perhaps may be 
 
 * "Time the supreme !— Time is eternity, 
 Pregnant with all eternity can give ; 
 Pregnant with all that makes Archangels smile. 
 Who murders time, he crushes in the birth 
 A pow'r ethereal, only not ador'd." 
 
 {Night Thoughts- Night 2.) 
 That is, while it remains for us to make use of, and when 
 k is considered as a prelude to eternity. 
 
42 
 
 said of space as measured by objects.—* 
 The history of the world is a succession 
 of events. If time is dependent on (or 
 produced by) the events and move- 
 ments of the material world, to suppose 
 it real, would, I think, be to suppose the 
 latter independent, and perhaps infinite 
 and eternal; for the existence of time 
 (as I said before) only appears necessary 
 as an appendage to them. This would 
 lead to materialism, and probably to 
 Spinosism. 
 
 But how little does language inform 
 us of, when we examine it metaphysi- 
 cally, (or rather when we make it the 
 vehicle of metaphysical investigation.)* 
 Let us consider what we mean by, and 
 
 * Is there truth in metaphysics ? Surely there is, how- 
 ever unattainable the knowledge of it is to us. We have 
 however glimpses of these truths ; and those glimpses are 
 sufficient to convince us of the absurdity of making our 
 physical knowledge any scale to measure the other by. 
 We may judge too, I think, in some degree at least, how 
 far analogy will assist us. Without that assistance, no- 
 ideas can be formed ; and as far as analogy (real, not fan- 
 cied) will reach, the ideas that we form may be considered 1 
 as substantial. 
 
43 
 
 what is the extent of the word real. I 
 should think that we may say, that what 
 is relative to us, must to us be real, as 
 relating to our existence and its ends. — 
 But the human mind appears to have a 
 sort of insight into a reality of another 
 kind ; a power of abstracting the objects 
 of its attention from their relation to 
 us and our concerns : this is metaphy- 
 sics, and of this our minds have an idea, 
 a degree, perhaps, of knowledge, though 
 very imperfect. For may we not say, 
 that the power of discussion (limited as 
 it is) implies a degree of knowledge? 
 The power of abstraction in the mind 
 seems to imply a distinction between 
 what is abstracted, and what that is 
 united to ; and that the former is inde- 
 pendent of the latter ; which, on the 
 contrary, appears to depend, for part at 
 least of what constitutes its existence, on 
 the former.* We cannot, indeed, make 
 
 * As being its quality. 
 
44 
 
 this their abstraction in physical cases,* 
 as in the hardness or softness of material 
 substances, &c. nor can we abstract time 
 from the succession of events which con- 
 stitute it. In some cases we seem 
 capable of forming a higher idea of what 
 we abstract than we see realised ; as in 
 poetry, painting, and music ; and in the 
 moral qualities. 
 
 XIX, 
 
 We can reason only from what we 
 know ; our limited power of estimating 
 the probability of future events does not 
 enable us to conceive the power of 
 bringing that estimation to a certain 
 knowledge of them ; but any increase 
 
 * Because the very proofs of their existence are merelv 
 relative : (therefore there is nothing for us to abstract.) 
 The difference here, I think, shews itself between the evi- 
 dence of our senses and the suggestions of our moral 
 feelings, assisted by the deductions of our reason. These 
 must be the most certain, when properly applied to, as 
 being the highest faculties possessed by man. 
 
45 _ 
 
 of power in judging of those probabilities, 
 must be an approach towards a certain 
 knowledge of them, which must be per- 
 fect in the Divine mind* Our inability 
 to go any further than an estimation of 
 probabilities, proceeds, then, from the 
 imperfection of our mental faculties ; 
 as does also our inability to conceive a 
 higher power, which, however, must 
 exist, and perhaps gradually ascend to 
 the highest ; and the power of God in 
 judging certainties, is the highest possi- 
 ble extension of the power of man in 
 judging probabilities. It seems then 
 not unreasonable to suppose, that the 
 power of man in judging probabilities, 
 has some analogy with the power of 
 God in judging certainties ; and that in 
 the exercise of that power, man is said 
 to have been created in the image 
 (however faint) of God. 
 
 Will these arguments tend towards 
 a solution of the difficulty of reconciling 
 the prescience of God with the free 
 agency of man? 
 
46 
 
 XX. 
 
 Before we give way to our doubts 
 of any thing, we should examine well 
 the reasons why we doubt of it ; we are 
 not perhaps enough aware that doubt is 
 a kind of opposition ; it implies an opi- 
 nion formed, (for the mind cannot re- 
 main in total suspense) and it behoves 
 us to examine the grounds upon which 
 that opinion is formed. This will put 
 us on a new field of comparative exami- 
 nation : examining well the grounds of 
 our opinions, will T believe give usasense 
 of our incompetency to attain an abso- 
 lute knowledge of any thing, and con- 
 sequently will incline us to adopt that 
 opinion, (for some opinion, as 1 said 
 before, we must adopt, whatever its ex- 
 tent may be) which has, every thing 
 considered, the best reasons in its favor ; 
 and we shall not look for a degree of 
 
47 
 
 satisfaction which, in our present state, 
 it is impossible for us to obtain.* 
 
 xxr. 
 
 We cannot solve all the difficulties 
 that occur in the moral dispensation of 
 the world we live in ; but as we may be 
 sure, from the soundest reasoning, that 
 there is a Supreme Being, and as the 
 scriptural doctrines, whatever objections 
 we may make to them, are supported by 
 evidence, both external and internal, 
 
 *The "doubt" here spoken of is (as maybe seen) some- 
 thing more than suspense. 
 
 There are, perhaps, few things in which the mind ac- 
 quiesces under a sense of total ignorance : it will find 
 some analogy to assist the idea it attempts to form, 
 the flight it takes in striving to raise itself to those 
 heights to which its own feelings make it aspire. 
 The capacity it has of forming imperfect ideas, must ne- 
 cessarily produce a wish and endeavour to render them 
 more perfect. Imagination will be exerted to assist the 
 reasoning power ; and imagination so employed, is (as is 
 said in a note to No. 74) a mode (a shade) of rea- 
 soning. 
 
 The strongest and best-founded persuasion may require 
 something more than the immediate conclusions of o ur 
 reason to support it ; as including the admission of trot hs 
 which are beyond our comprehension. 
 
48 
 
 that fully evinces the truth of them^ 
 these, if properly considered, with the 
 general conclusions to be drawn from 
 them, and their application to the con- 
 dition of mankind, will give that solution 
 to all our difficulties, and that answer 
 to every objection we can make, that 
 must satisfy our reason, and make our 
 acquiescence an indispensable obligation. 
 Every difficulty cannot well be solved 
 to us, unless things are brought within 
 the reach of our understandings that are 
 now beyond them. The objections must, 
 I apprehend, be answered, and the 
 acquiescence of our reason made obli- 
 gatory r by the satisfaction given to 
 the mind on the most material points. 
 This the scripturescontain ample means 
 of doing: in the investigation of them, 
 indeed, our feelings are as much con- 
 cerned as our reason, and perhaps still 
 more ; but we must take care neither 
 to lose sight of, nor to abuse the latter. 
 
49 
 
 XXII. 
 
 How many would be added to the list 
 
 of believers in Christianity, if every one 
 
 would lay down this rule for himself, 
 
 not to suffer any previous notions or 
 
 prejudices of his own to interfere with 
 
 his fair and complete examination of the 
 
 evidence in favor of the Christian doc- 
 
 * 
 
 trines ! This is the principle that should 
 regulate our determination, and sub- 
 stantiate a system of religious belief. — 
 Mr. Hume seems to have felt the force 
 of this., and in opposition to it to have 
 advanced his absurd notion of a previous 
 probability or improbability, which was 
 to confirm or to preclude the authority 
 of all evidence whatever. What right 
 or power (sanctioned by reason) can we 
 have to form that extensive and un- 
 bounded judgment of probability? But 
 Mr. Hume miscalled it : instead of pro 
 
50 
 
 bability, he should have said possibility, 
 for that is the principle on which he 
 reasons.* Had he avowed it, the ab- 
 surdity of his reasoning would have been 
 more apparent. 
 
 xxnr. 
 
 A distinction is certainly to be made 
 between probability and possibility ; 
 and also a determination to what sub- 
 jects, and in what manner, reasoning 
 from each will apply : for the applica- 
 tion may be either direct, or through the 
 medium of other reasoning. It is proba- 
 
 * For what he considers as improbable, he decides upon 
 as impossible : for so it must be, to justify an absolute 
 exclusion of all belief. \f a thing is possible, it surely 
 admits of evidence that will make it probable. Till, how- 
 ever that evidence is given, it must be considered as 
 merely possible. The admission of this may not imply 
 reception, but it certainly is not consistent with rejection. 
 In admitting the possibility of a thing, we should hold 
 ourselves in suspense, and open to further information ; 
 duly considering, at the same time, how far that informa- 
 tion is likely to be obtained, what are the means of attain- 
 ment, and how far that attainment is of importance. 
 
51 
 
 ble that such or such an event will 
 happen, because a similar event hap- 
 pened before under similar circum- 
 stances, and because it is agreeable to 
 the common course of nature. But an 
 event may be said to have happened, 
 which has no such analogy or proba- 
 bility, the truth, however, of which is 
 proved by evidence (and that of various 
 kinds) sufficiently strongs when fairly 
 examined, to overcome all the objections 
 that can be made from the improbabi- 
 lity (for impossible we can have no right 
 to call it) imputed to it. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 In the attention we are to pay to the 
 evidences of the truth of Christianity, 
 we are required to make use of our rea- 
 son in judging of them, and we are 
 addressed to as beings competent to 
 
 form that judgment, and to u give a 
 E2 
 
52 
 
 reason for our faith." These evidences 
 then are "the things that are seen," and 
 are to vouch for "the things unseen," 
 as to which, being beyond (far beyond) 
 the reach of our comprehension, we are 
 to be " as children,"* and (as it were) 
 as " fools," that is, sensible of our 
 entire incompetency to understand 
 them, whatever notions we may be 
 be induced to form of the majesty f of 
 the Supreme Being, as being incompati- 
 ble with the communications given in 
 the sacred writings, &c. 
 
 * In the ideas we form of the Christian dispensation, 
 we are too apt to be influenced by those we entertain of 
 the power of God, without considering his other attributes. 
 These he must have, and these we must learn from the 
 gospel. God is just and merciful ; his justice is tempered 
 with mercy, and his mercy does not trespass upon his 
 justice. 
 
 + What is the respect that we pay to his majesty, when 
 we limit his benevolence ? 
 
 " O how Omnipotence 
 Is lost in love !" (Night Thoughts— Night 4.) 
 
53 
 
 XXV. 
 
 A due attention to possibility and 
 probability, and to the evidences on 
 which the latter is founded (for the 
 former admits of few* or none) will be 
 of much use in guiding our belief as 
 well of things beyond, as those that are 
 within our comprehension. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 If the evidence in favor of Christianity 
 greatly outweighs any objections that 
 may be made against it, we must believe 
 it to be true. To ascertain this, our 
 examination of it must be a fair one r 
 
 * That is, when it is considered as mere possibility ; 
 with further evidence it becomes probability. If this 
 extension cannot be made, in what light are we to consider s 
 the Supreme Cause of all ? or how are we to admit his 
 existence ? 
 
54 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Of the many benefits which the Chris- 
 tian Religion has conferred upon man- 
 kind, the principal is the assurance it 
 gives of a future life, and the promise 
 of a happy one, on the conditions it pre- 
 scribes. The first of these is faith in 
 its promises and doctrines. But is this 
 faith arbitrarily required of us ? No ! 
 our reason* and our feelings are both 
 
 Thus Young, {Night Thoughts, Night A)" 
 " Reason re-baptis'd me when adult ; 
 Weigh'd true, and false, in her impartial scale ; 
 My heart became the convert of my head, 
 And made that choice, which once was but my fate. 
 On argument alone my faith is built. 
 Reason pursued is faith ; and unpursued, 
 
 Where proof invites, 'tis reason then no more. 
 
 ****** 
 
 A Christian is the highest style of man ; 
 
 And is there, who the blessed cross wipes off, 
 
 As a foul blot, from his dishonor'd brow ? 
 
 If angels tremble, tis at such a sight : 
 
 The wretch they quit desponding of their charge ; 
 
 More struck with grief or wonder who can tell? 
 
 ****** 
 
 Believe, and show the reason of a man ; 
 Believe, and taste the pleasure of a God j 
 
55 - 
 
 appealed to ; our reason in judging of 
 the evidence by which the truth of those 
 doctrines, and the origin from whiph 
 they proceed, are attested; and our 
 feelings, in applying the promises, pre- 
 cepts, and doctrines of the scriptures, to 
 all that concerns our satisfaction with 
 ourselves, our ideas of moral excellence, 
 our enjoyment of happiness here, and 
 our (hopes «of far greater -hereafter. 
 Happiness, indeed, is so anuch our 
 *' being's end and aim," that I believe a 
 ^eaLand steady desire of it is theibest 
 guide t© it : ithatthe more we desire it, 
 ifehe nearer we are likely to approach to 
 ift; 'because there is something in our 
 nature rtlhat will direct us ; that is, with 
 
 Believe, and look .with triumph on the tomb : 
 Thro' reason's wounds alone thy faith can die. 
 
 »# ,* * nt ' .# *# 
 
 Reason the root ; fair faith is but the flow'r : 
 "The fading flow'r shall die ; but reason lives, 
 
 Immortal as her Father in the skies, 
 'When faith is virtue, reason makes it so. 
 'Wrong not the Christian— think not reason your's $ 
 
 'Tis reason our great Master holds so dear ; 
 
 'Tis Reason's voice obey'd, his glories crown; 
 
 To give lost reason life,; he pour'dhis own." 
 
56 
 
 the assistance which has been given to 
 us. This will be amply found in the 
 Christian doctrines. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 We may consider it as a certainty, 
 that if the happiness of a future life is, 
 to those who have merited or not for- 
 feited it, such as it is represented in the 
 scriptures, the authority of which, suffi- 
 cient as it is in itself, is equally in accord 
 with our reason and our feelings, when 
 they are unperverted and unvitiated, it 
 will be far, we may say infinitely, more 
 than a compensation for all the troubles 
 and sufferings we may undergo in this 
 life :* and regarded as such., it fully 
 
 * How sure we are, that referring every thing to the will 
 of God is the best mode of explaining all events, good or 
 bad, and the best consolation for the affliction which our 
 misfortunes give us! and yet how difficult it often is to 
 make that consolation adequate to the affliction we feel I 
 How necessary, therefore^ to make that reference and 
 
57 
 
 shews the value, the necessity of thai 
 patience, which is so much recommended 
 and enjoined in the Scriptures, as ac- 
 companying and including all the exer- 
 tions we can make to "do well." All 
 the occupations and amusements of life 
 are, I believe, only to be considered as 
 diversions of our thoughts from preying 
 upon themselves, unless they are pur- 
 sued with that regard for the end of it, 
 and for what is to follow, which is their 
 proper direction. The use too, and 
 necessity of patience in this life, inde- 
 pendently of the scriptural recommenda- 
 tions of it, and the ultimate object for 
 which they are given, must be felt by 
 all who have experienced the trials of 
 life,* and know what is required to 
 
 resignation fully adequate to its purpose, were the hopes 
 that are given us, of a future compensation for what we 
 suffer here ! How perfectly consonant to all the ideas 
 that our reason, ''all sacred reason," (Night Thoughts,., 
 Night 4) can form, of the justice and the mercv of God! 
 Bristol Hotwells, March?, 1821. 
 
 *- — ; ; " Levins fit. patien tin 
 
 Quiequid corrigere est nefas." 
 
58 
 
 enable us to bear them ; and this is 
 another proof how much the scriptural 
 precepts are calculated to answer the 
 immediate purposes of our existence 
 here, as well as what is to follow it 
 hereafter. Here we are beset with cares 
 and troubles ; tc nunc vino tentas, nunc 
 somno pellere curam; Frustra, nam pre- 
 mit atra comes sequiturque fugacem," 
 is the frank confession of Horace, in 
 making his servant Davus thus address 
 him. And what is this ei atra comes" 
 which we cannot drive away or fly from, 
 but the sense of the want of happiness, 
 and of the requisites for its enjoyment? 
 " Wine and sleep" are but temporary 
 reliefs ; the first, like other violent re- 
 medies, only makes the evil worse, when 
 its intoxicating effect is over ; the second 
 indeed, refreshes our spirits and our 
 hopes, and makes us begin each day as 
 it were with a new prospect; but then it- 
 self requires, generally, some peace of 
 mind to procure it. The best and most 
 
59 
 
 permanent remedy must be a well regu- 
 lated mind Influenced by a sense of the 
 duties which religion prescribes, and by 
 faith in its doctrines and promises** 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 How imperfect are the ties which 
 Deism has upon the human mind, com- 
 pared with those of Christianity ! A 
 Deist may reason himself into more 
 than half an Atheist : can a Christian ? 
 But (says the Deist) 1 had rather be 
 
 * There is, no doubt, a prospect, 
 
 " Which makes us rather bear the ills we have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of." 
 
 But there is also a prospect of a compensation for the ills 
 we -have. And what a compensation 1 "Eye hath not 
 seen," &c. 
 
 This was wanting, that justice might be crowned with 
 mercy: and this want has been amply supplied by the 
 promises of the gospel. To obtain the benefit of them, 
 what is required of us ? Faith and good works — patience 
 in well-doing. 
 
 "even the best must own, 
 Patience and resignation are the pillars 
 Of human peace on earth." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night S.) 
 
60 
 
 under the incertitude which necessarily 
 attaches itself to human ignorance, than 
 purchase security by the abandonment 
 of opinion. Perhaps so : but will your 
 feelings allow you to remain quiet in a 
 state which you must acknowledge is 
 exposed to so much danger.* 
 
 The Deist, however, would hardly 
 make this acknowledgment; probably 
 concealing it equally from his neighbour 
 and himself; such is the force of human 
 pride !* 
 
 XXX. 
 
 It has been said, that it would be the 
 greatest miracle of all, if the facts and 
 doctrines of the Christian religion should 
 be false: that is ? we have the strongest 
 reasons that we can have to believe them 
 
 * And what is this opinion that you will not abandon 2 
 What, when fairly estimated ? 
 
61 
 
 to be true. The more we examine them, 
 the more we shall be convinced that it 
 is impossible that they could be the re- 
 sult of mere human contrivance : to 
 suppose them therefore to be false, is to 
 make deception originate in a source far 
 above our nature, and to be sanctioned 
 by the highest power in the universe : a 
 supposition equally impious and ab- 
 surd.* 
 
 * " What most surprises in the sacred page, 
 Or full as strange, or stranger, must be true." 
 
 {Night Thoughts- Night 7 J 
 
 We certainly want someihing more than the mere sug- 
 gestions of our own minds (which indeed would not occur 
 without some previous information) to assure us of the 
 truth of religion, and to make us feel the force of its pre- 
 cepts, and the comfort of its promises. Natural religion 
 can only be considered as a basis for revealed. Let not 
 therefore our prejudices preclude us from an examination 
 of the latter, which, when fairly made, must end in convic- 
 tion. 
 
 What, indeed, would be our sense of natural religion, 
 if we had received no information or communication what- 
 ever ? It is, then, by comparing what has been received, 
 that we are enabled to select that which best deserves it. 
 
XXXI; 
 
 The ancient governments abounded 
 in instances of cruelty, injustice, op- 
 pression, and immoralities of every kind. 
 By degrees, nations have become more 
 humanised, and, in our times, society 
 may be said to have attained the highest 
 pitch of urbanity ; and the administra- 
 tion of government is regulated by prin- 
 ciples of justice and morality ; at least 
 its operations are professedly directed 
 to those ends, and in all public addresses 
 and communications, are reconciled to, 
 (or at least attempted to be so) and 
 defended upon, those principles : and 
 whenever they are swerved from, or in 
 any degree violated,, we may attribute it 
 to the natural imperfection of humanity 
 and its establishments,* varying in its 
 
 * Which imperfection may be expected to shew itself 
 as well in the people who are governed, as in their go- 
 vernors— 
 
63 
 
 effects according to ih& various modes 
 of government subsisting, but in all (in 
 Europe) productive of much fewer evils 
 than may be found in the history of the 
 ancient governments. To what is this 
 amelioration to be attributed ? to the 
 acquirement of knowledge? But the 
 ancients were possessed of that in so 
 great a degree, that they are considered 
 as our masters. To the natural changes 
 that have taken place among mankind ? 
 But these must have had their causes, 
 and those powerful ones, whose effects 
 have had a general and pervading in- 
 fluence. What can have had this in- 
 fluence but Christianity ? 
 
 Let those who are dissatisfied with the effects which 
 Christianity has produced, consider whether any other 
 code could have been formed, better calculated to produce 
 beneficial ones. If they think this has failed in its effect, 
 to what will they ascribe it ? Is it too good for us ? Would 
 they, by lowering it, lovver the standard of rectitude ? Are 
 its doctrines too mysterious ? What would they substi- 
 tute in lieu of them I And under what authority I 
 
64 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The veracity and tenacity of human 
 opinions only seems to shew what strong 
 proofs there must be to overcome pre- 
 judices; and perhaps there may be 
 those which no proofs can overcome ; 
 for how much may our opinions depend 
 upon our passions ?* The present state 
 of the Jews is a plain fulfilment of a 
 prophecy, in an event which, however 
 it may he accounted for by natural 
 causes (and by what else are events to 
 be produced ?) is in itself unparalleled, 
 and not, but by inspiration, to have been 
 foreseen. The history of the Jews seems 
 but to make a part of the insolvable 
 mystery of human (under divine) 
 agency and responsibility. In their 
 present state, — 
 
 * Obstinacy may sometimes be the strong hold of 
 ignorance. 
 
65 
 
 "■ As unfulfill'd, th' endearing words they view, 
 And blind to truth, yet own their Prophets true.'' 
 (Crabb's Borough, page 54.) 
 
 And how can we expect the prejudices 
 in which they are born and educated* 
 to be overcome, but by means which will 
 supersede all that influences the mind 
 of man ? 
 
 XXXIII. 
 Reason appears to be but a secondary 
 agent in the human mind ; it is gene- 
 rally subservient to its feelings or pas- 
 sions, to the bias which it has received 
 from education, to its constitutional 
 inclination, &c. Thus, as Hudibras 
 says, 
 
 "A man convinced against his will, 
 "Is of the same opinion still." 
 
 And this may account for the obstinacy 
 of infidelity in religion. Rousseau says, 
 that " if he had even been an eye witness 
 
66 
 
 of the miracles performed by our 
 Saviour, they would not have convinced, 
 but only confounded him." — What sort 
 of conviction did he want? If that 
 arising from perfect comprehension, 
 what is to guard us against Atheism ?* 
 Thus the Jews resisted a]l the evidence 
 to which our Saviour appealed, in the 
 works he did, &c. Neither these, nor 
 the writings of Moses and the prophets, 
 sufficed to convince them of his being 
 the Christ, the promised Messiah, Their 
 hearts were prepossessed and hardened ; 
 even the last confirmation of his Divinity 
 in his resurrection, strengthened as it 
 was by the very precautions taken by 
 them to prevent any suppositious means 
 
 * Nothing that I know of; for if no solid reasons can 
 be given (as certainly they cannot) in favor of Atheism, 
 the force of those on the opposite side may be much 
 weakened by our inability to comprehend them in their 
 fullest extent ; and thus an opening may be made for 
 doubt. This deficiency must be supplied by our feelings : 
 but how often are they themselves defective or perverted ! 
 But how strongly does all this shew the necessity of the 
 Christian revelation. In that, the appeal both to reason 
 (in what it can comprehend) and to feeling, is as strong 
 as it can be made. 
 
67 
 
 of procuring the belief of it, failed to 
 convince them. Conviction, then, is 
 dependent on the will, the predisposi- 
 tion, &c. The difficulty indeed of re- 
 ferring to its proper and primary source, 
 seems to have given rise to Calvinism. 
 We want the Divine grace to prevent, 
 to assist, and confirm, and perhaps even 
 to beget at first in us good dispositions; 
 this, with the sense of the unlimited 
 power and knowledge of the Almighty, 
 with the exaggerated, partial, and ex- 
 clusive interpretation of some texts of 
 scripture, has made it to be imagined 
 that the fate of individuals is determined 
 by previous and irreversible decrees ; 
 which, if true, would leave no room 
 either for the mercy of God, or the free 
 agency, and consequently the responsi- 
 bility, of man ; and would (as Mr. 
 Southey observes in his life of Wesley, 
 vol. 1. page 361) " render the Gospel a 
 mockery, and many of the texts in it 
 
 mere delusions/' 
 
 F2 
 
68 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 " It is certain that men are capable of 
 comprehending some truths, and of 
 judging of evidence in some cases : why 
 then should they not be competent, by 
 the use of their natural faculties, to 
 understand that Jesus was the promised 
 Messiah ?" (Bishop Tomline's Refuta- 
 tion of Calvinism, page 101.) Surely 
 they are so competent : and it is to that 
 competency (in the exercise of their 
 reason) that our Saviour appeals, to 
 judge of the truth of his mission from 
 the evidence of it, in " the words that 
 were spoken, the deeds that were done 
 by him, and the fulfilment of the pro- 
 phecies which were acknowledged by 
 the Jews to relate to the Messiah that 
 was to come, as the Redeemer of the 
 world." In the understanding of every 
 thing that is contained in the scriptures, 
 
69 
 
 we are to trust to the fair and proper use 
 of our reason, for to that (with the dis- 
 positions that are consonant to it) they 
 are addressed, and to the examination of 
 them (as a test) it is fully equal. But 
 this examination must not be a par- 
 tial one ; if we meet with a passage, the 
 literal and unqualified interpretation 
 of which would be contradictory to, 
 or at variance with, other passages of 
 equal authority, we are so to qualify it, 
 as to reconcile the different passages to 
 each other: if they did not admit of this 
 being done, in a reasonable manner and 
 with proper allowances being made, the 
 authority of the scriptures themselves 
 would be materially shaken by it, and 
 the whole would be liable to be con- 
 strued and perverted, asthe passions, 
 interests, or caprices of particular per- 
 sons or sects might incline them : but 
 there is nothing in the scriptures that is 
 not, singly or collectively, perfectly 
 agreeable to, if not always fully com- 
 
70 
 
 prehensible by, our reason* and feelings: 
 and there can be no reasonable hesitation 
 between the alternatives of understand- 
 ing some passages in the modified sense 
 before mentioned, and the understand- 
 ing them in such a manner, as that the 
 reception of one must necessitate the 
 rejection of the other.f 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The attempt to establish what is called 
 by some "Rational Christianity" would,$ 
 
 * Certainly " agreeable" to our reason, if it is made a 
 proper use of, and with a due sense of its own limitations. 
 
 f Which woukl have the consequence before mentioned 
 respecting the scriptures ; a consequence which needs the 
 aid of no other argument to add to its force. 
 
 X And which appears to be the tendency of Unitarian- 
 ism. But what must be the disposition of those who find, 
 in the history of our Saviour, any thing less than the 
 marks of Divinity ? What, at least, must be their error — 
 their blindness I Surely this is is not the use, but the 
 abuse, the perversion of reason. 
 
 The doctrine of the Unitarians seems to be an improve- 
 ment upon (or rather an aggravation of) what Jack did in 
 Swift's " Tale of a Tub." Jack (I quote from memory) 
 stripped religion of its ornamental trappings*: he left it 
 naked indeed ; but the Unitarians (ut "nequiores") have 
 done something more. 
 
71 
 
 if it succeeded, tend rather to destroy 
 than promote the end proposed by it. — 
 For if Christianity was reduced to the 
 standard, and brought within the com- 
 prehension of reason, its divine origin, 
 and consequently its sanctity, would no 
 longer be allowed. It would be re- 
 garded as the mere work of reason, and 
 perhaps human invention, and be liable 
 to be changed as circumstances or ca- 
 price might dictate, iieligion may, and 
 does (the Christian especially) accord 
 with the human feelings and interests, 
 but its authority must be derived from 
 a higher and better source than the mere 
 dictates (mutable and erring as they 
 are) of those feelings and interests.* 
 
 Reason, so far from rejecting what is 
 above its comprehension, requires it in 
 matters of religion, as coming from a 
 power which is itself infinitely above its 
 
 * Our feelings are given us to receive impressions, and 
 not to make them ; indeed the dictation of feeling implies 
 an impression already made. Of what importance, then, 
 is the source from which that impression is derivedl 
 
72 
 
 comprehension. It requires only to be 
 satisfied of the truth of the doctrines of 
 that religion by evidence which is itself 
 within its comprehension, and, as far as 
 it reaches, proves the truth of these com- 
 munications which themselves relate to 
 matters beyond the comprehension of 
 human reason, and are therefore in- 
 capable of being demonstrated to it.— • 
 But to prepare our minds for this satis- 
 faction, we must divest ourselves of 
 those prejudices, which a little fair at- 
 tention to the nature of our minds will 
 convince us are treacherous, and there- 
 fore dangerous guides. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 In the establishment and progress of 
 a religion, human means must be re- 
 sorted to, as the instrument, unless an 
 immediate miracle is operated and con- 
 tinued : and even that must be in some 
 
73 
 
 sort adapted to the condition of human 
 nature; or else that nature must be 
 totally changed. If human means are 
 made the instruments, they must be in 
 some measure adapted to the state of 
 the times when the promulgation takes 
 place. Either, then, we must regulate 
 our ideas of a religion by what the con- 
 ditions of human nature require and 
 necessitate, or else we must consider 
 mankind as totally unqualified for the 
 reception of any religion at all that is 
 founded in truth : and with this general 
 disqualification, we must also consider 
 ourselves individually as being capable 
 of judging, and competent to receive or 
 reject whatever religion is offered to us, 
 according as our opinions or inclinations 
 may lead us ; and of substituting in its 
 stead the mere suggestions of our own 
 minds, without running any risque of 
 deviating from or violating truth.* 
 
 * Such are the absurdities and inconsistencies that result 
 from unfair examination. 
 
14 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Christianity may make a philosopher 
 doubt, but it will make a reasonable 
 man believe. Indeed I think there is 
 no real medium between Christianity and 
 Atheism: the former, wheitf/ht rty exa- 
 mined, will be found supported by such 
 a weight of evidence* that the rejection 
 of it will leave no principles in the mind 
 to substantiate any other system of re- 
 ligious belief. Deism, then, indepen- 
 dently of some observations and reason- 
 ings that can have no firm hold on the 
 
 * " In his blest life 
 I see the path, and in his death the pric v 
 And in his great ascent the proof supreme,. 
 Of immortality. And did he rise ? 
 Hear, O ye nations ! hear it, O ye dead ! 
 He rose S he rose ! he burst the bars of death !" 
 
 {Night Thoughts- Night 4.) 
 The only question that needs to be asked is this : Is the 
 scriptural history of our Saviour true, or is it not ? Rea- 
 son says, "I have examined, and I can say that it surely 
 is." ^\hat more, then, can we require ? Therefore, 
 
 " Bound ev'ry heart, and ev'rv bosom burn." 
 
 am 
 
T5 
 
 mind, will be founded on a merearbi- 
 trary supposition ; and the desolate void 
 of Atheism will be the real state of the 
 mind when left to its own conclusions.* 
 What reasonable man, then, will be any 
 other than a Christian ? — 
 
 (Extracted from a letter sent to the Gentleman's Maga- 
 zine, and inserted in it.) 
 
 XXXVHI, 
 
 " Tuou turnest man to destruction : again thou 
 sayest, Return, ye children of men." — Psalm xc. 3. 
 
 One generation is succeeded by ano- 
 ther: and when we consider what passes 
 in the world, we are tempted to say, for 
 what purpose ?— so vain are all the 
 pursuits of this life, so reprehensible 
 many of them, and so unsatisfactory, so 
 alloyed with pain and sorrow are its 
 
 * If the Deist would fairly examine his opinions, I think 
 he would find this to be the case. But how little inclined 
 we are in general (from various causes) to follow our 
 opinions to their consequences, necessary as that is to< 
 enable us to judge of the soundness of them. 
 
76 
 
 highest enjoyments ; alloys that are felt 
 the more as our capacity for and desire 
 of those enjoyments are greater. This 
 state, then, cannot be the final end of 
 our existence ; it must be an interme- 
 diate one, or state of trial,* and our 
 
 * If life is a state of trial, what makes it so ? Is it not the 
 combat of two opposite principles in man ? If the bad 
 principle prevail in this trial, evil must be generated : and 
 thus the reasons for the existence of evil upon the earth, 
 and for a future state of retribution, appear to alternate 
 with, and mutually to explain each other— indeed to ne- 
 cessitate each other: for without a future state, what 
 compensation would there be for the evil that exists ? 
 and what then should we think of Divine justice ? In this 
 reasoning, the free agency of man is of course included ; 
 for the total absence of evil would leave him without a 
 choice, and all merit, all discrimination, would be banished 
 from the universe. What room would there then be for 
 justice? 
 
 God, whose H mercy is everlasting," and whose " truth 
 endureth from generation to generation," sees not those 
 generations pass away, one after another into annihilation. 
 They pass away indeed, but from this transitory life into 
 a permanent one, in another and a better world ; a better 
 world for those who have not, by their conduct here de- 
 prived themselves of the benefits which his mercy and his 
 truth have promised in the gospel. 
 Bristol Hotwells, March 9, 1821. 
 
 "Heav*nis all love ; all joy in giving joy ; 
 
 It never had created but to bless. 
 
 And shall it, then, strike off the list of life 
 
 A being blest, or worthy to be so ? 
 
 Heav'n starts at an annihilating God. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Nature's first wish is endless happiness : 
 
77 
 
 hopes of real happiness ("our being's 
 end and aim") must be directed to the 
 compensations of another and a better 
 world. It is impossible, consistently with 
 the goodness and justice of our Creator, 
 that this expectation should be illusive ; 
 
 Annihilation is an after-thought, 
 A monstrous wish, unborn till virtue dies : 
 And oh ! what depth of horror lies inclos'd ! 
 For non-existence no man ever wish'd, 
 But first he wish'd the Deity destroy'd." 
 
 {Night Thoughts—Night 7.) 
 The more we consider the state of things such as we 
 see them, the more reason we find for belief in the doc- 
 trines contained in our religion ; the more we find them to 
 be such as that state requires. That the lights we thus 
 obtain are not sufficient to illumine the whole of the dis- 
 pensation, might well be expected from the imperfect 
 state of our faculties ; but sufficient, snrely very sufficient, 
 are those increasing lights which tend to confirm our faith 
 and to encourage our hopes. 
 
 In speaking (as is done in the preceding page) of the 
 justice of God, it w T ould be high presumption indeed to 
 suppose that justice implicated any further than would be 
 perfectly consistent with the exercise (great as it is) of his 
 bounty. But are we to suppose that false promises are 
 held out to us, and delusive hopes encouraged, only to be 
 disappointed ? And are we tried, sometimes to the ut- 
 most of our bearing, and no result to follow ? Impos- 
 sible. 
 
 If we are to '* work out our salvation with fear and 
 trembling," that is, with a solicitude that must increase in 
 proportion to the attention we pay to its ultimate object, 
 the uncertainty of the issue must be necessary to keep 
 alive that solicitude ; and a greater degree of certitude 
 (for enough is given to encourage hope) would be incom- 
 patible with it. 
 
78 
 
 and it would be equally absurd to sup- 
 pose that the fulfilment of it will 
 be unconditional and indiscriminate : 
 accordingly the conditions on which it 
 will be fulfilled, are held out to us in a 
 book that we are too apt to neglect, 
 and even sometimes, with monstrous in- 
 gratitude, to vilify : ingratitude that can 
 only be excused on the supposition of 
 insanity. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " Hope springs eternal in the human breast, 
 "Man never is, but always to be blest." 
 
 {Pope's Essay on Man.) 
 
 If this is true, and I believe it is, with 
 respect to that enjoyment of happiness 
 which will really satisfy the human mind, 
 what other reliance can we have for its 
 attainment than upon hope, and the 
 foundations upon which it rests ? But 
 these must be strong ; and what sronger, 
 
79 
 
 what higher hope can we have, than that 
 of a future life, and the promises with 
 which the assurance of it is accompanied? 
 Therefore, 
 
 ' e Lord, to thee each night and day, 
 "Strong in hope, we sing and pray." 
 
 Nothing is more sure, than that the 
 enjoyment of happiness is the great ob- 
 ject of man; the desire is inseparable 
 from his thoughts and actions ; it is as it 
 were the primum mobile of the human 
 mind; it is, in short, u our being's 
 end and aim." And it is equally sure, 
 that complete unalloyed happiness is not 
 to be found in any possession this life 
 can afford. Where then shall we find 
 it but in the hopes of a future ? But the 
 mere consciousness of this hope, uni- 
 versal as it may be, is not a sufficient 
 security for its being realised. We may 
 call it a mere propensity of the mind, a 
 creature of the imagination, &c. It 
 requires some further confirmation ; 
 where shall we find it? Open the bible, 
 and read it there. 
 
Cicero expresses a strong desire of a 
 future life, and even a hope of it, though 
 he speaks of it as a matter of great un- 
 certainty. He wanted the assurance 
 that Christianity has given us. And let 
 it be remembered, that the Being, from 
 whose authority this assurance has 
 been given, has declared himself to be 
 "the God of the Gentiles as well as the 
 Jews .;" that is, the God of all mankind. 
 Horace, too, the lively and sensual, but 
 also the sensible and intelligent Horace, 
 says of himself, "Parcus Deorum cul- 
 tor et infrequens, insanientis dum sa- 
 pientiae consultus erro, nunc retrorsum 
 vela dare, atque iterare cursus cogor 
 relictos ;" — and the inducement he very 
 naturally assigns for this is, his having 
 observed the awful phenomena of na- 
 ture., and the events and changes in the 
 moral world, which can only be reason* 
 ably accounted for by the admission of 
 a divine and overruling Power. The ex* 
 istence of that Power, Christianity has 
 
81 
 
 given us a further assurance of; it has 
 also given us its attributes (those of the 
 Being who possesses it) of which Ihe two 
 principal are justice and mercy. It has 
 indeed given us doctrines, the belief of 
 which, we may venture to say, would 
 not have been required of us, if 
 they had not been sanctioned by the 
 strongest evidence that the declaration 
 of them proceeded from God. As our 
 reason as well as our feelings is appealed 
 to in requiring the belief of this,* the 
 interpretation of the doctrines delivered 
 is also left to the same arbitration, to a 
 certain degree at least. The joint 
 operationf of our reason and our feel- 
 ings, properly regulated and influencing 
 each other, will then, with the Divine 
 assistance, direct us what conclusion we 
 
 * On the strength of the evidence that supports it 
 
 f In this joint operation, each of these faculties should, 
 I believe, be restricted to its proper limits. If either of 
 thein overstep those, one of these two mischiefs will be 
 produced :^ the predominance of reason, uninfluenced by 
 feeling, will beget a cold scepticism ; that of feeling, un- 
 checked by reason, will be carried into bigotry aad 
 fanaticism. 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 are to come to, and at what point we 
 are to stop in the interpretation of those 
 mysterious doctrines ; and what applica- 
 tion we are to make of them, regarding 
 ourselves and our real interests here 
 and hereafter. A.nd however the vary- 
 ing intelligences, passions, interests, or 
 caprices of men may multiply the dif- 
 ferences of opinions on these points, if 
 the reason of mankind has an object 
 given it to which to fix itself, short of 
 that intelligence to which it must be 
 aware that it cannot in its present state 
 arrive, it seems probable that that object 
 and the limit at which it is placed, will 
 fix the majority of opinions, and render 
 permanent the cause of truth. Thus 
 " Veritas magna est, et praevalebhV' 
 
 XL. 
 
 The opposition of the two 'deities 
 (or rather principles) of Eros and 
 
83 
 
 Anferos, in the mythology of the 
 heathens, is, I think, a strong proof of 
 the high idea they (at least those among 
 them who had thought and feeling 
 enough for it) entertained of the Divine 
 nature, to which the sentiment of love 
 approaches as near as can well be 
 imagined ; but to give it this eleva- 
 tion, it must be separated (as it appears 
 to be in that opposition) from all sen- 
 suality or impurity whatever. And 
 do not the doctrines and evidences 
 of Christianity afford a most powerful 
 aid and confirmation to these natural 
 suggestions ?•* 
 
 * Benevolence is every thing : it comprises and crowns 
 all the other virtues : the sum mum bonum must be the 
 end of all exertion, all action ; and every single good 
 action that is done, is a step towards it. The whole, in- 
 deed, of life, that is, of the enjoyment of it — and what is 
 life without enjoyment ? — is included in this: whether the 
 kindly or unkindly feelings predominate in our bosoms, 
 and shew themselves in our actions and conduct. 
 
 " To love and know, in man 
 
 Is boundless appetite, and boundless power ; 
 And these demonstrate boundless objects too. 
 
 /Night Thoughts, Night 7.) 
 " Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree', 
 And height of bliss but height of charity." 
 
 {Pope's Essay on Man.) 
 G2 
 
84 
 
 XLI. 
 
 All the claims which we have upon 
 each other, in a religious or moral point 
 of view, seem to be comprehended in 
 the description given by St. Paul of 
 Charity ; and those claims are stronger 
 in proportion as our addresses to that 
 are sincerer. All the rest, perhaps, de- 
 ligbtfulas our partialities may be (though 
 sometimes, perhaps often, dangerous) is 
 in fact little more than accident, worldly 
 interest, or caprice, or at least, opinion. 
 To reconcile these to reason and religion, 
 they must be founded on charity. This 
 
 may be considered as one proof of the 
 
 - 
 — « — 
 
 " The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears, 
 Less pleasing far than virtue's very tears."* 
 
 Olid.) 
 " Man's lawful pride includes humility ; 
 ■ Stoops to the lowest ; is too great to find 
 Inferiors ; all immortal 1 brothers all ! 
 Proprietors eternal of thy love." 
 
 (Xight Thoughts— KightS.) 
 
 • Which compassion is most capable of exciting. 
 
85 
 
 truth and value of the doctrine preached 
 by St. Paul. The importance of charity, 
 in the extended description which St. 
 Paul gives of it, is; I believe, no where 
 more strongly marked than in the Lord's 
 Prayer, where it is made the condition 
 on which we pray for the remission of our 
 sins : "Forgive us our trespasses as we 
 forgive them that trespass against us :" 
 for the suppression of resentment, and 
 forgiveness of injuries, are but exten- 
 sions of charity. — Charity, as described 
 by St. Paul, is generosity, is heroism.* 
 — , __ 
 
 * Charity is love, and " God is love." 
 
 This may very well exist in our minds as a general feel- 
 ing, and he exerted towards individuals without the 
 necessity of particular discrimination, which is often made 
 incompliance with our own humours or inclinations. It 
 is the result of other feelings with which it is connected, 
 and which have their somiee in the great Being from whom 
 we derive them, and towards Avhom they must he ulti- 
 mately directed. With this regard they must continually 
 increase ; without it they can have no firm support. Our 
 affections are a duty ;' and a sense of that duty (to which 
 they must be subservient) makes them an inclination : 
 this will fix and elevate them in our minds, while the ob- 
 jects remain, and be an ample substitute for them when 
 they are lost—Nor are they lost, when we consider them 
 as-removed to the place where we ourselves must also go. 
 The loss of them here on earth is perhaps meant as a 
 counter-balance to, or ratherchastisement for — (can it in- 
 
86 
 
 XLII. 
 
 In social intercourse, complaisance 
 often stands in the place of confidence : 
 but the source and result of both is, or 
 ought to be, good will; and that con- 
 firmed by a sense of our religious duties. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 All sublunary enjoyments are unsa- 
 tisfactory to a thinking mind ;* their re- 
 petition satiates, their emptiness dissa- 
 tisfies ; they may please and amuse for 
 a time, but they do no more than divert 
 
 deed be any thing else ?) — the too great value we set upon 
 them while they remained with us. If we seek for conso- 
 lation when we have lost them, it must be in directing our 
 thoughts to the place whither they are gone. 
 
 Bristol Hotwells, March 6, 1821. 
 
 *In an imperfect state, imperfect enjoyments must 
 occur. These, however, may admit of restriction and cor- 
 rection, and, by a proper mixture, exaltation.' 
 
87 
 
 the mind from a higher and more per- 
 fect enjoyment, which it is capable of 
 and wishes for, at the same time, indeed, 
 that they divert it also from the cares 
 and troubles of this life, with which, 
 however, they must be mixed* They 
 may occupy the powers of the mind, but 
 they occupy it on unsatisfactory objects, 
 and the highest satisfaction they can 
 give, is in answering an end with which 
 they can be but remotely connected, and 
 which they can but imperfectly attain. 
 But they also not only divert the mind 
 from, but they are often at variance 
 with, its real and natural enjoyments; 
 for they prevent the enjoyment of that 
 calm, that peace which this world cannot 
 give, but which the mind continually 
 longs for, and which we always express 
 when we speak of its highest happiness.* 
 
 * "Joy has her tears, and transport has her death j 
 Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong, 
 Man's heart at once inspirits and serenes." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 7J 
 " Inspirits and serenes" as much as can be done to a 
 being who is so apt to pine after present happiness, and so 
 
In that state, were it perfect, the mind 
 would be left (under the Divine protec- 
 tion and grace) to its own natural 
 resources, which, if they were not ob- 
 structed by external and internal causes, 
 would probably (nay > I may say certainly) 
 produce its highest happiness. But the 
 enjoyments of the world divert the mind 
 from objects infinitely more worthy of 
 it, though, from its condition here, it 
 can at best but imperfectly attain them* 
 They prevent too, perhaps above all, 
 that openness and confidence which the 
 mind naturally longs for in its commu- 
 nication with others: they oblige it to 
 assume a part, to wear a kind of mask* 
 to force its own natural inclinations to 
 
 alive to the clanger of losing it. Hope,, however, is still 
 " a cordial :" it 
 
 " travels through, nor quits us when we die." 
 
 If so essential to human happiness (as much as can here 
 be enjoyecT}how can it be delusive ? That it is not, every 
 means of knowledge that we have assures us. 
 
 * This, however, has its good effects, in counteracting 
 a disposition to self-indulgence : and for the proper use 
 and direction of all this, it is necessary that we " commune 
 withourselveS;, and in our own chambers." 
 
89 
 
 accommodate itself tothe inclinations and 
 
 interests of others, with which, variously 
 
 as we are situated and constituted here, 
 
 its own can never perfectly agree, though 
 
 they may do so in many material points, 
 
 and indeed must, to produce any real 
 
 pleasure in the communication ; for the 
 
 more confidence there is in it, the more 
 
 is communication pleasing; and the 
 
 most pleasing, when that confidence has 
 
 the widest extent, and is founded on the 
 
 purest and most rational bases.* For this 
 
 "There needs but thinking right, and meaning well.'* 
 
 Pope. 
 
 * There are great pleasures in social intercourse, but 
 there may be still greater in solitary meditation ; but the 
 latter are only occasional, and require the intervention of 
 external objects ; of observation ; and this leads- to com- 
 munication with other observers ; and indeed the reflec- 
 tions of our own minds may often give occasion for com- 
 munication : bat it must also be remembered,, that even 
 when we are alone,, we are not wholly so - r that is,, if we 
 know how 'to give a proper direction to our thoughts in 
 "communing with ourselves. A dependence (an entire 
 one at least) for our happiness upon others is little to be 
 desired. It is, perhaps, the worst kind of slavery, except 
 indeed that which binds us to our vices. 
 
 " Nothing in nature, much less conscious being, 
 Was e'er created solely for itself." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 9.) 
 
90 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 The highest enjoyments this life can 
 afford us, do little more, perhaps, than 
 awaken desire. Such as they are, too, 
 they are necessarily short, and must 
 
 "As bees mixt nectar draw from fragrant flow'is, 
 So men from friendship, wisdom and delight ; 
 Twins tied by nature : if they part they die. 
 
 Thought, too, delivered, is the more possess'd : 
 Teaching, we learn ; and giving we retain 
 The births of intellect; when dumb forgot." 
 
 (Ibid, Night 2.) 
 " O lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, 
 Lost to the noble sallies of the soul 1 
 Who think it solitude to be alone. 
 Communion sweet, communion large and high 1 
 Our reason, guardian angel, and our God 1" 
 
 (Ibid, Night 3.) 
 In what consists the greatest advantage and pleasure of 
 friendship ? Is it not in communication ? And is not this 
 the more pleasant and advantageous, as it is more confi- 
 dential, and as its subject is more interesting and impor- 
 tant? And is not religion the most so ? Why do we com- 
 municate with our friends ? Is it not to compare our 
 opinions with theirs, and to correct or improve our own, 
 or to confirm ourselves in them, if we find they accord 
 with those of our friend&, and that both aie sanctioned by 
 reason F Is it not, in short, to gain additional knowledge 
 from this communication ? But from whence did they 
 acquire theirs, but from the same source to which we 
 ourselves may apply? Is not this source, then, our best 
 friend ? 
 
91 
 
 leave a void behind them, if they are 
 not succeeded (a transition natural 
 enough to the human heart) by sorrow. 
 If they give real and lasting pleasure on 
 recollection, it must have reference to 
 something else. That our highest en- 
 joyments here do little more than 
 awaken our desires (of still higher en- 
 joyments, by making us feel what our 
 minds are capable of) I think we may be 
 convinced, if we pay attention to what 
 passes within us, and if we consider what 
 those enjoyments are, that excite the 
 highest and the purest sensations. In- 
 deed the highest pleasures which our 
 minds are capable of, must probably be 
 mixed with some degree of sadness, from 
 a sense of the imperfections which ob- 
 struct the full enjoyment of them. — 
 There is a " peace which this world 
 cannot give," but the sense of which 
 may prepare us to expect it in another. 
 
92 
 
 XLV. 
 
 What strength of proof do those 
 minds require, which are dissatisfied 
 with that which supports the expecta- 
 tion of a future life? If their feelings 
 have no share in their examination of 
 the arguments in favor of it, their reason 
 may not find enough for its conviction, 
 but it must be associated* with feelings 
 (or rather passions) of a different sort 
 from those which should qualify it for a 
 fair examination, if it is disposed to re- 
 ject all those arguments and proofs. He 
 who is duly sensible of the insufficiency of 
 his reason to guard him from all error in 
 the conduct of this life, will hardly trust 
 exclusively to it (or at least to his mode 
 
 * I should rather say perverted ; for right reason cannot 
 associate with passions that are in opposition to it. 
 Reason, however, stands in need of assistance to guard it 
 against such perversion.- 
 
93 
 
 of consulting it) in forming his opinion 
 of the prospect of a future one. 
 
 " Born but to die" we certainly are : 
 but what is death? and what shall we 
 say of the mind which is made up (and 
 artificial* and forced indeed must such 
 a making up be) to consider death as 
 altogether an extinction of being ?f 
 
 Nothing is too vast for our hopes, 
 when they are properly directed : but 
 our hopes are far above all our powers 
 of expression or conception. Indeed 
 " what the eye of man hath not seen, nor 
 the ear heard, nor hath it entered into 
 his heart to conceive," can only be the 
 undefined object of sensation. 
 
 * Artificial, aa being in direct opposition to natural 
 feeling and reasonable conclusion, enforced by the best 
 and highest information that we have received or can re<- 
 ceive. 
 
 +" Were death denied, poor man would live in vain : 
 Were death denied, to live would not be life : 
 Were death denied, e'en fools would wish to die." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 3.) 
 
94 
 
 XLVL 
 
 A sentiment so natural, and therefore 
 so universal, as the expectation of a fu- 
 ture life, in union with, and confirmed 
 by the authority from which Christianity 
 is derived, is as strong as can with pro- 
 priety be impressed on the mind of man. 
 I say with propriety, for if we had a more 
 thorough conviction of it, from a know- 
 ledge that admitted of no doubt* or 
 dispute whatever, it would probably be 
 incompatible with those ends which it is 
 meant to answer, both in this life and 
 the next.^ 
 
 * u Her own immense appointments to compute, 
 Or comprehend her high prerogatives, 
 In this her dark minority, how toils, 
 How vainly pants, the human soul divine ! 
 Too great the bounty seems for earthly joy : 
 What heart but trembles at so strange a bliss !" 
 
 (Night Ihoughts, Night 6.) 
 f It would at least be inconsistent with a state of pro- 
 bation : 
 
 "HeavVs promise dormant lies in human hope : 
 Who wishes life immortal, proves it too. 
 
 (Ibid, Night 7- 
 
95 
 
 XLVI1. 
 
 The sense of a want seems to imply a 
 capacity of possession ; at least in many 
 cases, particularly in the want which the 
 human mind feels (if it feels and reflects 
 at all) of a greater degree of happiness 
 than any it can enjoy in this life. It is 
 only when the mind attends to its own 
 operations, (i. e. to what passes within 
 it) that it is sensible of the desire of 
 happiness which is natural to it, and of 
 the kind of happiness which it longs for, 
 and which alone can satisfy it.* 
 
 Oh with what thoughts 
 
 Abhorr'd annihilation blasts the soul, 
 
 And wide extends the bounds of human woe." 
 
 (Ibid.) 
 * " 'Tis immortality, 'tis that alone, 
 Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness, 
 The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill." 
 
 (Ibid, Night 6.) 
 " Bliss has no being, virtue has no strength, 
 But from the prospect of immortal life." 
 
 (Ibid, Night 8.) 
 " Why then their loss deplore who are not lost ?" 
 
 {Ibid, Night J.) 
 
96 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 We live upon hope; but to make that 
 of any real avail, it must be extended 
 beyond the term of this life, which is far 
 too short and too uncertain (besides its 
 other deficiencies) to satisfy the wants of 
 our minds ; and the immortality of a 
 name is a poor substitute for the real 
 immortality which we are taught and 
 encouraged (both from the highest au- 
 thority) to hope for. 
 
 l< 'Tis moral grandeur makes the mighty man j 
 How little they, who think aught great below I" 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 6J 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The best consolation for the troubles 
 of this life, is what they themselves af- 
 ford, in awakening the hope of another. 
 
97 
 
 *Vhat, indeed, is this world, that we take 
 o much pleasure in it ? or rather what 
 vould it be, if it was not the passage to 
 mother?* But how transitory, how de- 
 ultory, are the suggestions of our most 
 erious thoughts — true as they are ; 
 3r if serious thoughts do not lead to 
 ruth, by what road shall we hope to 
 i r rive at it ? 
 
 However, even the levity of mankind 
 nay have its use, if not too far indulged ; 
 md the idea of the French poet, (pro- 
 perly understood, modified and ex- 
 ilained) may be verified, that " le 
 Die! a fait les hommes legers et vains, 
 >our les rend re moins miserables !"f 
 
 * If life is not a state of probation, what is it ? 
 " All is delusion ; nature is wrapt up, 
 In ten-fold night, from Reason's keenest eye ; 
 There's no consistence, meaning, plan, or end, 
 In all beneath the sun, in all above, 
 (As far as man can penetrate) or heaven 
 Is an immense, inestimable prize ; 
 Or all is nothing, or that prize is all." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 7.) 
 
 *T Serious thoughts may be considered as the tension of 
 i« mind : levity (innocent levity) the relaxation of it. 
 
 Le Ciel peut avoir fait les hommes " legers et vains ;*' 
 rais il les a fait aussi pour etre quelque chose de mieux 
 
 H 
 
Equally wonderful are human know- 
 ledge and human ignorance ; both, at the 
 same time, equally manifesting the ends 
 for which they were dispensed, and the 
 wisdom, power, and goodness of the Al- 
 mighty Being who dispensed them. In 
 our weakness is God magnified : in our 
 weakness too (our dependence upon 
 him) we are strong. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Those who argue against the doctrines 
 of Christianity, do not do it so much 
 
 que cela. Voltaire's resource is only for those who are 
 not capable of finding a better. ^ 
 
 There is more wit than truth in this poetical sally : are 
 those who are not " legers et vains" (if the exceptions 
 are allowed), or who are Jess so than others, necessarily 
 made more miserable by it ? or if all were so, would it 
 have the same consequence ? 
 
99 
 
 from superior strength of mind, as from 
 want of feeling.* Strong conviction, 
 indeed, is generally produced by a mix- 
 ture of reason and feeling.f 
 
 LII. 
 
 Perhaps the greatest beauty we can 
 see, hear, or consider (as in painting, 
 music, poetry, or in sensible objects, 
 natural scenery, &c.) only serves to 
 raise conceptions in the mind of some- 
 thing still higher. 
 
 * The Esprits-forts (free-thinkers) would regard this 
 " feeling" as arising from weakness ; but what is their 
 force d ? esprit ? It is as much demonstrated in emanci- 
 pating itself from the controul of reason (in the perver- 
 sion of it) as of feeling. But, 
 
 " Our infidels are Satan's hypocrites, 
 Pretend the worst, and, at the bottom, fail : 
 When visited by thought (thought will intrude) 
 Like him they serve, they tremble and believe. " 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night f.) 
 Be this however said with some allowance for human 
 error. 
 
 f " Reason is man's peculiar ; s^nse, the brute's." 
 
 (Bid.) 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 LIU. 
 
 The best proof of a well-disposed 
 nind is to be capable of still further 
 mprovement and elevation. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Mav thinks of his end, which we 
 cannot suppose that beasts ever do.* 
 What a difference does this make be- 
 tween them ! Man thinks of death (if 
 he thinks rightly) as of the end for 
 which he lives ; and of his life, as the 
 
 * Beasts then have their compensation in the want of 
 mind, or in the quality of what is given them as a substi- 
 tute for it. The compensation of. man (for surely he has 
 his share of the general justice !) must be in what is adapt- 
 ed to his possession of mind, and all that it comprehends 
 and gives rise to. 
 
 " Life animal is nurtur'd by the sun, 
 Thrives on his bounties, triumphs in his beams, 
 Life rational subsists on higher food, 
 Triumphant in his beams, who made the day. 
 
 mid.) 
 
101 
 
 passage, and as the means subordinate? 
 
 to^and designed for that end. Must 
 
 not then the end be of more importance 
 
 than the means ? but of what importance 
 
 would it be if it were only the end of 
 
 life, and followed by nothing else ? 
 
 * ; Life has no value, as an end, but means." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 3.) 
 
 LV. 
 
 Man's wishes betray his wants : and 
 how high will his wishes soar, when they 
 are not debased by his vices ! 
 
 LYI. 
 
 How srongly does Prayer express the 
 natural wishes of the human heart ! and 
 how necessary is it, to a feeling one, td 
 fill the void that all the enjoyments of thif 
 world leave behind them, and to heal th< 
 
102 
 
 wounds, or at least to soften the pains, 
 that its troubles create ! Prayer is the 
 ultimate appeal for all we desire, to the 
 only Power that can ensure our attain- 
 ment of it.* 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Does not the increasing; activity of 
 our minds^f as we advance in age (or at 
 least the increase of matter to exercise 
 it) make us more sensible of the growing 
 
 * " Religion ! Providence ! an after state ; 
 Here is firm footing, here is solid rock ; 
 This can support us ; all is sea besides ;. 
 Sinks under us, bestorms, and then devours. 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night A.) 
 " In every storm, that either frowns, or falls, 
 What an asylum has the soul in prayer!" 
 
 {Ibid, Night 9.) 
 One great cfifficulty in bringing our feelings to the 
 standard of religious precept, seems to be the necessity 
 required of sacrificing our feelings as men to that object, 
 or at least of devoting them to it. But the nature and 
 condition of those feelings require this, as their objects 
 on earth are all precarious, and therefore they must have 
 a certain and unfailing support, which can only be found 
 in religion, This truth is felt, when losses and misfortunei 
 befal us. 
 f That is of reflective minds. 
 
103 
 
 weakness and infirmities of our bodies ? 
 but it makes us look forward to another 
 state, when this variance shall cease. 
 
 LVIIf. 
 
 In youth, time slips away without our 
 observing it : but when we begin to 
 observe and reflect upon it, we then 
 perceive how fleeting it is, and how 
 short are its periods.* 
 
 LIX. 
 
 There are few days in which some- 
 thing does not occur to make us feel 
 that life is a state of trial. 
 
 * " All mankind mistake their time of day, 
 Even age itself : fresh hopes are hourly sown 
 In furrow'd brows. So gentle life's descent, 
 We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain. 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 2.) 
 
104 
 
 LX. 
 
 How much and how evidently has 
 virtue the pre-eminence over every 
 other quality or possession ! How ne- 
 cessary is it to the welfare of societies 
 and individuals ! and how closely is it 
 connected with, and how strongly con- 
 firmed by, religion !* 
 
 * " Virtue alone entenders us for life : 
 I wrong her much — entenders us for ever." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 2.) 
 This surely is as fine a thought as can well be conceived : 
 and, as I hope and believe, as true a oue. 
 
 " Peace, O Virtue, peace is all thy own." 
 
 {Pope's Essay on Man.) 
 " Virtue's foundations with the world were laid ; 
 Heaven niix'd her with our make, and twisted close 
 Her sacred interests with the strings of life. " 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 8.) 
 " Virtue, which Christian motives best inspire; 
 And bliss, which Christian schemes alone insure!" 
 
 (Ibid, Night 3.) 
 " Each virtue brings in hand a golden dower 
 Far richer in reversion ; hope exults, 
 And, tho' much bitter in our cup is thrown, 
 Predominates, and gives the taste of heaven. 
 Oh ! wherefore is the Deity so kind ? 
 Astonishing beyond astonishment 1 
 Heaven our reward— for heaven enjoyed below." 
 
 (Ibid Night 9.} 
 
105 
 
 LXI. 
 
 All the events of life are uncertain : 
 on what then do they depend ? Not on 
 chance, for there is no such thing : we 
 must refer them, then, to the power and 
 will of that Almighty Being, to whom 
 common sense (the surest guide of our 
 reasoning faculty) instigates our contin- 
 ual appeal. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 In the early part of life we seem to 
 act more from impulse than reflection 
 and to find our chief enjoyment ii 
 the exercise of the passions ; but as ag< 
 
 Virtue — uti ver-and may there not be truth (metaphc 
 rical truth) even in an anagram ? 
 
 Metaphors are illustrative of the truths in which the 
 are founded. 
 
106 
 
 advances, the habit of thought increases, 
 and with it the wish for that peace of 
 mind which the exercise of thought re- 
 quires ; and the more this is felt, the 
 more we attend to every thing that is 
 necessary (in whatever concerns the 
 state or regulation of our minds) for the 
 security of that peace. The possession 
 of it is the greatest blessing that can be 
 enjoyed in this world, and the nearest 
 approach to what we hope for in the 
 next.* 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 How apt are the enjoyments of this 
 world to mix pain with pleasure, by re- 
 
 * " Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat 
 Defects of judgment ; and the will subdue ; 
 Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ; 
 And put good works on board $ and wait the wind 
 That shortly blows us into worlds unknown : 
 If unconsidered too, a dreadful scene." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 5.) t 
 Those who make the proper use of their reason, will 
 know to what extent this is to be understood and prac- 
 tised. 
 
107 
 
 filling our sense of them ! a refinement 
 which but too often produces a wish to 
 add to them more than is reasonable. 
 We certainly ought to repress such 
 wishes, but we may not always be able 
 to do it sufficiently to make us thoroughly 
 content with what we have.* 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 All practice must fall short of pre- 
 cept : for we have in our minds ideas 
 (as well as the power of expressing them) 
 
 * The best remedy for this is, to fix our thoughts upon 
 what is infinitely above any thing we can possess or 
 enjoy here, and to consider all the rest as subordinate to 
 that. Disappointed expectations will, or ought to, lead 
 to this. 
 
 " On knowing what our mortal state admits, 
 Life's modest joys we ruin, while we raise ; 
 And all our extasies are wounds to peace : 
 Peace, the full portion of mankind below. 
 
 (Mght Thoughts, Night 5.) 
 *' So man is made, nought ministers delight, 
 But what his glowing passions can engage ; 
 And glowing passions, bent on aught below, 
 Must, soon or late, with anguish turn the scale ; 
 And anguish, after rapture, how severe F 
 
 (Ibid, Night 3.) 
 
 m 
 
108 
 
 of moral excellence, higher than we 
 can reach in practice. Thus it is one 
 thing to preach,* and another to prac- 
 tise. It is not the less our duty, however, 
 to bring our practice as near to those 
 precepts and those ideas as we can. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Self-knowledge is perhaps the most 
 difficult of all attainments : those " secret 
 faults" which the psalmist prayed to be 
 "cleansed from/' may (in their sources 
 at least) be beyond the reach of our 
 powers of discovery. Our knowledge, 
 both of ourselves and others, must at 
 the best be very imperfect: but our 
 knowledge of others may sometimes, and 
 in some respect, be greaterf than that of 
 
 * That is, when we preach with a sincere desire to 
 practise. 
 
 f As not being so liable to self-deception. However, 
 there may be other sources of deception in the judgmen; 
 we form of others. We cannot, at any rate, penetrau 
 
109 
 
 ourselves ; so mixed is the condition of 
 humanity. 
 
 " E cselo descendi t, yvw0t Qtavrov." 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Our knowledge of ourselves must at 
 the best be very imperfect ; we can only 
 judge of ourselves from the trials we 
 have been exposed to, and the inclina- 
 tions we have either indulged, or have 
 only felt without giving way to them. 
 
 What effects new temptations, or any 
 change of circumstances, might pro- 
 duce in us, we^can have little or no idea 
 of; and as to those virtues or vices which 
 
 so far into their bosoms as into our own. We may con- 
 clude, that the means which are given us of judging in 
 both cases (of others and ourselves) are consonant to the 
 ends which are to be answered by them : in the former, 
 as examples to be followed or to be avoided ; in the latter 
 as enabling us to correct ourselves. If we exceed, or 
 deviate from, these purposes, we shall probably be sooner 
 or later admonished by the consequences of our error.— 
 
 " Man, know thyself : all wisdom centres there." 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 4.) 
 
110 
 
 we know ourselves to be more or less ad- 
 dicted to, we are full as much at a loss in 
 attempting totracethem to their primary 
 sources. If we attribute them to early 
 impressions, or to the accidental (as we 
 may call them) circumstances in which 
 we have been placed, it is because our 
 recollections will carry us no further 
 back, nor our reflections enable us to 
 go deeper in investigation ; if to innate 
 propensities, it is probably for want of 
 a better solution of the question. Per- 
 haps physical causes may present a 
 greater appearance of probability; but 
 we caunot well ascertain how far any of 
 those may be peculiar to each of us, as 
 part of our nature, or common to us 
 with the rest of mankind, and brought 
 into action by external causes.* One 
 thing, however, appears to be certain, 
 amidst all this uncertainty : that we 
 have a consciousness which indicates our 
 
 * Strengthened by our want of resistunce to them. 
 
Ill 
 
 power of choice in our actions, by re- 
 proaching us when we have made a bad 
 one. It may be stifled, or not attended 
 to, but it does not the less exist in us, 
 though we even have it in our power to 
 pervert its judgments and dictates. It 
 has, besides, the faculty of impressing us 
 with a general sense of the defects of our 
 nature,* in making us sensible how little 
 we can be secure, under certain circum- 
 stances, against the commission of the 
 worst actions that we hear of in others ; 
 and this, by so greatly widening the 
 sphere of the operations of conscience, 
 seems to afford additional means, under 
 the protection of the Divine Providence, 
 of providing for our security. 
 
 The imperfection then of self-know- 
 ledge must often expose us to the danger 
 of self-delusion, the only remedy for 
 
 * In this world, what individuals are reproached with 
 as faults, may often be only infirmities ; there may there- 
 fore be more reason to hope, that they will meet with 
 mercy in the next. But this must not :r.ake us remiss • 
 we must " watch" as well as " pray." 
 
112 
 
 which is, self- distrust ; this will evince 
 the necessity of self-denial ; and o ur 
 general security (with the Divine assis- 
 tance) must be in self-command. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 " Deteriora sequi" does not exclude 
 u meliora videre :" on the contrary, it 
 is the perception of the one that makes 
 us sensible of the fault we commit in 
 following the other. Our sense of the 
 meliora is to be estimated by the judg- 
 ment of our reason, which, with an 
 appeal to the common sense of mankind, 
 will inform us whether those are in an 
 error who form ideas different from 
 ours. If we ourselves err, a due refe- 
 rence to the same authorities will make 
 us sensible of our error, and our con 
 tinuance in it will then be the result of 
 our passions, habits, or prejudices, and 
 in contradiction to our better judgment. 
 
113 
 
 Will not this apply, more or less, to all 
 errors, in religion, morals, or polities ? 
 The preceding reflection was (as my 
 reader, if I should chance to have one, 
 •will probably see) suggested by the 
 difficulty that we sometimes hear spo- 
 ken of, of judging between different 
 opinions, and of finding out Truth amid 
 the chaos of" tot homines, tot sententiae," 
 which may be equally difficult to do, 
 whether she is lost in a crowd, or sunk 
 in the bottom of a " well." Somewhere, 
 however, she must be, being eternal and 
 immutable ; and deep as the well may be, 
 she may be " dragged out by the locks" 
 (as Hotspur would do with "honour") 
 and not in a " drowned" state neither, 
 whatever may be the case with honour, 
 which we see may be either in the 
 "moon," or in the "bottom of the sea ;" 
 but wherever the caprice of mankind 
 may place her, it is only where Truth 
 is, that honor will really be found. 
 
114 
 
 Perhaps the difficulty of finding Truth 
 may sometimes result from that of set- 
 tling the comparative merits of the two 
 opposite sides of a question in dispute ; 
 both may be so faulty, that to find where 
 the truth lies, it will be necessary to go 
 farther back, and deeper than a mere 
 comparative examination of them will 
 reach. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 There seems to be something in the 
 human character* which is out of the 
 reach of human estimation : we may 
 judge of particular qualities, and of a 
 character in general ; but that j udgment 
 must be very imperfecta when we at- 
 tempt to trace each quality to its source, 
 
 * " How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, 
 How complicate, how wonderful, is man ! 
 
 • •••*« 
 
 How counterpois'd his origin from dust 
 How counterpois'd to dust his sao^return !" 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 1.) 
 f In proportion at least to the want of simplicity in 
 character \ for when people's intentions are good, little 
 is wanted to make them known to each other. 
 
115 
 
 or to see how it is connected with, or in- 
 fluences, and is influenced by others ; 
 and how it contributes to form a genera] 
 whole. The best way of estimating this 
 difficulty is, 1 believe, by examining 
 ourselves. Every thing here on earth 
 is mixed and balanced ; and so mixed, 
 that to analyse it thoroughly is out of 
 our power: our knowledge is of that re- 
 lative kind, that answers the purposes 
 for which we exist ; and the sense of our 
 ignorance makes us look to purposes of 
 a higher kind, for which we are des- 
 tined : for to be sensible of our igno- 
 rance is, in a manner, to soar above it. 
 But this we cannot do without assistance, 
 and that assistance we have received. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Two of the greatest difficulties in life, 
 
 I believe are, to be perfectly just in our 
 
 opinion of men and things ; and, to dis- 
 
 12 
 
116 
 
 tinguish those things which are of real 
 consequence, and to be solicitous only 
 about them. The nearer we approach 
 to these points, the more we shall pro- 
 bably be satisfied with ourselves,* But 
 on what does this depend ? v f 
 
 LXX. 
 
 The choice of our occupations is cer- 
 tainly of importance, but the manner in 
 which we occupy ourselves is perhaps of 
 still more; for by this, their effect on the 
 mind is shown, and their ultimate result 
 determined. To this all must be subor- 
 dinate, as being the medium through 
 which the mind is seen. To fortify, ex- 
 pand, and elevate the powers of thr 
 
 * " The mind that would be happy, must be great ; 
 Great in its wishes, great in it's surveys." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 9.) 
 f "Teach my best reason, reason ; my best will 
 Teach rectitude ; and fix my firm resolve 
 Wisdom to wed, and pay her long arrear." 
 
 {Ibid, Night J 
 
11? 
 
 mind, should be the great business of 
 human life ; to teach the mind to know 
 itself, and to use that knowledge for its 
 real improvement ; to give it at once 
 a consciousness of its own strength and 
 of its dependence ; to raise it above the 
 allurements of sense, to make it feel its 
 destination, and look up with humble 
 awe, but with inspiring hope, to the 
 great Being ou whom that destination 
 depends ; to make it feel that the source 
 of happiness is in itself,* and not in the 
 objects that surround it.f 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 M Nunc vino tentas, nunc somno pel- 
 lere curatn." Attempts to fly away from 
 
 * In itself, for God is within us: weare his "Temples g 
 lit them not. then be "defiled" 
 
 ^ — . — . — « q 0) fi x some we ighty truth 
 
 Chain down some passion ; do some generous good ; 
 Teach ignorance to see, or grief to smile ; 
 Correct thy friend ; befriend thy greatest foe $ 
 Or, with warm heart, and confidence divine, 
 Spring up, and lay strong hold on him who made thee." 
 (Night Thoughts, NightS.) 
 
118 
 
 care, are attempts to fly a^ay from 
 ourselves/'* 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 There is an attention to ourselves 
 which is always necessary, or at least use- 
 ful, though it may not always be plea- 
 sant ; it makes amends, however, by its 
 effects :f and the stores of knowledge 
 and powers of expression that we possess 
 or acquire will, we may trust, in an im- 
 proved state, be a source of far higher 
 enjoyment to us hereafter, when all that 
 obstructs them is done away ; of this we 
 know and feel enough in our present 
 state to be assured. J But truths, as to 
 
 * " Life's cares are comforts ; Heaven design'd them so ; 
 Who seeks content must make them, or be wretched." 
 
 (Night Thoughts.) 
 
 f That is when it is not carried too far. If it is, 
 " In culpa est animus, qui se non effugit unquam." 
 
 t Assured, both by the experience of our own feelings, 
 and the information we have received. 
 
119 
 
 
 their effects upon our minds, are nothin 
 to us unless we feel them ; intbrced as 
 they may be by all the dictates of reason. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 We learn through life. Those who 
 reflect are sensible how much they learn, 
 and how much deeper lies that know- 
 ledge of which here we can have but an 
 imperfect attainment.^ And is that 
 power of attainment, and that sense of 
 its imperfection, and of what lies beyond 
 it, and that capacity for, and desire of, 
 knowledge and happiness (the hoped- 
 for results of these) given us only to be 
 extinguished in death ? No; we have an 
 instinctive persuasion that it will be con- 
 
 * That is, they have no influence on us. " 
 
 f " Were man to live coeval with the sun, 
 The patriarch-pupil would be learning still ; 
 Yet, dving, leave his lesson half unlearnt." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 7 J 
 
120 
 
 tinued and improved ; and that persua- 
 sion is confirmed, in terms that fully 
 accord with its dictates, and express 
 them as perfectly as language can, from 
 an authority which both our reason and 
 our feelings tell us, is the highest that 
 we can receive an information from. 
 
 Our warmest affections are often 
 mixed with a degree of sensuality, that 
 decreases and is lost as we advance in 
 age, without our losing any part of the 
 affections themselves, the disposition to 
 which, on the contrary, grows stronger 
 as it grows purer. And is this, too, to be 
 lost in death ? No ; it is the gradual 
 expansion of a faculty which waits its 
 further progress in a future state, 
 towards a perfection of which this is only 
 the beginning.* 
 
 * Were man to perish when most fit to live, 
 Ohow mispent were all those stratagems, 
 By skill divine inwoven in our frame! 
 Where are heaven's holiness and mercy fled ? 
 Laughs heaven, at once, at virtue, and at man ? 
 If not, why that discourag'd, this destroy'd ?" 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 7." 
 
121 
 
 What is imagination ?* Is it given u* 
 merely to build castles in the air with ? 
 No. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 The best enjoyments this world can 
 afford, can, I think, amount to little 
 more than dissipation (I do not mean in 
 the worst or lightest sense of that word) 
 unless they are connected with the 
 prospects of another. All our attention 
 to our duties in this, all our serious 
 thoughts, must surely, directly or in- 
 directly, have that reference and con- 
 
 Without a future state this world would be, as the 
 Night Thoughts emphatically express it, "but the 
 shambles of Omnipotence." (Ibid.) 
 
 "If human souls, why not angelic too, 
 Extinguished ? and a solitary God, 
 O'er ghastly ruin, frowning from his throne ? 
 
 U6idJ 
 
 * Imagination, when properly directed, is the sugges- 
 tion of something of which we cannot have a clear per- 
 ception, but which is corroborated by the deductions of 
 our reason. 
 
122 
 
 nection.* What else can give them 
 Teal value or importance ? and what 
 can alleviate the troubles of life, 
 what can console for the misfortunes of 
 it, but resignation to the will, and trust 
 in the mercies, of that Being, who is the 
 Master and Disposer of both worlds, in 
 whose hands are the issues of life and 
 death ?f 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " And yet, deluded man, 
 
 A scene of crude disjointed visions past 
 And broken slumbers, rises still resolved, 
 'With new-flushed hopes, to run the giddy round." 
 
 (Thomson's Seasons.) 
 
 A giddy round ought certainly not to 
 be run, nor hopes indulged which excite 
 
 * " Is faith a refuge for our happiness ? 
 Most sure : and is it not for reason too ? 
 Nothing this world unriddles but the next." 
 
 {Nighi Thoughts, Night 7.) 
 
 •f " With piety begiiis all good on earth : 
 *Tis the first-born of rationality." 
 
 {Ibid, Night 8.) 
 
123 
 
 to it ; but €C new- flushed hopes," di- 
 rected to reasonable objects, may often 
 be necessary to minds which feel some 
 degree of sadness in the disappointment 
 of perhaps their most unblameable ex- 
 pectations. We cannot go through life 
 with insensibility, though the degrees of 
 sensibility may be as various as the 
 causes which excite it, and the manner 
 in which it shews itself. We live between 
 hopes and fears ; and the events which 
 befal us, of what kind soever they are, 
 are often worse than the promises of the 
 one, and better than the suggestions of 
 the other. The attempt of the Stoics and 
 Epicureans to exempt themselves from 
 tbese viscissitudes, the one by shutting 
 their minds against all affections, the 
 other by opening them* only to plea- 
 surable ones, were equally absurd and 
 
 • And perhaps the mouth to potations of the " rich 
 ichor, of the generous blood of Bacchus," &c. : but take 
 caie, Epicurean, " ne te potum largius (let it be rather 
 urctius) aequo, rideat et pulset, &c— This would be 
 paying dear for the " mero c&luisse." 
 
124 
 
 impracticable. There are, indeed, other 
 resources; fortitude, which is a kind 
 and degree of Stoicism, is a very material 
 one ; but there is one above all, which 
 philosophy could not teach, and that is,, 
 religion * 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 c< Heaviness may endure for a nighty 
 but joy cometh in the morning,'' seems 
 to be exemplified in nothing more than 
 in the changes which our minds are sub- 
 ject to, often from no apparent cause 
 but their own versatility, which alter- 
 nately elevates or depresses them,* 
 
 tc Let us, henceforth, in sAveetest union join 
 The two supports of human happiness, 
 Which some, erroneous, think can never meet ; 
 True taste of life, and constant thought of death : 
 The thought of death, sole victor of its dread." 
 
 (Night Ihoughts, Night 8.) 
 * When will these vicissitudes have an end ? But why 
 should they end?— Yes, if well, and they will— Deo vo- 
 lente et adjuvante, they will. In the mean time, Reader, 
 " Tu, quamcunque Deus tibi fortunaverit horaiu, 
 Grata sume manu." 
 
125 
 
 almost in the extremes. The goodness 
 of Providence is perhaps manifested in 
 nothing more than in enabling us, not- 
 withstanding this versatility, to follow 
 one steady line of conduct, at least in 
 the most important points ; for which 
 each of us has to offer his tribute of 
 praise and thankfulness; feeling, how- 
 ever, and acknowledging our indispen- 
 sable want of other supports than the 
 resources of our own minds. 
 
 LXXVil. 
 
 A reliance upon mere fortitude to 
 bear the ills of life, I think, supposes 
 but little sensibility, with which indeed 
 neither a sturdy endurance, nor a diffu- 
 sive flow of animal spirits, seem very 
 compatible, opposite as are the qualities 
 which are sometimes to be met with in 
 the same character. A greater degree 
 of sensibility (which seems to be a mix- 
 
126 
 
 ture of thought and feeling) requires 
 other supports and resources, of which 
 the best is surely religion.* 
 
 The promise of a state in which " the 
 tears are to be wiped away from all 
 eyes," is not addressed to (or at least can 
 have no effect upon) those who have no 
 feeling or whose feelings are perverted. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Respect yourself. The higher the 
 motive for this is, the more the obser- 
 vance and effect of it will be ensured : 
 there can be no higher motive than reli- 
 gion : mere worldly policy is little more 
 
 To grieve, as conscious grief may rise to joy ; 
 So joy, as conscious joy to grief may fall. 
 
 * * * • • * 
 
 Illfirmly to support, good fully taste, 
 
 Is the whole science of felicity. 
 
 «*•*#•■ 
 
 Some joys endear eternity ; some give 
 Abhorr'd annihilation dreadful charms." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 8.) 
 
127 
 
 than an exertion of cunning,* which 
 may induce us to seek the respect of 
 others, and may succeed in obtaining it, 
 at least to a certain degree ; for our re- 
 sponsibility to society is enforced by the 
 consequences that attend the observance 
 or the violation of it, and the balance is 
 maintained in favor of virtue; and 
 worthy characters are not suffered to be 
 the dupes or victims of vice and hypo- 
 crisy : but as our great responsibility is 
 to our Creator, it is reasonable to expect 
 that the consequences of the violation 
 of that should be more certain and 
 important.*)* In respecting ourselves, 
 it is that responsibility that we respect, 
 and no consideration can place us in a 
 
 * Cunning is perhaps too harsh a terra : but the heart 
 cannot be much interested, at least in the manner it 
 ought to be, when worldly interest or reputation is the 
 main object. Our social feelings, however, may be often 
 more connected with those of religion, and may approach 
 nearer to a congeniality with them, than we are ourselves 
 aware of : if they do, they will soon find their proper 
 refuge. 
 
 t In the seductions of the world, are we in more danger 
 from our minds or from our bodies ? 
 
128 
 
 higher light in regard to our duty, or in 
 a lower in regard to our dependence ; for 
 it makes us sensible how little power our 
 reason has over our passions, unless it 
 is enforced by the precepts and encou- 
 ragements of religion ; and that may well 
 he sufficient for us ; the great reward, 
 the great punishment,, cannot be sup- 
 posed to take place in this world : if they 
 did, they would probably be final. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 If the world gives us credit for a 
 general good conduct,* we should take 
 
 c Not absolutely vain is human praise, 
 When human is supportedjby Divine. 
 
 ****** 
 
 What is it, but the love of praise, inspires, 
 Matures, refines, embellishes, exalts 
 Earth's happiness ? * * * 
 
 ****** 
 
 Praise is the salt that seasons right to man, 
 And whets his appetile for moral good. 
 Thirst of applause is virtue's second guard ; 
 Reason her first," &c. 
 
 (XigJd Thoughts, Night".) 
 
129 
 
 take care not to be so well satisfied with 
 that, as to make us careless of endea- 
 vouring to add to that credit (which the 
 world,* at least the better part of it, 
 knows how to apportion), and what is of 
 far more importance, to procure our 
 acquittal at a much higher tribunal. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 In the parable of the Pharisee and 
 the Publican, the pride, &c. of the one 
 is contrasted with the humility of the 
 other, thereby to enforce the latter sen- 
 timent, and to reprobate the former. 
 As to myself, I own that I am sometimes 
 inclined to say with (though I hope not 
 like) the Pharisee, "Lord, I thank thee 
 that I am no /' &c. ; and at others with 
 the Publican, " Lord, be merciful to me 
 
 * The world may err in its judgments : hut but charge 
 that we may make against the justice of 'lLc-ii:, v.'il! gene- 
 ral] v retort upon ourselves. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 a sinner :" or I should rather say, that 
 I feel both at the same time. Thus 
 they appear to be contrasted, in order 
 to encourage the one* and discourage 
 the other, by a marked preference being 
 given in favour of the humbler feeling ; 
 for in other respects, the pride, &c. of 
 the Pharisee was probably equal in the 
 balance to the sins of the Publican. The 
 union of opposite feelings above-men- 
 tioned is expressed by Shakspeare, in 
 '•' our virtues would be proud if they 
 were not whipped by our vices ; and 
 our vices (i. e. our sense of them) would 
 despair, if they (we) were not cherished 
 by our virtues." 
 
 LXXXI, 
 
 Orlando, in " As you like it," answers 
 Jacques's proposal to him to rail against 
 
 * Existing, as they may, in the mind at the same time. 
 
131 
 
 the rest of mankind, by saying that he 
 would only "rail against himself, in 
 whom he knew most faults.' ' And this 
 must probably be the case of every man, 
 and for this reason, that he must know 
 himself (if he reflects at all) better than 
 he can know any one else. So just is 
 Shakspeare to nature and to truth ! 
 
 " I will rail only on myself, in whom 
 I know most faults*' — is the answer of 
 a sincere and reasonable man, to a self- 
 conceited,* or at least a whimsical, 
 misanthropist. Whim indeed may (and 
 probably does) imply self-conceit ; but 
 must we notshewsome indulgence to hu- 
 man eccentricities, because they require 
 it, or rather because we have no right to 
 be severe upon them ? Orlando's an- 
 swer to Jacques is, I believe, an answer 
 to this too. Discrimination, however, 
 must be made between different cha- 
 
 * Self-confidence (or at leust a want of self-knowledge) 
 seems to be the essence of such a character as that of 
 " Jacques." 
 
 K2 
 
racters, but with caution and diffidence: 
 What says St. Paul ? " Let your mode- 
 ration be known to all men/'— not the 
 moderation of policy, but of sincerity 
 and self-examination. 
 
 How much of the latter do we want ! 
 But in saying" we," do I not fall myself 
 under the lash of Orlando's reproof? 
 Do 1 not seek to lessen my own faults, 
 by generalising them ? How shall we 
 escape this " treachery" of the heart ? 
 What?" we" again? 
 
 LXXXIL 
 
 What link is there (can there possi- 
 bly be) wanting in the chain that con- 
 nects the human mind with religion, and 
 with its source?* 
 
 * For it is equally binding on our reason and our feel- 
 ings : both acknowledge its force ; both want its support : 
 all else is " a rope of sand." 
 
J 33 
 
 Lxxxm. 
 
 The best way, perhaps, to insure our 
 candid judgment of men, is hot id put 
 too much confidence in then! : this will 
 prevent our minds from being soured 
 (and our judgments consequently 
 biassed) by disappointments. 
 
 LXX^IV. 
 
 How often have we to appeal from 
 our humours to our better judgments! 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 There are some people whom, if it 
 were not for Christian charity, one would 
 almost wish to see reduced to the <fc as, 
 laquei pretium^but while there is life, 
 there is hope. 
 
134 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 How useful are second thoughts ! but 
 to make them thoroughly so, they should 
 be well reflected upon. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Our opinions and feelings regarding 
 other people, often differ according as 
 their good or bad qualities are upper- 
 most in our minds ; and so perhaps it is 
 regarding ourselves. 
 
 LXXXIIVI. 
 
 If I know not myself, how can 1 pre- 
 tend to judge of others ? The best 
 resource and remedy for the ignorance 
 

 135 
 
 of ourselves, and for the pain and the 
 still more serious evils that may flow 
 from it, is to impress upon our minds, 
 and to act under, the conviction that 
 God knows us ; and that as he will judge, 
 he will also have mercy upon us, if we 
 do not presume too much on the ex- 
 pectation of it. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 " Sins, negligences, and ignorances,' 5 
 How much does that comprehend ! 
 
 XC. 
 Whose faith is perfect ?* 
 
 • * The imperfection of our nature will, more or less, 
 affect our religious belief, as ^vell as our moral dispositions ; 
 and though the sense of that imperfection may well impel 
 us to seek for help, in the source where the fair use of our 
 reason, in examining the evidence for the Christian doc- 
 trines, will more and more induce us to assent to the truth 
 
136 
 
 xcr. 
 
 Solicitude is both the parent and 
 the child of thought. 
 
 XCll. 
 
 Motives are, or depend upon, pre- 
 dispositions ; our consciousness of these 
 may often be, at the best, but imperfect. 
 What else can we understand by " Who 
 can tell how oft he offendeth f O 
 cleanse thou me from my secret faults !" 
 
 of them ; yet, the want of a more perfect intelligence, and 
 probably too the counteraction of our passions, will make 
 the life of the most pious Christian one continued effort 
 (as indeed we are told it is " a state of warfare* V and will 
 give him frequent occasion to say, "Lord, I believe, help 
 thou mine unbelief." We may trust, ho wever, that neither 
 th« efforts which he makes, nor the prayer which he utters, 
 will fee in vain. 
 
137 
 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 The virtues are so nearly allied, that 
 no one of them perhaps can be possessed 
 in any degree of perfection, without all 
 the others*. This should make us cau- 
 tious how we indulge ideas of atone- 
 ment for deficiency in one, by the ex- 
 ercise of others ; and, while we exert 
 our best endeavours to fill up as much 
 of the measure as we can, should make 
 us look up to the throne of mercy for the 
 remission we so much stand in need 
 of. 
 
 •The reason for our striving to attain them being the 
 same (or nearly so) with that for our fulfilment of the 
 commandments, the violation (wilful violation) of one of 
 which, we are told, includes that of all the others. A 
 deliberate compromise cannot well be made without a 
 view to self-indulgence ; a propensity that may give rise 
 to every wrong one. 
 
 " Virtue, our present peace, our future prize. 
 Man's unprecarious natural estate, 
 Improvable at will, in virtue lies ; 
 Its tenure sure j its income is divine." 
 
 (Night Thoughts t Night 6.) 
 
138 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 Patience and perseverance, patience 
 in enduring the troubles of this life, 
 various and multiplied as they may be, 
 which are not in our power to prevent ; 
 perseverance in performing the du ies 
 of it, which, however various, and per- 
 haps sometimes difficult, are within our 
 power ; for the exertion of the power 
 which each of us possesses, must, we 
 may presume, be the measure of our 
 duty and responsibility ; but how far 
 the exact fulfilment of that responsibi- 
 lity will be required of us, or how far the 
 justice that requires it, will be tempered 
 by mercy, must be decided at that tri- 
 bunal at which we all must appear, but 
 the decision of which none of us can 
 foresee. This, however, we are told by 
 the prophet Micah ; " What is required 
 of thee, O man, but that thou shouldest 
 do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly 
 
139 
 
 with thy God." Justice with all its 
 duties, mercy with all its benevolences, 
 anil humility, to which we are impelled 
 by our reason and the sense of our weak- 
 ness and dependence, and of the great- 
 ness of the Being on whom we depend : 
 these are what are required of us, and 
 on the observance of these depends our 
 happiness both here and hereafter ; for 
 the sense of their fulfilment, as far as 
 lies in our power, is the best enjoyment 
 this life can afford.* 
 
 XCV. 
 
 " Life is a jest, and all things shew it ; 
 I thought so once, but now I know it.'' 
 
 So says Gay's witty but absurd and 
 inconsistent epitaph. For if Gay knew 
 
 * " Soul, body, fortune ! every good pertains 
 To one of these ; but prize not all alike ; 
 The goods of fortune to thy body's health, 
 Body to soul, and soul submit to God. 
 
 Our schemes to plan by this world or the next, 
 Is the sole difference between wise and fool." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 8 ) 
 
140 
 
 it after his death, then the soul is im- 
 mortal, and there is a future life, and 
 this life is only a passage to, arid prepa- 
 ration for it: how then can this IHe be 
 called a jest? unless indeed we are to 
 say that all is a jest, and this life only 
 a passage from one jest to another, 
 which, I believe* would not be more ab- 
 surd than what Gay says. But these are 
 questions which wit, spleen, or levity do 
 not ask themselves. We give way to 
 the suggestions of our own humours, or 
 of partial and prejudiced considera- 
 tion, and w« forget the honest old pro- 
 verb, that " second thoughts are best." 
 " Humanum esterrare et nescire;" 'tis 
 true : but our errors may be (and are) 
 in part the effect of the ill habits, pas- 
 sions, or prejudices that we have in- 
 dulged, and our ignorance of the neglect 
 or misuse of the faculties that are given 
 us. If we think or feel at all, we shall 
 find that we are responsible to ourselves ; 
 that we have a monitor and judge within 
 
141 
 
 us, whose admonitions and decisions are, 
 we may be pretty sure, referable and 
 subject to the final ones of a higher tri- 
 bunal, whose revision they may stand in 
 need of: for it is in our power (and no 
 small part or proof of our free agency 
 that !) to corrupt and pervert, or rather 
 to stifle, the voice of our conscience. 
 But it is at our own peril that we do 
 that ; for by it we violate the most im- 
 portant part of our responsibility, in 
 corrupting and perverting the very 
 source of the means and securities that 
 are given us for the fulfilment of it.* 
 
 * " Follow nature still, 
 But look it be thine own : is conscience then 
 No part of nature ? is she not supreme ? 
 Thou regicide ! O raise her from the dead ! 
 Then follow nature, and resemble God. *' 
 When, spite of conscience, pleasure is pursued, 
 Man's nature is unnaturally pleas'd ; 
 And what's unnatural, is painful too 
 At intervals/' (Night Thoughts, Night S.) 
 
 " Oh ! be a man ; — and strive to be a god. 
 
 * For what? (thou say'st) to damp the joys of life ? 
 
 No ; to give heart and substance to thy joys. 
 
 (Ibid, Night 3.) 
 ? A blest hereafter, then, or hop'd, or gain'd, 
 Is all ; our whole of happiness : full proof 
 I chose no trivial or inglorious theme." {Ibid.) 
 
142 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 If we consider nothing as of any con- 
 sequence, life will be a blank, and we 
 must soon grow tired of it ; if too many 
 things, the mind will be perpetually har- 
 rassed, and, perhaps worn out by con- 
 tinual attention and solicitude : the only 
 thing that is sure to satisfy us, is, the ful- 
 filment of the great duties of this life, 
 with a due regard to its consequences in 
 the next; for the only thing of real con- 
 sequence in life is (to use the word in a 
 double sense) the end of it.* 
 
 There are, indeed, many things that 
 give us disquietude in life; but, perhaps* 
 what ought to give us the most is the 
 sense of our own imperfections : but in 
 
 * " Nothing can make it less than mad in man, 
 To put forth all his ardor, all his art, 
 And give his soul her full unbounded flight, 
 But reaching Him who gave her wings to fly." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 6.) 
 
143 
 
 this, a distinction is to be made (on due 
 consideration) between those which we 
 can or cannot help. But if life is a 
 state of probation, in what part of it can 
 we expect perfect satisfaction ? The 
 most important object in life, is to know 
 what is of real consequence. Shall we 
 say that things are of consequence ac- 
 cording as we make them so ? Certainly 
 not, What then is of real consequence ? 
 Our reason, with the higher aids which 
 have been vouchsafed to it, will inform 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 All is illusion here : the satiety we 
 feel in our enjoyments, our experience 
 of their uncertainty, and of that of the 
 
 * "In the great future buried deep, 
 Beyond our plans of empire and renown, 
 Lies all that man with ardor should pursue : 
 And he who made him, bent him to the right." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 70 
 
144 
 
 prosperity of states, &c. shew that it is 
 not meant that we should place our 
 chief interest in any thing this world 
 can afford,* Life is a school for indi- 
 viduals, and the fate of nations makes a 
 part of its discipline ; this is severe 
 sometimes, but what a conclusion does 
 that severity afford !f 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 What beauty there is in figurative 
 expression ! " Thy sun shall no more go 
 down, neither shall thy moon withdraw 
 
 * This needs not obstruct our rational enjoyment of 
 life ; for we do not (nor need we) live constantly in the 
 habit of entertaining these serious (or, if you will, gloomy) 
 thoughts. They may, however, be sometimes of use; and 
 perhaps should never be wholly lost sight of. The mind 
 that is never serious is little to be envied. 
 
 f To allege the necessity of this state of things, is by no 
 means to explain its cause ; that necessity cannot be self- 
 existent, but must have its origin in a higher dispensation, 
 the depth and wisdom of which we are totally unable to 
 fathom. That life is a state of probation is all that we 
 can, or that we need to know. 
 
 In what part of our lives are not the protection and 
 direction of an Almighty hand wanted ? 
 
145 
 
 itself ; for the Lord shall be thine ever- 
 lasting light, and thedaysof thy mourn- 
 ing shall be ended/'— « The Sun of 
 Righteousness shall rise with healing in 
 his wings." How strongly do these 
 passages address themselves to the 
 imagination and the feelings ! Not 
 meant to be understood literally, but 
 allusively to the effects which the sensi- 
 ble objects mentioned in them have 
 upon our minds, they refer us to a sub- 
 stitute for those objects, which will have 
 the same effect in an infinitely higher 
 degree, and without being subject to the 
 imperfections which accompany them : 
 that substitute being no less than the 
 source from which all those effects flow. 
 How naturally do our minds look up to 
 this Source* ("through nature to nature's 
 God") with the desire and the hope of 
 future powers of actually contemplating 
 
 * Feelings which increase > in us as we advance in life 
 and as we become more sensible of, and more experienced 
 in, its imperfections, its troubles, and its sorrows. 
 
146 
 
 it 1 Let not this be mistaken for the 
 language of enthusiasm :* it is the na- 
 tural expression of the feelings of every 
 mind in which they are unperverted, 
 and which, in meditating on what passes 
 within itself, can trace those feelings to 
 its proper source. 
 
 So the " Night Thoughts,'' 
 
 "Man but dives in death, 
 Dives from the sun in fairer day to rise." 
 
 And do we not hope this? And can 
 any mind that studies its own real hap- 
 piness., and its most natural and most 
 ardent wishes, dispense with the indul- 
 
 • " Enthusiastic, this ? then all are weak, 
 But rank enthusiasts. To this god-like height 
 Some souls have soar'd ; or martyrs ne'er had bled. 
 And all may do what has by man been done." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 6.) 
 " Man's immortality alone can solve 
 That darkest of enigmas, human hope ; 
 Of all the darkest, if at death Ave die. 
 * # * * * 
 
 Consider man as an immortal being, 1 
 Intelligible all, and all is great : 
 A crystalline transparency prevails, 
 And strikes full lustre thro' the human sphere : 
 Consider man as mortal, all is dark 
 _And wretched ; reason weeps at the survey." 
 
 (Ibid, KigM7.) 
 
147 
 
 gence of that hope? True it is, indeed, 
 that the objects of sense, and the im- 
 pulse of our passions, are continually 
 diverting us from these more abstracted 
 contemplations, to which, however, the 
 mind soon returns, when left to its own 
 serious reflections. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 Whoever dwells on what passes 
 within his own mind (and he who does 
 this must have feelings that excite 
 him to it, and perhaps also some of 
 the habits of a ei solitary fly") will, I 
 believe, find this conviction to be the 
 result of his attention, viz : that the 
 strongest effect of the highest pleasure 
 which the human mind can receive here 
 on earth, is to awaken in it a sense of its 
 capacity for still higher enjoyments,— 
 Those of this life, then, may be considered 
 
 L2 
 
348 
 
 as little more than excitements of pup 
 wishes and hopes.* 
 
 How comprehensive and how exactly 
 suited to our nature and situation here^ 
 
 * For what earthly enjoyments are without alloy ? and 
 what but unalloyed enjoyments can perfectly satisfy the 
 mind? 
 
 We may be content with what we enjoy here : we may 
 say that we are satisfied with it, and may "satisfy our- 
 selves :" but does this feeling perfectly accord with the 
 nature of our minds ? and should we feel that content, if* 
 it had no reference to futurity ? 
 
 But this is the result (as I have said elsewhere) of serious, 
 and, if you will, of deep reflection ; and of an advertence 
 of the mind to what passes within itself, which it is by- 
 no means (generally speaking) in the habit of : there is 
 plenty of room, therefore, for the occupations and amuse- 
 ments of life, without having recourse (comparatively 
 speaking) to " levity and vanity." 
 
 To what is said above, it may he added, that there is 
 (in feeling bosoms) a constant sigh, " drawn," as Young 
 well observes (in the Night Thoughts, Night the Seventh) 
 alike " by the cottager and king," for a peace of mind, 
 which this world cannot give, and which therefore can only 
 be expected in a state where it meets with no obstruc- 
 tions : and this, not the peace of insensibility, not the 
 dead repose of " abhorred annihilation," (Do. Night 7) 
 but a peace, which the soul is conscious of its enjoyment 
 of, and which, therefore, must require the utmost per- 
 fection of all its faculties to be enjoyed. 
 
149 
 
 afrrd to our hopes of -futurity, is that 
 precept of St. Paul, fC Be not weary in 
 well-doing !" 
 
 or. 
 
 We may (and must) sow and plant, 
 lvut we cannot ensure the increase. We 
 must put our hands to the plough, and 
 our shoulders (when necessary) to the 
 wheel, but we cannot be sure of the 
 success of our efforts. On what then 
 are we to depend for that success ? On 
 probability ? — But is that a dependence? 
 On the nature of things ?~ Is that an 
 efficient cause? Well then, we must 
 take our chance — but what is chance ? 
 No, there -is but one source of trust and 
 confidence: if our expectations (formed 
 as they are from the fallible -sugges- 
 tions of our own minds) from that source 
 fail us in one point, they will be made 
 up in another ; and the verv failures 
 
150 
 
 may lead to higher and more important 
 accomplishments. 
 
 CII. 
 
 How differently do things appear to 
 us, when we pay attention to them, and 
 when we do not ! And how much do 
 our opinions depend upon the disposition 
 of our minds ! 
 
 CM. 
 
 In youth all is gaiety and elasticity ; as 
 age advances, these of course decrease ; 
 but what the body loses, the mind, if 
 properly regulated, gains: for if what 
 may be called the animal enjoyments 
 of life are great in youth, the rational 
 are still greater in old age ; the mind 
 then dwells more on its own sensations 
 and perceptions, and knows better how 
 
151 
 
 to appreciate them* and the higher ob- 
 jects for which they were formed, to 
 direct them to the source from whence 
 they proceed, and in which they are 
 destined ultimately to terminate; for to 
 what else do, or can, our serious contem- 
 plations lead us ? 
 
 CIV. 
 
 The triumphs of vice are but tempo- 
 rary : why? because it contains within 
 itself the seeds of its own destruction. 
 Fortius reason amongst others (of which 
 it is perhaps one of the chief) the u gates 
 of hell will not prevail against Chris- 
 tianity." 
 
 * The mind cannot kmw its own powers 'till it is urged 
 to the exertion of ihem ; and this must sometimes be 
 done by adversity : for which, therefore, the knowledge 
 which the mind acquires of its powers, may be considered 
 as some compensation, in the satisfaction which that 
 knowledge gives, and in still more material points that are' 
 connected with it. 
 
m 
 
 cv. 
 
 '? Our Father" — What an interesting 
 appellation ! What protection may 
 we not expect from our Creator, when 
 he authorises us to address him by a title 
 so dear to men's interests and affections! 
 " Which art in heaven." — God is omni- 
 present, but there may be in some part 
 of the universe a more peculiar display 
 of his majesty and glory, and wherever 
 that is, it is Heaven. — " Hallowed be thy 
 name!" — and well may it be hallowed, 
 and never should it be profaned, nor 
 "taken in vain."--- And may "thy 
 kingdom come, and thy will be done !"— 
 " Forgive us our trespasses," &c. 
 
 Perhaps we may say, that it is for man 
 to forget, and for God to forgive. Men's 
 forgiveness of injuries seems often to 
 consist in their forgetting them, that is, 
 in their losing the sense of the injury 
 
m 
 
 done ; but in the Divine mind (if I may 
 so venture to speak) " mercy must 
 temper justice." It may, indeed, do so 
 in man, but it is then an effort, at least 
 when the injury is of a private nature. 
 We may forgive so as to suppress all 
 desire of retaliation, and even return 
 good for evil(as indeed we are com- 
 manded to do); but when our opinion of 
 a person is affected by injuries done us, 
 or by his conduct towards us, the im- 
 pression must remain, unless something 
 occurs to counterbalance it. In the 
 Divine nature, we may conceive the 
 attributes of justice and mercy* to exist 
 together, but we cannot conceive how 
 
 " A God all mercv, is a God unjust." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 4.) 
 " Can we conceive a disregard in Heaven 
 
 What the worst perpetrate, or best endure ? 
 
 ****** 
 
 If so, for what strange ends were mortals made ! 
 The worst to wallow, and the best to weep ! 
 
 ****** 
 
 Eternity, struck off from human hope, 
 (J speak withitruth, but veneration too) _ 
 Man is a monster, the reproach of Heaven." 
 
 (Ibid, Night 7.) 
 
154 
 
 they temper each other relatively to 
 man. In the human mind there is a 
 succession of ideas, which displace, and 
 for a time at least, efface each other ; 
 but in the divine mind, we cannot sup- 
 pose any such to take place. 
 
 In this and other injunctions, as well 
 as in our prayers for the Divine assist- 
 ance in the fulfilment of them, an effort 
 on our part is supposed and enjoined, 
 towards a perfection which must be our> 
 ulterior object (for what else would sti- 
 mulate or influence us?), as we cannot 
 attain it here. 
 
 CVJ, 
 
 If the loss of worldly enjoyments 
 makes us grieve, the possession of them 
 must often (when we think seriously, 
 at least) make us tremble ; not so much 
 from the fear of losing them, but (far 
 
155 
 
 more) from the sense of the responsibi- 
 lity they lay us under.* 
 
 CVII. 
 
 " Tribulation worketh patience, 
 patience experience, and experience 
 
 hope." 
 
 St. Pauls Fpis. to the Rom. ch. iv. ver. 3, 4. 
 
 CVJII. 
 
 Our opinion of our fellow creatures 
 should be a mixed sentiment, neither 
 too severe, nor too lenient ; and our 
 conduct towards them should be the re- 
 sult of it ; and all our observation of 
 
 " Is Heaven tremendous in its frowns ? most sure ; 
 
 And in its favors formidable too ! 
 
 Its favors here are trials ; not rewards : 
 
 A call to duty, not discharge from care." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night I J 
 
others should have for its end the cor- 
 rection of ourselves. 
 
 The proper way of being severe, is 
 se vere judicando. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 We sometimes say, (and we do not say 
 it satirically or ironically) that such a 
 person is <c too good to live in this world;" 
 a case which probably never has been, 
 nor ever will be realised ; but it shews 
 that we have an idea of a degree of 
 virtue superior to any that the purposes 
 of this world require, and which perhaps 
 is in some measure in opposition to them; 
 it is therefore a confession (in a manner 
 involuntary) of our belief of a future 
 state of existence.* Perhaps my reader 
 will say, Who does not feel that? 
 
 " A good man, and an angel I these between 
 Hew tliin the barrier I What divides their fate ? 
 Perhaps a moment -, or perhaps a year; 
 
157 
 
 CX. 
 
 Whoever has feelings, and considers 
 them, will know how necessary they are 
 to the formation of opinion. But our 
 feelings are apt to mislead us, and are 
 sometimes at variance with reason. Does 
 the right exercise of reason then require 
 the absence of feeling ? — or does it not 
 rather require a due mixture of both, 
 and as well their concurrence, as a 
 counteraction of one by the other, 
 varied according to the nature of the 
 case ? 
 
 There is no conviction more complete 
 
 Or if an age, it is a moment still ; 
 A moment, or eternity's forgot." 
 
 {Night Thoughts, Night 3.) 
 
 "To triumph in existence, his alone, 
 And his alone triumphantly to think 
 His true existence is not yet begun.'' 
 
 (Ibid, NightS.) 
 " ' Oh let me die his death'— all nature cries. 
 1 Then live his life'— all nature falters there." 
 
 Ubid, Night 5.) 
 
158 
 
 than that which is inspired by our feel- 
 ings, nor indeed can there be any that 
 is complete unless an impression is made 
 upon them. This appears evidently to 
 be the meaning of the Italian Proverb, 
 which ends with " muovere e vittoria."* 
 How is conviction produced ? And 
 what is necessary for that purpose ? Is 
 not the imperfection of our knowledge, 
 and the varied degrees of intelligence 
 among us, necessary for the freedom of 
 our agency ?f Does not the sense of our 
 imperfection necessarily induce a sense 
 of the imperfection of the demonstra- 
 tions we are capable of forming ? Rela- 
 tive truths may only admit of relative 
 
 * " In segnare e cosa di necessita ; 
 Dilettare e cosa di snavita : 
 Ma muovere e vittoria." 
 To instruct may be necessary, and to amuse may be 
 pleasing ; but the whole man is gained when his feelings 
 are moved, and his affections won. 
 
 f As a more determined rate fif the word is a proper 
 one) of knowledge and intellect among mankind, and on 
 a higher scale, might perhaps have a more determined 
 influence on their opinions and conduct. 
 
 The limited state of our knowledge may allow moFe 
 room for our feelings to act : and we may be pretty sure 
 that it is proportioned to our responsibility. 
 
159 
 
 proof, but in fact, those truths may be 
 real, though we only know them as 
 relative. What is reality, and how far 
 is it distinguishable from mere relation ? 
 
 CXI. 
 
 In reasoning upon natural subjects 
 I believe there must be a mixture of 
 metaphysics to direct our search after 
 truth. How much will experimental 
 philosophers allow of this ? If we can- 
 not resolve every thing into natural 
 causes, something must be referred to 
 the immediate will of the Supreme Cause 
 -—indeed every thing. — Does not this 
 lead us into metaphysics? Natural 
 causes, however, are the proper objects 
 of research in experimental philosophy, 
 though our admission of them should 
 be tempered with a reference to higher 
 agency : but the " nee Deus intersit, 
 nisi dignus vindice nodus" will proba- 
 
bly withhold philosophers from any me* 
 physical reasoning, while they have any 
 hope of solving their questions in a more 
 intelligible* (as we think at least) and 
 conclusive way, and also of acquiring 
 for themselves the satisfaction and the 
 merit of the solution. If they carry this 
 too far, however, they may find it will 
 end in defeat and disappointment. 
 
 CXII. 
 
 We are apt to imagine that we have 
 a full knowledge of what is familiar to 
 
 * This is not meant to lay any blame upon natural 
 philosophers, of whom it is a sufficient justification to 
 say, that an immediate reference to Supreme Power would 
 be in itself an abandonment of all further enquiry, which, 
 may be still carried on without losing sight of that ulti- 
 mate reference. This will secure them from any " defeat 
 and disappointment," as being the most satisfactory con- 
 clusion they can come to, and what all their enquiries 
 should tend to, and must end in. 
 
 " The world's a system of theology, 
 
 Read by the greatest strangers to the schools : 
 
 If honest, learn'd ; and sages o'er a plough." 
 
 (Night Thoughts,. Night?.) 
 
161 
 
 our observation, not considering how 
 superficial that observation is : and con- 
 sequently how imperfect is all our 
 knowledge. 
 
 CX1II. 
 
 A due attention to possibility and 
 probability, and to the evidences on 
 which the latter is founded (the former 
 needs or admits of none, but the very 
 sufficient one of a reference to Supreme 
 Power) will be of much use in guiding 
 our belief as well of things beyond, as 
 of those within, our comprehension. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 Conclusions from partial reasoning 
 often (perhaps always) make more 
 difficulties than they remove. 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 cxv. 
 
 It would perhaps be as impossible for 
 the mind to receive the doctrines of 
 Christianity, when simply offered to it 
 without the evidence that supports 
 them,* as it is for it to reject them, when 
 
 * In considering the mission, incarnation, and death of 
 our Saviour, the mind is confounded, and the strongest 
 intellect totally at a loss to conceive what appears so op- 
 posite to all the ideas we are inclined to form to ourselves 
 of the majesty of the Divine nature. But this difficulty, 
 insuperable as it may he, we are under no necessity, and 
 can have no reasonable inducement, toaltempt the solution 
 of, when we attend to the evidence which supports the 
 narration of this most wonderful event, and which we find 
 both in the Old and New Testament, but particularly in 
 the latter, though the former is a most powerful part 
 of the great chain of it: evidence which must in a 
 manner enforce our belief, and prepare our minds for a 
 grateful reception of what has, with such inconceivable 
 bounty and benevolence, been done for us. We then 
 submissively acknowledge the truth and the excellence 
 of the Christian doctrines, and are (or ought to be) thank- 
 ful for that belief which has thus been authorised, and, as 
 is saidbefore, enforced upon us. But this must suppose 
 a previous disposition to make a proper use of our reason, 
 in examining what it can comprehend, and in the con- 
 clusions which it draws from that examination. 
 
 The arguments urged respecting the necessity of an 
 atonement to satisfy the justice of God, are indeed answer- 
 able, but, from our want of greater and more general 
 comprehension, cannot perhaps be perfectly satisfactory 
 
m 
 
 that evidence is fairly and thoroughly 
 examined.* How strongly this calls for 
 our attention to them ! 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 (Southefs Life of Wesley, vol. 2, p. 143.) 
 Whether there is or is not a future 
 state after this life is over, it is no matter, 
 except as to the enjoyments or suffer- 
 ings of this life, when or how^ an end 
 
 to our minds : ^ there is therefore, a double obligation 
 upon us to restrict our consideration to what is within our 
 comprehension. To search for further satisfaction, 
 is only to court the disappointment of it, and consequent- 
 ly an opposite result. 
 
 * Was it not for this, that evidence would not have 
 been given. 
 
 What we cannot comprehend, we cannot be meant, to 
 examine with a view to comprehension ; but we are not 
 the less bound to believe it, on grounds that are within 
 our comprehension. 
 
 f Except when we accelerate our own destruction : for 
 in that case we at least run the risque of future responsi- 
 bility. ^ And how different must be the feelings of a man 
 who dies in that manner, from those of one who dies in the 
 discharge of his duty ! which every one may do, who lives 
 agreeably to the precepts of the gospel. 
 
 " I grant the deed 
 Is madness: but the madness of the heart, 
 And what is that ? our utmost bound of guilt." 
 
 (Night Thoughts, Night 5.) 
 M2 
 
164 
 
 is put to our existence here ; if there is 
 no future state, an end is put at once to 
 joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, and 
 no reward follows to virtue, no punish- 
 ment to vice., no compensation for suf- 
 fering, no retribution for commissions or 
 omissions. But if, as we must believe, 
 there is a future state of existence, the 
 mode of termination of our existence 
 here, and the state of it while it lasts, is 
 as nothing in comparison with what may, 
 and as our reason and our feelings, in 
 accord with the information we have re- 
 ceived, will tell us, will follow it. The 
 suspence* in which, with all the as- 
 surances that we may or can obtain, we 
 
 * Whatever incertitude there may be in our expecta- 
 tions of a future state, must arise chiefly, I apprehend, 
 from the incapacity of their nature to admit of a com- 
 plete demonstration, or rather of our intelligence to 
 receive it : hut the strength of the evidence in their favor, 
 and its operation on our reason and our feelings, will 
 gradually increase, and finally amount to a perfect con- 
 viction, by the attention we pay to it ; and this excite- 
 ment and effect is the best assurance we can have, that 
 those expectations are well-founded. (See note to page 
 76, &c) 
 
 Northbrooke, near Exeter, March 23, 182L 
 
165 
 
 are kept here in regard to this, is an 
 excitement both to our hopes and fears ; 
 and will, if we think and feel, have a 
 consequent effect on our conduct. 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 Part of a letter sent to the Gentleman's Magazine, Feb, 
 20, 1820, and inserted in it in April. 
 
 We are sensible of (and we are, or 
 ought to be, grateful for) our superiority 
 over the irrational part of the creation : 
 but we are also sensible (as I think we 
 may be allowed to be, in considering the 
 limits of our knowledge) of the inferi- 
 ority of our faculties to what we may 
 reasonably suppose are possessed by 
 beings superior to us. Is not the latter 
 sense (which seems the dawning* of a 
 
 * Man has an idea of perfection in his mind, which he 
 cannot find the reality of upon earth. For what would this 
 idea have been given to him, if he was never and no where 
 Jo find it realised ? It was given to direct, to stimulate 
 him : and for what, but that it may have its consum- 
 mation elsewhere ? " Be ye therefore perfect," &c. 
 
166 
 
 brighter light) a strong ground for the 
 hope of future exaltation? For why else 
 was it given us ? Many other arguments 
 might here be adduced; for this com- 
 parison of ours with the brute species, 
 makes but a part of what the admirable 
 " Night Thoughts" call " Reason's pre- 
 cious dower,"* in the investigation of 
 w hich, " proofs rise on proofs" in favor 
 of an expectation so inseparable from 
 the best feelings of our nature. Young's 
 enforcement of them indeed, I think, 
 authorises the climax to which he as- 
 cends, when he makes the immortality 
 of the soul and the existence of a Su- 
 preme Being correlative with each other 
 (puts them on the same ground of cer- 
 titude) : <f If man's immortal, there's a 
 God in Heaven."^- For without the one, 
 
 * "Reason's precious dower," is considered by Dr. 
 Young, as consisting in suffering, in a sense of that suffer- 
 ing, and in the hope of a future compensation for it. 
 
 f " Or own the soul immortal, or blaspheme." 
 
 {Night 'lhoughts, Night 7.) 
 "Be ye sure that the Lord he is God: it is he that 
 
167 
 
 what solid or permanent interest can 
 man have in the other? And when, in 
 concurrence with all the suggestions of 
 our reason and our feelings, we have 
 the assurance that is given us in the 
 sacred writings, the truth of which is 
 irrefragable when fairly examined, what 
 further proof can be wanting? If, how- 
 ever, still farther is desired, the very 
 existence of that desire, (I speak to 
 those who can think and feel) unsatis- 
 fied as itjs, and (for the best reasons) 
 must remain so in our present state, may 
 be urged as a proof that it will at some 
 time be satisfied ; that is, it will be lost 
 in the certain possession of its object ; 
 or to express myself still better, in the 
 
 hath made us, and not we ourselves : we are his people 
 and the sheep of his pasture." (\00th Psalm.) 
 
 Be ye sure also, that he who hath made us, and whose 
 people we are, is the God "not of the dead, but of the 
 living;" and that, therefore, as the souls of "Abraham, 
 Isaac, and Jacob" still live, so shall our souls also survive 
 the gravi : and the sheep of his pasture here, shall have 
 an everlasting pasture hereafter. 
 
 Bristol Hotwells, March a, 1821. . 
 
168 
 
 words of Mr. Mason, in his beautiful 
 elegy on the death of Lady Coventry : 
 
 " Eternity, by all or hop'd or fear'd, 
 Shall be by all or suffer'd or enjoy'd.'* 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 The interest that we take in reading 
 Young's Night Thoughts, seems to de- 
 pend most on the want we feel of those 
 consolations and encouragements which 
 his arguments in favour of the expecta- 
 tion of a future state so powerfully 
 afford.* 
 
 * The Night Thoughts are equally full of feeling and of 
 argument, of the most animated expression, and the 
 strongest reasoning ; and on what a subject ! 
 
 But read — read, ye who have taste and feeling, and 
 wish to gratify both : Taste ? say you — yes taste ; for if 
 feeling is excited— and what are Young's redundancies, 
 and, if you will, his inequalities ? his waste of argument, 
 yes, wasted,; if addressed "surdis auribus," or even his 
 sample of metaphors, of which one, speaking of galley 
 slaves, " who plough the wintry wave, and reap despair," 
 is terribly impressive,— "Folly sings six, while nature 
 points at twelve," is ludicrous. But these are spots, let 
 me say, in the sun. " JHigh to bear my brow, and drink 
 
169 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 -Reflections suggested by the view of Francesco Molatf 
 Picture of H agar, Ishmaei, and the AngeU 
 
 The narrations of the bible must 
 either be considered as true, or else as 
 ingenious ways of accounting for the 
 events that have happened on earth, and 
 for the origin of nations, &c. ; or they 
 must be considered altogether as fic- 
 tions, imagined to answer particular 
 purposes, or from caprice, &c. Of their 
 truth, their simplicity is one (besides 
 
 the spirit of the golden day, and triumph in existence." — 
 Is not this to "mount upon a wing of fire ?" and other 
 passages, in seeking which oilier treasures will unfold 
 themselves. No, Pope— you had more correctness, more 
 polish ; but you had not this spirit—no, you had it not — 
 Young's poetry was wanted to animate us ; and it does 
 animate us, in referring us to the bible, of which it may 
 be called a noble paraphrase. 
 
 An old clergyman, (Mr. Montague, of Dorsetshire) said 
 that he had laid aside all his books, except his bible and 
 Horace ; why not add the Night Thoughts ? Shall we 
 shrink from them? No, embrace them, and they will warm 
 us, warm us into new life, of which they are the heralds, 
 for they speak the language of the gospel. 
 
170 
 
 others) great evidence ;* and it does 
 not very well accord with that ingenuity 
 which is implied in the second supposi- 
 tion, and for which there does not appear 
 to have been the requisite means, or any 
 occasion, at the time when the history 
 was probably composed. Nor can we 
 suppose that they were mere fictions 
 imposed upon the credulity of the peo- 
 ple, with whose history they were inter- 
 mixed > and to whose traditions, and 
 even (some of them at least) personal 
 recollections, they must have been re- 
 ferable. If they were a mixture of truth 
 and fiction, the Divine agency recorded 
 
 * On my observing to a friend, " how simple and cir- 
 cumstantial the narratives of the scriptures are," he added 
 very properly, " and how expressive ;" which perhaps is 
 their strongest chaiacteristic, and as strong an attestation 
 of their truth and divine origin. The observation was 
 suggested by the narrative of the prophet Elisha, Naaman, 
 and Gehazi ; and the more we attend to all the circum- 
 stances which are connected with the narration of the 
 bible, the more we shall be convinced of their truth, I 
 mean if we fairly attend 10 them ; not with the malignant 
 prejudices and designs of a, Paine, or spirits of similar 
 mould ; his, indeed (poor wretched man !) was the extreme 
 of infidelity, shewing itself in all its naked deformity, 
 without the veil with which their's is sometimes covered : 
 and we have seen the fruits of it in his life and death. 
 
171 
 
 in them, (which in that case we must 
 suppose to have been the fictitious part) 
 must also have been matter of appeal to 
 recollection ; and if so, how could the 
 Jews be made to believe they had seen 
 and remembered what in reality had 
 never happened ? To suppose that the 
 whole, i. e. the historical part, and all, 
 was fiction, and intended for the use and 
 reception of future nations, is far too 
 wild and absurd for a moment's admis- 
 sion : it supposes a previous knowledge 
 of the existence of those nations, and of 
 every thing relating to them, and of the 
 whole train of events that took place 
 afterwards ; or else an influential power 
 over them ; and in either case it must 
 imply a reach of intellect far more 
 than human ; it ascribes to the original 
 composers a power and knowledge 
 overruling all human agency and casu- 
 alty, and gives 
 
 " Divinitus illis 
 Ingenium, et reruro fato prudentia major." 
 
 What then becomes of the supposition 
 of human ingenuity ? 
 
172 
 
 CXX. 
 
 General conclusions should never be 
 formed, without some attention at least 
 to the details which must necessarily be 
 connected with them. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 A strong persuasion may be equal to 
 conviction ; and it may be a necessary 
 substitute for it, in cases where that de- 
 gree of comprehension cannot be had, 
 which is required to impress a perfect 
 conviction on the mind, but where there 
 is (as I believe there may be) as strong 
 a call upon the mind to give its assent, 
 when the case is fairly examined, as 
 there would be if the comprehension 
 were more compleat. This, I believe, 
 will be instanced in cases where the ad- 
 
173 
 
 dress is made, both to the reason and 
 the feelings, or at least where their 
 united operation is required to form a 
 just judgment ; as in religion. The 
 union of both may often be necessary ; 
 for there is a great difference between 
 assenting to a truth, and feeling it. 
 
 Many things indeed are true in part, 
 and cease to be so when they are 
 pushed beyond a certain point. To 
 what indeed will not the " ne quid nimis" 
 extend ? We mav be " righteous over- 
 much ; but a partial signification is 
 here to be given to the word "righ- 
 teous."* 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 The great variety of opinions on al- 
 most all subjects seems to afford that 
 
 • As being exemplified in its excess ; to which our 
 feelings may easily carry it, when not tempered by 
 judgment.— May not Horace be quoted here ? 
 
 " Insani sapiens nomen ferat, sequus iniqui,^ 
 Ultra quain satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam." 
 
 Lib. 1. Epist. 6. 
 
174 
 
 opportunity for discussion, and for the 
 exercise of the powers of the mind that 
 they require. 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 There seems to be an odd struggle 
 between the mind's sense of its powers, 
 and of its impotence, or at least of the 
 imperfection of its powers. 
 
 CXXIV. 
 
 Of how many things does our opinion 
 depend on the light in which we view 
 them ! 
 
 CXXV. 
 
 So much you said, so much you wrote, 
 so much you thought, and so much you 
 
175 
 
 felt. Is it not so, ye who speak, who 
 write, who think, and feel? 
 
 CXXVI. 
 
 c * A wit's a feather, and a chiefs a rod j 
 An honest man's the noblest work of God." 
 
 These lines of Pope have been cri- 
 ticised, as being a sacrifice or a compa- 
 rative depreciation of those endowments 
 in which he himself excelled, and which 
 may be thought to constitute the highest 
 excellence of man's nature, in the pre- 
 ference given to a quality which may be 
 possessed by men of the meanest abilities. 
 But it should be considered, that to be 
 an honest man, in the fullest sense of 
 term (in which it is fair to suppose that 
 Pope meant it) implies more than a mere 
 exemption from the disposition to rob 
 or cheat ; that the aversion from doing 
 a dishonest action of any kind requires 
 an assemblage of qualities to secure it, 
 
176 
 
 beyond what could be done by mere 
 pride, or the fear of shame. These 
 latter may be consistent enough with a 
 disposition to cheat the world, or our- 
 selves : to be perfectly honest and just 
 to both, requires the highest degree of 
 moral excellence, and in such a measure, 
 as can only be filled by religion. Let 
 a man be as generous, kind, and amia- 
 ble in his manners as he will, he may 
 conceal within himself some qualities 
 which, though the world may overlook 
 or pardon them for the sake of his social 
 merits, may not meet with an equal 
 acquittal in the sight of Heaven. If any 
 tribunal on earth can decide this, it must 
 be that of his own conscience. In the 
 judgment of the world, too, we may 
 observe the distinction made between 
 what induces us to say, <c I believe that 
 man is honest," and " 1 believe that 
 is an honest man." The latter is far 
 more comprehensive and expressive 
 than the former, and such is probably 
 
177 
 
 the "honest man" that was pointed at 
 by Pope. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 The proverb ie Every man for him- 
 self, and God for us all," seems to 
 have much the same meaning and spirit 
 as Juvenal's u nullum numen abest, si 
 sit prudentia :" and both, properly ui> 
 derstood, and with the restrictions they 
 require, are right. 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 Pope's Essay on Man is, 1 think, much 
 more valuable and instructive on ac- 
 count of the many passages in it which 
 the events of life and our own reflections 
 are continually bringing to " our breasts 
 and bosoms," than taken altogether as a 
 
 systematic poem; for as such it is imper- 
 
 N • 
 
178 
 
 feet and uninstructive, or rather, it is 
 calculated to mislead, if not understood 
 with proper restrictions. The world, as 
 Pope says, is truly "a mighty maze, but 
 not withouta plan :" and there are parts 
 of that plan, which are apparent to a re- 
 flecting mind : but to unravel the whole, 
 or even the main and higher parts of it, 
 must be a vain attempt. For all the 
 information we can receive of these, we 
 must refer to the scriptures. 
 
 Such passages in Pope's Essay as, 
 
 te There's not a bliss the human heart can find, 
 But some way leans and hearkens tomankind:'* 
 And, 
 
 " If then to all men happiness was meant, 
 God in externals could not place content:" 
 
 And many others, are highly beautiful, 
 and speak strongly to the reason and the 
 feelings. 
 
 Perhaps it may be said of many parts 
 of this poem, that the thoughts are such 
 as may appear obvious enough to a 
 thinking mind, but they very probably 
 

 179 
 
 might not have occurred to it, if they 
 had not been suggested and enforced by 
 the beauty of the poetry : and we may 
 say the same of many points of morality, 
 which appear to us now plain enough, 
 and not to be missed, but which we are 
 indebted in part for our knowledge of, 
 and attention to, to the scriptures. 
 Everything, when known, appears easy 
 and familiar to our intelligence. 
 
 CXXIX. 
 
 We may sometimes have a strong and 
 well-founded sense of the rectitude of 
 our opinions, without being able fully 
 to express or explain them; but then 
 we should be careful not to deceive 
 ourselves ; for there are various ways 
 of doing that. 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 CXXX. 
 
 Ex Lactantii, Divin. lnstitut. Epitome, cap, 29, 
 Malum cur Deus patiatur. 
 
 "Qu.ero utrumve virtus bonum sit, 
 aut malum ? Negari non potest, quin 
 bonum : si bonum est virtus, malum est 
 igitur e contrario vitium. Si vitium ex 
 eo malum est, quia virtutem impugnat ; 
 et virtus ex eo bonum est, quia vitium 
 affligit : ergo non potest virtus sine vitio 
 consistere, et si vitium sustuleris, virtu- 
 tis merita tollentur ; nee enim potest 
 ulla fieri sine hoste victoria, Ita fit, ut 
 bonum sine malo esse non possit." — (Et 
 seq. usque ad capitis finem.) 
 
 Sic Horatius, " Virtus est vitium fu- 
 gere, et sapientia prima stultitia caru- 
 isse." 
 
 " Cum de hominis summo bono quae- 
 ritur, tale constitui debet, ut id ad ho- 
 minem solum pertineat, deinde, ut ani- 
 
181 
 
 mi sit proprium, postremo, ut virtute 
 quaeratur." — (Lact. Epist. cap. 33.) 
 
 "Si virtus, quae bona omnia terrena 
 contemnit, mala patientissime perferr, 
 ipsamque mortem pro officio suscipit, 
 sine pra&mio esse non potest, quid super- 
 est, nisi merces ejus immortalitas sola 
 sit?"— (Id. cap. 35.) 
 
 " Sapientia* non in sermonis ornatu, 
 sed in corde atque sensu." — (Ibid.) 
 
 CXXXI, 
 
 How much may a single word contain 
 in itself, allowing a little play upon it : 
 for instance : 
 
 Beseem — be what you seem, and 
 seem what you be : if right in both, you 
 
 * "Sapientia," &c— The truth of this is the more evident, 
 as wisdom is very frequently evinced by the feelings and 
 the conduct which they influence, where the powers of 
 expression are defective, or at least very inadequate. 
 And, on the contrary, eloquence is no proof of wisdom ; 
 tiro source of which lies higher and deeper than human 
 language can reach. 
 
182 
 
 are as it beseems you to be. To be 
 right, and consistent in that right, is as 
 much as can well be required ; but for 
 this, how much is required ! The 
 nearer we approach to that standard, 
 the better we are; but how often do the 
 infirmities of our nature make us fall 
 short of it ! " Nemo vitiis sine nascitur 
 optimus illequi minimis urgetur." But 
 does this express enough ? What is an 
 exemption from vice, unless the vacancy 
 is filled up by virtue? We are, then, 
 to give a more extended meaning to 
 "vitia," and to consider defects as evil 
 propensities, omissions as commissions : 
 but — " Virtus est vitium fugere ;" this 
 makes exemption from vice the effect of 
 exertion,, and exertion once begun 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 There may be persons of both sexes 
 who interest us greatly, without being 
 objects of our esteem and confidence 
 
 
I S3 
 
 we have therefore to guard against the 
 interest we are inclined to take in them, 
 that it may not turn (in various ways) 
 to our disadvantage. Attachment re- 
 quires confidence, which should be 
 founded in esteem. Where this is 
 wanting, compassion is perhaps the 
 warmest sentiment we should indulge. 
 Men have been blamed for not shewing 
 a return of kindness to the poor females 
 whom they have seduced ; butthe fault 
 (or crime rather) is in the seduction. 
 Continuance of affection requires some- 
 thing more than the passion (even 
 when it is of a better kind than mere 
 lust) ^hich led to the seduction. — 
 The giving way to that passion and its 
 excesses is a wrong of another and a 
 higher kind than merely as an injury 
 done to the female who suffered herself 
 to be seduced. The greatest violation 
 is that of our responsibility.* 
 
 * " While we learn to fence with public guilt, 
 Full oft we feel its fuul contagion too, 
 If less than heavenly virtue be our guard/' 
 
 (Mght Thoughts, Night 8.) 
 
184 
 
 CXXXTII. 
 
 What a mixture of good and bad, of 
 truth and error, there is in the affairs 
 and the minds of men ! shewing itself 
 particularly when they get out of the 
 common road of life, and engage in 
 higher, deeper, or more complicated 
 pursuits. In the former they are kept 
 in order, and their conduct is regulated 
 by their own common sense, and the 
 general opinion and observation of those 
 around them ; in the latter they may 
 
 "Virtue, for ever frail, as fair, below, 
 Her tender nature suffers in the crowd, 
 Nor touches on the world, without a stain. 
 The world's infectious ; few bring back at eve, 
 Immaculate, the manners of the morn." 
 
 But {.Ibid, Night 5.) 
 
 " By strong guilt's most violent asssault 
 Conscience is but disabled, not destroyed." 
 
 With remains of power, then, more to torment than to 
 reform. But this is its last and lowest state ; let it not 
 be anticipated ; or if anticipated, only to be prevented, 
 while an hour of the "day" remains; but let us dread 
 the last. 
 
185 
 
 soon be placed out of the reach (in some 
 degree at least) and influence of these 
 checks, the operation of which is 
 weakened or diverted by a variety of 
 temptations, perplexities, ambiguities, 
 &c. : examples of these abound in the 
 moral world, in all matters where re- 
 ligion or politics, or the intermixture of 
 these, which must inevitably happen, 
 are concerned. (See Southey's Life of 
 Wesley, vol. 2, p. 304, 318, et passim.) 
 It should be added to this, that the 
 instances must be sought for in indi- 
 viduals whose situation in life, and above 
 all, whose character and endowments, 
 render them liable to, and qualify them 
 for, these deviations from the common 
 path of it 
 
 CXXXIV 
 
 In reading some accounts of the 
 Methodists and their doctrines, one is 
 
186 
 
 almost tempted to imagine that either 
 a reasonable conduct and discourse are 
 inconsistent with holiness, or else that 
 -what we call and think reasonable, is 
 not really so.* But the Methodists (as 
 they are described in Southey's Life of 
 Wesley) do not seem disposed to con- 
 sult their reason ; they wait for inspira- 
 tion. It must however, I believe, be 
 allowed, that the Methodists have in 
 some cases (perhaps many) done good, 
 particularly in such cases as that of the 
 colliers of Kingswood, near Bristol, &c. 
 and in reclaiming many individual pro- 
 fligates ; but it is a good alloyed with, 
 and in some respects founded upon, 
 delusion ; which must be the case, if the 
 doctrines of the Methodists are er- 
 roneous ; and what reasonable man that 
 considers their enthusiastic notions, 
 however supported by the ingenious 
 arguments (sophistical as they are) of 
 
 * That is, if we give the Methodists more credit for- 
 soundness of judgment than they sureiy deserve. 
 
187 
 
 John Wesley (see Southey's Life of 
 him, vol. 2, pa. 178, and others), but 
 will pronounce them to be erroneous, 
 and not drawn from any fair or reason- 
 able interpretation of the scriptures ? 
 The errors, however, and the arguments 
 in defence of them, seem often to come 
 so near the truth (of which indeed they 
 may be only exaggerations) that they 
 are the more calculated to persuade, 
 delude, and even, when disapproved of, 
 to suspend rejection. ---'In page 179 
 (vol. 2) a distinction is made between 
 those who are u previously holy" &c. 
 and those who are perfectly opposite ; 
 and " belief in Christ" is stated to be 
 " the free gift of God," bestowed only 
 on the second description of persons 
 (not being wanted by the first) in con- 
 sequence of their having si a sense of 
 mere sin and misery, without any merit 
 or goodness of their own." The great 
 danger of this seems to be in their being 
 induced to wait for the "free gift" 
 
188 
 
 without making any effort to obtain it; 
 or to have this "sense of sin and misery" 
 excited in them, without connecting 
 those evils with any violation of the 
 rules of morality, or considering the 
 observance of those rules as any means 
 of obtaining the Divine favor. If they do 
 make these connections, it must be by 
 their own better judgment, and not from 
 any instructions they receive from the 
 preacher, but rather from an ability to 
 see through the delusions that his doc- 
 trine is calculated to lead them into, and 
 to sift the truth from the errors with 
 which it is mixed and alloyed. « ; Veritas 
 magna est, et praevalebit" must, 1 think, 
 be often evinced in the influence which 
 sensible, clear-headed, and reasonable 
 men have over those who want those 
 qualities : this influence may perhaps 
 be slow, yet sure. 
 
 (Southey's Life of Wesley, vol. 2, p. 79 and W.J 
 
 All the direction here appears to 
 be to one object. If that object was a 
 
proper one, and properly followed, 
 well and good. This seems to be the 
 great question. But how many will say, 
 that there was more of cunning than of 
 sound policy (so nearly connected with 
 honesty) in this: however, whether 
 they were, in acting thus, the " children 
 of this world" (indignant as the Me- 
 thodists would be to hear themselves so 
 called) or the " children of light" (not 
 merely of their own light) their conduct 
 seems to have been consistent with its 
 end. But how are we to distinguish error 
 from fraud, or enthusiasm from impos- 
 ture ? or, in fine, to analyse the combi- 
 nation which there might perhaps be of 
 them all ? And where is the line to be 
 drawn between hypocrisy and self- 
 delusion ?* 
 
 * When we are inclined to impute the vice of hypocrisy, 
 we should not forget that it may possibly be only the 
 weakness of inconsistency. We may impute to insincerity, 
 what in fact is more owing to want of judgment. But 
 these appear to be effects only which must be attributed 
 to their causes ; for all our impulses must spring from 
 some prior motive, and every habit must have its begin- 
 ning. The source then of all this mischief is probably in 
 that common misleaderof human judgment, vanity. 
 
190 „ 
 
 "Humanum est errare,"* certainly; 
 and also, decipere ; and (how often !) 
 to mistake error for truth. Is not 
 Methodism liable to this reproach, that 
 the perversions of it by its followers are 
 only to be guarded against by nice dis- 
 tinctions ? Perhaps this will be said of 
 Christianity ; but it contains all the 
 preventions of perversion within itself, 
 and if the perversion is made, it must 
 be wilfullyf and by partial and unfair 
 interpretation. 
 
 The exaggerations of enthusiasm ap- 
 pear to be inevitable, as being natural 
 to minds disposed to give way to their 
 feelings on subjects the most capable of 
 exciting them, and in which they are 
 the most likely to get loose from the 
 controlling power of reason. We may 
 presume that these errors will be recti- 
 
 * If" Hnmanum est errare" is true, what mercy may 
 not error hope for, through the mediation of Christ, 
 when it is not mixed with wilful perversion ! 
 
 f Or at least in opposition to sound judgment. Should 
 we not, then, sometimes revise our principles ? 
 
191 
 
 fled in a future state, in which the 
 strength of our passions, and the sense 
 of our wants and weakness will no 
 longer impel* us to seek comfort and 
 support from a source of which our 
 estimation here is so apt to be in- 
 fluenced by what those feelings suggest 
 to our minds. In a future state all will 
 (we may hope) be enlightened and 
 purified, and other and better feelings, 
 unmixed with the alloys of our present 
 state, will direct our views to those 
 objects, which here we u see, as through 
 a glass (the glass of our imperfect facul- 
 ties) darkly." 
 
 * Or rather, will no longer mislead us in seeking that 
 comfort and support. A fuller knowledge of that 
 " source" will give us a reliance far more to he depended 
 upon. 
 
 m " The dread path once trod, 
 Heav'n lifts its everlasting portals high, 
 And bids the pure in heart behold their God. 
 
 Mason. 
 
 Who (it may be asked) are the " pure in heart. Those 
 whose hearts are " made clean," and in whom " a right 
 spirit is renewed. " And can we do that ourselves, without 
 assistance ? And is not that assistance promised to those 
 who exert their efforts. 
 
192 
 
 " The next day he observed that 
 c our Lord's sermon on the mount was 
 one pretty remarkable precedent of 
 field -preaching :' and he adds i I sup- 
 pose there were churches at that time 
 also;' a remark which first indicates 
 a hostile feeling towards the Establish- 
 ment, for it has no other meaning." 
 (Sou they 's Life of Wesley, vol. 1, 
 p. 244.) 
 
 This hostile feeling, I think, would 
 naturally accompany, or at least follow, 
 the adoption of the practice. It will, 
 perhaps, be said, that the sermon on the 
 mount was, as well as the rest of our 
 Saviour's doctrines, hostile to the Esta- 
 blishment then subsisting: but, granting 
 this, does it follow that all opposition 
 to, or dissent from, succeeding Es- 
 tablishments are justified by it, founded 
 as the Establishments are on Chris- 
 tianity as first promulgated, and de- 
 pendent (in some degree at least) as 
 the deviations from it will be, on the 
 
193 
 
 caprice or passions of those who thus 
 deviate ?* 
 
 The enthusiasm of the Methodists, 
 &c. leads one to suppose that perfect 
 self-satisfaction is only to he found in 
 self-delusion ; and so indeed it probably 
 is ; for how can perfect self-satisfaction 
 be consistent with the frailties and im- 
 perfectionsf of our nature, or with our 
 dependence on the mercies of God, and 
 the merits of our Redeemer ? Who 
 that knows himself (if only in part) will 
 expect ever to be perfectly satisfied 
 with himself? The Methodists, indeed, 
 seem to mix that feeling with a reliance 
 on higher assistance and protection ; but 
 they are extravagant in their expectation 
 of this, and in fact (in respect to their 
 estimation of what passes within theni- 
 
 * To which, however, they choose to trust, without 
 any diffidence of themselves, or deference to the opinions 
 of others ; at least the first " deviators" (sectarists) ap- 
 pear to "be so influenced ; should we not therefore trace 
 these errors to the motives of their founders ? 
 
 t i. e. our sense of them. 
 
 O 
 
m 
 
 selves) look to the same end through 
 the same means, that is, in self-persua- 
 sion, or more properly, self-delusion.* 
 
 CXXXV. 
 
 " I come not to send peace on earth (or on this 
 land, Judaea, as Mr. Bryant renders it) but a sword." 
 
 To what Mr. Bryant has observed on 
 this passage of the New Testament/* I 
 think it may be added, that we are too 
 apt to apply our Saviour's words; and 
 other passages of the New Testament, 
 to our own times and those that may 
 succeed them. Many indeed may be 
 so applicable; but we should recol- 
 lect that in laying the foundation of 
 his religion, our Saviour would most 
 
 * Must rigidity of principle in human or divine matters, 
 be inevitably carried into bigotry ? Is laxity of opinion 
 inseparable from liberality ? or are bigotry and laxity 
 only the extremes of the others ? 
 
 " Auream quisquis mediocritatem," &c. 
 
 But where is this middle line ? is it not a fluctuating one ? 
 
195 
 
 probably deliver himself in language 
 the most intelligible and impressive ; 
 and what related to the country and the 
 times his disciples lived in, or to the 
 times which were soon to follow, would 
 of course be the most so. The above 
 appears to be proved by our construc- 
 tion of the passage ; for in applying it 
 to the times which have passed since our 
 Saviour's mission, and to our own, and 
 those which are soon to follow ours, we 
 seem to be guided by what is most in- 
 telligible to us, and most interesting. 
 It may also be observed, that our ideas 
 of the importance of our Saviour's 
 mission, (important as indeed it was) and 
 of his dignity and the knowledge he 
 possessed, may make us put a more 
 general and remote construction on his 
 words, than (as I said before) his object 
 in laying the foundation of a religion 
 which was gradually to increase and be 
 diffused, appears to require or admit of.,. 
 
 02 
 
196 
 
 The doctrines and precepts of our 
 religion were meant for us, but also for 
 those to whom they were delivered, and 
 of course in terms that would be adapted 
 to their intelligence and feelings. As 
 they were delivered, they have been 
 handed down to us. Our reception of, 
 and habitual attention to them (where 
 they make the proper impression) have 
 interested us equally in them, and such 
 will (progressively) be the effect where- 
 ever they are received. 
 
 CXXXVI, 
 
 [ What follows was partly snggested by the 
 reading of " Christie's Worship of the Elements/' 
 and " Maurice on the Ruins of Babylon," &c. in 
 which the reasoning and inferences drawn have 
 been called "fanciful," a term which, with all that 
 it implies, seems to me to be hardly consistent with 
 candour or justice. Some respect at least may be 
 due to the analogies they trace j and this for the 
 reasons given below.] 
 

 
 197 
 
 Connections and analogies are more 
 or less immediate and obvious, or remote 
 and indistinct : it depends upon the 
 judgment to determine how far they are 
 to be trusted to, and what conclusions 
 are to be drawn from them ; if the ob- 
 scurity of some subjects will not admit 
 of the same light being thrown upon 
 them as upon others that are less obscure, 
 we must not for that reason reject the 
 light that they are capable of receiving: 
 one will be in proportion to the other ; 
 and perhaps may operate as powerfully 
 in the weaker, as in the stronger cases ; 
 in the former, however, they may de- 
 rive their force from accumulation, 
 which puts them on a par with the 
 latter.* 
 
 * As (perhaps) in the distinction between presumptive 
 and positive evidence. 
 
198 
 
 CXXXVII. 
 
 Hodie est tricesima Sabbata, vinta 
 
 Curtis Judasis oppedere ? Nulla mihi, inquam, 
 Religio est : at mi - t sum paulo infirmior, unus 
 Multorum."* {Hot. Lib. \, Sat. ^) 
 
 This appears to shew that the Romans 
 had vague and floating ideas of religion, 
 
 • It seems to me not at all improbable that " Fuscus 
 Aristius" (of whom Horace speaks with so much regard 
 in this satire) had paid considerable attention to the 
 doctrines and sacred books of the Jews, and that he had 
 a degree of respect for them. 
 
 The mere unwillingness to give scandal to the Jews 
 themselves was, I think, hardly sufficient to account for 
 the respect he seems to pay to their religion (possibly 
 indeed in common with other religions) in his " at mi," 
 &c. especially when we consider the impression which the 
 sublimity of it, &c. was likely to make on a man who 
 was inclined and able to pay due attention to it. .This 
 surely would induce him to make the comparison in its 
 favor. A step further, in succeeding times, might have 
 made a Christian of him. 
 
 I think a man who was Horatio " carus" was not 
 likely to be merely "unus multorum." He vould have 
 something to distinguish him from the "ot ttoWoi," 
 
 If it is objected that Fuscus Aristius gave his " at mi," 
 &c. as an ironical reason (" male salsus) for leaving 
 Horace " sub cultro," still I think there is enough in the 
 passage to make the above conjectures probable, agreeing 
 too, as it does, with the general practice of the Romans. 
 What regards Fuscus Aristius, must be left to the ideas 
 
m 
 
 which led them to pay respect to modes 
 of it very different from their own (for 
 such was the Jewish religion from the 
 Heathen Mythology) and it will, per- 
 haps^ account for that extended .tolera- 
 tion . which they gave to every other 
 religion which did not directly interfere 
 with the practice of their own, as the 
 Christian religion afterwards did, and 
 thereby drew upon its professors the 
 severest persecutions. Those who 
 adopted the opinions of any particular 
 sect of philosophers, might be said to 
 have a sort of code of their own, among 
 which it appears that Horace had chosen 
 the Epicurean---" Deos didici securum 
 
 we may form of his character ; at any rate he shews a 
 knowledge of the Jewish customs : and I think something 
 may be inferred from Horace's putting the expression 
 of it into his mouth. That expression could hardly have 
 ridicule for its sole object. 
 
 Horace's regard for Fuscus Aristius is still more 
 strongly expressed in the epistle addressed to him, 
 Ep. 1.0, Lib. I. — "pene gemelli," except "in re una," and 
 " vetuli notique columbi, " as they are there described 
 to be, .we may hope that their mutual admonitions— 
 " Laetus sorte tua vives sapienter Aristi ; necme dimities 
 incastigatum," &c. were mutually useful. 
 
200 
 
 agere aevum,"&c.-- -a system which led 
 him to suppose that the Gods did not 
 interfere at all with the concerns of man- 
 kind. But what he says in his ode* 
 " Parcus Deorum cultor et infrequens," 
 &c. (a sort of Palinodia) is in direct op- 
 position to this. 
 
 CXXXVIIL 
 
 Horace avoit un fonds de bon sens,f 
 qui l'empechoit de rester toujours at- 
 tache au systeme Epicureen, et le for- 
 coit enfin iC retrorsum vela dare." — 
 II pensoit pour lui-meme, et il etoit, en 
 consequence, "nullius addictus jurare in 
 verba magistri," parceque apparem- 
 ment il netrouvoit aucun des systemes 
 philosophiques qui meritoit tout son 
 
 * This ode may be considered as an acknowledgment 
 of the agency of a Providence in producing effects and 
 changes that cannot be foreseen or accounted for by 
 human reason. 
 
 t The reader is requested to excuse the occasional ex- 
 pression of opinion in (I hardly know why) the French, 
 language. 
 
201 
 
 devouement. The line which follows 
 the above, <l Quo me cunque rapit tem- 
 pestas deferor hospes," seems to mean 
 that his opinions were influenced by the 
 circumstances and suggestions of the 
 moment. He had nol the doctrines of 
 Christianity, to fix at once his reason and 
 his feelings. Yes, to fix them : for 
 however the needle may be shaken or 
 may vacillate, to that point it will re- 
 turn.---" Le sacrifice de nos lumieres 
 natu relies, sur ce qui concerne les causes 
 primitives, est-il un si grand sacrifice ? 
 J 'en appelle a la bonne foi des philoso- 
 phes qui ont etudiel'histoirede l'esprit 
 humain. La religion (surtout la Chre- 
 tienne) ne nous ote pas une de nos con- 
 noissances utiles et reelles. Elle affer- 
 mit celles qui sont chancelantes, etnous 
 en donne que nous n'aurions pas sans 
 elle ; son flambeau s'allume ou celui de 
 la raison s'eteint," &c. (La morale 
 d'Epicure &c. par PAbbe Batteux, page 
 128.) This is admirable, but 1 think 
 
m 
 
 he might have added, that if the torch 
 of religion guides us, it is as an assistant 
 to, and not as a substitute for our 
 reason ;* for to that the appeal is made, 
 when the " faith," for which we are to 
 give a " reason," is required of us. 
 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 "Rouse Tibnr amem ventosus, Tibure Romam/ 1 
 Is one of Horace's confessions : and 
 the same sentiment seems to be ex- 
 pressed by some French author, who 
 says "nous ne sommes heureux que 
 la ou nous ne sommes pas." This coin- 
 cides with what Pope says, " Man never 
 is, but always to be blest." Indeed the 
 enjoyment of happiness seems to require 
 a permanency which, in a state in which 
 all things are fleeting and mutable, 
 cannot be attained. We therefore must 
 
 * Those only think the scriptures at variance with rea- 
 son who do not know how to make a right use of their 
 reason. 
 

 203 
 
 look forward to another state for the 
 enjoyment of "that peace which the 
 world cannot give," and which we pray 
 for in our liturgy. The sense of religion 
 with all its due accompaniments, will 
 give as much of it as can be obtained in 
 this world, to counteract and alleviate 
 the numerous obstacles which our search 
 after happiness meets with in it. If any 
 thing will give the <e aequus animus," 
 which, Horace says, will when possessed 
 make happiness (or at least as much of it 
 as is required for the " bene vivere") 
 attainable in any situation, and which, 
 he flattered himself he knew how <c pa- 
 rare sibi," it is this sense of religion. 
 
 CXL. 
 
 " Felices ter et amplius 
 Quos irrupta tenet Copula, nee malis 
 
 Divulsus Querimoniis 
 Supreraa citius sol vet amor die." 
 
204 
 
 The rogue Horace knew how to 
 preach, however he might practice* 
 Satirist as he was, and licentious as (in 
 some degree at least) he acknowledges 
 himself to be, that he was both an ami- 
 able and a moral Poet, his works suffi- 
 ciently testify. Devoutly religious he 
 was not; but that he knew how " vene- 
 rari Deos" his ode " Parcus Deorum 
 cultor et infrequens insanientis dum'sa- 
 pientiae consultus erro, nunc relvorsum" 
 &c. &c. is some proof of. 
 
 As a poet, Persius has well described 
 him. 
 
 is Omne vafer vitium ridenttFlaccus amico 
 Tangit, et admissus circum preecordia ludit.'* 
 
 In Horace shines complete the poet's art, 
 To captivate at once the head and heart.* 
 
 * In Horace we see quickness of perception, sublimity 
 of imagination, correctness of judgment, the most playful 
 and engaging familial ity, and the greatest happiness of 
 expression. Without entering deeply into, or dwelling 
 long on his subject, but passing rapidly from one to ano- 
 ther, he touches the most interesting parts of each, ad- 
 dressing himself " ridenti amico," (and what reader of 
 taste and feeling does he not make a smiling friend of?) 
 making himself feared only by those whose faults as-,. 
 

 205 
 
 CXLI, 
 
 u Ridetque, si mcrtales ultra 
 
 Fas trepidant." 
 
 What is the "ultra/as trepidare"? 
 
 CXLH. 
 
 What had Horace in view when be 
 wrote these two lines ? 
 
 "Nunc versus, et caetera ludicra pono 5 
 Condo et compono quae mox depromere possim.'' 
 
 Being " nullius addictus jurare in 
 verba magistri," he probably would not 
 
 follies expose them to the lash of his satire. He has 
 his inequalities, no doubt, and what genius has not ? His 
 bow is not always strung, but sometimes relaxed like 
 that of his own Apollo — " neque semper arcum tendit "— 
 But what strength and sublimity in his " Justum et tena- 
 cem propositi virum, &c. &c.— si fractus illabatur orbis, 
 impaviduin ferient ruinae." What neatness and elegance 
 (and ; I am afraid truth) in 'TEtas parentum, pejor avis, tulit 
 iios nequiores, mox daturos progeniem vitiosiorem." 
 These are striking instances of his " Curiosa felicitas ;*' 
 if indeed that gives him adequate praise, — " Qusesitam 
 meritis." 
 
have been a very good magister himself; 
 " quo me cunque rapit tempestas,* de- 
 feror hospes/' would have been but a 
 bad foundation for a system. 
 
 Good common sense, and acuteness 
 of intellect, may prevent us from being 
 led astray by others, but it may require 
 other helps to enable us to find the 
 right road. To chuse those helps pro- 
 perly, is therefore part (and the chief 
 part) of its province.f 
 
 Horace's " acumen ingenii" did the 
 first for him : but what induced him 
 "retrorsum vela dare?" Perhaps the 
 sol)er reasoning of advancing years. 
 
 CXL1II. 
 " Felices ter et amplius," #c. ste page 203. 
 When we read such sentiments, and 
 
 * Miall we construe " tempestas," the humour of the 
 moment ? 
 
 f And what better choice can it make than of the 
 Bible? 
 
m 
 
 so expressed/ as these ; when we read 
 other sentiments, expressed in a manner 
 equally worthy of their subjects, an d 
 those subjects higher and still more in- 
 teresting (though, after all, what can 
 more nearly touch the human heart, 
 what can more strongly excite its warm- 
 est feelings and expressions, than the 
 domestic* enjoyments of life ?) may we 
 not say, that the human faculties, when 
 well exercised, have something divine 
 in them ? Yes, yes.— In these and other 
 exhibitions of the best qualities of his 
 nature, man truly shews himself to be 
 made (as he is declared from a source 
 from which nothing but truth can pro- 
 
 * Burke is recorded to have said, that when he entered 
 his own house, and mixed with his family, " he left all his 
 cares behind him." He would not have said, nor have felt 
 tjiis, if he had not found at home an ample compensation 
 for all that troubled, and equivalent for all that interested 
 and engaged him in those cares. 
 So Akenside, in the Pleasures of Imagination, speaks of 
 
 ■ " The mild majesty of private life, 
 
 Where peace with ever-blooming olive crowns, 
 The gate, where honor's liberal hands # effuse 
 Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings 
 Of innocence and love protect the scene." 
 High as the colouring of poetry may be, the picture is 
 d rawn from nature . 
 
208 
 
 ceed, to have been made) in the " image" 
 of Iiis Creator. 
 
 But — " Felices ter et amplius."— O 
 Horace, did it never suggest itself to 
 you, that this felicity might be continued 
 even after the "suprema dies," or that 
 it might be changed for still higher en- 
 joyments? It might suggest itself ; but 
 you had no authority for that declara- 
 tion. You, perhaps, would have thought 
 that it would be considered only as the 
 flight of a poetical imagination, and 
 that it would rather weaken the effect 
 of that real Elysium of which the only 
 certitude could be upon earth, and 
 which your social and sympathetic feel- 
 ings made you wish to multiply the en- 
 joyment of, and to make the sense of it 
 an inmate of other bosoms than your 
 own. But your ideas of happiness, or 
 of compensation for the loss of it, could 
 go no farther :* you could do no more 
 
 * Horace could have no lively hope that the once rupta 
 copula would be restored, or lost iu the union of higher 
 
209 
 
 than lament with your friend Virgil, 
 the loss of Quinctilius, and make the 
 
 and more general felicity. He could only feel, that while 
 it was " irrupta,"it was far to be preferred to the violent 
 and transient enjoyments of " Lydia" and her " puer 
 furens," intermixed with the "immodicae mero rixae." 
 
 " Laetus in presens" (what ? with the " atra comes ?") 
 '* carpe diem," &c. are Horace's favorite maxims ; but 
 he does not omit that "Me potens sui, laetusque deget, 
 cui licet in diem Dixisse, vixi," &c. &c. — that the " mums 
 aheneus"is" nil conscire sibi, &c— These are his reliances, 
 or what he endeavours, (and justly) to make so. Thus 
 at least he appears as a poet, and we may hope was as a 
 man. For who that has read Horace does not feel in- 
 terested in what regards him ? who does not personally 
 associate him with the lines that give us so much both 
 of pleasure and instruction ?— " Delectando, pariterque 
 monendo." To whom is he not " admissus circum 
 prascordia?" 
 
 That Mascenas called him " dilecte," is a proof that he 
 was in his character what he appears in his writings. 
 
 Horace's immoralities seem to have partly resulted 
 from his own disposition, and partly from the manners of 
 the times in which he lived, and in which the lively and 
 ardent feelings of a genius like his had no restraint (or at 
 least not a sufficient one) to keep them within the bounds 
 of virtue and decency, at least what are now consi- 
 dered as such, since the promulgation of a religion which 
 lias, as strongly as justly, enjoined the observance of them. 
 But for the sincerity of the virtuous parts of his character 
 which balanced his vices, I think we may very fairly give 
 him credit, on account of the frankness with which he 
 speaks of both : of the latter, in his *' mille puellarum, 
 pueroruna mille furores"— the addresses of his servant 
 Davus to him, &c. &c— and of the former (his virtues and 
 other merits) he speaks in a manner that seems fully 
 authorised by his " surae superbiam quaesitam mentis." 
 In short, frankness and just feeling seem to have been the* 
 basis of his character, and to have shewn themselves in ail 
 his writings ; and his advice to his friend Quinctilius to 
 
 P 
 
210 
 
 ** levius fit patientia" your consola- 
 tion. You could only tell your friends 
 Postumus and Torquatus, the one 
 that " Linquenda telius, et domus, et 
 placens uxor ;" and say to the other, 
 " Non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, 
 non te restituet pietas'' — you could not 
 say what would become of the " Victima 
 nil miserantis orci," though your "splen- 
 dida Minos fecerit Arbitria" may seem 
 to indicate an expectation of retributive 
 justice in a future state : but for this you 
 had little more than poetical authority 
 and natural feeling, assisted, perhaps, 
 by some traditions, drawn from a better 
 source, though sullied with all the 
 
 corruptions ot Jragamsm. 
 
 _ I 
 
 — — — jp- 
 
 ■ 
 
 have been the rule of his own conduct — " reete \iris_, 
 si curas esse quodaudis." If he had been tried, he would, 
 perhaps, have realised his ''Laudo manentem ; siceleres 
 quatit perinas, resigno quae dedit, et raea virtute rae 
 inyolvo, probamque pauperiem sine dote quaere" 
 This would indeed have shewn him to he " potens sui." 
 I think, from what Horace has left us, we may presume 
 id hope that he would not he found the least entitled to 
 
 mere 
 own 
 
 :y, among those who were to be "judged by ihei^ 
 Mrs?* 1 
 
211 
 
 Replete, however, with corruptions, 
 as Paganism was, it admitted (in some 
 minds a { t least) an attention to the sen- 
 timents of reason and morality, of which 
 our votary of Bacchus and Venus, (to 
 say no worse of him) shews himself capa- 
 ble in various parts of his writings, and 
 must have evinced his sense of them in 
 his " Noctes Ccenaaque Deum," of which 
 any sensual rites could not well have 
 made a part. " Solutus legibusinsanis/' 
 as every guest was, even the " mero 
 caluisse virtus" could not have been 
 carried very far, as it would have dis- 
 abled them, for discussing the u quod 
 magis ad nos pertinet," and *' quae sit 
 natura boni, summumque quid ejus ;" 
 and for enjoying the (partial at least) 
 illustration of it in that most beautiful 
 tale of the two mice. 
 
 h ven in his amatory odes (as has 
 been shewn in a passage already quoted) 
 Horace now and then breaks out it* 
 purer and more re fi fief d selitiments/ of 
 P2 
 
212 
 
 which there appears some little tincture 
 in the last line of his dialogue with 
 Lydia ; " Tecum vivere amem, tecum 
 obeam libens." Horace's character in 
 short, was a mixture, as that of every 
 lively genius (as has been said before) 
 may be expected to be, of sentiment 
 and sensuality ; a mixture, for the 
 grosser parts of which there is no cor- 
 rective but religion ; and of all religions 
 that have been promulgated, that cor- 
 rective, with any degree of enforcement, 
 is only to be found in the Christian. 
 
 The " grata protervitas, et vultus 
 nimium lubricus aspiei" may be very 
 agreeable to a sensualist, and a refined 
 one too ; but the indulgence of the 
 pleasure they give (at least the sensual 
 indulgence) will not accord with the 
 dictates either of reason or religion. 
 The former, however, had probably but 
 little effect in restraining the <f proter- 
 vity" and " lubricity" of the Roman 
 beauties. Pride, indeed, might now and 
 
213 
 
 then do something towards it. But 
 what must have been the power that 
 " the love of pleasure, and the love of 
 sway" (their " ruling passions," if indeed 
 Pope's satire is of general application) 
 had over them. 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 What is it that constitutes our social 
 enjoyments in this world ? Is it not the 
 union of minds and interests, and our 
 mutual dependence upon each other ?* 
 
 * If to contemplate Divine excellence, in the ap- 
 proaches that humanity is capable of making towards it, 
 and to cherish the hopes of happiness, on the grounds on 
 which that hope rests, are the highest and purest enjoy- 
 ments (as they surely are) that we can have on earth ; the 
 perfection of those enjoyments, and the consummation of 
 that hope, in a bliss which all the "communion of 
 saints" fof blessed spirits) will join in partaking of, must 
 as surely constitute the joys of heaven. 
 
 '•' What future bliss he gives thee not to know, 
 But gives that hope to be thy blessing now." 
 
 (Pope.) 
 . What better association of minds can there be, than in 
 their having the same supreme object of attention, and the 
 same source, of enjoyment, with fulness of power to par- 
 
214 
 
 In a future state the two first may re- 
 main, and be carried to a much greater 
 degree of elevation; the last will be 
 done away, and exchanged for a far 
 higher and surer refuge ; a refuge pro- 
 mised to those who seek it, and who 
 fulfil the conditions attached to the 
 promise of it. 
 
 Northbrooke, April 4, 1821 . 
 
 But is it not strange, that our doubts 
 and uncertainties respecting the manner 
 
 take of it ? and therefore what higher idea can we form of 
 the communion of the blest in heaven ? and when those 
 that we love are taken from this world and from US; we 
 ought to consider that it is but for a time that we are 
 left here alone—** so soon to follow." 
 
 * Turn, hopeless thought, turn from her."— 
 
 Yet why hopeless ? — Yes — as to earthly hopes— hut 
 what are they, when compared to the hopes which both 
 reason and religion hold out to us ? It should seem, 
 indeed, as if the thoughts had not then matured themselves 
 in the poet's mind, which he afterwards (or eWevyhere) 
 expresses in such triumphant and unrivalled strains.. — No, 
 Young, I do not believe that if Pope had gone on, to sing 
 " immortal man" he would have "blest mankind" so 
 much as you have done : his ** wing of fire" would not 
 have carried him so high as you have " soared" (not 
 "sunk") with yours.-^-So high ! No ; for you have soared 
 Ckrjsto ." duce, et auspice" Christo. . 
 
 Young speaks of some writer*— or readers, no matter 
 vhlchr-whq had "" quite forgotten half their bible'* 
 |)iai9e," meaning its poetry. He had not forgotten 4 it — 
 for it inspired him. 
 
215 
 
 in which a future retribution will take 
 place, should beget in us any doubt of 
 the fact* itself? Yet so I am afraid it 
 often is : our wish to know more than 
 we can, or than we ought to wish to 
 know, seems to take from us the dispo- 
 sition to make a proper use of the know- 
 ledge we have. 
 
 ... 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 One great wish of humanity is for 
 rest ; but a still greater for extension 
 
 — , _ . ,. 
 
 • That the " fact" is certain, all the arguments that can 
 be drawn from reason, powerfully as they are enforced in 
 the " Night Thoughts/' and above ali, as they are sanc- 
 tioned by the sacred writings, conspire to prove: that the 
 "manner" is hid from us, further than a revelation of it 
 is necessary to give the proper excitement to our hopes 
 and fears, may be as reasonably accounted for. A higher 
 knowledge would place us on a higher tribunal. 
 
 "All, all is right, by God ordained, or done ; 
 
 And who, but God, resumed the friends he gave?" ' 
 
 f * *"'•.'*,'" ''* f • 
 
 "Who, without pain's advice, would e'er be good t 
 Who, without death, but would be good in vain ?" 
 
 (Night Thoughts, '^gtb 9., 
 " ■ ,.. ■ W'hatthotigh the oickk% sometimes .liccn, " ' 
 Just scars us as .wc reap the golden grain ? r , 
 More than thy balm, Ot-ijead, heals the >vouud:" '' 
 
 (Ibid,h%fitt:) 
 
216 
 
 of knowledge and enjoyment. In a 
 future state these may be united ; peace* 
 of mind, with a fuller exercise of its 
 powers ; and all centered in one great 
 Object. 
 
 But must we not return to the senti- 
 ment of the < Night Thoughts?" 
 
 ei Too great the bounty seems for earthly joy : 
 What heart but trembles at so strange a bliss ?" 
 
 Even our hopes of happiness must be 
 accompanied with an awful dread : and 
 well they may, mysterious as are both 
 the nature of that happiness and our 
 prospect of obtaining it. 
 
 With what then must " our salvation 
 be worked out," but " with fear and 
 trembling ?" 
 
 Is our pride offended at these terms I 
 well then, we must seek our resource in 
 insensibility — in hardness of heart — no, 
 — in fortitude — but Christian fortitude : 
 
 * A peace of mind which " this world cannot give!" — 
 Alas then, ye quietists." 
 
217 
 
 — but what is it that entirely ie casteth 
 out fear ?" Are we not told it is "per- 
 fect love Vi — Where is this to be found? 
 In the enthusiastic ideas of the Me- 
 thodists, &c. ? — Ah, no. Where then ? 
 What more can designate an angel ?* 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 In considering the question put to our 
 blessed Saviour by some of the Jews, viz; 
 "to which of the seven husbands,of whom 
 a woman had been successively the 
 wife, she was to belong in heaven," we 
 cannot, I think, but admire the patient 
 condescension with which he gives them 
 the information contained in his answer. 
 The censure, however, which we are 
 inclined to throw upon their apparently 
 
 * Man's love of God is best shewn in " keeping his 
 commandmentsrto do them." In that, he is as "perfealy 
 loved, and worthily magnified," as he can be by us, his 
 creatures. And for that, humility w (true humility, iu 
 accord with reason) is required. 
 
£18 
 
 foolish and impertinent curiosity, would 
 in all probability have reverted upon 
 ourselves, if we had not had the glorious 
 light of the Gospel to guide us; with- 
 out that, a Plato indeed might in his 
 closet, or in the porch of the academy, 
 have marked, and almost measured, the 
 space that separates spiritual from tem- 
 poral interests and concerns ; and minds 
 congenial to his would have hailed the 
 discovery with applause ; but those of a 
 less elevated cast would have considered 
 it as a dream: the Christian revelation 
 therefore was wanted (and blessed be 
 the source from which that want has been 
 supplied) to enable the humblest and 
 lowest stages of human intellect to rise 
 upon the wings of faith (of faith sanc- 
 tioned by reason) to those heights to 
 which, before, it required the genius of 
 a Plato to soar. 
 
 • ■ 
 
 i 
 
 : 
 
219 
 
 . ■- 
 
 CXLVI. 
 
 " Decipiuntne" etiam, haec omnia 
 visibilia? decipiunt sane; sed " noit 
 decipiunt invisibilia." 
 
 Young's idea is strengthened by the 
 allowed truth, that many sensible ob- 
 jects(as colours, &c.) are, however agree- 
 able they maybe to us, only illusions, that 
 is, effects upon our organs ; what then 
 must real ones (" invisibilia 1 ') be ?* 
 and surely something must be real. 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 "In meipso totus teres atque rotundus, 
 
 Externi ne quidvaleat per'lseve morari." 
 
 - 
 
 * We are so afraid of indulging chimerical ideas, or 
 rather perhaps so influenced by other and less harmless 
 motives, that we do not always consult our reason to 
 know how far the suggestions of our senses and our 
 passions may mislead us. 
 
220 
 
 That is, of any thing that 1 may see 
 or hear, to induce me to change the sen- 
 timents 1 can justify to myself. 
 
 Northbrook, May 8, 1821. 
 
 Ad Londiniuin iturus scripsit.— W. D. 
 
 Direct me, I beseech thee, O Lord, 
 direct me in all my goings; and what- 
 ever protection T may want, either from 
 others or from myself, afford it to me ! 
 
 What is to happen, what is to endure, 
 willbeasit pleases God to ordain: if 
 what we wish does not do either of these, 
 soumeltons nous. 
 
 CLXV1II. 
 
 Amongst our enjoyments here may be 
 reckoned (what perhaps at first has a 
 contrary appearance) that of unsatisfied 
 and unsatisfiable curiosity, which keeps 
 alive all our faculties of enjoyment. I 
 think that without being chimerical, we 
 may suppose the case of celestial beings 
 
221 
 
 to be somewhat similar to ours, and this 
 idea I would support by instancing the 
 text of scripture, which calls our re- 
 demption by our blessed Saviour a 
 mystery which " the angels themselves 
 desire to look into;" this surely implies 
 unsatisfied curiosity, the effect of which 
 may be the same as those above-men- 
 tioned. 
 
 Has not this some plausibility at least ? 
 
 CXLIX 
 
 Analogical reasoning can only be 
 deceptive when the analogy is imaginary 
 and not real ; and this distinction may, 
 1 believe, be made. 
 
 Young calls analogy " man's surest 
 guide below, 1 ' I rather think it is the 
 only guide he has ; for we can only 
 judge from comparison ; and in making 
 a comparison, we are placed between 
 the extremes of analogy so close as 
 
almost to amount to absolute identity, 
 which can leave no room for a doubtful 
 conclusion ; and an analogy so remote 
 as to leave little similitude between the 
 objects but what must exist between any 
 two whatever, as there can be no terres- 
 trial objects that are dissimilar to each in 
 all points. Between these two extremes, 
 there are numberless degrees of simili- 
 tude, each of which affects the observer 
 more or less according to his turn of 
 mind ; at any rate an increase in the 
 number of those that apply to the objects^ 
 whatever their individual force may be, 
 must give them an increase of weight. 
 I am not prepared to illustrate this by 
 any instance, so I must leave it to the 
 sagacity of my reader, if I have given 
 him information enough to exercise it. 
 
 CL. 
 
 What are we told, what are we not 
 told, when)we read that "God is love ?'° 
 
223 
 
 - . 
 
 CLI. 
 
 The result of thought must be the 
 investigation of it. How else would 
 "second thoughts be best?" 
 ■ 
 
 fe 
 
 ■ obujr 
 CLI I. 
 
 Our feelings are given us, and if we 
 can justify them by our reason, we may 
 be pretty sure that they will not prove 
 detrimental, either to others or to our- 
 selves. 
 
 CLI1I. 
 
 Can the mind which has ideas want 
 resources in itself? No, while it has 
 these ideas, with the power of reducing 
 them into shape by words (expressing 
 them) it cannot. 
 
224 
 
 CLIV. 
 
 " How weary, stale, flat, and unpro- 
 fitable to me are all/' &c. No, they are 
 not so, say second thoughts. There are 
 many that may be more than enjoyed. 
 
 CLV. 
 Surely Rousseau could not think that 
 
 his making his shameful" confessions" 
 
 to men, was a substitute for making 
 
 them to his God ? or that the former 
 
 was a necessary addition to the latter? 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 How late do we learn many of per- 
 haps the most useful truths ? Yes, we 
 may well '" learn through life." 
 
225 
 
 CLVir. 
 
 Those who think, should write for 
 those who do not. 
 
 CLViir. 
 
 How often, in our most serious mo- 
 ments, may we have to acknowledge tiie 
 truth of Pope's line, ** and not a vanity 
 is given in vain." I almost wish that L 
 could put confidence enough in my 
 reader to disclose to him the feeling that 
 suggested this quotation, and the appli- 
 cation of it. He will at least give me 
 credit for not having reason to be 
 ashamed of it. Shall I say that my 
 work will speak for me ? — at least it will 
 not condemn me. I shall not be con- 
 victed, either out of my own mouth, 
 nor from my own pen. The secret then 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 must he kept for my own private 
 
 friends. 
 
 nsifi 
 
 • 929f 
 
 CLIX. 
 
 When we say that a man does things 
 like nobody else, we speak hyperboli- 
 cally ; for every thing must have been 
 done by somebody ; otherwise the pro- 
 verb would not be true, that <f there is 
 is nothing new under the sun." 
 
 CLX. 
 
 Dare I say that I would not resign 
 her, even to my God ? O ! no, I dare 
 not : but if I was told by him, that she 
 would be transferred to the enjoyment 
 of unspeakable happiness, should I not 
 say, ft may not this be deferred ?" If 
 the answer was " no," what should I 
 say ? " Take her, take her ;" and leave 
 
227 
 
 me the most miserable wretch on earth, 
 rather than she should be deprived 
 of -These trials have been made. 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 The fulness of .the heart 'fills the 
 head, and thus one overflows into the 
 other, and is discharged either by the 
 mouth or pen. 
 
 CLX1I. 
 
 Whoever feels strongly cannot write 
 weakly. 
 
 ,; 
 
 ■3dl ©J 
 
 mm 
 
 When the Apostle Thomas was called 
 upon by our arisen Saviour, the glorious 
 victor of sin and death, to " reach forth 
 Q2 
 
his hand, and to feel the wound in 
 his side,* and the print of the nails in 
 his hands and feet," could he, after he 
 had done this, could he possibly do less 
 than cry out, ' e my Lord and my God?" 
 and could he receive a more gentle, and 
 at the same time a more forcible re- 
 proof from his gracious, his divine 
 Master, than ei Thomas, because thou 
 hast seen, thou hast believed ; blessed 
 are they who have not seen, and yet 
 have believed ?" believed, because 
 though they had uot had those over- 
 powering proofs that were afforded to 
 St. Thomas, they had seen and heard 
 what was amply sufficient to do every 
 thing but force their belief. My readers 
 will see why this ought not to be done, 
 and they will also see for and to whom 
 this was meant and addressed; and their 
 hearts will not be hardened. 
 
 * Are these " interpolations'' too, ye wretched infidels ? 
 
229 
 
 CLXIV. 
 
 Young says {can he be too often or 
 too repeatedly quoted ?) speaking of the 
 pangs of death, 
 
 I. a 
 
 What tho'the sickle, sometimes ke3n, 
 Just scars us as we reap the golden grain ? 
 More than thy balm, O Gilead, heals the wound." 
 
 What say ye to this, ye worldlings? 
 Is this gloomy ? 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 Henceforth, says St. Paul, let no 
 man trouble me ; for I bear in my body 
 the marks of Christ Jesus. May not 
 every man, even in these our times, who 
 is a thorough believer, say the same ? 
 For thenceforth nothing will, or can 
 trouble him. 
 
230 
 
 ==» 
 
 i 
 
 clxvl 
 
 We pray to thee, O Christ, with the 
 Father and the Holy Ghost : for what 
 works didst thou perform! what a life 
 didst thou lead! and what an end didst 
 thou suffer! an end, followed by an as- 
 sured resurrection. And could thy mis- 
 sion be less than from God ? could thy 
 nature be less than divine? O!no. — 
 Confounding as it is to all our ideas, it 
 must be so ; without the evidence in 
 favour of it we could not receive it; 
 with it (O read and weigh the scriptures 
 ye who doubt !) we must. For the rest, 
 if we have any feelings, let them dictate 
 it to us. 
 
 CLXVII. 
 
 The very frivolous objections 4nade 
 by Thomas Paine and others like him, 
 
231 
 
 against the passage in St. Paul, which 
 says, that " the grain is not quickened 
 unless it die," may be easily answered 
 by shewing that in analogies, a close 
 similitude (or parallelism) is not re- 
 quired, but only a general or partial one, 
 which in this case exists ; for though the 
 grain in fact dies, as to change of form 
 and substance, so does the body, but 
 a germ, a precious germ, is preserved, 
 which will maintain its existence in a 
 future state, not indeed like the plant, 
 to run the circle of growth and decay 
 in endless repetitions, but to flourish in 
 that lasting perfection to which its past 
 qualities and its use of them, may, 
 through the mercies of God, and the 
 mediation of our blessed Saviour, entitle 
 it. 
 
 CLXVIII. 
 
 Sukely it cannot be a necessary con- 
 sequence of much thinking, to unfit the 
 
232 
 
 mind for the enjoyment of, and partici- 
 pation in, the common intercourse of 
 society : it may indeed for the frivolous 
 part of it, which passes lightly from one^ 
 subject to another, without dwelling 
 upon any, or at least any that deserves 
 to be dwelt upon. However there is 
 always some importance attached to the 
 " quicquid agunt homines." 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 O Sun, sun, how chearful, how all- 
 cheering are thy beams ! which now 
 strike through my window ; and 1 hail 
 them with a more than friendly voice 
 — a voice of love, of gratitude, of every 
 thing short of adoration. And O ye, 
 whose participation, whose sympathy, I 
 most desire — and whose desire 1 not? 
 — &c. 
 
 Harcoutt-bouse, May 12, 1821. 
 Hora sexta, A. M. 
 
233 
 
 CLXX. 
 
 ! 
 Shall I say that I wish to indulge 
 
 feelings to be envied by those who have 
 
 them not f Have them not I Insolent 
 
 egotist! Who has them not? Alas, 
 
 however, there are other feelings, other 
 
 passions that obstruct them S 
 
 CLXXI. 
 
 Whoever loves one sex cannot hate 
 the other. — Hate ! has God made us to 
 hate one another ? If thou wilt hate, 
 begin with thyself. 
 
 
 %%®skm bj 
 CLXXII. 
 
 Yes, she is pleasing, very pleasing ; 
 her countenance, voice, and manner, are 
 
234 
 
 indicative of her character, and are all 
 highly engaging and estimable : she is 
 not in the first bloom of youth, to be 
 sure, but — first bloom of youth ! and in 
 what state of maturity are you ? Would 
 you be eating peaches and nectarines 
 all the year round ? Let your food be 
 
 mental. 
 
 - 
 
 CLXXIII. 
 
 " Mind, mind alone, bear witness Earth and Heaven ! 
 The living fountains in itself contains 
 Of beauteous and sublime." 
 
 And it must be so ; for all beauty of 
 form, the charming characteristic of the 
 female sex, and indeed of the male too, 
 for the human face is divine, should be 
 but the external sign of the superior 
 beauty that reigns within. For this, 
 we attach ideas of character to each 
 feature, or association of features ; for 
 this we represent angels as clothed in all 
 
235 
 
 that is expressive of purity/benevolence, 
 and dignity ; and from this results the 
 impossibility, as I have always thought, 
 of giving to the countenance of our bles- 
 sed Saviour that union of all the virtues, 
 carried to the divinest perfection/ that 
 must have been displayed in it. But to 
 descend from these heights ; even in 
 the animal creation, we seek for cha- 
 racter in the form and appearance of the 
 face, if face it may universally be called; 
 mildness or ferocity, cunning and saga- 
 city, or simplicity and folly, &g. ; and in 
 the proofs we find of these, we also find 
 our reasons for entertaining sentiments 
 of partiality for, or dislike of, the 
 creatures that exhibit them : and even 
 in the consistent demonstration of the 
 least amiable qualities (except those 
 which excite our horror) we tind motives 
 for some degree of interest and esteem. 
 Thus it is that mind, and the perma- 
 nency of its action, has the most powerful 
 influence over our opinions and a (Tec- 
 
236 
 
 tions; and through this medium we look 
 up, as Plato did, to cc the first good, first 
 perfect, and first fair ; drawing from 
 thence our hopes and expectations of 
 future powers of contemplating it, when 
 the veil of mortality which now obscures 
 our mental sight, shall be removed, and 
 the clearness with which we shall then 
 ' c see and be seen," shall shine in its full 
 splendor for evermore. 
 
 CLXXIV. 
 
 I cannot help hoping that some ideas 
 expressed in this book, will justify the 
 others : at least I persuade myself that 
 no jn consistency will be found in them : 
 nothing to cast the imputation on the 
 writer of being at war with himself. If 
 this be so, will it not justify this address 
 to my readers ? If at any time you think 
 that your ideas become more elevated, 
 which they will certainly do in propor- 
 
237 
 
 tion as they are more just, then, 
 
 "Pursue their flight, and let it lead to heaven. 
 
 CLXXV. 
 
 Shall I say, that it is no matter from 
 what fount we draw our inspiration, 
 provided its stream be pure ? Surely I 
 may say it; for there is but one fount 
 to which purity may be traced, from 
 which it can emanate, or with which it 
 can be connected. Indulge then in co- 
 pious draughts; swell as they may your 
 heart, and flow from your pen. 
 
 CLXXVI. 
 
 On ne sent ses propres forces, qu'en 
 
 en faisant usa^e.* 
 
 My reader's candour will find me excuses for these 
 occasional insertions of French ; and if he likes the lan- 
 guage as well as 1 do (at least in prose) he will find more 
 than excuses. 
 
238 
 - uo gaixn v 
 
 CLXXVJI. 
 
 What is it that forms public opinion ? 
 Is there such a thing as common sense ? 
 It is not common however; but it must 
 be possessed. Something impedes the 
 use of it : what is this something? — the 
 passions ? — prejudice ? — human weak- 
 ess? Compatissons la, done : truth, how- 
 ever, makes its way. Talk and act (to a 
 certain degree) with the world, and 
 think for ourselves ; but let not our part 
 be a double one. 
 
 —55— 
 
 CLXXVIII. 
 
 Expressing sentiments in a sort of 
 familiar way, descending almost to 
 coarseness, seems to fix the attention 
 and induce intelligence. The familiarity 
 begins by making us suppose we must 
 
239 
 
 understand the subject it relates to, and 
 by fixing our attention makes us really 
 understand it. We think it would be a 
 shame for us not to understand the 
 whole of what we can so easily under- 
 stand a part of. (See one of Mr. Burke's 
 speeches, in which be uses the phrase, 
 " neither fish, flesh, nor good red 
 herring.") However, other reasons may 
 be given for this effect on our minds. 
 
 CLXXIX. 
 
 ft "s«vyr 
 
 Another week is begun ; what will 
 happen to me in the course of it? Good? 
 Ill ? If good, make me thankful for it : 
 if ill, make me submissively acquiescent 
 in it. And you, my good friend, what 
 have you to expect? I think neither 
 good nor ill ; for you seem to swim, like 
 many others, on the placid stream of in- 
 difference. And yet how necessary is it, 
 to prevent this from deteriorating into 
 
240 
 
 intolerable stagnation, that we should 
 create an interest for ourselves out of 
 any trifles that may lay in our way. Well 
 does Young say " Life's cares are com- 
 forts }" and well is it that our passions 
 have the power of affording those com- 
 forts to themselves ; of providing their 
 own aliment ; under the controul of 
 Reason, however, for without her they 
 are wretched caterers; and what has 
 Reason to guide her ? What has she not, 
 to exalt her rod of controul into a torch 
 of fire, that points and lights the way to 
 the source from which all the ardour 
 flows that impels her on her glorious 
 course ? The coal that was laid on Isaiah's 
 lips (I speak with reverence) did not 
 raise the warmth of his feelings to a more 
 inspiring flame, nor cany him to higher 
 regions of prophetic inspiration, than 
 our reason, refined and exalted by its 
 own fervency, and purified by the Divine 
 Spirit that gave it birth, and now gives 
 it action, carries us into the contempla- 
 
241 
 
 tion of objects that are not of mortal, 
 but of spiritual and celestial mould. 
 Then let her take her fill of inspiration, 
 freed from all danger of being bewil- 
 dered by the ignis fatuus that the victims 
 of their own foolish fancies have mis- 
 taken for the fire that illumes her, and 
 by all the obscure and mis-shapen forms 
 that their wayward and ill-directed 
 imaginations have held up to their own 
 admiration and that of the foolish dupes 
 who have been fascinated by them. 
 These will all vanish before the sacred 
 lights of reason and real genius. 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 The full measure of possible perfec- 
 tion is probably filled up in nature, as 
 being the necessary result of omnipotent 
 agency, put in action by consummate 
 wisdom and benevolence ; therefore, if 
 
 we have an idea of any thing being 
 R 
 
242 
 
 wanting to fill it up here, it is probably 
 realised somewhere else ; as in music 
 (so capable of exciting celestial feelings), 
 poetry, &c. Painting I should be in- 
 clined to except,, as reality there* must 
 succeed to representation. The sensa- 
 tions excited by the others I think we 
 may supppose, from a fair analogy, to be 
 continued and perfected in another state. 
 Mental pleasure is surely the object 
 of creative power (and is it not our 
 highest enjoyment here ?); and we can- 
 not suppose any limit to the exercise of 
 it. 
 
 CLXXXf, 
 
 It is very odd that we should seek to 
 make a proposition more intelligible 
 by abstracting it from all the means we 
 have of intelligence, and by removing a 
 difficulty out of our mental sight, to put 
 
 * In a future world. 
 
243 
 
 an end to its existence as such ; for so 
 it seems to be in metaphysical reasoning 
 at least in that which would substitute 
 the imaginary (though in fact unimagi- 
 nable) beings of Fate, Chance, or Neces- 
 sity, in lieu of an intelligent and all- 
 efficient Cause. By this, all reasoning 
 from analogy is precluded ; and why ? 
 because we find that analogy does 
 not give us the means of intelligence 
 that our insatiable curiosity requires : 
 and so we take away all the ground that 
 our evidence can stand upon; at least 
 if, as Young says, "analogy is man's 
 surest guide below :" and this ground 
 being removed, the mind having no 
 other to rest upon, gradually ceases to 
 receive what wants the support which 
 its own nature requires things should 
 have, to induce its acquiescence in them. 
 We seek to make our belief of meta- 
 physical truths (for such surely is the 
 existence of a Supreme Being) a matter 
 of mere habit, without connecting it 
 R2 
 
244 
 
 with any thing that may be necessary to 
 substantiate it, and to give it a firm hold 
 on our minds. The Deist may fancy 
 he does this, by merely referring to the 
 existence of order, and the consequent 
 necessity of intelligent agency ; but we 
 want other analogies to fix us in that 
 belief which requires the concurrence 
 of our reason and our feelings to give 
 it permanency and consistency in our 
 minds ; for otherwise it may (and per- 
 haps must) be only the loose belief (if 
 theirs deserved the name) that the King 
 of Prussia, and Voltaire, and others like 
 them, had, and which was shaken by 
 every Intervention of difficulty or doubt. 
 Othen, let us trust to the supports which 
 have been given us, and which we could 
 neither acquire, nor compensate the 
 want of, by any sentiments of our own. 
 
 Reception and attachment must be 
 founded on intelligence and agreement, 
 (agreement of head and heart) : so it is 
 in human things, and so it is in divine. 
 

 245 
 
 Ah ! there are other means of inducing 
 and fixing attachment, than those (gross 
 and unsentimental as they are) which 
 commonly influence our minds ; means 
 too of superior power and energy : true, 
 it requires a disposition to be influenced 
 by them; but when these means are 
 had in view, that disposition has been 
 previously observed ; and have I not 
 observed it ? 
 
 CLXXXII. 
 
 Good God ! that we should be obdu- 
 rately deaf to all the persuasions that we 
 can hear, because we hear not those we 
 cannot hear ! 
 
 CLXXXIII. 
 
 O how you surprise, how you asto- 
 nish me."— Yes, you sweet creature, you 
 
246 
 
 was surprised and astonished ; and your 
 being so, and your manner of expressing 
 it, prove alike what you are. And 
 shall [ not trust to nature, and nature in 
 such a garb ? O yes, my sweetest Anne, 
 I will doubt no longer, but will impli- 
 citly belie ve, and firmly and invariably 
 attach myself.* 
 
 Ah Anne, Anne, vous voyez bien que 
 je me suis jette a vos pieds, et vous serez 
 trop genereuse pour abuser du pouvoir 
 que vous avez acquis sur moi : vous le 
 meritez, j'en suis persuade, et mon 
 instinct (car c'est bien lui qui m'a 
 pousse en avant) ne m'aura pas trompe. 
 Et vous, pardonnez, cbere ombre de ma 
 femme, si votre image s'est trop tot 
 remplace dans mon cceur parun objet 
 qui, j'espere, en sera digne. 
 
 * Ask you, O reader, why this was inserted ? It concerns 
 not you, to be sure; but will not a general excuse be 
 found in Love ? Surely you have felt its power, and that 
 where Love claims the heart, it bears no rival there. — 
 May it be a source ot thankfulness in me ! and may at 
 least the feelings excited by it be not incompatible with 
 those which religion ought to excite ! 
 
247 
 
 And thou, O God, who hast given 
 me these feelings, direct them, I beseech 
 thee, to their proper end ! 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 
 
 The world, the feeling part of it at 
 least, will understand how sentiments 
 mix themselves in the mind, how they 
 urge each other on, how the sense of a 
 want is increased by personal and still 
 more by mental recollections, and how, 
 when a void is left in the heart, it must 
 be filled up by a living object. No, I 
 will not say that, neither; the urn and 
 its ashes may suffice, and all that Aken- 
 side describes may be felt, and raptu- 
 rously felt : but when an object presents 
 itself, similar in external form, and still 
 more so in mind, the sentiment may still 
 subsist, while the object is changed. 
 
 The remembrance is not lost when 
 the affection is thus transferred ; one re- 
 
248 
 
 cals the other ; for feelings arising from 
 the same source must associate them- 
 selves in the mind. The man who has 
 lost one friend and gained another, says, 
 " I have given one friend to heaven, 
 and heaven has given another to me, 
 and I am grateful for both." From 
 the same source we derive both the 
 satisfaction and the consolation : both 
 indeed in one ; for what but satisfaction 
 can arise from looking to that source 
 from which both must flow ? 
 
 But, O God ! if the gentlest virtues — 
 if the truest piety — if the most amiable 
 display of both during a life the decline 
 of which was marked with all the trials 
 which decaying health could impose — 
 if these can entitle the possessor, the 
 displayer of them — the sufferer — to an 
 abode with thee, she is surely blessed in 
 that abode ; and that she is so blessed, 
 neither the best dictates of our reason 
 and our feelings, nor all the enforce- 
 ments of them in the unanswerable ar- 
 
249 
 
 guments -of -the Night Thoughts, nor the 
 still more powerful as more authoritative 
 declarations of the sacred writings, per- 
 mit us to doubt. 
 
 Therefore let me venture to offer up 
 this prayer; — I beseech thee, OLord, to 
 favour the cause I have in view ; to 
 bring it to a happy issue, and to make it, 
 finally, the means of an infinitely hap- 
 pier issue succeeding it, in an union of 
 everlasting felicity, where u there is no 
 marrying, or giving in marriage," but 
 where all the spirits of the blest are 
 united in the eternal praises of their 
 Creator. 
 
 To thee, O world, "nostrorum, sermo- 
 num candide judex," I address these 
 disclosures; aware, indeed, how little 
 claim they have to attention more than 
 those of any other insignificant indivi- 
 dual, to whom, however, justice will be 
 done where it is due, and the opinion of 
 the world will do it. 1 have said that 
 sentiments may be allowed to mix them- 
 
250 
 
 selves in the mind ; but they must not 
 press too closely on each other in action ; 
 especially when worse motives may in- 
 duce to that action, under the disguise 
 of the better. It is necessary to the best 
 interest of society, qu'elle neprennepas 
 le change : but an allowance may surely 
 be made, as in judicial proceedings, for 
 character, when a deviation (not carried 
 too far) from the common customs of 
 society demands it. 
 
 CLXXXV. 
 
 A final settlement seems to be re- 
 quired ; but why it is required, that is., 
 from what cause an unsettled state of 
 things derives its existence, who can 
 tell ? But the will of God is, must be, 
 supreme; and whatever imperfections 
 there are, exist, it should seem, in his 
 works. But are they imperfections, 
 which we deem such ? Is not the exis- 
 
251 
 
 tence of evil, one ? or is its existence 
 necessary to that of its opposite, good ? 
 or is all our reasoning erroneous, because 
 limited? If so, then well may these 
 mysteries be inscrutable by us, and au- 
 dacious is our curiosity that attempts to 
 penetrate them. 
 
 CLXXVI. 
 
 How admirable is that sentence of 
 Terence, " Homo sum, nihil humani a 
 me alienum puto!" as levelling all the 
 distinctions of society into one common 
 description of man; for if " nihil humani 
 alienum," then omne humani proprium, 
 and as such entitling him to all the at- 
 tention and good will we can bestow; 
 as Young says " proprietors eternal of 
 our love." The next step is, the gen- 
 tleman, a description also confined to no 
 rank, but extending to all who have the 
 sentiments, with some correspondency 
 
252 
 
 of manner, that belong to it. These 
 exalt the man into the gentleman, and 
 the Christian ; these are what Pope had 
 in view in his " worth makes the man/' 
 &c. (which, by the bye, is a paraphrase 
 on his "an honest man's the noblest 
 work of God"), and these bring indi- 
 viduals together on the firm ground of 
 confidence, respect, and good will ; not 
 of familiarity, for respect to ourselves 
 and to others forbids that, unless in the 
 common intercourse of society among 
 equals in rank or in habits of acquain- 
 tance, and where there are no higher 
 objects in view than the ordinary busi- 
 ness of life. When two persons meet as 
 men (on the ground above-mentioned) 
 a third is present, whose awful controul 
 gives a far more solemn importance to 
 their addresses to each other; and with 
 that importance, an interest which will 
 engross every affection of the heart, if it 
 be a feeling one. 
 
253 
 
 CLXXXVII. 
 
 Habits of attention to particular ob- 
 jects will, of course, engross the mind) 
 and sometimes will prevent it from at- 
 tending to others that are connected 
 with them ; as T have found in matters 
 relating to literary composition, in which 
 the compositor (for so I think the di- 
 rectors of the press are called) in his 
 direction, paid a particular attention to 
 the grammatical and ordinary construc- 
 tion of a passage, but at the ex pence of 
 the effect intended by the writer, and 
 even of all meaning whatever : so that 
 (what is curious enough) an attention 
 (ill-directed indeed) to the means, was 
 preventive of the attainment of its end.* 
 
 * To illustrate this, see No. 130, where the compositor 
 had contrived to substitute an ending with a full period 
 ("began.") in lieu of the abrupt conclusion which leaves 
 the reader to continue and finish it : the effect of which he 
 will judge of, 
 
254 
 
 CLXXXVI1I. 
 
 What ? Is " How the heart trembles 
 at so strange a bliss !" to be instanced in 
 human prospects, as well as the divine 
 ones that Young had in view ? If it is, it 
 must be from some similarity of senti- 
 ment, and similarity there surely is, 
 when the sentiment is such as is des- 
 cribed in No. 40, and in the latter part 
 of No. 70. It has a corporeal mixture 
 to be sure, but how refined by the 
 "certain strainers" that exalt the feel- 
 ings to — -what? — O Love, Love, thou 
 alone canst tell ! And whither would thy 
 
 influence carry me?- No, I will not 
 
 abuse the patience of my reader. 
 
 CLXXXIX. 
 
 tc Liber ibis id urhem." 
 
 Whether to meet with circulation 
 
255 
 
 there, I know not. The addition of 
 "nee invideo sine me," neither the 
 circumstances I am placed in, nor my 
 inclination or intention, at least beyond 
 a certain degree, would justify, as I have 
 neither the right, nor the wish, to com- 
 pare myself with Ovid. But my reader 
 will say, " what is the book a <e reme- 
 dium for ?" — O, for many things, reader, 
 if you apply it to your own case, and if 
 your case demands it. And first for 
 ignorance. — What? when it begins with 
 a confession of that? — Well, and is not 
 the sense of ignorance one of our best 
 acquirements? For melancholy. What? 
 with all its gloom and dullness, made 
 worse by quotations from the Night 
 Thoughts? — I fear, O reader, you have 
 not read it with attention. 
 
 CXC. 
 The interest we take in any object, 
 depends as well on our regard for it, as 
 
256 
 
 upon the constitution of our minds. 
 Some people carry this to a great de- 
 gree of minuteness, perhaps at the ex- 
 pence of attention to things of greater 
 consequence ; for instance, what real 
 interest can attach itself to what has so 
 much of the " nunc mihi nunc alii" be- 
 longing to it, as the house that a man, 
 let him be as great or as interesting as 
 he will, lived in, and that Dick, Tom, 
 Harry, &c. &c. have lived in since ? 
 The same takes place in the illustrations 
 of places mentioned in Cowper's poems, 
 &c. which have often nothing to recom- 
 mend them but that mention, only the 
 poet's having now and then walked in 
 those places, and by their being beau- 
 tifully engraved, after the designs of 
 Westall, &c. 
 
 CXCI, 
 
 I wish to refer my reader to a- letter 
 which appeared some time ago in the 
 
257 
 
 Gentleman's Magazine, under the sig- 
 nature, if I recollect right, of Philologus, 
 in which I attempted to shew the 
 superiority of the ancient languages 
 over the modern, in conciseness and 
 energy, by instancing a sentence, "gaude 
 tu, gaudeantque omnes," which in the 
 Italian would be, godi tu, godete tutti : 
 in French, Rejouis-toitu, et que tousse 
 rejouissent ; in English, (come forth 
 John Bull, leaning upon your auxiliary 
 verbs) Do thou rejoice, and let all re- 
 joice.' 7 Of the three last, the Italian 
 keeps pace with her parent in concise- 
 ness, but not I think in elegance ; the 
 two last, as being of a mongrel breed, 
 though deriving (partly at least) their 
 origin from a respectable sire, limp 
 awkwardly behind on their reflective 
 and auxiliary supports. 
 
 An instance also of the li ttle that is to 
 be gained by losing sight of an original 
 derivation, may, 1 think, be adduced in 
 
 the substitution which our writers have 
 s. 
 
258 
 
 lately chosen to make, of the weak and 
 foolish participle Isolated, for Insulated ; 
 the latter an immediate derivative from 
 the original Latin, is manly, simple, and 
 sufficiently soft to be a characteristic 
 member of our language. The former, 
 effeminate and indecisive, (giving, 
 however, to the beautiful Italian 
 language all the credit due to the 
 harmony, and to the noble tragic 
 poet Alfieri (the favorite of Melpo- 
 mene) all the dignity of his expressive 
 and energetic muse ; and having a weak 
 and undetermined chain of connection 
 through a modern medium, with its ori- 
 ginal derivation. Insula (it might as 
 well be traced to solus) — isola — isolata, 
 — from whence the French* isole, iso- 
 lated. Reader, how like you this? will 
 you not return to Insulated ? 
 
 * If that language could not emancipate itself (did 
 Rome prevent it ?) from the chains of the Italian, why 
 should not ours ? Let us not imitate, ut servum pecus, 
 but where there is good reason for it. 
 
259 
 
 cxcir. 
 When I am dead and gone,' all that 
 personally concerned me will probably 
 be forgotten. This little book may 
 perhaps remain — and so, 
 
 Addio, Signori miei. 
 
 E Londinio exiturus, spei plenus, sed non votis 
 clto satisfacturus, scripsit, W. D. Junii die 5, 1821. 
 
 CXCIII. 
 We are often inclined to ascribe an 
 effect to one cause, when it may be 
 owing to a combination of—how many ! 
 In reasoning thus we may often lose 
 ground instead of gaining it. 
 
 CXCIV. 
 Happiness, it is said, is but opinion; 
 if this is true, is it not the more in our 
 
 power ? 
 
 S2 
 
260 
 
 CXCV. 
 
 The heart should have but one com- 
 mon language. How is it that the ex- 
 pression is so different ? Is it because 
 every passion has its dialect ? 
 
 CXCVI. 
 
 Every man's conduct, whatever way 
 it is directed, must, I should think, be 
 in some shape the result of inclination. 
 Should not this teach us neither to be too 
 proud of ourselves, nor too ready to 
 condemn others ? 
 
 CXCVII. 
 
 Are there many who can truly say 
 when they approach the Temple of God, 
 
261 
 
 <e Ad istud vero non trahit levitas aliqua, 
 nee curiositas aut sensualitas : sed firraa 
 fides, devota spes, et sincera charitas." 
 
 Thomas a Kempis de Imit. Christ. Lib. 4. — 9. 
 
 CXCVIII. 
 How nice is the distinction between 
 consistency and obstinacy ! unless we 
 reason largely, liberally, and justly. 
 
 CXCIX. 
 With whatever degree of ability men 
 may express their thoughts, there are 
 few, I should imagine, who do not think 
 more than they can express. 
 
 CC. 
 
 A strong disapprobation (however 
 just it may be) of any opinion or practice 
 
262 
 
 may incline us to give too unqualified 
 an approbation of the opposite way of 
 thinking or acting. Thus " Incidit in 
 scyllam, qui yult vitare charybdim." 
 This perhaps arises from our thinking 
 that we ought to embrace a decided 
 opinion, and to do justice both to our- 
 selves and the opinion we adopt, by 
 shewing the strength of our adherence 
 to it. Forwhat may this be a substitute ? 
 
 CCI. 
 
 In life we are continually seeking for 
 what may interest us; but how often 
 must we be content with what will 
 merely amuse us ! 
 
 ecu. 
 
 Are there not many things amongst 
 the institutions of society, which have 
 
263 
 
 been the subjects of violent and obsti- 
 nate controversy, and of which a little 
 unprejudiced common sense may be 
 able at once to form both the censure 
 and the apology. 
 
 CCIII. 
 
 Most people love their ease, but few 
 know how to earn it, and still fewer 
 perhaps how to enjoy it. Is it not the 
 want of this knowledge that makes many 
 a restless mind ? 
 
 CCIV. 
 
 There is a kind of good advice of 
 which perhaps it may be said, that by 
 those who think seriously it is not 
 wanted, and on those who do not, it is 
 thrown away. 
 
264 
 
 ccv. 
 
 To which shall the child of affliction 
 have recourse, religion or philosophy ? 
 Religion opens her arms : Philosophy 
 has no arms to open. 
 
 CCVL 
 
 Of what feelings is not the human 
 heart capable, and what ideas may not 
 be excited in the mind? Purify and ex- 
 alt, I beseech thee, O Lord, those of 
 which I am conscious, imperfect as that 
 consciousness is, and direct them to 
 their proper end. 
 
 CCVII. 
 Seriousness begets sympathy. 
 
265 
 
 CCVIII. 
 Media inter pocula. — Half seas over. 
 
 CC1X. 
 
 Is not the " aurea mediocritas" the 
 (moral) philosopher's stone ? 
 
 CCX. 
 Is it strength of mind, or of the pas- 
 sions, that generally conduces the most 
 to form what is called a decided cha- 
 racter ? 
 
 CCXI. 
 I have heard it somewhat shrewdly 
 said, that if men were not sometimes 
 
266 
 
 obstinate, they would not know when 
 they were in the right. But this is a 
 caricature. 
 
 CCX1I. 
 We can only judge of things com- 
 paratively : to do this justly, we should 
 compare them, not with what might be 
 but with what is. 
 
 CCXIII, 
 " There is no wonder, or else all is 
 wonder." — &nd all is wonder. Why ? 
 Because all, collectively or individually, 
 is beyond, far beyond, our knowledge 
 and comprehension. 
 
 CCXIV. 
 If it were absolutely necessary that 
 preaching and practising should go hand 
 
267 
 
 in hand, how many would there be to 
 claim the right of preaching ? 
 
 CCXV. 
 
 Doing nothing may be said to be 
 idleness. But is there not often as 
 much dissipation as occupation in doing 
 something ? 
 
 CCXVL 
 
 Natural grace seems to consist in 
 putting a figure precisely in the attitude 
 that the action, or the intent of that 
 attitude, requires : and all beyond that 
 is affectation, all below it auk ward ness. 
 For this reason I must own that I cannot 
 help preferring the beautiful simplicity 
 of Chauntry's figures, to the shewy, but 
 often meritricious and extravagant 
 graces of his fashionable rival Canova. 
 
2S8 
 
 CCXVII. 
 
 All number, however multiplied, is 
 nothing in comparison with infinity. 
 What a subject for thought ! if thought 
 could reach it. 
 
 CCXVIII. 
 
 Alas, Alas ! non in terra quies : sola- 
 mina,yes. 
 
 CCXIX. 
 
 To be just to others, a man should 
 not be more than just to himself. 
 
 CCXX. 
 How often are our passions our worst 
 enemies. 
 
269 
 
 CCXXI. 
 Humility without debasement. 
 
 CCXXII. 
 
 We have perhaps as much reason to 
 be surprised at the variety and extent to 
 which our reasoning on moral or physi- 
 cal subjects can be carried, as at the 
 little real knowledge we can attain of 
 either. 
 
 ccxxm. 
 
 " Je ne scais rien, je n'ai jamais rien 
 scu," says a French author, whom I 
 lately read. This might be truly said, 
 in a certain sense, I believe, by the 
 wisest man that ever lived, but if the 
 assertion is meant to sanction the ex- 
 
270 
 
 treme of scepticism, (than which nothing 
 is more dogmatic) it is as reprehensible 
 as it is false. 
 
 CCXXIV. 
 
 In matters of sentiment, the grounds 
 of assent or rejection must, 1 should sup- 
 pose, differ from those of mere matter of 
 fact ; and the manner and degree of 
 assent obtained must probably depend a 
 good deal upon the moral inclination 
 of the person addressed to. Now reli- 
 gion is chiefly a matter of sentiment : 
 not merely the judgment, but all the 
 passions are concerned, one way or ano- 
 ther, in its reception or rejection. 
 
 CCXXV. 
 
 " I ne'er shall look upon his like again." 
 " Quando ullum inveniam parem 1" 
 
271 
 
 O Shakespeare and Horace, may I 
 add my voice to yours ? Yes, surely, 
 for never was this tribute of filial 
 affection more strongly called for. 
 
 CCXXVI. 
 
 How many things there are that make 
 life appear to be a contest of policy ! 
 If it is so, happy is it that u honesty is 
 the best policy !" 
 
 CCXXVII. 
 
 Plainness and simplicity of manners, 
 Is not that the test of virtue both in a 
 nation and individuals ? 
 
 CCXXVIII. 
 A man who finds all his happiness in 
 
272 
 
 the enjoyments of this life, is as irra- 
 tional as he who finds none in them. 
 
 CCXXIX. 
 Are not philosophers apt to reason 
 upon human nature as if there was no- 
 thing be)ond it? 
 
 CCXXX. 
 
 It is a dangerous and pernicious thing 
 to disguise or pervert truth in any case ; 
 but to avoid this, all the circumstances 
 of the case, and all that is connected with 
 it, should be fairly and judiciously con- 
 sidered. 
 
 CCXXXI. 
 
 In how many cases it is difficult (and 
 how difficult !) to satisfy ourselves ! 
 
273 
 
 CCXXXII. 
 
 What is the great business ot life, 
 null 
 Comoetition. 
 
 the great stimulus to human exertion ? 
 
 CCXXXIII. 
 " Metiri se quemque suo modulo 
 ac pede," is one of the best rules that 
 have been given for the conduct of life ; 
 but it is a very comprehensive one, and 
 to practise it a man should know him- 
 self well, ami have all the requisites 
 to enable him to be (as Mr. Greville 
 expresses it in his maxims) " in his 
 proper place." 
 
 CCXXXIV. 
 There is, perhaps, as much variety as 
 sameness in human characters. 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 CCXXXV. 
 
 Life is a school: but all may not be 
 equally able to undergo the severer 
 parts of its discipline : however, they 
 will have assistance. 
 
 CCXXXVI. 
 
 There is enough in human life to 
 create solicitude and doubt, and enough 
 to give confidence and assurance. 
 These different sensations may be pro- 
 duced by the different sides on which we 
 view the picture. To compare and 
 judge of them fairly, we should see both 
 together : but can we do that ? The 
 metaphor seems to imply that we 
 cannot. 
 
275 
 
 ccxxxvir. 
 
 How necessarily does the imperfection 
 of language seem to result from the im- 
 perfection of our knowledge and ideas ! 
 And vice versa. 
 
 CCXXXVIII. 
 
 Shakespeare has the art of making 
 even his play upon words add to the 
 pathos of the passages in which he exhi- 
 bits it : for instance, Othello's last 
 words after stabbing himself, " 1 kist 
 thee ere I kill'd thee : no way but this, 
 killing myself to die upon a kiss." But 
 perhaps, in fact, the pun here is lost in 
 the pathos, or rather the conceit — for 
 pun there is none. 
 
 T2 
 
276 
 
 CCXXXIX. 
 
 The preservation of the lives- of indi- 
 viduals may often be of greater im- 
 portance in the eye of humanity than of 
 policy : I mean in its immediate ten- 
 dency, for its ultimate must be to pre- 
 serve those bonds which are necessary 
 to unite men in a state of society. The 
 great object of government should be to 
 make the general interest the interest 
 also of each individual. 
 
 CCXL. 
 
 What a resource against ennui does 
 the variety, and may 1 not say confu- 
 sion* of human affairs, with all their 
 
 * That is, apparent confusion, " a mighty maze, but not 
 without a plan." But thai plan, with all its combinations, 
 incomprehensible by us : by us, indeed—blind as we are ! 
 
277 
 
 relations, present ! and how often are 
 we obliged to this resource ! But is it so 
 easy to draw order out of this confusion? 
 
 CCXLI. 
 
 Who is there, that thinks at all, who 
 does not, when he retires to rest, ask 
 himself, " What have I been doing to- 
 day?" 
 
 CCXLII. 
 
 Wisdom may be unfathomable, as 
 Divine wisdom undoubtedly is; and if 
 so, its results may be equally beyond 
 our comprehension, or (consequently) 
 
 But that there is a plan, is surely evident, from mere 
 subsistence— and what medium can there be between 
 order and confusion ? I mean chaotic confusion : and what 
 is order, but systematic arrangement ? The sceptic may 
 be dissatisfied with these, or any suck words : but what 
 words will satisfy him ? 
 
278 
 
 reception ; that is, as truths that may be 
 comprehended, but not assuch as may not 
 be attested by comprehensible evidence. 
 In how many shapes this truth will pre- 
 sent itself to the mind, I believe the 
 preceding pages of this book will serve 
 to shew. 
 
 CCXLIIT. 
 
 Hail to the freshness of the morning 
 air ! and all hail to thee, O thou rising 
 Sun, that gladdenest my heart with thy 
 beams ! 
 
 Andover— Sole oriente, iter ad Exoniam faciens, 
 June 6, 1821.— W. D. 
 
 CCXLIV. 
 
 *' Who now exults but • at his heart V 
 
 Let me not exult however beyond 
 measure : let me be « ab insolenti 
 ^emperatus'latitia"- — " m oritur us " 
 
279 
 
 CCXLV. 
 
 '/ Ille potens sui laetusque vivet." 
 
 Who knows how to keep the passions 
 
 that nature has given him, within their 
 
 proper bounds, and to direct them to 
 
 their proper purposes ? 
 
 CCXLVI. 
 
 I knew a man who was of a very 
 social turn, but a little too fond of hear- 
 ing himself talk, and I am afraid, in 
 other respects, did not answer the 
 description given in the preceding 
 number. Somebody observed of him, 
 that he justified Pope's description of 
 individual happiness, 
 
 " There's not a bliss the human heart can find, 
 But some way leans, and hearkens to mankind." 
 
 Aye, says another, so he may in -leaning. 
 
280 
 
 but certainly not in hearkening, for lie 
 talks too much himself to do that. This 
 may not be a bad hint for me to close 
 my book. 
 
 CCXLVIT. 
 
 It must be expected, that in people 
 who are much conversant with the 
 world, there will be an indisposition to 
 give credit to simplicity of character.* 
 This, like other opinions, will arise 
 chiefly from habit and experience, and 
 from the want of opportunity, which 
 these and other causes occasion, to make 
 observations of what might afford room 
 for different and more favorable senti- 
 ments than what the commerce of the 
 world (the fashionable part of it at least) 
 generally excites.f 
 
 * No Anne, they do not do thee justice. 
 
 + Query, How far is Rosseau's assertion, "L'homme 
 est bon, mais les hommes sont medians," true ? 
 
281 
 
 ccxLvnr. 
 
 All beauty must arise from simpli- 
 city, and whatever accessories may be 
 given to it, ihey should adorn, but not 
 disguise or alter it. Simplicity indeed 
 is truth ; and the only substitution for it 
 must be that of its opposite, falsehood. 
 This may serve to introduce the men- 
 tion of a promise made me of becoming 
 the happy possessor of a work of a great 
 original master, at the end of the pre- 
 sent year 1821, the intermediate delay 
 being, as I find, necessary on ac- 
 count of certain rules attached to the 
 circumstances of the case. Perhaps, 
 (says my reader) you mean some work 
 of Sir Joshua Heynolds's, of whose I 
 heard that you have lately purchased 
 several very beautiful, as, a St. John, 
 a Holy Family, <&c ; though after all, 
 this of which you have spoken may be 
 
only a copy. — No, reader, it is an origi- 
 nal, not by the hands of Sir Joshua* 
 great as he certainly was, and happy as 
 are his representations of nature ; but 
 by that of a still greater master : some 
 alterations and improvements indeed 
 have been made by more modern 
 masters, since its first production, but in 
 no way altering or interfering with the 
 purity and simplicity of the original 
 design. The time (about 26 years from 
 its first production, which was on the 1st 
 of January, 1796,) that it has remained 
 in the hands of its present w orthy pos- 
 sessor, has given sufficient mellowness 
 to the tints, but without at all diminish- 
 ing their freshness, or that charming 
 glow of colouring which would do 
 honor to the pencil of Rubens, without 
 any of that excessive plumpness or 
 awkwardness that makes downright 
 kitchen- wenches of his Venus's and 
 Graces ; nor yet has this picture, (true 
 as it is to nature in her best manner) 
 
283 
 
 the extreme grace bordering on affecta- 
 tion, observable in many of Guido's 
 figures ; this (being a full length) is 
 about 5 feet 2 inches in height. To 
 describe the different parts of it : — the 
 general outline is elegant, filled up 
 chiefly with the most beautiful carnation; 
 the hair is nearly black, the eyes of a 
 lovely hazel, the nose* perhaps rather 
 too low and broad, but not at all flat, 
 being in perfect harmony with the rest 
 of the features, and the line of it ap- 
 proaching to the Grecian ; the mouth 
 sufficiently small and round, with a 
 turn of the upper lip that gives a pe- 
 culiar grace and archness to a smile full 
 of sweetness and expression, without 
 the smallest mixture of affectation or 
 awkwardness ; a smile that far outdoes 
 that of Prior's Chloe, when she gave it as 
 a reward for " her lover's pains ;" — for 
 this is a face " as much fairer than hers," 
 -. 
 
 * N. B. This feature is not done justice to in this 
 description. 
 
284 
 
 <&c. — a smile too, that forms a delightful 
 contrast with the equally touching sen- 
 sibility that shews itself when opposite 
 emotions are awakened, In short, 
 reader, to let you into a secret that I 
 fear I have already betrayed, it is a work 
 that you will say is impossible as an 
 improvement on nature ; and so it would 
 be, reader, were it a work of art ; but 
 it is an improvement by Nature on her- 
 self; on all the works that she ever 
 produced before. For the mind that 
 inhabits and animates this charming 
 frame, I must refer you, O reader, to a 
 higher and worthier source. Sufficient 
 to say that it is fully adequate to all that 
 I have described. 
 
 Yes, my sweet Anne, you ought to 
 have been elevated to a much higher 
 rank, as you well deserve it, than to be 
 the wife of a Yorkshire Squire. And 
 yet, why? Fama et honores, et opes, et 
 dignitas, non nisi per virtutes, et pro 
 meritis petenda sunt, aut praeberi de- 
 
285 
 
 bent, et sane omittenda facile sunt, ut 
 nihil ad vitae pretium referential igitur, 
 
 " Stet quicunque volet potens 
 Aulae culmine lubrico," &c. 
 
 Non tamen hominum existhnationem 
 parvi facio; sed unde recte speranda 
 est quaero. 
 
 CCXLIX. 
 
 Guatias, gratias ardentissiinas, prop- 
 ter haec, propter omnia ; for what wish 
 have I unfulfilled ? or at least as near 
 fulfilment as human probabilities can 
 make it. But are these certitudes? — 
 "Sperat infaustis, metuit secundis re- 
 bus," &c. — But are joy and fear com- 
 patible with each other? Yes, perhaps, 
 if a third sentiment intervenes-riA refe- 
 rence to superior power ; and what does 
 this reference produce? Is it not secu- 
 rity ? And does not this prove that 
 
286 
 
 security is necessary to the human heart ? 
 And what but religion can give it ? And 
 what religion butthe Christian assures us 
 of it ? This then gives the bene praepa- 
 ratum pectus." How do we acquire this ? 
 can we without adversity ? Perhaps not 
 thoroughly ; such then are the <c uses of 
 adversity," and such the ''precious jewel 
 in his head," (beautiful appropriation 
 of popular superstition ?); uses, that give 
 us a knowledge of ourselves ; a know- 
 ledge of what is unfathomable, if we 
 would indeed reach its bottom with our 
 short line — a knowledge of our minds, 
 which are as prone to error as to recti- 
 tude ; as sensible to pleasure as to pain, 
 O God, thou knowest us; thy know- 
 ledge supplies the defect of ours, and 
 determines the proportionate responsi- 
 Y we owe to thee. 
 
 . 
 
 ; 
 
287 
 
 CCL. 
 
 prima anni venturi dies, dies"ani- 
 ma3 dimidii meae" natalis, quantae, Deo 
 favente, felicitatis series a te incipiet ! 
 mihi forse "novus saeclorum nascitur 
 ordo ;" mihi vero felicitas mea sufficiat. 
 Mais dans l'interim il faut que je m'en 
 arrache : correspondence, however, will 
 remain, that substitute for, and supple- 
 ment to conversation : and what a sup- 
 plement ! Little does he know of the 
 human mind, who does not see the vast 
 importance it is of. 
 
 1 feel that I owe a further apology to 
 my reader for the intermixture of lan- 
 guages in this book. I do not know 
 whether he will accept as such, that of 
 the superior force with which (at least 
 as it appears to me) an idea may some- 
 times be expressed in one language 
 more than in another. The insertions 
 
288 
 
 from Lactantius, I think, may well be 
 excused, on account of the great beauty 
 of his language as well as his sentiments. 
 
 ecu. 
 
 I think there is no doubt that the 
 qualities of the mind may be learned 
 from the form of the features, the coun- 
 tenance, &c. : true it is, that we see dis- 
 cordance enough to justify the " fronti 
 nulla fides :" but this may arise from bad 
 education, habit (that " second nature") 
 &c. ; the original qualities may remain 
 the same, and would have shewn them- 
 selves such as the external appearance 
 indicates, had they not been perverted. 
 What reservation then may we not sup- 
 pose the great Author of Nature to have 
 made, to ground a final decision upon, 
 different from any that we can form in 
 this world ? O then, at least let our 
 compassion have its full indulgence 
 
289 
 
 given to it! which indeed it ought to 
 have, to a greater extent than the dis- 
 tinction implied in the above observation 
 would dictate to us. How finite must 
 be any judgments that we can form ! 
 
 CCLII. 
 
 There can be no real pleasure in 
 conversation, without at least some 
 degree of confidence. 
 
 ccuir. 
 How expansive is Love ! 
 
 CCLIV. 
 
 et O Lord, in thee have I trusted ; let me never 
 be confounded." 
 
 And may 1 add— may I not add — I 
 
 trust also, that in this most important 
 V 
 
290 
 
 object in my life, more important, per- 
 haps, in its consequences than 1 can he 
 aware of, I may not be deceived or dis- 
 appointed. No, I cannot be either ; the 
 powers of perception that are given me, 
 nay, the bare use of common sense, 
 assure me that I cannot; and that in 
 this instance too my heart would have 
 been ff the convert of my head ;" at 
 least that its most enthusiastic impulses 
 will be confirmed by all that my reason 
 can suggest or judge of. Fie, fie then, 
 my friends ; cease your remonstrances, 
 calm your suspicions ; acknowledge the 
 right of your friend to trust to the con- 
 clusions of his own judgment, and to 
 demand your concurrence in them ; and 
 prevent at least part of the shame that 
 you must soon feel for having so long 
 withheld it; for either I must have been 
 deficient in doing justice to the argu- 
 ments on my side, or you must have 
 been, and still are, deaf to all argument 
 or reason whatever. 
 
291 
 
 CCLV. 
 
 I have gained her heart (happy man 
 that I am !), her confidence ; let me not 
 abuse it. And shall I not give her mine ? 
 Yes, in the most unlimited degree ; for 
 she is my second self, nay, my better 
 self: she has given me feelings that 1 
 knew not before. She thinks, feels, and 
 acts as she ought to do, and she wants 
 nothing but encouragement (and that 
 she has within herself) to make her con- 
 tinue to do so. She is all, in short, that 
 I can wish her to be. O Contento ! 
 O dolce riposo del mio cor! I am 
 sure ; and from whence do I derive my 
 security? From my heart, my head and 
 my God. — Deusin optima dirigat! 
 
292 
 
 CCLVI. 
 
 It is always more or less dangerous to 
 act from the impulse of the moment ; 
 but it is less so in some minds than in 
 others, as that impulse will vary accord- 
 ing to the peculiar cast of the mind, 
 which will determine its decisions, how- 
 ever sudden they may be. 
 
 CCLVIf. 
 
 For close connection, congeniality of 
 mind is required ; but if lesser ties did 
 not unite us, how loose would the bands 
 of society be ! But I am afraid, reader, 
 that you will say, " What an inveterate 
 habit of 'senteiitiousness has this man ac- 
 quired W Adieu then, reader. 
 
 Exeter. June 23, 1821. 
 
APPENDIX, 
 
 To No. 1. 
 
 " Of two eternities amazing Lord," 
 
 Add, 
 tf The past, ere man's or angel's had begun." 
 
 That is, if eternity may be divided 
 into parts, which seen* to belong to time; 
 incongruous, however, as the thought 
 may be, it is surely a sublime one. 
 
 Having said in the same number, 
 that " all we know may be fairly said to 
 amount to nothing/' although what I 
 have said elsewhere might be sufficient 
 to guard me againit any misconstruction 
 of my meaning, yet I wish here also to 
 defend myself against any imputation 
 
294 
 
 that may be cast upon me, of seeking 
 to countenance that sort of scepticism, 
 which would shelter its unbelief under 
 the false pretence of ignorance. I 
 would be understood then to mean, 
 what I think is expressed by Dr. Ogden 
 in one of his sermons, where he says 
 " that we know the whole of nothing." 
 If this is true, (and who will deny it ?) 
 then we may fairly be said to know 
 nothing completely ; and the end of all 
 our acquired knowledge must be the 
 sense of our comparative ignorance. — 
 This, however, will leave plenty of 
 room for all the knowledge that our 
 duties, our wants, and our enjoyments 
 require ; in short, all the purposes of 
 our existence in this, and our destination 
 for another world. This ample stock 
 of knowledge, the bounty of our great 
 Creator has indeed given us, with the 
 power both of using and abusing it, 
 which latter is but too often done, 
 though he has also given us our reasorr 
 
m5 
 
 as a preservative against it, with the 
 proper use of which, and of the informa- 
 tion that we have received, and the 
 application of both by the common 
 sense of the rational part of our fellow 
 creatures, we may, with the Divine as- 
 sistance that has been promised to those 
 who use their best endeavours to do 
 right, think ourselves pretty secure 
 against those errors that are the most 
 dangerous to our welfare. It will there- 
 fore be with our eyes open that we run 
 into any serious dangers that may await 
 us : all errors, however, are not equally 
 dangerous; for an allowance will be 
 made for those that the frailty and 
 weakness of our nature expose us to, 
 and an atonement (and what an atone- 
 ment!) has been provided for still great- 
 er deviations from rectitude, when the 
 commission of them has been sincerely 
 repented of, and the repetition of them 
 stedfa?tly avoided. 
 
296 
 
 I hope that a candid allowance will 
 also be made for any other disputable 
 passage that may occur in the preceding 
 pages ; that what is said of metaphysics, 
 or of the subtler parts of physics, will be 
 considered with the same candor ; hoping 
 too, as 1 do, that if the whole of it should 
 not be capable of effecting any good 
 purpose, it may not, at least, be turned 
 to any bad one ; for the fulfilment of 
 which hope, my best trust must be in 
 that Power who sees the "devices and 
 desires of our hearts," and who will 
 promote or defeat them as in his wisdom 
 and his justice he shall think fit. To 
 him, therefore, the great Disposer of 
 Events, let me offer up this short prayer : 
 sf May this little work be instrumental 
 in doing some good ; and may I find 
 favor in thy sight, O Lord, for the good 
 that is intended by it ;" for (i I trust in 
 thee, and know in whom I trust." In 
 such knowledge, both the head and the 
 heart are concerned. — May it be mine ! 
 
297 
 
 and may 1 be allowed to say — H fungar 
 vice cotis," for others and for myself. 
 But, O my God ! how shall I thank 
 thee for all the mercies thou hast 
 bestowed upon me ? O let me 'muse* 
 my thanks, for I cannot express them." 
 
 Northbrooke, May 2, 1821. 
 Hora Matutina. 
 
 And let me hope, that in whatever 
 hands, and before whatever eyes this 
 little book may fall (and I will not say 
 how far my expectation reaches) the 
 sentim ents in it will be regarded as the 
 sincere expressions of one from whom 
 correspondent sentiments may be ex- 
 pected and depended upon. 
 
 Love fills all the mind, and engages 
 all the affections of heart. — True, it does 
 so; but let us examine the purest and 
 most refined sensations it excites, and let 
 us see whether they are not allied to 
 something still purer, still higher. Of 
 what feeling is not the human heart 
 capable, when properly regulated ! 
 W 
 
2$8 
 
 O Religion! as I began, so let me end 
 with thee ! for what griefs dost thou not 
 solace, what hopes dost thou not encou- 
 rage ? thy joys can never tire, for they 
 are joys in expectation ; thy converse 
 fills all the mind, and employs all its 
 powers, and engages all the affections of 
 the heart : satiate it cannot, for there 
 is still new matter to seize and to dwell 
 upon, and if the powers of our weak 
 and inconstant minds are exhausted by 
 it, they again return to its delightful 
 exercise, when lighter subjects have 
 refreshed and amused them, but in 
 amusing only shewed their own empti- 
 ness, and their insufficiency to satisfy 
 the best and dearest wishes of our hearts : 
 no reverse canst thou know, for what 
 change, what loss can that be subject to, 
 which is itself a resourse against every 
 other? If we lose a friend, we gain ano- 
 ther in heaven ; if we lose a joy, nay all 
 our joys, we have infinite in store of a 
 far higher nature — of a nature which 
 
299 
 
 the mind cannot conceive, but which 
 the heart can feel its desire and its ca- 
 pacity for, and its certain hope of, as- 
 sured as are both our reason and our 
 feelings of that certitude, of which every 
 assurance, every testimony has been 
 given. Let us then embrace, hold fast, 
 and lean upon, the only support that 
 will not sink under us; and let us die 
 as we have lived, with the sure and cer- 
 tain hope that it will be lasting, that it 
 will be eternal ; that we shall be blest 
 and " entendered" for ever. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 j 
 
 Wool mer, Printer, Exeter. 
 
 
 
Wjb live, we move, act, speak and 
 think ; and when all is over, we are re- 
 membered for a while, and then, ex- 
 cepting some occasional mention and 
 recollections, we are forgotten : and be 
 it so ; for it is of little moment that the 
 Creatures forget, if the Creator re- 
 members. 
 

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