Here, therefore, in proof of this most fundamental truth, some plain arguments are offered; arguments derived from principles which infidels admit in common with believers; arguments which appear to me altogether irresistible; and such as, I am satisfied, will have great weight with all who give themselves the small trouble of looking seriously into their own bosoms, and of observing, with any tolerable degree of attention, what daily passes round about them in the world. If some arguments shall here occur, which others have declined, they are submitted, with all deference, to better judgments in this, of all points the most important. For, as to the being of a God, that is no longer disputed; but it is undisputed for this reason only, viz., because, where the least pretence to reason is admitted, it must for ever be indisputable. And of consequence no man can be betrayed into a dispute of that nature by vanity; which has a principal share in animating our modern combatants against other articles of our belief. NIGHT SIXTH. THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. PART I. She[28] (for I know not yet her name in heaven), Not early, like Narcissa, left the scene; Nor sudden, like Philander. What avail? This seeming mitigation but inflames; This fancied medicine heightens the disease. The longer known, the closer still she grew; And gradual parting is a gradual death. 'Tis the grim tyrant's engine, which extorts, By tardy pressure's still-increasing weight, From hardest hearts, confession of distress. 10 Oh, the long, dark approach through years of pain, Death's gallery! (might I dare to call it so) With dismal doubt, and sable terror, hung; Sick hope's pale lamp its only glimmering ray: There, fate my melancholy walk ordain'd, Forbid self-love itself to flatter, there. How oft I gazed, prophetically sad! How oft I saw her dead, while yet in smiles! 18 In smiles she sunk her grief to lessen mine. She spoke me comfort, and increased my pain. Like powerful armies trenching at a town, By slow, and silent, but resistless sap, In his pale progress gently gaining ground, Death urged his deadly siege; in spite of art, Of all the balmy blessings nature lends To succour frail humanity. Ye stars! (Not now first made familiar to my sight) And thou, O moon! bear witness, many a night He tore the pillow from beneath my head, Tied down my sore attention to the shock, 30 By ceaseless depredations on a life Dearer than that he left me. Dreadful post Of observation! darker every hour! Less dread the day that drove me to the brink, And pointed at eternity below; When my soul shudder'd at futurity; When, on a moment's point, th' important die Of life and death spun doubtful, ere it fell, And turn'd up life; my title to more woe.