The dreadful secret-that he lives for ever."

Still he urges his point to Lorenzo, in the most forcible

manner, saying to him,

"Still seems it strange, that thou should'st live for ever?

Is it less strange, that thou should'st live at all?

This is a miracle; and that no more.

Who gave beginning can exclude an end.

Deny thou art; then doubt if thou shalt be."

"What less than miracles from God can flow?
Admit a God-that mystery supreme!

That cause uncaus'd! all other wonders cease;
Deny him—all is mystery besides.

Millions of mysteries! each darker far

Than that thy wisdom would, unwisely, shun.

If weak thy faith, why choose the harder side?
We nothing know, but what is marvellous;

Yet what is marvellous we can't believe."

This is not exactly true, if what is said of the credulity of infidels is true-they "believe," only to "tremble"-superstitious, not religious, their fears.

"Give the sceptics in their heads the lie."

"So weak our reason, and so great our God,
What most surprises in the sacred page,
Or full as strange, or stranger, must be true:
Faith is not reason's labour, but repose."

The poet then exhorts Lorenzo

"To be a man, and strive to be a God;"

(in being a Christian.)

"For what' (thou say'st)' to damp the joys of life?' No-to give heart and substance to thy joys."

Speaking of hope,

"Rich hope of boundless bliss!

Bliss, past man's power to paint it, time's to close!"

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He says,

'Hope, like a cordial, innocent, though strong,

Man's heart, at once, inspirits and serenes,

(as sedatives do.)

Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys," &c. &c. [Hope, to be effectual, must be founded in reason.]

The poet ends one of his trains of reasoning with this just, and not audacious conclusion, that

"If man's immortal, there's a God in heaven."

For if man is not to expect immortality from a God who will grant what he has promised, on terms that are consistent with all his attributes, it signifies little to man whether he exists or not. That there is a God, and that man is immortal, whether in happiness or misery, as he deserves, are therefore correlative truths.

The poet then ends with,

"A blest hereafter then, or hop'd, or gain'd,

Is all-our whole of happiness; full proof

I chose no trivial or inglorious theme."

"If there is weight in an eternity,

Let the grave listen ;-and be graver still."

NIGHT THE EIGHTH.

HAVING enumerated the evils and errors of the world in this Night, he thus addresses himself to the Supreme Being.

"O Thou! who dost permit these ills to fall

For gracious ends, and would'st that man should mourn ; O Thou, whose hands this goodly fabric fram'd,

Who know'st it best, and would'st that man should know!
What is this sublunary world? a vapour

From the damp bed of chaos, by thy beam
Exhal'd, ordain'd to swim its destin'd hour
In ambient air, then melt, and disappear.
Earth's days are number'd, nor remote her doom:
As mortal, though less transient, than her sons;
Yet they doat on her, as the world and they
Were both eternal, solid; Thou, a dream."

[To those only who give their waking thoughts to the world.] The " Night Thoughts" have been called " angry and gloomy," ," because they show a disposition to see human follies and vices without sparing them in the representation, by one whose mind was in some degree soured by misfortunes, and strongly impressed with a sense of the necessity of making a life that must be transitory, and may be short, a "means" of preparing us for a life to come, which will be eternally happy or miserable, according to our fulfilment or neglect of the duties of this. What those duties are, we are told in the injunction given us, to "do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God." These comprehend a great deal, especially the first, for the demands of justice are various and extensive. As to the idea of a "short life and a merry

one," or of "strewing over with flowers," what is a passage at best," they are only, as Mrs. Barbauld calls them, agreeable nonsense, or at least, levity; for thorns will spring up in the midst of these flowers, and the course of mirth will be interrupted by sadness, unless it is supported by a selfish insensibility, either to the joys or sorrows of our fellow-creatures, or, perhaps, by dissimulation, which will not long deceive. And this insensibility will make us as indifferent to the characters of others, as careless of preserving the real goodness of our own. That preservation can alone secure to us the satisfaction of "the stern monitor within us," our conscience, which can only be maintained by following the dictates of it and our reason. If we disregard both, we shall probably be looked upon as knaves and fools. Error is common to man, but a more than ordinary degree of it will deprive us of that general excuse for it, as it must then be a defect of the head or heart, or perhaps of both, and the mischief it will do will be in proportion to the truth of the proverb, that “ one fool (or knave) makes many;" so tempting are the ways of folly and vice to those who are apt to imitate the examples of whoever they associate with. This is what Young calls "the infection of the world," against which we must either carry our own antidote, or seek it in the society of those who are free from the poison; and health (moral health) may be communicated as well as disease. By a due regimen in the main.. tenance of it, we shall

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Bring back at eve, Immaculate, the manners of the morn."

Nay, more, we shall add to their purity; the stains we see in others, we shall not be defiled with ourselves, for we shall have that within us, which will prevent our imbibing them, and favour our acquisition of the better qualities of others. We shall enjoy that internal sunshine, which we see and enjoy

from without, and which gives us a foretaste of the heaven which will

"Be given above, for heaven enjoy'd below."

The poet then makes an address to the "ocean," with his equal display of imagination, and connects it with an appeal to Lorenzo's feelings, in his mention of his young "Florello," left him as a care succeeding to poor Clarissa's throes," and as a trial how far

"A father's heart

Is tender, though the man's is made of stone."

[How far he is susceptible of parental, though not of religious feelings.]

And he draws an interesting picture of the "heedless child," and of the dangers he is to undergo at his "reception into public life," surrounded as he will be

"By friends eternal, during interest;

By foes implacable, when worth their while."

Open as his ingenuous disposition will make him to their attacks; with various other dangers that attend the course of his life, in which,

"If less than heavenly virtue is his guard,
Soon a strange kind of curst necessity
Brings down the sterling temper of his soul,
By base alloy, to bear the current stamp,
Below call'd wisdom; sinks him into safety;
And brands him into credit with the world,
Where specious titles dignify disgrace,

And nature's injuries are arts of life;

Where brighter reason prompts to bolder crimes;