to be rendered after death; and that those who professed philosophy would disbelieve this as a vulgar delusion, live therefore without religion, and die without hope, like the beasts that perish! "If they perish," the Doctor used always reverently to say when he talked upon this subject. O Reader, it would have done you good as it has done me, if you had heard him speak upon it, in his own beautiful old age! "If they perish," he would say. "That the beasts die without hope we may conclude; death being to them like falling asleep, an act of which the mind is not cognisant! But that they live without religion, he would not say, that they might not have some sense of it according to their kind; nor that all things animate, and seem Lord, as they are called upon to do by the "As usurers," says Bishop Reynolds, "be-ingly inanimate, did not actually praise the fore the whole debt is paid, do fetch away some good parts of it for the loan, so before the debt of death be paid by the whole body, old age doth by little and little take away sometimes one sense, sometimes another; this year one limb, the next another; and causeth a man as it were to die daily. No one can dispel the clouds and sorrows of old age, but Christ, who is the sun of righteousness and the bright morning star." Yet our Lord and Saviour hath not left those who are in darkness and the shadow of death, without the light of a heavenly hope at their departure, if their ways have not wilfully been evil,-if they have done their duty according to that law of nature which is written in the heart of man. It is the pride of presumptuous wisdom (itself the worst of follies) that has robbed the natural man of his consolation in old age, and of his hope in death, and exacts the forfeit of that hope from the infidel as the consequence and punishment of his sin. Thus it was in heathen times, as it now is in countries that are called christian. When Cicero speaks of those things which depend upon opinion, he says, hujusmodi sunt probabilia; impiis apud inferos pænas esse præz iratas; eos, qui philosophia dent operam, non arbitrari Deos esse. Hence it appears he regarded it as equally probable that there was an account It is a pious fancy of the good old lexicographist Adam Littleton that our Lord took up his first lodging in a stable amongst the cattle, as if he had come to be the Saviour of them as well as of men; being, by one perfect oblation of himself, to put an end to all other sacrifices, as well as to take away sins. This, he adds, the Psalmist fears not to affirm, speaking of God's mercy. "Thou savest," says he, "both man and beast." The text may lead us further than Adam Littleton's interpretation. Qu'on ne me parle plus de NATURE MORTE, says M. de Custine, in his youth and enthusiasm, writing from Mont-Auvert; on sent ici que la Divinité est partout, et que les pierres sont pénétrées comme nous-mêmes d'une puissance créatrice! Quand on me dit que les rochers sont insensibles, je crois entendre un enfant soutenir que l'aiguille d'une montre ne marche pas, parce qu'il ne la voit pas se mouvoir. Do not, said our Philosopher, when he threw out a thought like this, do not ask me how this can be! I guess at everything, and can account for nothing. It is more comprehensible to me that stocks and stones should have a sense of devotion, than that men should be without it. I could much more easily persuade myself that the birds in the air and the beasts in the field have souls to be saved, than I can believe that very many of my fellow bipeds have any more soul than, as some of our divines have said, serves to keep their bodies from putrefaction. "God forgive me, worm that I am! for the sinful thought of which I am too often conscious, that of the greater part of the human race, the souls are not worth saving!" -I have not forgotten the look which accompanied these words, and the tone in which he uttered them, dropping his voice toward the close. "We must of necessity," said he, "become better or worse as we advance in years. Unless we endeavour to spiritualise our selves, and supplicate in this endeavour for that Grace which is never withheld when it is sincerely and earnestly sought, age bodilises us more and more, and the older we grow the more we are embruted and debased: so manifestly is the awful text verified which warns us that 'unto every one which hath shall be given, and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall be taken away from him.' In some the soul seems gradually to be absorbed and extinguished in its crust of clay; in others as if it purified and sublimed the vehicle to which it was united. Viget animus, et gaudet non multum sibi esse cum corpore; magnam oneris partem sui posuit.* Nothing therefore is more beautiful than a wise and religious old age; nothing so pitiable as the latter stages of mortal existence when the World and the Flesh, and that false philosophy which is of the Devil, have secured the victory for the Grave!" "He that hath led a holy life," says one of our old Bishops, "is like a man which hath travelled over a beautiful valley, and being on the top of a hill, turneth about with delight, to take a view of it again." The retrospect is delightful, and perhaps it is even more grateful if his journey has been by a rough and difficult way. But whatever may have been his fortune on the road, the Pilgrim who has reached the Delectable * SENECA. | Mountains looks back with thankfulness and forward with delight. And wherefore is it not always thus ? Wherefore, but because, as Wordsworth has said, The World is too much with us, late and soon Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers. "Though our own eyes," says Sir Walter Raleigh, “do every where behold the sudden and resistless assaults of Death, and Nature assureth us by never failing experience, and Reason by infallible demonstration, that our times upon the earth have neither certainty nor durability, that our bodies are but the anvils of pain and diseases, and our minds the hives of unnumbered cares, sorrows and passions; and that when we are most glorified, we are but those painted posts against which Envy and Fortune direct their darts; yet such is the true unhappiness of our condition, and the dark ignorance which covereth the eyes of our understanding, that we only prize, pamper, and exalt this vassal and slave of death, and forget altogether, or only remember at our cast-away leisure, the imprisoned immortal Soul, which can neither die with the reprobate, nor perish with the mortal parts of virtuous men; seeing God's justice in the one, and his goodness in the other, is exercised for evermore, as the everliving subjects of his reward and punishment. But when is it that we examine this great account? Never, while we have one vanity left us to spend! We plead for titles till our breath fail us; dig for riches whilst our strength enableth us; exercise malice while we can revenge; and then when time hath beaten from us both youth, pleasure and health, and that Nature itself hateth the house of Old Age, we remember with Job that we must go the way from whence we shall not return, and that our bed is made ready for us in the dark.' And then I say, looking over-late into the bottom of our conscience, which Pleasure and Ambition had locked up from us all our lives, we behold therein the fearful images of our actions past, and withal this terrible inscription that 'God will bring every work into judgement that man hath done under the Sun.' "But what examples have ever moved us? what persuasions reformed us? or what threatenings made us afraid? We behold other men's tragedies played before us; we hear what is promised and threatened; but the world's bright glory hath put out the eyes of our minds; and these betraying lights, with which we only see do neither look up towards termless joys, nor down towards endless sorrows, till we neither know, nor can look for anything else at the world's hands. But let us not flatter our immortal Souls herein! For to neglect God all our lives, and know that we neglect Him; to offend God voluntarily, and know that we offend Him, casting our hopes on the peace which we trust to make at parting, is no other than a rebellious presumption, and that which is the worst of all, even a contemptuous laughing to scorn and deriding of God, his laws and precepts. Frustrà sperant qui sic de misericordiâ Dei sibi blan- | diuntur; they hope in vain, saith Bernard, which in this sort flatter themselves with God's mercy." beautiful emblem of the immortality of the Soul, my true philosopher and friend looked, in like manner, upon the chrysalis as a type of old age. The gradual impairment of the senses and of the bodily powers, and the diminution of the whole frame as it shrinks and contracts itself in age, afforded analogy enough for a mind like his to work on, which quickly apprehended remote similitudes and delighted in remarking them. The sense of flying in our sleep might probably, he thought, be the anticipation or forefeeling of an unevolved power, like an aurelia's dream of butterfly motion. * The tadpole has no intermediate state of torpor. This merriest of all creatures, if mirth may be measured by motion, puts out legs before it discards its tail and commences frog. It was not in our outward frame that the Doctor could discern any resemblance to this process; but he found it in that expansion of the intellectual faculties, those aspirations of the spiritual part, wherein the Soul seems to feel its wings and to imp them for future flight. One has always something for which to look forward, some change for the better. The boy in petticoats longs to be dressed in the masculine gender. Little boys wish to be big ones. In youth we are eager to attain manhood, and in manhood matrimony becomes the next natural step of our desires. "Days then should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom;" and teach it they will, if man will but learn; for nature brings the heart into a state for receiving it. Jucundissima est ætas devexa jam, non tamen præceps; et illam quoque in extremâ regulâ stantem, judico habere suas voluptates; aut hoc ipsum succedit in locum voluptatum, nullis egere. Quam dulce est cupiditates a strange conceit, imputing to the decay of fatigasse ac reliquisse !† This was not Dr. our nature that which results from its maturation.* As the ancients found in the butterfly a Dove's philosophy: he thought the stage of senescence a happy one, not because we outgrow the desires and enjoyments of youth and manhood, but because wiser desires, more permanent enjoyments, and holier hopes succeed to them,- because time in its course ↑ SENECA. brings us nearer to eternity, and as earth recedes Heaven opens upon our prospect. "It is the will of God and nature," says Franklin, "that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why, then, should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or in doing good to our fellowcreatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an encumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent, that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way." God," says Fuller, "sends his servants to bed when they have done their work." This is a subject upon which even Sir Richard Blackmore could write with a poet's feeling. Thou dost, O Death, a peaceful harbour lie Where the rough waves of Time's impetuous tide Thou dost to man unfeigned compassion show, Thy subterranean hospitals receive, Much has been omitted which may be found in the original, and one couplet removed from its place; but the whole is Blackmore's. CHAPTER CLXXXVI. LEONE HEBREO'S DIALOGI DE AMORE. THE There's a lean fellow beats all conquerors ! IN Leone Hebreo's Dialogi de Amore, one perda; se ben naturalmente è impossibile. chel desiderio di ciò è talmente lento, che può essere di cosa impossibile et imaginabile, essendo di tanta importantia al desiderante Et ancora ti dirò chel fondamento di questo desiderio non è vano in se, se bene è alquanto ingannoso, però chel desiderio dell' huomo d'essere immortale è veramente possibile, perche l' esentia dell' huomo, (come rettamente Platon vuole,) non è altro che la sua anima intellettiva, laquale per la virtu, sapientia, cognitione, et amore divino si fa gloriosa et | immortale. Paracelsus used to boast that he would not die till he thought proper so to do; thus wishing it to be understood that he had discovered the Elixir of life. He died suddenly, and at a time when he seemed to be in full health; and hence arose a report, that he had made a compact with the Devil, who enabled him to perform all his cures, but came for him as soon as the term of their agreement was up. lead dissolute lives." And if it be asked why no one, except Hermes Trismegistus, has used such medicaments; he replies that others have used them, but have not let it be known. Van Helmont was once of opinion that no metallic preparation could contain in itself the blessing of the Tree of Life, though that the Philosopher's stone had been discovered was a fact that consisted with his own sure knowledge. This opinion, however, was in part changed, in consequence of some experiments made with an aurific powder, given him by a stranger after a single evening's acquaintance; (vir peregrinus, unius vesperi amicus :) these experiments convinced him that the stone partook of what he calls Zoophyte life, as distinguished both from vegetative and sensitive. But the true secret, he thought, must be derived from the vegetable world, and he sought for it in the Cedar, induced, as it seems, by the frequent mention of that tree in the Old Testament. He says much concerning the Wherefore indeed should he have died by cedar, any natural means who so well understood❘ the mysteries of life and of death? What, says he, is life? Nihil meherclè vita est aliud, nisi Mumia quædam Balsamita conservans mortale corpus à mortalibus vermibus, et eschara cum impressâ liquoris salium commistura. What is Death? Nihil certe aliud quam Balsami dominium, Mumia interitus, salium ultima materia. Do you understand this, Reader? If you do, I do not. -- But he is intelligible when he tells us that Life may be likened to Fire, and that all we want is to discover the fuel for keeping it up, - the true Lignum Vitæ. "It is not against nature," he contends, "that we should live till the renovation of all things; it is only against our knowledge, and beyond it. But there are medicaments for prolonging life; and none but the foolish or the ignorant would ask why then is it that Princes and Kings who can afford to purchase them, die nevertheless like other people." "The reason," says the great Bombast von Hohenheim, "is, that their physicians know less about medicine than the very boors, and moreover that Princes and Kings among other things, that when all other plants were destroyed by the Deluge, and their kinds preserved only in their seed, the Cedars of Lebanon remained uninjured under the waters. However, when he comes to the main point, he makes a full stop, saying, Cætera autem quæ de Cedro sunt mecum sepelientur: nam mundus non capax est. It is not unlikely that if his mysticism had been expressed in the language of intelligible speculation, it might have been found to accord with some of Berkeley's theories in the Siris. But for his reticence upon this subject, as if the world were not worthy of his discoveries, he ought to have been deprived of his two remaining talents. Five, he tells us, he had received for his portion, but because instead of improving them he had shown himself unworthy of so large a trust, he by whom they were given had taken from him three. Ago illi gratias, quod cum contulisset in me quinque talenta, fecissemque me indignum, et hactenus repudium coram eo factus essem, placuit divinæ bonitati, auferre à me tria, et relinquere adhuc bina, ut me sic ad meliorem frugem exspectaret. Maluit, inquam, me depauperare et tolerare, ut |