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abilities made fur no purpose? A brúte arrives at a point of perfection that he can never pafs; in a few years he has all the endowments he is capable of; and were he to live ten thousand more, would ha the fame thing he is at present. Were a human foul the hand in her accomplishments, were her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away in fenfibly, and drop at once into a ftate of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking being, that is in a perpetual progress of improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfeč. tion, after having just looked abroad into the works of its Creator, and made a few discoveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom and power, muft perish at her first fetting out, and in the very beginning of her inquiries ?

MẠN, confidered in his present ftatė, feems only fent into the world to propagate his kind. He provides himself with a successor, and immediately quits his post to make room for him.

He does not seem born to enjoy life, but to deliver it down to others. This is not surprising to consider, in animals, which are formed for our use, and can finish their bufunefs in a short life. The filk-worm, after having spun her task, lays her eggs and dies. But in this life man can never take in his full measure of knowledge ; nor has he time to subdue his paffions, establith his fool in virtue, and come up to the perfection of his nature, before he is hurried off the stage. Would an infinitely wise Being make fúch glorious creatures for fo mean a purpose ? Can he delight in the production of such abortive intelligences, fæch fhort-lived reafonable beings? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted ? Capacities that are never to be gra ifted ? How can we find that wisdom which shines through all his works, in the formation of man, without lookin this world as only a nursery for the next, and believing thit the several generations of rational creatures, which rise up and disappear in such quick facceffions, are only to receive their first-rudi. ments of existence here, and

to be transplanted into a more friendly climate, wher they may spread and flourish to all eternity.

Thère is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triamphantconfideration in religion, than this of the perpetual progress which the foul makes towards the perfection of its natore, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look upon the foul as going on from strength to ftrength, to consider that she is to shine for ever with new acceffions of glorý, and brighten to all eternity ; that he will be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge ; carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God himself, to see his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him, by greater degrees of resemblance.

Methinks this single confideration, of the progress of a finite spirit to perfection, will be sufficient to extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in superior. That cherubim, which now appears as a God to a human soul, knows very well that the period will come about in eternity, when the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now is: nay, when she shall look down upon that degree of perfaolin

fection, as much as she now falls short of it. It is true, the " higher nature still advances, and by that means preserves his

distance and superiority in the scale of being; but he knows y that, how high foever the station is of which he stands porn


sessed at prefent, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. · With what astonishment and veneration may we look into our souls, where there are such hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inexhausted sources of perfection! We know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in reserve for him. The soul, considered in relation to its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity, without a possibility of touching it: and can there be a thought so transporting, as to consider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to Him, who is not only the standard of perfection, but of happiness!


CH A P. v.

D ETIRE; The world shut 011t;---Thy thoughts

call home ;Imagination's airy wing repress ; Lock up thy senses; - Let no passion ftir ;Wake all to Reason ;~ Let her reign alone ;Then, in thy Soul's deep filence, and the depth of Nature's filence, midnight, thus inquire:

What am I? and from whence? - I nothing know, But that I am; and, since I am, conclude Something eternal: had there e'er been nought, Nought ttill had been : E:ernal there must be. But what eternaiWhy not human race? .. And ADAM's ancestors without an end? - .. That's hard to be conceiv’d; since ev'ry link

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Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail ;
Can every part depend, and not the whole ?
Yet grant it true; new difficulties rise ;
I'm still quite out at fea; nor see the shore.
Whence earth, and these bright orbs Eternal too!--
Grant matter was eternal; still these orbs
Would want some other Father ;-Much design
Is seen in all their motions, all their makes;
Design implies intelligence, and art:
That can't be from themselves--or man; that art
Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow?
And nothing greater, yet allow'd, than man.
Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain,
Shot thro’ vast masses of enormous weight?
Who bid brute matter's restive lump assume
Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly?
Has matter innate motion. Then each atom,
Afferting its indisputable right
To dance, would form an universe of duft:
Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms,
And boundless fights, from shapeless, and repos’d?
Has matter more than motion? Has it thought,
Judgment, and genius? Is it deeply learn’d
In Mathematics? Has it fram'd such laws,
Which, but to guess, a Newton made immortal?
If art, to form; and counsel, to conduct;
And that with greater far, than human skill,
Resides not in each block ;-a GODHEAD reigns.
And, if a GOD there is, that GOD how great!


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V ES, noble lady, I swear by this blood, which was once

I fo pure, and which nothing but royal villainy could have polluted, that I will pursue Lucius Tarquinius the proud, his wicked wife, and their children, with fire and sword: nor will I ever suffer any of that family, or of any other whatsoever,' to be King in Rome. Ye Gods, I call you to witness this my oath !-There, Romans, turn your eyes to that fad spectacle the daughter of Lucretius, Collatinus's wife he died by her own hand. See there a noble lady, whom the lust of a Tarqnin reduced to the necessity of being her own executioner, to atteft her innocence. Hospitably entertained by her as a kinsman of her husband's, Sextus, the perfidious guest, became her brutal ravilher. The chaste, the generous Lucretia could not survive the insult. Glorious


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