which supply the diaphragm. How the mind may be affected, in instances of this kind, it is not easy,perhaps it is impossible-to trace.

That spirit may exist without matter is as certain, as that matter may exist without spirit, after it has been once created. We lose our legs and our arms, and yet the mind is as perfect as before. Thus is it with our intelligence. We may lose our memory, our powers of discrimination, and, in fact, labour under the most abject mental imbecility, yet the vigour of the body remain firm and unimpaired: while with'out the body's exercise, the mind is capable of feeling all the intermediate sensations, arising from love and hope, from hatred and from fear.

That the soul can exist without what we call matter, the soul, by its own properties, has the power to convince us, in the same manner, as the eye has the power of estimating the height, width, and colour of the body. The soul tells this great secret by its dread of annihilation; by its eager thirst for sublunary fame; by its conscious superiority over the body; its almost unlimited power of acquiring knowledge; its love of justice and honour, and every nobler virtue; its ardent desire of perfection; its persuasion, that matter exists not for itself; and by that restless activity, which is continually pointing at something beyond the limit of its fortune. For as planets gravitate by a secret impulse to each other; reasoning by analogy, which, in a case like this, is an unerring guide, so does the soul gravitate towards an union with something, partaking of a divine

quality :-for, as Mons. Hemsterhuis would say, a single aspiration of the soul, towards something nobler and far better than itself, forms greater ground for a conviction of its immortality, than the clearest mathematical demonstration. The hope of immortality seems, indeed, to be a reminiscence of heaven. We see nothing in Nature superior to MAN; and nothing in man superior to the MIND; which glances over the universe, as it were, by magic, and plans in moments what the body executes in years. Indeed the mind of man surpasses every object, we discern in nature: and more difficult was it to form, that even the sun itself! It is no wonder, therefore, that the secret of its elements should still baffle the ingenuity and research of the best metaphysicians. From Aristotle, down to Locke and Berkeley, Reid, and Stewart,— all is conjecture!

X.

Is it not natural to conclude that that, which is the most excellent in quality, and which is the longest in arriving at maturity, should, also, when it has arrived at perfection, be of the longest continuance ? Is it consistent with common sense, that matter should have a longer life than spirit, which gives activity to matter? If we possess two substances, one of which gives us more pleasure in the possession than the other, do we not prefer the one, which is the more excellent, to that which is less so? If we possess a diamond in a casket, shall we keep the casket, and throw away the diamond?-And shall not the Deity

reward himself by preserving that portion of his works, which most partakes of his own essence? Would he not, were he to act contrary to this rule, be committing a kind of suicide on his own excellence? Can eternal wisdom act without a definite and honourable purpose? No!-The consciousness of a truth like this is the stamen of immortality.-Shall St. Peter's live, and Angelo, its architect, cease to live ?-As well may we suppose, that there are no natural causes for attraction; or that the universe would be capable of organic harmony, if the architect, who created it, and who alone is capable of turning space into infinity, and time into eternity, no longer consented to exist. Yes, my friend, St. Peter's still remains unmoved, it is true, while Angelo is reported to be dead. BUT TO THE WORLD ONLY IS HE DEAD. Angelo-the great, the sublime Angelo,-will continue to exist, when St. Peter's has mouldered away, like the dust of its own monuments. In prosperity, my Lelius, let this reflection chide the spirit of presumption;-in adversity, permit it to check every feeling of impatience, by acting as a nepenthe to a wounded spirit.

XI.

To many men life is a dream so perturbed, that immortality is absolutely necessary to the consummation of that justice, of which men have so great a love and admiration. And shall men love justice more than the Eternal? Marcus Aurelius Antoninus said of the soul, that it was a God in exile. Shall a being, so

capable of association with the Divinity, sink into nothing? We esteem it a misfortune to have lost an excellent friend; but every thing passes away; and you, my Lelius, in health, and in the bloom of your life, will soon follow. But the grave has an illumination even more transcendant than that of the sun itself. That luminary, too, presents an analogy to our reasoning. It shines upon a wilderness with the same pleasure, that it shines upon the vales of Italy, or the plains of Greece: and in the same moment, that it presents to our vision the magnificence of evening, to that of others it exhibits all the glories of morning. These analogies apply to that hope and conviction of immortality, which is the best of those flowers, which, in consequence of our folly, now only spring up, in detached groups, along the journey of life.

Atheists are the vainest and most arrogant of men : -for imagining the arguments, they employ, to be the most perfect of all possible demonstrations,

In quick and premature decay,

They breathe the fragrance of their minds away.

Curious is it to observe, how incredulous men are in some things; and how extravagantly—nay, how miraculously,-credulous they are in others! Some men turn atheists from wantonness; but perhaps the greater number, because life and Nature are two enigmas, they are utterly unable to solve. When they witness a tragedy, however, they are content to defer all opinion in respect to its propriety, till the action is turned, the plot unravelled, and the whole

concluded. Wise men have the same respect for the Deity, that atheists have for poets. As to their opinion of death,—like many philosophists of old, Atheists live in the perpetual dread of that, which they are continually teaching other persons not to fear.

One of the most distinguishing parts of an atheist's character is CONCEIT! Wearing the "semblance, not the substance" of reason, he resembles those fruits, which the gardener instructs to assume the figures of animals, by merely placing them in moulds of clay, at the time of growing. Being as impenetrable, at the same time, as a stone, which is neither malleable, nor soluble. Atheists, in consequence, can no more be reasoned out of their vain mental importance, than hideous women can be talked out of their beauty. A fit of illness, however, works strange wonders!

O the good gods,

How blind is pride!-What eagles we are still

In matters, that belong to other men,

What beetles in our own!—

. XII.

Inoculated with arrogance, the atheist sees every object superficially:-bewildered, the present is all pain; the past was all calamity;-the future is all despair. A solitary being in this wilderness of beauty, he sits, like the Titans of Hesiod, in melancholy state, lost to every comfort!

His delights resemble those of the misanthrope, who amused the hours of his disgust in studying the anatomical mechanism of hornets' stings. For while the Mahometan turns to the south in the moments of