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of giving us pleasure, not considering that thou conveyest through them all the pleasure which we imagine they give us, Such vain empty objects, that are only the shadows of being, are proportioned to our low and groveling thoughts. That beauty, which thou hast poured out on thy creation, is as a veil which hides thee from our eyes. As thou art a Being too pure and exalted to pass through our senses, thou art not regarded by men, who have debased their nature, and have made themselves like the beasts that perish. So infatuated are they, that, notwithstanding they know what is wisdom and virtue, which have neither sound, nor colour, nor smell, nor taste, nor figure, nor any other sensible quality, they can doubt of thy existence, because thou art not apprehended by the grosser organs of sense. Wretches that we are; we consider shadows as realities, and truth as a phantom. That which is nothing is all to us, and that which is all appears to us nothing. What do we see in all nature but thee, O my God! Thou, and only thou appearest in every thing. When I consider thee, O Lord, I am swallowed up and lost in contemplation of thee. Every thing besides thee, even my own existence, vanishes and disappears in the contemplation of thee. I am lost to myself, and fall into nothing, when I think on thee. The man, who does not see thee, has beheld no

thing; he, who does not taste thee, has a relish of nothing. His being is vain, and his life but a dream. Set up thyself, O Lord, set up thyself, that we may behold thee. As

wax comsumes before the fire, and as the smoke is driven away, so let thine enemies vanish out of thy presence. How unhappy is that soul, who, without the sense of thee, has no God, no hope, no comfort to support him! But how happy the man who searches, sighs, and thirsts after thee! But he only is fully happy, on whom thou liftest up the light of thy countenance, whose tears thou hast wiped away, and who enjoys, in thy lovingkindness, the completion of all his desires. How long, how long, O Lord, shall I wait for that day, when I shall possess, in thy presence, fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore! O my God, in this pleasing hope, my bones rejoice and cry out, Who is like unto thee! My

heart melts away, and my soul faints within me, when I look up to thee, who art the God of my life, and my portion to all eternity.'

SECTION III.

THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.

Visu carentem magna pars veri latet.
SEN. IN EDIP.

It is very reasonable to believe, that part of the pleasure, which happy minds shall enjoy in a future state, will arise from an enlarged contemplation of the Divine Wisdom in the government of the world, and a discovery of the secret and amazing steps of Providence, from the beginning to the end of time. Nothing seems to be an entertainment more adapted to the nature of man, if we consider that curiosity is one of the strongest and most lasting appetites implanted in us, and that admiration is one of our most pleasing passions; and what a perpetual succession of enjoyments will be afforded to both these in a scene so large and various as shall then be laid open to our view in the society of supe rior spirits, who perhaps will join with us in so delightful a prospect!

It is not impossible, on the contrary, that part of the punishment of such as are excluded from bliss, may consist not only in their being denied this privilege, but in having their appetites at the same time vastly increased, with

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out any satisfaction afforded to them. these, the vain pursuit of knowledge shall, perhaps, add to their infelicity, and bewilder them into labyrinths of error, darkness, distraction, and uncertainty of every thing but their own evil state. Milton has thus represented the fallen angels reasoning together in a kind of respite from their torments, and creating to themselves a new disquiet amidst their very amusements: he could not properly have described the sports of condemned spirits without that cast of horror and melancholy he has so judiciously mingled with them.

Others apart sat on a hill retir'd,

In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high
Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate,
Fixt Fate, Freewill, Foreknowledge absolute,
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost.

In our present condition, which is a middle state, our minds are, as it were, chequered with truth and falsehood; and as our faculties are narrow, and our views imperfect, it is impossible but our curiosity must meet with many repulses. The business of mankind in this life being rather to act than to know, their portion of knowledge is dealt to them accordingly.

From hence it is that the reason of the inquisitive has so long been exercised with difficulties, in accounting for the promiscu

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otis distribution of good and evil to the virtu ous and the wicked in this world. From hence come all those pathetical complaints of so many tragical events, which happen to the wise and the good; and of such surprising prosperity, which is often the reward of the guilty and the foolish; that reason is sometimes puzzled, and at a loss what to pronounce upon so mysterious a dispensation.

Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, which seem to reflect on the Gods as the authors of injustice; and lays it down as a principle, that, whatever is permitted to befal a just man, whether poverty, sickness, or any of those things which seem to be evils, shall either in life or death conduce to his good. My reader will observe how agreeable this maxim is to what we find delivered by a greater authority. Seneca has written a discourse purposely on this subject; in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the Stoics, to show, that adversity is not in itself an evil; and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, that nothing would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction.' He compares prosperity to the indulgence of a fond mother to a child, which often proves his ruin; but the affection of the Divine Being to that of a wise father, who would have his sons exercised with labour, disappointment, and pain, that they may

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