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is very natural, but I do not see the all its unity and dignity from bearing proof on which its reality is establish- the stamp of an higher intelligence ? ed. You have got design, but where You may say then, if you will, that is mind, volition, and all the other you have no idea of God, except as train of your deductions ?
the designing principle of all existWell then, (said Philo,) if you will ence: mind owes its arrangement to not give me mind and volition, I will this principle, as well as matter, and deny those powers which you wish to must be an object, therefore, of infepalm upon me. I say still that these rior reverence. are mere arrangements, and that they Indeed, Philo, (said Cleanthes, I indicate nothing but design separate cannot but be of Pamphilus's opinion, from the perceptions with which they that it is not the mere power of inaffect the senses. Design, therefore, telligence which excites our religious will be the only principle by which sentiments, but our notion that there nature is regulated.
is some being in whom it resides, and Admit this, (said I,) and we have whom we suppose as in some degree not yet found the Deity. Design resembling ourselves in nature, though upon this supposition will be merely greatly beyond us in all perfection. a principle of nature, not an attribute I am of the same opinion, (said of mind, and it is only an intelligent Philo,) and Pamphilus admits, that mind, not a principle of arrangement, when we once reach the notion of dewhich can be the object of any senti- sign, it is natural for us to suppose a ments of religion.
mind, volition, and other attributes, However Cleanthes (replied Philo) but this he wants to have strictly demay despise my sceptical tendencies, monstrated. Here I have recourse to I cannot but think that they may the defensive weapons of scepticism, at times lead to truth ; for instance, and tell him that the notion of mind, Pamphilus, all your present difficulty as of a single undivided being, is seems to arise from a mysterious re- greatly derived from the consistency verence which you have conceived for and harmony observed among its operathat thing which you are pleased to tions, and which, therefore, as well as call mind, and which we sceptics the system of nature, supposes the exsometimes treat with no very marked istence of superior intelligence. If, deference. Indeed, we have gone therefore, he will not at once admit so far as to doubt of its existence. mind from the observation of design, You who seem to understand it so I tell him, that design is superior to well, must at least know what you mind, or is the principle of its constimean when you speak of your own tution, and if this should seem paradoxmind. But I suppose you will find, ical, it is only saying, in other words, upon examination, that it is only its that the divine intelligence is in its beattributes of which you are conscious, ing or essence of a loftier nature than or of which you know any thing; mind, which, in strictness of speech, and the thinking substance itself will means only created mind. God may make but a very poor figure in your be only known to us as the principle apprehension.
of intelligence, but then it is very eviNo matter for that, (replied 1,) I dent, that this principle must be more am still satisfied of its existence. essentially intelligent than any other
You are conscious (replied Philo) intelligence,-and if our notion of of the existence of certain operations substance or individuality of being, of thought and of action, which are either in mind or matter, be derived, connected together by fixed laws. This as I think probable, from that obsystem or combination of operations served harmony and arrangement of you call yourself, or your mind. In parts, which indicates an unity of deits constitution, as well as in the great sign; then, although we cannot class system of nature, you may trace the the divine nature under the common influence of design superior to your own, and what if this thing which
• This notion of design, or intention, you call the substance of mind, and forms a part of many complex ideas, which which seems to you so admirable and have occasioned much perplexity to Philodivine, be nothing more than that are sophers, and is, in truth, the ingredient rangement and connection between which has imperceptibly the greatest weight your various faculties, which derives in their composition.
notion of substance, for that would be by Demea, in our former converto suppose, that it had arranged and sation." You say the appearances harmonized its own existence; and of nature prove the existence of dethe exact notion of the Deity, accordo sign. I ask you, is this design an atingly, must be entirely above our tribute of mind? You reply, that comprehension : yet, what we naturally think so, because we nearest it is inind, because mind ex- know nothing of design except in hibits intelligence, and we may be mind; but then you say, it is somevery sure that there is nothing of sub- thing greater than mind, because stance in the highest sense which does mind is itself a system formed by denot belong to the Deity, if we mean sign. If then the Deity is mind, all by this word any thing separable from those objections which you formerly the constitution or arrangement of started against the anthropomorphism things created and systematized. of Cleanthes, may be urged against
But, indeed, Cleanthes, we are & the hypothesis ; if he is more than gain getting too deeply into metaphy- mind, or of a nature as you say ensical difficulties, and it is not very tirely above our comprehension, are wise, perhaps, in Pamphilus to push we not running into the mysticism of me beyond the limits of an humbler Demea ? philosophy. It would be well for us, I repeat again, (replied Philo,) that in this great inquiry, to keep in view all we directly read in nature is the the admirable caution of Calvin, existence of design or intelligence. “ Hanc esse rectissimam Dei quæren- This is a quality which I perfectly di viam, et aptissimum ordinem ; non understand, because I find it existing ut audaci curiositate penetrare tente- in myself. In myself it exists along mus ad excutiendam ejus essentiam with other qualities, the combination quæ adoranda potius est quam scru- and assemblage of which I call my pulosius disquirenda : sed ut illum mind, and as this is the only mode in suis operibus contemplemur, qui- in which I can conceive its existence, bus se propinquum nobis familiarem- I naturally speak of it in every inque reddit ac quodammodo commu stance as being an attribute of mind. nicat.” If our understandings are However, the intelligence which I satisfied, that design is as apparent discover in nature must exist in a in nature as any other appearance, mode of being different from my comwe may admit at once that the mon idea of mind; because the only great fountain of all intelligence is at species of mind with which I am least as honourably situated as any of acquainted, is itself constituted or the streams which are derived from systematized, which cannot be the it; and if this mighty faculty seems case with the divine mind. The to fall into the class of what are called truth then seems simply to be this, natural, that is to say, unintelligent and it leads neither to anthropomorpowers; unless it be the attribute of phism nor to mysticism. I discover a mind, and be associated with other the divine intelligence. I can only attributes, then surely we may (to a- speak of intelligence as existing in a void even a contradiction) allow that inind; at the same time the Divine there must be a Divine mind in which cannot be of the same nature with the this intelligence resides, and which human mind. If you ask me what is must be endowed also with all the at- that supreme nature, I cannot inform tributes that are suitable to the lofti- you, I know as much as I want, ness of the conception. Admit the however, when I have discovered its infinite intelligence of the Deity, and all-pervading wisdom. every other perfection of mind or spi I will only detain you on this part rit will follow in its train.
of the inquiry (replied ) with anYou will pardon me, however, other little puzzle, in which, although Philo, said I, even although you have I firmly believe there is no serious ensconced yourself behind the formida- difficulty, it may yet be as well if we ble shield of Calvin, (I did not, by the can unravel it. You told me a little way, conceive that there were such while ago that I should have some noble sayings in his terrific theology,) difficulty in satisfying myself what I if I should accuse you of some of that tendency to mysticism, which See Humne's Dialogues on Natural was carried to so great an extent Religion.
meant by mind. I now ask you, in re- being with whose intelligence I beturn, to satisfy yourself what is the ex- come acquainted must act. I have no act meaning of design. Must not a plan faculties by which I can be informed or design consist, in the mind which of the intellectual qualities of other beconceives it, of various thoughts or ings, except from their works or operaideas adjusted to each other? Do these tions. Were there no creation, I should then exist in this separate form in the never have known the existence of the Deity? If they do, we again light up- divine mind. But creation implies acon all the consequences of anthropo- tion, or, in other words, volition and morphism. Or, if design in the Deity its consequences. The production of is different from design in the human the universe, therefore, at the same mind, then how is it design ? is it not moment that it makes us acquaintsomething we know not what? and ed with the wisdom which projected are we not talking mysticisin, or, in it, informs us likewise of the will other words, unintelligibly? The which caused it, or the discovery of question was your own formerly, and the Divine intelligence must be acI have not yet heard it answered. companied in our minds with the dis
It would indeed be absurd, Pam- covery of his volition. philus, (he replied,) to affirm, that, The mighty difficulty, however, upon subjects of this lofty nature, (replied 1,) relates to the moral attrithere cannot be started puzzles which butes. A being may have intelligence are beyond the reach of the human un- and the power of volition ; but, if we derstanding. I surely will not pretend see no more, can we attach to him the to give you an insight into the intelli- notions of excellence or goodness ? It gence of the Deity, or explain to you was here, Philo, that you combated either its mode of being or its manner with most success the received notions of operation. All that I am acquaint- of Deity; and, unless we are coned with are its effects. These speak to vinced that God is good, where, after my mind the same language as the ef- all, can be our sentiments of religion? fects of human intelligence. Perhaps (To be continued.) the thoughts of every mind are arranged differently Your intelligence may be something very different from THE mine, but its operations are similar. POST FOR JANUARY 31, 1820. Or, when we talk of a division of
CHAPTER I. thoughts, are we not borrowing our language from the material world, I first woke to the consciousness and speaking of the mind as if it were of existence in the form of a plant of something extended ? In short, every flax, and expanded my blue petals to man has but a very obscure and rapid the glow of a meridian sun in the ferview of the operations of his own tile plains of Cambray. intellect ; however, in the effects I shall not dwell on the sensations which follow from them, he reads which I experienced during these few design with sufficient distinctness; and happy hours, when I waved my he discovers the same principle in the light flowers in the gentle breeze, operations of other men; he finds it while the butterfly rested on my slenlikewise in the works of the Deity. der stalk, the blithe insects flew in
Without going any farther (replied airy circles around me, and the birds, 1) into points of so much abstruse- with joyous carols, filled the air with ness, you will yet permit me to hesi- harmony. Suddenly I was seized by tate before I give my assent to your a ruthless peasant, who dragged me assertion, that all the other perfections from my parent soil, and laid me on of mind must accompany that of de- an heap with many thousands of my sig. May there not be a being mere- languishing fellows. A darkness and ly speculative, without any active fa- insensibility came over me I lost all culties; and what do you say to that power of observation, and retained large class of qualities which we call not even the sense of existence, but moral ? Must they likewise be the by feeling the torment of a heaviness necessary concomitants of intelligence and oppression, which all who have
I may admit (said he) the possible felt it, know to be worse than pain. existence of a simple intelligence, de I cannot say how long I continued void of any active principle; but any in this state, for slowly do the hours
that are loaded with misery. At more particularly assiduous to the length I emerged once more to light widow, and in whom there appeared and life, and found myself lying on an air of design and artifice that es. a table in the form of a cambric cited my suspicions. For this reason handkerchief, in a splendid apart. I watched him narrowly. He was ment, which, as I afterwards found, tolerably, handsome, and evidently belonged to the Hotel de Bin thought himself exceedingly so. His Paris. The room, though brilliantly dress studiously a-la-mode, fitted up, was rendered gloomy and though, with all his endeavours, he sepulchral, by the quantities of black could not set it off with the true air draperies that were disposed around of gentility ; and there was besides a it.
kind of vaurien expression in his counPresently a lady entered the apart- tenance that made me in my heart (for ment, leaning on a very pretty, but cambric handkerchiefs have hearts) pensive, young woman. The lady was take a dislike to him. apparently past the bloom of youth, The conversation, as was highly and was clothed in the deepest widow's proper, was chiefly on the merits of mourning. On entering, she stopt, the deceased ; and the affliction of the and gazed around, and then said, in widow appeared excessive, though I, no very gracious tone of voice, to the who had an opportunity of knowing dejected girl by her side, “Very well, how the matter stood, can safely aver Agatha, for once you have done me she did not shed a tear. She expathe favour to try to please me; on the tiated on her lamented husband's whole, every thing is very tolerably merits, and especially on his great liarranged; but we must make a few berality. alterations.
“ Do you know, my friends, that She then, while her attendant seem- noble, generous man, has left every ed wearied both in spirit and in body, thing to me.” caused her to make a thousand little Generous, noble man!” was frivolous changes in the folds and echoed by the circle of sympathetic hangings of the black draperies. friends, who seemed to be performing
When this was at last completed, the part of a chorus. she threw herself, in a fine attitude, “* And every thing in my own into an arm-chair. “ Now,” said power," added the widow. she, “ I can indulge myself in grief.” “ Excellent worthy man !" was reShe then, taking me in her hand, iterated round the room. seemed to endeavour to deceive her “I thought," said M. de Chamself into the belief that she was shed- beau, the young man I have been deding a flood of tears. After a proper scribing, “ that great part of M. de time, she discontinued the semblance B 's property went to the young of woe, and took up a book that had G-s, his heirs-at-law?" been placed on the table.
“ Not a livre," said the widow; “How is this?” said she,-“What not a month before my lamented could you mean by laying this book husband's death, he agreed to pay on the table when I am expecting their father's debts, on condition that visits of condolence ?"
they relinquished their own claims on “I thought, Madam," replied the his estate. trembling Agatha, “ you would like “ I hope," said M. de Chambeau, the book that appeared to amuse you “ it was not a large sum he had to so much last night."
" True, child, but it is a different “O no! something very inconsiderthing reading in company, and read- able, but the sons were willing to ing alone: here, quick, hide it be- make any sacrifice to save their father hind the cushion, and give me Mas- from prison." sillon's Sermons, and the Mystics of “ How fortunate !" went round the Madame Guyon."
circle. These arrangements were scarcely “ But," resumed the young man, made when coinpany arrived, and with a look of anxious inquiry," can there followed a long scene of the by- they not institute a process, and still pocrisy of grief on one side, and the substantiate their claims?" hypocrisy of sympathy on the other. “ Impossible," replied the lady, I remarked one young man, who was " the papers were too securely drawn
up, to leave them any power of refuse At length a return of sensation began ing to abide by them; besides, the ele to creep over me, consisting at first der is now dying of a broken heart, in little else than an extreme pressure. and the younger is going to seek his On the removal of the pressure, I fortune with the South American in- started suddenly into the knowledge surgents, so there is no fear that either of a great improvement in my order of them can disturb my dear departed of being, and perceived myself to be husband's generous bequest.”. no less a person than the Morning
Here a few broken sobs made a very Post of January 31, 1820, and that I judicious termination of the widow's had a deep black edge round my marspeech ;-while “ excellent man!" gin, as an expression of grief for the
magnificent legacy !" “ charming news I contained of the death of the sensibility!" was repeated at proper good old King George III. I had no intervals by the chorus.
time for making farther observations, At length all the company departed, as I was seized instantly by a dirty except M. de Chambeau, who, as boy, who, with haste and importance soon as he was alone with the lady, be- in his looks, hurried me and several gan a long tirade on his long nourished' others like myself through the streets passion for her-on his fears-on his of London. After leaving many of hopes on his desperation. The lady my companions at different places, it heard him at first with frowns and was my luck to be left at a large house reproaches : at last her grief for the in
Square. husband who was departed, was suc After being examined and well comceeded by compassion for the lover mented upon by the porter and a who was present ; and M. de Cham- bevy of footmen, I was taken up beau threw himself on his knees be- stairs, and laid on the breakfast-table fore her, exclaiming, “O! ever be- of a very elegant apartment, loved creature, let me not languish Here I was left alone, and had time out my life in hopeless expectation ; to look about me, and consider my siat least permit me to look forwards to tuation. My attention was soon rivete a period that may terminate my suf- ted by a full length portrait of a young ferings, and put me in possession of female. The candour and innocence all I love on earth.”
of youth sat upon the brow, cheerfulThe lady was silent, but he mark- ness beamed through every feature, ed the relenting of her eye, and con- and the beautiful lips that were a littinued, “ Allow me to name this day tle parted, seemed to be saying: fortnight for our happy nuptials.” “ Look at me, for I am good and
“ This day fortnight, Sir!" ex- happy." clained the lady, “ consider the re I was so much absorbed in contem. spect I owe to the memory of the de- plating this lovely picture, that I was ceased, -to the world,- to myself, scarcely aware that a lady and gentle consider my excessive grief, consider man had entered the room, and were -a fortnight! impossible ! at least let seated at breakfast, till the lady took it be three weeks."
me up. I then immediately saw that At this moment I became too much she was the original of the portrait I occupied by my own misfortunes to had been admiring; but how changobserve how much farther the contested ! Instead of that sweet and happy proceeded; for in the moment of agi- expression of countenance, she wore tation, the widow had suffered me to the haggard, dissipated look of a thofall on the floor, where I became the rough votary of fashion-restlessness prey of a mischievous little French lap- and anxiety were visible in her eye, dog, who amused himself with tearing peevishness and discontent in her me to shreds. I cannot say that my mouth. The same delicacy of comsufferings under this operation were plexion and regularity of features reacute, though they were very distres. mained, but all their charm was sing, and were succeeded by a faint gone. ness and insensibility, which rendered I turned from this painful contrast, my existence for a time a total blank. to examine the gentleman. His air
and figure were strikingly dignified Chap. II.
and elegant; his face might, perhaps, I conjecture that I remained in this be called plain, but was highly pleasmelancholy condition many months, ing, from the expression in it of sound