expiation of their offence may yet await them. Even where they are not overtaken by ostensible penalties, and are saved from human vengeance, nature is perhaps exacting atonement in self-reproach, and in the terrors of an accusing conscience, which conjuring up fiends in imagination, transform each object into a fancied foe, and "make them be lieve, like the parricide Bessus, that they hear the surrounding animals inveigh against their crime."*

* Plutarch de his qui sero a Numine puniuntur.

CHAPTER VIII.

DISAPPOINTMENT RESULTS FROM IGNORANCE IN SUBLUNARY ARRANGEMENTS.

ALREADY have we advanced a little way smoothly and easily on the journey of life, indulging in present enjoyments, and speculating on futurity. We behold the harmonies of the universe preserved under perpetual changes, yet for ever undisturbed: we compute the periods and the places of the planetary spheres; we foresee the renovations of spring, and can tell the lengthening twilight, or fix unerringly the flux and reflux of the ocean. But at the moment of greatest confidence in any of all the events regarding ourselves, we find our plans frustrated.

We meditate and conclude, and firmly anticipate the issue of our expectations; they strengthen with renewal. But of all the evils haunting the human race, that of disappointment is of the most frequent recurrence. It is ever lurking under the wings of hope, clouds the fairest dawn, and wraps in gloomy night our fondest dreams of felicity.

If once overthrown we recover from the fall, it is not to stand more securely; for instantly is disappointment ready to cast us down again.

We are mortified, distressed, and confounded. Why should the bright images of our glowing fancy thus be obliterated? Why should our best and worthiest energies be causelessly defeated, and reverses always be prepared to darken our justest prospect of success?

To the contracted minds of mankind these seem inequitable dispensations, unsuitable to genuine desert, the violation of natural and moral rights, and as if sporting with their virtuous feelings. They see that they need not try to fortify themselves against the invasions of disappointment; for there are no circumstances nor any condition exempted from it. In infancy it visits us, we are accompanied by it in adolescence, it pursues us through manhood, and awaits the drooping of venerable age.

Nevertheless, if we enquire more profoundly into the source of this invasion of peace, so inseparable from human existence, perhaps it will be found principally chargeable to ourselves: that it originates in our ignorance of futurity, and resides in the errors of judgment: that we do wrong in applying to our private transient and artificial state, the general regulations beheld in the government of the uni

verse.

All unexpected results follow mistaken anticipations. If presuming on our penetration, we strive to avert disappointment in prediction, it is from reasoning on experience that we succeed. The times past read useful lectures for present obser

servation: If we would look to what shall be, let us consider what has been.

The happiness of the animated world stands foremost in the beneficent designs which are ascribed to Providence for all the provisions of nature tend to good. Men therefore think themselves entitled to contemplate their own interests favourably. They couple with the purposes of their being the objects of their wishes, embellished by grateful colouring: they reduce to substantial forms the floating visions of a heated imagination: they construe doubts and conjectures into realities: they expect, because they desire. But the foundation is fallacy: the fairy edifice totters, the equipoise is lost, truth turns the balance and preponderates in frustration. We discover that we have been busy in deceiving ourselves.

Such is the result of most of the speculations which mankind entertain, and most of the transactions wherein they engage.

Let us beware, however, of overcharging this clouded picture. From what has been already said, and from the remarks which have yet to come, such a tissue of contrarieties, and such repeated vexations as those that are incident to human nature, would seem too heavy a load for the strongest. Disappointment is incessant, indeed: but it will be well to examine if it be always a calamity—if it be always of permanent prejudice-never profitable.

Disappointment, certainly, is a state of suffering, it is grief, and that state of suffering is often renewed.

It is not the object of these observations to inculcate a system of optimism, though undoubtedly the general purport of what we venture to design universal harmonies, seems to have such a tendency. The frustration of what at one time absorbed our deepest attention, of that which seemingly involved our dearest interests, and inflicting a grievous wound at the moment converted joy to sorrow, may prove beneficial in the end. How often, when under the influence of violent passions, subduing reason, spurning control, and despising salutary counsel, do we center our sole desire and ambition in the attainment of some single object! We are frustrated-we rave in the bitterness of disappointmentreproaching fortune, reproaching mankind, reproaching ourselves. "Is it not beyond endurance," we exclaim, "to be foiled?-to have aimed only at what was so justifiable; to have set our affections on what promised such felicity; to be so nearly within our grasp, yet to be disappointed of all? None can be alike unfortunate,-none so miserable!" A short season intervenes, however: the vehemence of our emotions begins to subside. The object previously ever present, is but occasionally revived; and we come, by progressive degrees, to behold it more calmly. Formerly it was seen under only one, and that the fairest aspect: Now do different lights obtrude themselves. Comparing them together, each is not alluring or brilliant; and in finding it so, we are compelled to allow that it is better we have been frustrated.