it will be attractive, and if pleasing or convenient, it will be embraced, and then its strength and consistency will soon be deemed demonstrated: but when the writers on the subject, and the readers of those writings, become cool; when reason takes the place of imagination, then the system will be often discovered to be defective, the vapoury fabric will fade away, and some other will obtain its place. We are too frequently going round in our progress, rather than forward. In many respects we are not much farther advanced than the ancients, and yet we ought to be, and should be if we had pursued a direct course.

But one of the most pleasing sources of novelty is that which the Almighty has given us in the seasons of the year; and this distinctly shows us that the love of novelty is not only natural, but it is allowable and praiseworthy, if it be regulated by reason; for the Great Creator himself indulges us in this respect. And thus we have all the variety of summer and winter, of sultry and frosty days, of clear and cloudy skies; of the budding and blooming of spring, and the richness and luxuriance of autumn; the breaking forth of the sun in the morning, and the setting of that glorious luminary; the light of the stars; the silvery splendour of the moon; the glare of lightnings and meteors, the rolling of thunder, with vapours, rain, hail, and

snow.

The love of novelty is injurious only when it is carried beyond what the Almighty intended; when it does not animate a person to perform his necessary engagements, but carries him away from them;

when it makes him restless and wavering. Novelty accompanies man in infancy and in youth; it cheers and exalts him in the changing scenes of manhood; and when we leave this earthly sphere, and the soul bursts forth from its corporeal dwelling, it will fly upwards to regions of still greater novelty, and never-failing interest!

CHAP. V.

ON JOY AND SORROW.

are

Joy and sorrow may exist in a variety of degrees. The former may be rapture or ecstasy, the latter anguish or misery. Both joy and sorrow sometimes too great for utterance. A moderate degree of joy may be shown in gaiety or mirth; a moderate degree of sorrow in complaining or grieving. The former is cheerfulness, the latter pensiveness or gloom. Both of these may allow the full action of the bodily and mental powers, so as to produce soundness of health and correctness of judgment; but more than these disorders the body and the intellect.

The feeling of joy or hilarity may be moderately indulged, for this is agreeable with the precepts and conduct of the wisest men. Dr. Beattie has observed, that "wit, humour, and merriment may be used in the way of relaxation; " but, with regard to a powerful feeling of joy, Dr. Armstrong says, in alluding to the pursuit of enjoyment,

"Our aim is happiness; 'tis yours, 'tis mine,
'Tis the pursuit of all that live;

Yet few attain it, if 'twas e'er attain'd.

But they the widest wander from the mark

Who through the flow'ry paths of saunt'ring joy
Seek this coy goddess."

Any feeling of an excessive kind injures the health, and in the same degree affects and deranges the nervous system. It is a subject of mystery how the connection between the mind and the body should be so intimately preserved. When the corporeal part is healthy, the mind is vigorous; when the body is disordered, the mind is depressed. On the other hand, mental impressions of a pleasing kind exhilarate the body; while a powerful and agitating influence injures the nervous system, paralyses the muscles, diminishes the circulation, and sometimes occasions death. Pope Leo X. was so much elated with the intelligence of the taking of Milan, that he fell into a fever and died; and Alfonso X., king of Aragon, being deposed by his son Sancho, died of grief. Extreme elation and excessive depression are equally injurious. Great joy is as painful as great sorrow; and the effects, in many respects, are extremely similar; they occasion uneasiness, a wasting of the flesh, a diminution of bodily energy, loss of sleep, and absence of mind.

The one extreme is likely to produce the other "Nullum violentum durabile."

"When spring-tide joy pours in with copious flood,
The higher still the exulting billows flow,

The farther back again they flagging go,

And leave us grovelling on the dreary shore."

THOMSON.

There is a faculty in some minds, which enables them to see most vividly all the circumstances connected with a particular event; and the imagination is a powerful auxiliary, which contributes to

increase the pleasures and attractions, or the gloom and repulsiveness, of its aspect; but as soon as these visions have presented themselves they vanish, and then the imagination forms a display of an opposite kind, which is equally imposing and equally incorrect. Thus, the person will be joyous to-day and gloomy to-morrow; frantic with grief at an irreparable loss on one occasion, and exulting at new and enchanting prospects on another. This transition is excellently illustrated in a tale which is given by Dr. Taylor, from Petronius, to this effect. A certain woman was the admiration of all Ephesus for an ardent attachment to her husband; but the good man died, and was placed in a vault. The wife, accompanied by a maiden, visited the corpse, intending to weep herself to death, or to kill herself with hunger. A soldier was stationed near the place, whose duty it was to watch the bodies of seven malefactors throughout the night; but he left his station, and crept into the place of sepulture for a shelter, where he was astonished at seeing the widow and her maid. After having stared at each other, the soldier fetched his supper of wine and viands, and offered to share it with the maiden, who, being refreshed with the collation, offered some to her mistress; and she, having exhausted the burden of her grief, drank the wine, and became enlivened. The clouds of sorrow passed away, and she listened to the soldier's cheerful and interesting conversation. A mutual feeling of kindness grew to love; they became gay, and talkative, and enamoured of each other, and at length plighted their vows. But,