thanks to that kind Providence which has hitherto enabled me through good and evil fortune to maintain an even and well-regulated mind. Neither need I say with the pleasant authors of the “Rejected Addresses” in their harmless imitation of a most pernicious author, Thinking is but an idle waste of thought, And nought is every thing and every thing is nought. I have never worked in an intellectual treadmill, which as it had nothing to act on was grinding the wind. “He that thinks _ill_,” says Dean Young, (the poet's father,) “_prevents_ the Tempter, and does the Devil's business for him; he that thinks _nothing, tempts_ the Tempter, and offers him possession of an empty room; but he that thinks _religiously, defeats_ the Tempter, and is proof and secure against all his assaults.” I know not whether there be any later example where the word _prevent_ is used as in the Collect in its Latin sense. It is a man's own fault if he excogitate vain thoughts, and still more if he enunciate and embody them; but it is not always in his power to prevent their influx. Even the preventative which George Tubervile recommends in his monitory rhymes, is not infallible; Eschew the idle life! Flee, flee from doing nought! For never was there idle brain But bred an idle thought. Into the busiest brain they will sometimes intrude; and the brain that is over-busy breeds them. But the thoughts which are not of our own growth or purchase, and which we receive not from books, society, or visible objects, but from some undiscovered influence, are of all kinds. Who has a breast so pure, But some uncleanly apprehensions Keep leets and law days, and in session sit With meditations lawful?[3] I dare not affirm that some are suggestions of the enemy; neither dare I deny it: from all such _tela ignea_ and _tela venenata_, whatever be their origin, or whencesoever they come, God preserve us! But there are holy inspirations, which philosophy may teach us to expect, and faith to pray for. [Footnote 3: OTHELLO.] My present business is not with these, but it is with those conceptions which float into the solitary mind, and which if they are unrecorded pass away, like a dream or a rainbow, or the glories of an evening sky. Some of them are no better than motes in the sunbeams, as light, as fleeting, and to all apprehension as worthless. Others may be called seminal thoughts, which if they light not upon a thorny, or stoney, or arid field of intellect, germinate, and bring forth flowers, and peradventure fruit. Now it is in the Interchapters that part of this floating capital is vested; part of these waifs and strays impounded; part of this treasure-trove lodged; part of these chance thoughts and fancies preserved: part I say, because _J'ay mille autres pensers, et mille et mille et mille, Qui font qu'incessamment mon esprit se distile._[4] [Footnote 4: DES-PORTES.]