will for that purpose; and he actually foretold, and so did Plato, that a divine person would be sent into the world for that important end. Like Socrates, the great, the admirable Cicero knew that the popular religion was false, but believed it to be a corruption of that which was true. They are therefore by no means examples of natural religion, but are rather proofs that the most shining abilities, the deepest researches of thought, are insufficient, without that wisdom which cometh from above. That word of salvation, which they wanted, has been granted to us. Let us embrace it with joy; let us abide in it with thankfulness. I am, &c. P. M. SIR, I CAN hardly expect that you will admit such fragments as the following: yet as they contain some undisguised delineations of the mind--Yet even in this respect I cannot suppose that they are worthy of your notice!-I entreat therefore your forgiveness for this intrusion. I am, sir, Your obedient servant H. F. A. LETTER from..... to. "...... Castle, Scotland, Oct. 6, 1812. ... Yes, you may give another dinner to...... and .............. but I will not be present I will not leave the country, the fields, woods and rivers, for any reasoning or persuasions, (even though you should urge your proposal with all the eloquence of Demosthenes) for at least three weeks to come. Give another dinner; spare neither wine nor venison, nor promises and apologies, which you so well know how to introduce. You know I have promised to do every thing in my power.... and every thing I will do, except giving my personal attendance at present. Laugh at me as you please, call it obstinacy, effeminacy, self-indulgence, what you will, you will at least however admit that my resolution carries a shadow of reason along with it, when I tell you that I am too ill at present, too feverish and too feeble, and altogether too nearly dead already, to admit of my acceding to your plans, without not only the risk, but the certainty, of incurring absolute death in consequence; and I am not inclined to sacrifice life in such a cause were it not for this consideration, I should say, it matters little what I do. When the means of enjoyment are departed, when I live no longer either for society or solitude, when I cease to derive any satisfaction from study or from the charms of rural scenery, I ought not to wish for a prolongation of so useless an existence. But if any method can restore my health, and what is of all considerations to me the most important, my own self-approbation, it is exactly that mode of life to which you have so absurdly ascribed my disYou tax me with my folly in absenting myself at such a juncture; and tell me that I have already been three days in the country, during ease. which time I have become visibly more depressed and more useless both to myself and others. Very true; I have indeed spent three days of misery. I have breathed the warm and fragrant breezes; I have beheld the glories of the landscape; and I have basked in the bright sunbeams; yet, my depression of spirit, my feebleness of frame, have remained unaltered; the torments of hell are within me. Yet if aught can ever restore me to self-possession, it must be pursuing uninterruptedly awhile my solitary path. ..... You offer to come, in order to rouse my spirits, and bring....and..... By Heaven, if you do, you will drive me from hence indeed, but not to I will go where shall not easily discover you my retreat. Had it not been for the days and nights I have wasted in your and in their society; on which I cannot help looking back with the feelings of a man who has embittered his after life by the commission of some horrible crime; I should at this moment have been breathing the fragrance of the fading woods with ecstasy; I should have been admiring the varied glories of the landscape, the blue gossamery haze and yellow geams of an autumnal sky, with a soul and a bodily frame attuned to rapture. Now, behold my situation! the fresh breezes of the south-west only chill me! I look on the blessed light of the sun with a heart as if dead and withered within me. My frame burns with unquenchable fever. With a throat and lips parched, like the crew of the ship in which the "mariner shot the albatros," to me day and night are alike long, dreary and comfortless. I repeat, if aught can restore tranquillity to my soul, if aught can bestow the blessed balm of self-complacence, and renew my once keen relish of the country, of pure and elevated pleasures, it is the being permitted to spend this interesting season amid the tranquil shades of my native forest. At present my condition is that described by the poet, "When on the weary night dawns wearier day." Perhaps the cloud will soon be past; and in that case you will soon hear from me again. If not I shall be silent. I know this will find you in your usual good spirits, but remember, with regard to me, ""Tis not as heads that never ache suppose, Forgery of fancy and a dream of woes. Farewell, |