The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
General
The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
American periodicals
bridle your imagination by cool reflection, and your sensuality by
self-denial, before you dare to grasp at the sway over the powers of
nature.”
“How insignificant do I appear to myself, Hiermanfor! don’t spare me,
and let me feel my whole nothingness.”
“Man has gained a great advantage, if he has learned to be sensible of
his weakness, however he ought also to remain no stranger to his
strength. My Lord, we are endowed with a heavenly gift, which is called
_reason_; but how widely does it differ from what one commonly thinks it
to be; reason ought first to be purified, and divested of every thing
that is not herself, before she can become to us an infallible guide.
Assisted by her, we subdue our sensuality, and soar above visible
nature. Sensuality is the only thing terrestrial in us: reason raises us
to the communication with superior spirits. The more we learn to subdue
the former, the more sway do we obtain over the powers of nature; the
more we purify the latter, the more intimately are we connected with
superior beings. Man is an intermediate being between an angel and an
animal; is the sole creature that, by means of his senses, is connected
with the physical world, and through his reason with higher spirits, and
consequently can act upon both. Do you divine nothing, my Lord? These
words imply an important truth; however it would lead me too far, if I
should attempt to unfold it at large.”
“O let me taste only a few drops from that sacred fountain!”
“At some other time, my Lord! important affairs bid me at present to
leave you. Will you accompany me to town?”
“With pleasure.”
His coach had been waiting for us at some distance from the
burying-place.--The Irishman ordered his coachman to make haste, and
told me on the road that I must depart for Ma***t in two days. At the
same time he promised to meet me the following night at eleven o’clock,
and to continue the subject on which he had been speaking. He set me
down at my house and took leave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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