We cannot profoundly meditate on the marvellous attributes of thought; we cannot attentively contemplate the vast empire which has been submitted to it, or reflect on the faculty with which it is endowed, of fixing the past, approaching the future, and bringing into a small compass the expanded views of nature, and of containing, if I may use the phrase, in one point the infinity of space, and the immensity of time; we cannot consider such a wonder, without continually uniting a sentiment of admiration to the idea of an end worthy of such a grand conception, worthy of Him whose wisdom we adore. Shall we, however, be able to discover this end, in the passing breath, in the fleeting moments which compose life? Shall we be able to discover it in a succession of phantoms, which seem destined only to trace the progress of time? Shall we, above all, perceive it in this general system of destruction? and ought we to annihilate in the same manner the insensible plant, which perishes without having known life; and the intelligent man, who every day explores the charms of existence? Let us not thus degrade our fate and nature; and let us judge and hope better of that which is unknown. Life, which is a means of improvement, should not lead to an eternal death; the mind, that prolific source of knowledge, should not be lost in the dark shades of forgetfulness; sensibility and all its mild and pure emotions, which so tenderly unite us to others, and enliven our days, ought not to be dissipated as if it were the vapour of a dream; conscience, that severe judge was not intended to deceive us; and piety and virtue are not vainly to elevate our views towards that model of affection, the object of our love and adoration. The Supreme Being, to whom all times belong, seems already to have sealed our union with futurity by endowing us with foresight, and placing in the recesses of our heart the passionate desire of a longer duration, and the confused sentiment which it gives of obtaining it. There are some relations still obscure, some connections between our moral nature and futurity; and perhaps our wishes, our hopes, are a sixth sense, a faint sense, if I may be allowed to express myself so, of which we shall one day experience the satisfaction. Sometimes also I imagine, that love, the most noble ornament of our nature, love, sublime enchantment, is a mysterious pledge of the truth of these hopes; for in disengaging us from ourselves, transporting us beyond the limits of our being, it seems the first step towards an immortal nature; and in presenting to us the idea, in offering to us the example of an existence out of ourselves, it seems to interpret by our feelings that which our minds cannot comprehend.