This fact well considered, would make our infidels withdraw their admiration from Socrates; or make them endeavour, by their imitation of this illustrious example, to share his glory: And, consequently, it would incline them to peruse the following pages with candour and impartiality: Which is all I desire; and that, for their sakes For I am persuaded, that an unprejudiced infidel must, necessarily, receive some advantageous impressions from them. July 7, 1744. IN the sixth Night arguments were drawn, from Nature, in proof of immortality: Here, others are drawn from MAN: From his Discontent, p. 8; from his Passions and Powers, 9; from the gradual growth of Reason, ibid. from his fear of Death, 10; from the nature of Hope, ibid. and of Virtue, 11, &c. from Knowledge, and Love, as being the most essential properties of the soul, 14; from the Order of Creation, 15, &c. from the na- ture of Ambition, 17, &c. Avarice, 20; Pleasure, 21. A digression on the grandeur of the Passions, 22, 23. Im- mortality alone renders our present state intelligible, 23. An objection from the Stoics disbelief of immortality an- swered, 24. Endless questions unresolvable, but on sup- position of our immortality, 25. The natural, most mel- ancholy, and pathetic complaint of a worthy man, under the persuasion of no futurity, 26, &c. The gross absurdities and horrors of annihilation, urged home on LORENZO, 31, c. The souls vast importance, 36, &c. from whence it arises, 39, 40. The Difficulty of being an infidel, 41, the Infamy, ibid. the Cause, 42, and the Character, ibid. of an infidel state. What true free-thinking is, 43, 44. The necessary punishment of the false, 45. Man's ruin is from himself, 46. An infidel accuses himself of guilt, and hypocrisy ; and that of the worst sort, ibid. His ob- ligation to Christians, 47. What danger he incurs by Virtue, ibid. Vice recommended to him, 48. His high pretences to Virtue, aud Benevolence, exploded, ibid. The THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. PART THE SECOND. HEAV'N gives the needful, but neglected, call. What day, what hour, but knocks at human hearts, To wake the soul to sense of future scenes ? Death's stand, like Mercury's, in ev'ry way, And kindly point us to our journey's end. POPE, who couldst make immortals! art thou dead? I give thee joy: Nor will I take my leave; So soon to follow. Man but dives in death; Dives from the sun, in fairer day to rise; The grave his subterranean road to bliss. Yes, infinite indulgence plann'd it so ; Through various parts our glorious story runs ; Time gives the preface, endless age unrolls The volume (ne'er unroll'd!) of human fate. This, earth and skies* already have proclaim'd. The world's a prophecy of worlds to come; And who, what GOD foretels (who speaks in things, Still louder than in words) shall dare deny ? If nature's arguments appear too weak, Turn a new leaf, and stronger read in man. If man sleeps on, untaught by what he sees, Can he prove infidel to what he feels? He, whose blind thought futurity denies, Unconscious bears, BELLEROPHON! like thee, His own indictment; he condemns himself; Who reads his bosom, reads immortal life; Or, nature, there, imposing on her sons, Has written fables; man was made a lie. Night the Sixth. Why discontent for ever harbour'd there? Is it, that things terrestrial can't content? Shall sons of ether, shall the blood of heav'n, Our heads, our hearts, our passions, and our powers, Speak the same language; call us to the skies: Unripen'd these in this inclement clime, Scarce rise above conjecture, and mistake; And for this land of trifles those too strong Were man to live coëval with the sun, Should set ere noon, in eastern oceans drown'd; Nor reach, what reach he might, why die in dread? Why of his proud prerogative the prey? Why less pre-eminent in rank, than pain? Full ample fund to balance all amiss, |