small-pox, and that to a wise man diseases, deformity, | decisively brought to the test, and made manifest to death, the loss of friends, are not evils. The Baconian common understandings. He acted like a wise comtakes out a lancet and begins to vaccinate. They find mander who thins every other part of his line to a body of miners in great dismay. An explosion of strengthen a point where the enemy is attacking with noisome vapors has just killed many of those who were peculiar fury, and on the fate of which the event of the at work; and the survivors are afraid to venture into battle seems likely to depend. In the Novum Organum, the cavern. The Stoic assures them that such an acci- however, he distinctly and most truly declares that his dent is nothing but a mere anonponypevov. The Baconian, philosophy is no less a moral than a natural philosophy, who has not such fine word at his command, contents that, though his illustrations are drawn from physical himself with devising a safety-lamp. They find a science, the principles which those illustrations are shipwrecked merchant wringing his hands on the shore. intended to explain are just as applicable to ethical His vessel with an inestimable cargo has just gone and political inquiries as to inquiries into the nature of down, and he is reduced in a moment from opulence to heat and vegetation. beggary. The Stoic exhorts him not to seek happiness in things which lie without himself, and repeats the whole chapter of Epictetus яpos тovs тnv añopiav dedoikoras.* The Baconian constructs a diving-bell, goes down in it, and returns with the most precious effects from the wreck. It would be easy to multiply illustrations of the difference between the philosophy of thorns and the philosophy of fruit—the philosophy of words and the philosophy of works. He frequently treated of moral subjects; and he almost always brought to those subjects that spirit which was the essence of his whole system. He has left us many admirable practical observations on what he somewhat quaintly called the Georgics of the mindon the mental culture which tends to produce good dispositions. Some persons, he said, might accuse him of spending labor on a matter so simple that his predecessors had passed it by with contempt. He desired Bacon has been accused of overrating the importance such persons to remember, that he had from the first of those sciences which minister to the physical well-announced the objects of his search to be not the splenbeing of man, and of underrating the importance of did and the surprising, but the useful and the true,—— moral philosophy; and it cannot be denied that persons not the deluding dreams which go forth through the who read the Novum Organum and the De Augmentis, shining portal of ivory, but the humbler realities of the without adverting to the circumstances under which gate of horn. those works were written, will find much that may seem to countenance the accusation. It is certain, however, that, though in practice he often went very wrong, and though, as his historical work and his essays prove, he did not hold, even in theory, very strict opinions on points of political morality, he was far too wise a man not to know how much our well-being depends on the regulation of our minds. The world for which he wished was not, as some people seem to imagine, a world of water-wheels, power-looms, steamcarriages, sensualists, and knaves. He would have been as ready as Zeno himself to maintain, that no bodily comforts which could be devised by the skill and labor of a hundred generations would give happiness to a man whose mind was under the tyranny of licentious appetite, of envy, of hatred, or of fear. If he sometimes appeared to ascribe importance too exclusively to the arts which increase the outward comforts of our species, the reason is plain. Those arts had been most unduly depreciated. They had been represented as unworthy of the attention of a man of liberal education. This opinion seemed to him 'omnia in familia humanâ turbasse.' It had undoubtedly caused many arts which were of the greatest utility, and which were susceptible of the greatest improvements, to be neglected by speculators, and abandoned to joiners, masons, smiths, weavers, apothecaries. It was necessary to assert the dignity of those arts, to bring them prominently forward, to proclaim that, as they have a most serious effect on human happiness, they are not unworthy of the attention of the highest human intellects. Again, it was by illustrations drawn from these arts that Bacon could most easily illustrate his principles. It was by improvements effected in these arts that the soundness of his principles could be most speedily and To those who fear poverty.' True to this principle, he indulged in no rants about the fitness of things, the all-sufficiency of virtue, and the dignity of human nature. He dealt not at all in resounding nothings, such as those with which Bolingbroke pretended to comfort himself in exile; and in which Cicero sought consolation after the loss of Tullia. The casuistical subtleties which occupied the attention of the keenest spirits of his age had, it should seem, no attractions for him. The treatises of the doctors whom Escobar afterwards compared to the four beasts, and the four and twenty elders in the Apocalypse, Bacon dismissed with most contemptuous brevity: Inanes plerumque evadunt et futiles.* Nor did he ever meddle with those enigmas which have puzzled hundreds of generations, and will puzzle hundreds more. He said nothing about the grounds of moral obligation, or the freedom of the human will. He had no inclination to employ himself in labors resembling those of the damned in the Grecian Tartarus,—to spin forever on the same wheel round the same pivot,-to gape forever after the same deluding clusters,-to pour water forever into the same bottomless buckets,—to pace forever to and fro on the same wearisome path after the same recoiling stone. He exhorted his disciples to prosecute researches of a very different description; to consider moral science as a practical science-a science of which the object was to cure the diseases and perturbations of the mind,and which could be improved only by a method analogous to that which has improved medicine and surgery. Moral philosophers ought, he said, to set themselves vigorously to work for the purpose of discovering what are the actual effects produced on the human character by particular modes of education, by the indulgence of particular habits, by the study of particular books, by society, by emulation, by imitation. Then we might They are generally worthless and empty.' hope to find out what mode of training was most likely to preserve and restore moral health.* person who correctly analysed that method and explained its uses. Aristotle had long before pointed out the absurdity of supposing that syllogistic reasoning could ever conduct men to the discovery of any new principle; had shown that such discoveries can be made by induction, and by induction alone; and had given the history of the inductive process, concisely indeed, but with great perspicuity and precision.* What he was as a natural philosopher and a moral philosopher, that he was also as a theologian. He was, we are convinced, a sincere believer in the divine authority of the christian revelation. Nothing can be found in his writings, or in any other writings, more eloquent and pathetic than some passages which were apparently written under the influence of strong devo- What Bacon did for the inductive philosophy may, tional feeling. He loved to dwell on the power of the we think, be fairly stated thus. The objects of prechristian religion to effect much that the ancient phi- ceding speculators were objects which could be attained losophers could only promise. He loved to consider without careful induction. Those speculators, therethat religion as the bond of charity; the curb of evil fore, did not perform the inductive process carefully. passions; the consolation of the wretched; the support Bacon stirred up men to pursue an object which could of the timid; the hope of the dying. But controversies be attained only by induction, and by induction careon speculative points of theology seem to have engaged fully performed; and consequently induction was more scarcely any portion of his attention. In what he wrote carefully performed. We do not think that the impor on church government he showed, as far as he dared, a tance of what Bacon did for inductive philosophy has tolerant and charitable spirit. He troubled himself not ever been overrated. But we think that the nature of at all about Homoousians and Homoiousians, Monothe-his services is often mistaken, and was not fully underlites and Nestorians. He lived in an age in which dis- stood even by himself. It was not by furnishing phi putes on the most subtle points of divinity excited an in-losophers with rules for performing the inductive process tense interest throughout Europe; and nowhere more than in England. He was placed in the very thick of the conflict. He was in power at the time of the Synod of Dort, and must for months have been daily deafened with talk about election, reprobation, and final perse-spirits. It cannot, therefore, be uninteresting to inquire, verance. Yet we do not remember a line in his works from which it can be inferred that he was either a Calvanist or an Arminian. While the world was resounding with the noise of a disputatious philosophy, and a disputatious theology, the Baconian school, like Alworthy seated between Square and Thwackum, preserved a calm neutrality,-half scornful, half benevolent, and, content with adding to the sum of practical good, left the war of words to those who liked it. We have dwelt long on the end of the Baconian philosophy, because from this peculiarity all the other - peculiarities of that philosophy necessarily arose. Indeed, scarcely any person who proposed to himself the same end with Bacon could fail to hit upon the same means. The vulgar notion about Bacon we take to be this,— that he invented a new method of arriving at truth, which method is called induction; and that he exposed the fallacy of the syllogistic reasoning which had been in vogue before his time. This notion is about as well founded as that of the people who, in the middle ages, imagined that Virgil was a great conjurer. Many who are far too well informed to talk such extravagant nonsense, entertain what we think incorrect notions as to what Bacon really effected in this matter. The inductive method has been practised ever since the beginning of the world by every human being. It is constantly practised by the most ignorant clown, by the most thoughtless schoolboy, by the very child at the breast. That method leads the clown to the conclusion, that if he sows barley he shall not reap wheat. By that method the schoolboy learns, that a cloudy day is the best for catching trout. The very infant, we imagine, is led by induction to expect milk from his mother or nurse, and none from his father. Not only is it not true that Bacon invented the inductive method; but it is not true that he was the first • De Augmentis, Lib. 7, Cap. 3. well, but by furnishing them with a motive for performing it well, that he conferred so vast a benefit on society. To give to the human mind a direction which it shall retain for ages, is the rare prerogative of a few imperial what was the moral and intellectual constitution which enabled Bacon to exercise so vast an influence on the world. In the temper of Bacon-we speak of Bacon the philosopher, not of Bacon the lawyer and politicianthere was a singular union of audacity and sobriety. The promises which he made to mankind might, to a superficial reader, seem to resemble the rants which a great dramatist has put into the mouth of an oriental conqueror half-crazed by good fortune and by violent passions: 'He shall have chariots easier than air, But Bacon performed what he promised. In truth, The true philosophical temperament may, we think, be described in four words-much hope, little faith; a disposition to believe that anything, however extraor dinary, may be done; an indisposition to believe that anything extraordinary has been done. In these points the constitution of Bacon's mind seems to us to have been absolutely perfect. He was at once the Maminon and the Surly of his friend Ben. Sir Epicure did not indulge in visions more magnificent and gigantic. Surly did not sift evidence with keener and more sagacious incredulity. Closely connected with this peculiarity of Bacon's temper was a striking peculiarity of his understanding. With great minuteness of observation he had an amplitude of comprehension such as has never yet been * See the last chapter of the Posterior Analytics, and the first of the Metaphysics. Borgia said of the famous expedition of Charles the Eighth, that the French had conquered Italy, not with steel, but with chalk; for that the only exploit which they had found necessary for the purpose of taking vouchsafed to any other human being. The small fine mind of Labruyère had not a more delicate tact than the large intellect of Bacon. The 'Essays' contain abundant proofs that no nice feature of character, no peculiarity in the ordering of a house, a garden, or a court-military occupation of any place, had been to mark the masque, could escape the notice of one whose mind was capable of taking in the whole world of knowledge. His understanding resembled the tent which the fairy Paribanou gave to Prince Ahmed. Fold it, and it seemed a toy for the hand of a lady. Spread it, and the armies of powerful Sultans might repose beneath its shade. In keenness of observation he has been equalled, though perhaps never surpassed, but the largeness of his mind was all his own. The glance with which he surveyed the intellectual universe resembled that which the Archangel, from the golden threshold of heaven, darted down into the new creation. 'Round he surveyed-and well might, where he stood Of night's extended shade,-from eastern point doors of the houses where they meant to quarter. Bacon often quoted this saying, and loved to apply it to the victories of his own intellect. His philosophy, he said, came as a guest, not as an enemy. She found no difficulty in obtaining admittance, without a contest, into every understanding fitted, by its structure and by its capacity, to receive her. In all this we think that he acted most judiciously-first, because, as he has himself remarked, the difference between his school and other schools was a difference so fundamental that there was hardly any common ground on which a controver sial battle could be fought; and, secondly, because his mind, eminently observant, pre-eminently discursive and capacious, was, we conceive, neither formed by nature, nor disciplined by habit, for dialectical combat. Though Bacon did not arm his philosophy with the weapons of logic, he adorned her profusely with all the richest decorations of rhetoric. His eloquence, though His knowledge differed from that of other men, as a not untainted with the vicious taste of his age, would terrestrial globe differs from an atlas which contains a alone have entitled him to a high rank in literature. He different country on every leaf. The towns and roads had a wonderful talent for packing thought close and of England, France, and Germany, are better laid down rendering it portable. In wit, if by wit be meant the in the atlas than in the globe. But while we are look- power of perceiving analogies between things which aping at England we see nothing of France; and while pear to have nothing in common, he never had an equal, we are looking at France we see nothing of Germany. -not even Cowley,-not even the author of Hudibras. We may go to the atlas to learn the bearings and dis- Indeed, he possessed this faculty, or rather this faculty tances of York and Bristol, or of Dresden and Prague. possessed him, to a morbid degree. When he abanBut it is useless if we want to know the bearings and doned himself to it without reserve, as he did in the distances of France and Martinique, or of England and Sapientia Veterum, and at the end of the second book of Canada. On the globe we shall not find all the market- the De Augmentis, the feats which he performed were towns in our own neighborhood; but we shall learn not merely admirable, but portentous, and almost shockfrom it the comparative extent and the relative positioning. On those occasions we marvel at him as clowns of all the kingdoms of the earth. 'I have taken,' said on a fair-day marvel at a juggler, and can hardly help Bacon, in a letter written when he was only thirty-one, thinking that the devil must be in him. to his uncle Lord Burleigh-'I have taken all knowledge to be my province.' In any other young man, indeed in any other man, this would have been a ridiculous flight of presumption. There have been thousands of better mathematicians, astronomers, chemists, physicians, botanists, mineralogists, than Bacon. No man ence or art; any more than he would go to a twelve-inch would go to Bacon's works to learn any particular sciglobe in order to find his way from Kennington turnpike to Clapham Common. The art which Bacon taught was the art of inventing arts. The knowledge in which Bacon excelled all men, was a knowledge of the mutual relations of all departments of knowledge. The mode in which he communicated his thoughts was exceedingly peculiar. He had no touch of that disputatious temper which he often censured in his pre. decessors. He effected a vast intellectual revolution in opposition to a vast mass of prejudices; yet he never engaged in any controversy:-nay, we cannot at present recollect, in all his philosophical works, a single passage of a controversial character. All those works might with propriety have been put into the form which he adopted in the work entitled Cogitata et visa--' Franciscus Baconus sic cogitavit.'-These are thoughts which have occurred to me:-weigh them well--and take them or leave them. These, however, were freaks in which his ingenuity now and then wantoned, with scarcely any other obBut it occasionally ject than to astonish and amuse. happened that, when he was engaged in grave and profound investigations, his wit obtained the mastery over all his other faculties, and led him into absurdities into which no dull man could possibly have fallen. We will give the most striking instance which at present occurs to us. In the third book of the De Augmentis he tells us that there are some principles which are not peculiar to one science, but are common to several. That part of philosophy which concerns itself with these principles, is, in his nomenclature, designated as philosophia prima. He then proceeds to mention some of the principles with which this philosophia prima is conversant. One of them is this. An infectious disease is more likely to be communicated while it is in progress than when it has reached its height. This, says he, is true in medicine. It is also true in morals; for we see that the example of very abandoned men injures public morality less than the example of men in whom vice has not yet extinguished all good qualities. Again-he tells us that in music a discord ending in a concord is agreeable, and that the same thing may be noted in the affections. Once more he tells us, that in physics the energy with * Novum Organum, Lib. 1, Aph. 35, and elsewhere. VOL. IV.-25 which a principle acts is often increased by the antipe- | amidst things as strange as any that are described in ristasis of its opposite; and that it is the same in the the Arabian Tales,' or in those romances on which the contests of factions. If this be indeed the philosophia curate and barber of Don Quixote's village performed prima, we are quite sure that the greatest philosophical work of the nineteenth century is Mr. Moore's 'Lalla Rookh.' The similitudes which we have cited are very happy similitudes. But that a man like Bacon should have taken them for more,-that he should have thought the discovery of such resemblances as these an important part of philosophy,-has always appeared to us one of the most singular facts in the history of letters. Yet in so cruel an auto da-fe,--amidst buildings more sumptuous than the palace of Aladdin,-fountains more wonderful than the golden water of Parizade,-conveyances more rapid than the hippogryph of Ruggiero,-arms more formidable than the lance of Astolfo,-remedies more efficacious than the balsam of Fierabras. his magnificent day-dreams there was nothing wild,— nothing but what sober reason sanctioned. He knew that all the secrets feigned by poets to have been writThe truth is, that his mind was wonderfully quick in ten in the books of enchanters, are worthless when perceiving analogies of all sorts. But, like several emi-compared with the mighty secrets which are really writnent men whom we could name, both living and dead, he sometimes appeared strangely deficient in the power of distinguishing rational from fancifu! analogies, analogies which are arguments from analogies which are mere illustrations,-analogies like that which Bishop Butler so ably pointed out between natural and revealed religion, from analogies like that which Addison discovered between the series of Grecian gods carved by Phidias, and the series of English kings painted by Kneller. This want of discrimination has led to many strange political speculations. Sir William Temple deduced a theory of government from the properties of the pyramid. Mr. Southey's whole system of finance is grounded on the phenomena of evaporation and rain. In theology this perverted ingenuity has made still wilder work. From the time of Irenæus and Origen, down to the present day, there has not been a single generation in which great divines have not been led into the most absurd expositions of Scripture, by mere incapacities to distinguish analogies proper,-to use the scholastic phrase-from analogies metaphorical.* It is curious that Bacon has himself mentioned this very kind of delusion among the idola specus; and has mentioned it in language which, we are inclined to think, indicates that he knew himself to be subject to it. It is the vice, he tells us, of subtle minds to attach too much importance to slight distinctions ;--it is the vice, on the other hand, of high and discursive intellects to attach too much importance to slight resemblances; and he adds, that when this last propensity is indulged to excess, it leads men to catch at shadows instead of substances.† Yet we cannot wish that Bacon's wit had been less luxuriant. For, to say nothing of the pleasure which it affords, it was in the vast majority of cases employed for the purpose of making obscure truth plainof making repulsive truth attractive--of fixing in the mind forever truth which might otherwise have made but a transient impression. The poetical faculty was powerful in Bacon's mind; but not, like his wit, so powerful as occasionally to usurp the place of his reason, and to tyrannize over the whole man. No imagination was ever at once so strong and so thoroughly subjugated. It never stirred but at a signal from good sense. It stopped at the first check from good sense. Yet though disciplined to such obedience, it gave noble proofs of its vigor. In truth, much of Bacon's life was passed in a visionary world, * See some interesting remarks on this subject in Bishop Berkeley's Minute Philosopher.' Dialogue IV. ten in the book of nature, and which, with time and patience, will be read there. He knew that all the wonders wrought by all the talismans in fable were trifles when compared to the wonders which might reasonably be expected from the philosophy of fruit; and, that if his words sank deep into the minds of men, they would produce effects such as superstition had never ascribed to the incantations of Merlin and Michael Scot. It was here that he loved to let his imagination loose. He loved to picture to himself the world as it would be when his philosophy should, in his own noble phrase, 'have enlarged the bounds of human empire. We might refer to many instances. But we will content ourselves with the strongest-the description of the 'House of Solomon' in the 'New Atlantis.' By most of Bacon's contemporaries, and by some people of our time, this remarkable passage would, we doubt not, be considered as an ingenious rhodomontade,--a counterpart to the adventures of Sinbad or Baron Munchausen. The truth is, that there is not to be found in any human composition a passage more eminently distinguished by profound and serene wisdom. The boldness and originality of the fiction is far less wonderful than the nice discernment which carefully excluded from that long list of prodigies every thing that can be pronounced impossible; every thing that can be proved to lie beyond the mighty magic of induction and of time. Already some parts, and not the least startling parts, of this glorious prophecy have been accomplished, even according to the letter; and the whole, construed according to the spirit, is daily accomplishing all around us. One of the most remarkable circumstances in the history of Bacon's mind, is the order in which its powers expanded themselves. With him the fruit came first and remained till the last the blossoms did not appear till late. In general, the development of the fancy is to the development of the judgment what the growth of a girl is to the growth of a boy. The fancy attains at an earlier period to the perfection of its beauty, its power, and its fruitfulness; and, as it is first to ripen, it is also first to fade. It has generally lost something of its bloom and freshness before the sterner faculties have reached maturity; and is commonly withered and barren while those faculties still retain all their energy. It rarely happens that the fancy and the judgment grow together. It happens still more rarely that the judgment grows faster than the fancy. This seems, however, to have been the case with Bacon. His boyhood and youth appear to have been singularly se *New Atlantis.' out many fears and distastes; and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. We see in needle works and embroideries it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground. Judge therefore of the pleasure of the heart by the odors, most fragrant when they are incensed or crushed; for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best discover virtue.' It is by the Essays' that Bacon is best known to the multitude. The Novum Organum and the De Augmentis are much talked of, but little read. They have produced indeed a vast effect on the opinions of mankind; but they have produced it through the operations of intermediate agents. They have moved the intel date. His gigantic scheme of philosophical reform is said by some writers to have been planned before he was fifteen; and was undoubtedly planned while he was still young. He observed as vigilantly, meditated as deeply, and judged as temperately, when he gave his first work to the world as at the close of his long career. But in eloquence, in sweetness, and variety of expres-pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like precious sion, and in richness of illustration, his later writings are far superior to those of his youth. In this respect the history of his mind bears some resemblance to the history of the mind of Burke. The treatise on the 'Sublime and Beautiful,' though written on a subject which the coldest metaphysician could hardly treat without being occasionally betrayed into florid writing, is the most unadorned of all Burke's works. It appeared when he was twenty-five or twenty-six. When, at forty, he wrote the 'Thoughts on the causes of the existing Dis-lects which have moved the world. It is in the 'Essays' contents,' his reason and his judgment had reached their full maturity; but his eloquence was still in its splendid dawn. At fifty, his rhetoric was quite as rich as good taste would permit; and when he died, at almost seventy, it had become ungracefully gorgeous. In his youth he wrote on the emotions produced by mountains and cascades; by the master pieces of painting and sculpture; by the faces and necks of beautiful women; in the style of a parliamentary report. In his old age, he discussed treaties and tariffs in the most fervid and brilliant language of romance. It is strange that the essay on the 'Sublime and Beautiful,' and the 'Letter to a Noble Lord,' should be the productions of one man. But is far more strange that the essay should have been a production of his youth, and the letter of his old age. alone that the mind of Bacon is brought into immediate contact with the minds of ordinary readers. There, he opens an exoteric school, and he talks to plain men in language which every body understands, about things in which every body is interested. He has thus enabled those who must otherwise have taken his merits on trust to judge for themselves; and the great body of readers have, during several generations, acknowledged that the man who has treated with such consummate ability questions with which they are familiar, may well be supposed to deserve all the praise bestowed on him by those who have sat in his inner school. Without any disparagement to the admirable treatise De Augmentis, we must say that, in our judgment, Bacon's greatest performance is the first book of the Novum Organum. All the peculiarities of his extraordinary mind are found there in the highest perfection. Many of the aphorisms, but particularly those in which he gives examples of the influence of the idola, show a nicety of observation that has never been surpassed. Every part of the book blazes with wit, but with wit which is employed only to illustrate and decorate truth. No book ever made so great a revolution in the mode of think We will give very short specimens of Bacon's two styles. In 1597, he wrote thus:-'Crafty men contemn studies; simple men admire them: and wise men use them; for they teach not their own use: that is a wisdom without them, and won by observation. Read not to contradict, nor to believe, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested. Reading makething-overthrew so many prejudices-introduced so a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact And therefore if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, have a present wit; and if he read little, have much cunning to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise, poets witty, the mathematics subtle, natural philosophy deep, morals grave, logic and rhetoric able to contend.' It will hardly be disputed that this is a passage to be 'chewed and digested.' We do not believe that Thucydides himself has any where compressed so much thought into so small a space. man. many new opinions. Yet no book was ever written in a less contentious spirit. It truly conquers with chalk and not with steel. Proposition after proposition enters into the mind, is received not as an invader, but as a welcome friend,—and though previously unknown, becomes at once domesticated. But what we most admire is the vast capacity of that intellect which, without effort, takes in at once all the domains of science, all the past, the present, and the future,-all the errors of two thousand years,-all the encouraging signs of the passing times, all the bright hopes of the coming age. Cowley, In the additions which Bacon afterwards made to the who was among the most ardent, and not among the 'Essays,' there is nothing superior in truth or weight least discerning followers of the new philosophy, has, to what we have quoted. But his style was constantly in one of his finest poems, compared Bacon to Moses becoming richer and softer. The following passage, standing on Mount Pisgah. It is to Bacon, we think, first published in 1625, will show the extent of the as he appears in the first book of the Novum Organum, change-Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testa- that the comparison applies with peculiar felicity. ment; adversity is the blessing of the New, which car- There we see the great law-giver looking round from rieth the greater benediction and the clearer evidence of his lonely elevation on an infinite expanse; behind him God's favor. Yet, even in the Old Testament, if you a wilderness of dreary sands and bitter waters in which listen to David's harp you shall hear as many hearse- successive generations have sojourned, always moving, like airs as carols; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost yet never advancing, reaping no harvest and building hath labored more in describing the afflictions of Job no abiding city; before him a goodly land, a land of than the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not with-promise, a land flowing with milk and honey. While |