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formed into worlds by his power, and dispersed at intervals, to which even the imagination cannot travel. In this great theatre of his glory, | a thousand suns, like our own, / animate their respective sys.tems, I appearing, and vanishing at Divine command. | We behold our own bright luminary, i fixed in the centre of its system, I wheeling its planets in times proportioned to their dis'tances, and at once dispensing light, heat, and action. | The earth also is seen with its twofold motion; 1 producing by the one, the change of sea sons; and, by the other, the grateful vicissitudes of day, and night. | With what silent magnificence is all this performed. ! | with what seeming ease! | The works of art are exerted with interrupted force; , and their noisy progress discovers the obstructions they receive; but the earth, with a silent, steady rotation, successively presents every part of its bosom to the sun ; at once imbibing nourishment, and light from that parent of vegetation, and fertility. ||
But not only provisions of heat, and light are thus supplied ; | the whole surface of the earth is covered with a transparent at'mosphere that turns with its motion, / and guards it from external injury. | The rays of the sun are thus broken into a genial warmth"; 1 and, while the surface is assisted, I a gentle heat is produced in the bowels of the earth, which contributes to cover it with verdure. | Waters also are supplied in healthful abundance, I to support life, and assist vegetation. | Mountains rise to diversify the prospect, and give a current to the stream. | Seas extend from one continent to the other, 1 replenished with animals that may be turned to human support; and also serving to enrich the earth with a sufficiency of vapour. I Breezes fly along the surface of the fields, / to promote health. and vegetation. The coolness of the evening invites to rest'; and the freshness of the morning renews for labor.
Such are the delights of the habitation / that has been
assigned to man :) without any one of these, he must have been wretched ; | and none of these could his own industry bave supplied. | But while, on the one hand, many of his wants are thus kindly furnished, there are, on the other, numberless inconveniences to excite his industry. | This habitation, though provided with all the conveniences of air, pasturage, and water, is but a desert place, without human cultivation. | The lowest an'imal finds more conveniences in the wilds of nature, I than he who boasts himself their lord. | The whirlwind, the inundation, and all the asperities of the air, I are peculiarly terrible to man, who knows their consequences, | and, at a distance, dreads their approach. | The earth itself, where human art has not pervaded, puts on a frightful, gloomy appearance. | The forests are dark, and tangled ; | the meadows are overgrown with rank weeds'; and the brooks stray without a determined channel. | Nature, that has been kind to every lower order of beings, I seems to have been neglectful with regard to him. : | to the savage uncontriving man, 1 the earth is an abode of desola tion, where his shelter is insufficient, and his food precarious.
A world, thus furnished with advantages on one side, and inconveniences on the other, is the proper abode of rea'son, and the fittest to exercise the industry | of a free, and a thinking creature. | These evils, which art can remedy. I and prescience' guard against, | are a proper call for the exertion of his fac'ulties; 1 and they tend still more to assimilate him to his Creator. I God beholds, with pleasure, I that being which he has made, Iconverting the wretchedness of his natural situation / into a theatre of triumph ; | bringing all the headlong tribes of nature / into subjection to his will. ; I and producing that order, and uniformity upon earth, of wnich his own heavenly fabric is so bright an ex. ample.
CHARACTER OF PITT.
(ROBERTSON.) The secretary stood alone : ! modern degeneracy had not reached him. | Original, and unaccommodating, the features of his character, had the hardihood of antiquity. | His august mind over-awed majesty ;/ and one of his sovereignsa I thought royalty so impaired in his presence, I that he conspired to remove him in order to be relieved from his superiority. | No state chica'. nery,' | no narrow system of vicious politics, I no idle contest for ministerial victories, I sunk him to the vul. gar level of the great, ; , but over-bearing, persuasive, and impracticable, I his object was England, i his ambition was fame.
Without dividing, he destroyed party ; ) without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. | France sunk beneath him. / With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, I and wielded in the other, the democracy of England. | The sight of his mind was in finite; I and his schemes were to affect, | not England, I not the present age only, but Europe, and posterity. | Wonder. ful were the means by which these schemes were accom plished — | always seasonable, I always ad'equate, the suggestions of an understanding | animated by ar. dour, and enlightened by prophecy. I
The ordinary feelings which make life amiable, and indolent, I were unknown' to him. | No domestic difficulties, I no domestic weakness reached him; 1 but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, I and unsul. lied by its intercourse, he came occasionally into our system, / to counsel, and to decide. ||
A character so exalted, / so strenuous, / so various, 1 so authoritative, / astonished a corrupt age — and the treasury trembled at the name of Pitt | through all her classes of venality. | Corruption imagined, indeed,!
Såv'er-ind. She-ka'når-re. • • Untractable.
that she had found defects' in this statesman,' and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories; I but the history of his country, I and the calamities of the enemy, i answered, and refuted her. I
Nor were his political abilities his only talents:1 his eloquence was an era in the senate, 1 peculiar, and sponta'neous, familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments, and instinctive wisdom; í not like the torrent of Demosthenes, I or the splendid conflagration of Tully ; | it resembled sometimes the thunder, I and sometimes the music of the spheres. | Like Murray, I he did not conduct the understanding through the painful subtlety of argumentation; | nor was he, like Townshend, for ever on the rack of exertion; I but rather lightened upon the subject, I and reached the point by the flashings of the mind', / which, like those of his eye, I were fell, but could not be followed. ||
Upon the whole, I there was in this man something that would create', / subvert', / or reform'; | an understanding, I a spirit, I and an eloquence, I to summon mankind to society, I or to break the bonds of slavery asun der, - | something to rule the wilderness of free minds 1 with unbounded author'ity ; , something that could establish, / or overwhelm' empire, / and strike a blow in the world, that should resound through the universe.
(Enter CLARENCE and BRACKENBURY.] Brack. Why looks your grace so heav'ily to-day?)
Clar. O I have pass'd a miserable nighti, 1 So full of fearful dreams, l of ugly sights, I That, as I am a Christian faithful man, 1
I would not spend another such a night,
you, tell me.
Brack. Had you such leisure in the time of death, To gaze upon these secrets of the deep'? |
Clar. Methought I had'; ' and often did I strive
• Mine ears; not mine-nears. "Mine eyes; not inine-nize.