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on my fide already? It closes with my conscience. Its feverest strokes but second my own.” Observing that his friend was much touched at this, even to tears, (who could forbear? I could not) with a most affectionate look, he said, " Keep those tears for thyself. I have undone thee. Dost thou weep for me? that is cruel. What can pain me more ?"

Here his friend, too much affected, would have left him.-" No, ftay-thou still mayest hope ; therefore hear me. How madly have I talked ! how madly halt thou listened and believed ! but look on my present state, as a full answer to thee, and to myself. This body is all weakness and pain ; but my foul, as if Aung up by torment to greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to reason : full mighty to fuffer. And that which thus triumphs within the jaws of immortality, is doubtless immortal-And, as for a Deity, nothing less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel."

I was about to congratulate this pailive, involuntary confeffor, on his afferting the two prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature, when he thus, very passionately exclaimed :-"No : no! let me speak on, I have not long to speak.--My much injured friend ! my soul, as my body, lies in ruins ; in fcattered fragments of broken thought-Remorse for the past, throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future, strikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Didit thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou would it Itruggle with the martyr for his stake ; and bless Heaven for the flames !--that is not an everlasting flame ; that is not an unquenchable fire."

How were we struck ! yet soon after, fill more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face of despair, he cried out! “ My principles have poisoned my friend ; my extravagance has beggared my boy! my unkindness has murdered my wife ! and is there another hell ? Oh, thou blafphemed, yet indulgent LORD GOD! Hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown !” Soon after his un. derfanding failed. His terrified imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or ever forgotten. And ere the -sun, (which, I hope, has seen few like him) arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched Altamont, expired!

If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of pain ? ! quick, how total, is the transit of such persons ! In a ilave, dismal gloom they set forever! How short, alas ! the day of their rejoicing -For a moment they glitter-they dazzle ! In a moinent, where are they? Oblivion covers their memories. Ah! would it did ! Infamy snatches them from oblivion. In the long living annals of infamy, their triumphs are recorded. Thy sufferings, poor Altamont ! dill bleed in the bosom of the heart Itricken friend-for Altamont had a friend. He might have had many. His transient morning might have been the dawn of an immortal day. His name might have been gloriously enrolled in the records of eternity. His memory might have left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving friend, falutary to the succeeding generation. With what capacity was he endowed ? With what advantages for being greatly good! But, with the talents of an angel, a man may be a fool. If he judges amiss in the supreme point, judging right in all elle, but aggravates his folly; as it shows him wrong, though blessed with the best capacity of being right.

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DR. YOUNG,

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CHAP. VII.

DIALOGUE S.

SECTION I. DEMOCRITUS AND HERACLITUS.* The Vices and Follies of Men should excite Compaffion rather than

Ridicule. Democritus. I find it impossible to reconcile myself to a melancholy philosophy.

Heraclitus. And I am equally unable to approve of that vain philosophy, which teaches men to despise and ridicule one another. To a wise and feeling mind, the world appears in a wretched and painful light.

Dem. Thou art too much affected with the state of . things, and this is a source of misery to thee.

Her, And I think thou art too little moved by it. Thy mirth and ridicule bespeak the buffoon, rather than he philosopher. Does it not excite thy compaflion, to see

nkind so frail, so blind, so far departed from the rules of

pocritus and Heraclitus were two ancient philosophers, the

whom laughed, and the latter wept, at the errors and nankind.

17

on my fide already? It closes with my conscience. Its feverest strokes but second my own.” Observing that his friend was much touched at this, even to tears, (who could forbear? I could not) with a most affectionate look, he said, “ Keep those tears for thyself. I have undone thee. Dort thou weep

for me? that is cruel. What can pain me more ?” Here his friend, too much affected, would have left him.-“ No, ftay-thou still mayest hope ; therefore hear me. How madly have I talked ! how madly halt thou listened and believed ! but look on my present state, as a full answer to thee, and to myself. This body is all weakness and pain ; but my foul, as if Aung up by tornent to greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to reason: full mighty to suffer. And that which thus triumphs within the jaws of immortality, is doubtless immortal-And, as for a Deity, nothing less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel."

I was about to congratulate this pailve, involuntary confeffor, on his asserting the two prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature, when he thus, very passionately exclaimed :-"No : no! let me speak on, I have not long to speak.--My much injured friend ! my foul, as my body, lies in ruins ; in fcattered fragments of broken thought-Remorfe for the past, throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future, Atrikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Didít thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou wouldīt Itruggle with the martyr for his stake ; and bless Heaven for the flames !-that is not an everlasting fame ; that is. not an unquenchable fire."

How were we struck ! yet foon after, fill more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face of despair, he cried

My principles have poisoned my friend ; my exIravagance has beggared my boy ! my unkindness has murdered my wife and is there another hell ? Oh, thou blafphemed, yet indulgent LORD GOD! Hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown !". Soon after his un. derlianding failed. His terrified imagination uttered hor. rors not to be repeated, or ever forgotten. And ere the fun, (which, I hope, has seen few like him) arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched Altamont, expired!

If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of pain ? ** quick, how total, is the transit of such persons ! In lave,

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dismal gloom they set forever! How short, alas ! the day of their rejoicing -For a moment they glitter-they dazzle ! In a moinent, where are they? Oblivion covers their memories. Ah! would it did ! Infamy snatches them from oblivion. In the long living annals of infamy, their triumphs are recorded. Thy sufferings, poor Altamont ! Atill bleed in the bofom of the heart Itricken friend-for Altamont had a friend. He might have had many. His transient morning might have been the dawn of an immortal day. His name might have been gloriously enrolled in the records of eternity. His memory might have left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving friend, falutary to the succeeding generation. With what capacitự was he endowed ? With what advantages for being greatly good! But, with the talents of an angel, a man may be a fool. If he judges amiss in the fupreme point, judging right in all elle, but aggravates his folly; as it Ihows him wrong, though blessed with the best capacity of being right.

[graphic]

DR. YOUNG,

CHAP. VII.

DIALOGUE S.

SECTION I.

DEMOCRITUS AND HERACLITUS.* The Vices and Follies of Men should excite Compaffion rather than

Ridicule. Democritus. I FIND it impossible to reconcile myself to a melancholy philosophy.

Heraclitus. And I am equally unable to approve of that vain philosophy, which teaches men to despise and ridicule one another. To a wise and feeling mind, the world appears in a wretched and painful light.

Dem. Thou art too much affected with the fate of . things, and this is a source of misery to thee.

Her, And I think thou art too little moved by it. Thy mirth and ridicule bespeak the buffoon, rather than he philosopher. Does it not excite thy compassion, to see 'n kind fo frail, so blind, so far departed from the rules of

? Locritus and Heraclitus were two ancient philosophers, tlie

whom laughed, and the latter wept, at the errors ?! hanisind.

Dem. I am excited to laughter, when I see so much impertinence and folly.

Her. And yet, after all, they who are the objects of thy ridicule, include not only mankind in general, but the persons with whom thou livest, thy friends, thy family, nay, even thyself.

Dem. I care very little for all the filly persons I neet with : and think I am juftifiable in diverting myself with their folly.

Her. If they are weak and foolish, it marks neither wifdom nor humanity, to insult rather than pity them : But is it certain, that thou art not as extravagant as they are ?

Dem. I presume that I am not : lince, in every point, my sentiments are the very reverse of theirs.

Her. There are follies of different kinds. By constantly amusing thyself with the errors and misconduct of others, thou mayest render thyself equally ridiculous and culpable.

Dem. Thou art at liberty to indulge such sentiments ; and to weep over me too, if thou hast any tears to spare. For my part, I cannot refrain from pleasing myself with the levities and ill conduct of the world about me. Are not all men foolish or irregular in their lives?

Her. Alas! there is but too much reason to believe, they are fo: and on this ground, I pity and deplore their condition. We agree in this point, that men do not conduct themselves according to reasonable and just principles : but I, who do not suffer myself to act as they do, must yet regard the dictates of my understanding and feelings, which compel me to love them ; and that love fills me with com. paflion for their mistakes and irregularities. Canst thou condemn me for pitying my own species, my brethren, perfons born in the same condition of life, and destined to the fame hopes and privileges ? If thou shouldelt enter a hospital, where sick and wounded persons refide, would their wounds and distresses excite thy mirth ? And yet, the evils of the body bear no comparison with those of the mind. Thou wouldnt certainly blush at thy barbarity, if thou hadit been to unfeeling, as to laugh at or despise a miserable being who had lost one of his legs : and yet thou art so destitute of humanity, as to ridicule those, who appear TM be deprived of the noble powers of the understanding, the little regard which they pay to its dictates.

Dem. He who haft lolt a leg is to be pitied, be lofs is not be imputed to himself: but he who

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