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CONTENTS of the Seventh Night.
TURE, in Proof of Immortality: Here, others are drawn from MAN: From his Discontent, p.187; from bis Passions and Powers, 188 ; from the gradual Growth of Reason, 189; from his Fear of Death, ibid. from the Nature of Hope, 190; and of Virtue, 191, &c. from Knowlege, and Love, as being the most essential Properties of the Soul, 195; from the Order of Creation, 196; from the Nature of Ambition, 197, &c. Avarice, 202, 203; Pleasure, 204. A Digression on the Grandeur of the Passions, 205, 206. Immortality alone renders cur present State intelligible, 206, 207. An Objection from the Stoics Disbelief of Immortality, answered, 207, 208. Endless Questions unresolvable, but on Supposition of our Immortality, 208. The natural, most melancholy, and pathetic Complaint of a Worthy Man under the Persuasion of no Futurity, 209, &c. The gross Absurdities and Horrors of Annihilation urg'd home on LoRENZO, 215, &c. The Soul's vost Importance, 221, &c. from whence it arises, 224, 225. The Difficulty of being an Infidel, 227. The Infamy, ibid. the Cause, 229. and the Character, 229, 230, of an Infidel-State. What True Free-thinking is, 230, 231. The necessary Punishment of the False, 232. Man's Ruin is from Himself, 233. An Infidel accuses himself of Guilt, and Hypocrisy; and that of the worst Sort, 234. His Obligation to Christians, ibid. What Danger he incars by Virtue, 235. Vice recommended to Him, 236. His high Pretences to Virtue, and Benevolence, exploded, ibid. The Conclusion, or the Nature of Faith, 238. Reason, 239; and Hope, 239, 240; with an Apology for this Attempt, 240.
EAV’N gives the needful, but neglected, Call.
What Day, what Hour, but knocks at human To wake the Soul to Sense of future Scenes ? [Hearts, Deaths stand, like Mercurys, in ev'ry Way ; And kindly point us to our Journey's End. Pope, who couldst make. Immortals! art Thou dead ? I give thee Joy: Nor will I take
This, Earth and Skies * already have proclaim'd.
* Night the Sixth.
Can he prove Infidel to what he feels ?
Why Discontent for ever harbour'd there?
Is it, that Things Terrestrial can't content ? Deep in rich Pasture, will thy Flocks complain? Not so; but to their Master is deny'd To share their sweet Serene. Man, ill at Ease, In this, not his own Place, this foreign Field, Where Nature fodders him with other Food, Than was ordain'd his Cravings to suffice, Poor in Abundance, familh'd at a Feast, Sighs on for something more, when most enjoy'd. Is Heav'n then kinder to thy Flocks, than Thee i Not fo ; thy Pasture richer, but remote ;
In part, remote ; for that remoter Part
Shall Sons of Æther, shall the Blood of Heaven, Ser
up their Hopes on Earth, and stable here,
Our Heads, our Hearts, our Paffions, and our Powers;
O for a Blifs. unbounded! Far beneath
Reason progressive, Instinal is complete ;