Sensible Appearances affect most men much more than abstract reasonings; and we daily fee Bodies drop around us, but the Soul is invifible. The power which Inclination has over the Judgment, is greater than can be well conceived by thofe that have not had an experience of it; ard of what numbers is it the fad intereft, that fouls fhould not furvive! The Heathen world confefs'd, that they rather Hoped than firmly Believed immortality; and how many Heathens have we still amongst us? The fa cred page affures us, that life and immortality is brought to light by the gospel: but by how many is the gospel rejected, or overlook'd! From thefe confiderations, and from my being, accidently, privy to the fentiments of fome particular perfons, I have been long perfuaded, that moft, if not all, our Infidels (whatever name the take, and whatever scheme for argument's fake, and to keep themselves in countenance they patronize) are fupported in their deplorable error, by fome doubt of their Immortality, at the bottom. And I am fatisfied, that men once thoroughly convinced of their immortality, are not far from being Chriftians. For it is hard to conceive, that a man fully conscious eternal pain or happinefs will certainly be his lot, thould not earnestly' and impartially, inquire after the fureft means of escaping the one, and fecuring the other. And of such an earnest and impartial enquiry, I well know the confequence. Here, therefore, in proof of this moft fundamental truth, fome p'ain arguments are offer'd; arguments derived from principles which infidels admit in common with believers; arguments, which appear to me altogether irrefiftible; and fuch as I am fatisfied will have great weight with all who give themselves the small trouble of looking seriously into their own bofoms, and of obferving, without any tolerable degree of attention, what daily paffes, round about them in the world. If fome arguments fhall, Here, occur, which others have declined, they are fubmitted, with all deference, to better judgments in this, of all points, the Moft important. For, as to the being of a God, that is ro longer difputed; but it is undifputed, for this reafon only, viz. becaufe, where the leaft pretence to reason is admitted, it must for ever be indisputable. And, of confequence, no man can he betray'd into a dispute of that nature by Vanity, which has a principal fhare in animating our modern combatants against other articles of our belief. SH HE (for I know not yet her name in heaven) O the long, dark approach thro' years of pain, How oft I saw her dead, while yet in fmiles! * Referring to Night the Fifth, Lefs dread the day that drove me to the brink, When my foul fhudder'd at futurity ; When, on a moment's point, th' important dye But why more woe? more comfort let it be. Nothing is dead, but that which with'd to die; Nothing is dead, but wretchedness and pain;Nothing is dead, but what encumber'd, gail'd, Bleck'd up the pafs, and barr'd from Real life. Where dwells THAT with moft ardent of the wife? Too dark the fun to fee it; highest stars Too low to reach it; DEATH, great DEATH alone,. O'er ftars and fan triumphant, lands us there. Nor dreadful our Tranfition; tho' the mind. Rich in expedients for inquietude, Who can take Death's portrait true? the tyrant never SAT. But grant the worst; 'tis paft; new profpects rife; And drop a veil eternal o'er her tomb. Far other views our comtemplation claim, Thy Nature, immortallity? who knows? In Stygian die, how Black, how Brittle here ! By more than feeble FAITH on the Supreme! The plan, and execution, to collate ! To fee, before each glance of peircing thought, From darkness, and from duft, to SUCH a fcene! From earth's fad contraft (now deplor'd) more fa!r What exquifite viciffitude of fate! Bleft abfolution of our blackest hour! Lorenzo! these are thoughts that make man man, The wife illumine, aggrandize the great, How great (while yet we tread the kindred clod, And ev'ry moment fear to fink beneath The clod we tread; fon trodden by our fons) How great, in the wild whirl of TIME's pursuits To ftop, and paufe, involv'd in high presage Through the long vifto of a thousand years, To ftand contemplating our diftant selves, As in a magnifying mirror feen, Enlarg'd, ennobled, elevate divine! To prophefy our own futurities! To gaze in thought on what all thought trar fcends! As far beyond conception, as defert, Ourselves th' aftonish'd talkers, and the tale! How Juft our pride, when we behold THOSE heights! Wrapt up in fleecy cloud, and fine-fpun air? As on this theme, which angels praife, and fhare ? What periodic potions for the fick ! Distemper'd bodies! and diftemper'd minds! |