SECTION VII.

ALTAMONT.

The following account of an affecting, mournful exit, is related by Dr. Young, who was present at the melancholy scene.

THE sad evening before the death of that noble youth, whose last hours suggested these thoughts, I was with him. No one was there, but his phyfician, and an intimate whom he loved, and whom he had ruined. At my coming in, he said,-" You and the phyfician are come too late. I have neither life nor hope. You both aim at miracles. You would raise the dead!"

Heaven, I faid, was merciful-" Or," exclaimed he,-" I could not have been thus guilty. What has it not done to bless, and to fave me?-I have been too ftrong for Omnipotence! I have plucked down ruin." I faid, the blessed Redeemer, -" Hold! hold! you wound me! -That is the rock on which I fplit-I denied his name!"

Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take any thing from the physician, he lay filent, as far as fudden darts of pain would permit, till the clock struck: Then with vehemence; - "Oh! time! time! it is fit thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart!-How art thou fled for ever! - A month!-Oh, for a single week! I ask not for years; though an age were too little for the much I have to do."

On my faying, we could not do too much: that heaven was a blessed place

"So much the worse. - 'Tis loft! 'tis loft! - Heaven is to me the feverest part of hell!"

Soon after I proposed prayer. "Pray you that can. I never prayed. I cannot pray:-Nor need I. Is not Heaven on my fide already? It closes with my confcience. Its severest strokes but fecond my own."

His friend being much touched, even to tears at this-(who could forbear? I could not)-with a most affectionate look, he said, "Keep those tears for thyself. I have undone thee. --Doft weep for me? that's cruel. What can pain me more?"

Here his friend, too much affected, would have left him." No, stay-thou still mayst hope;-therefore hear me. How madly have I talk'd! How madly haft thou listened, and believed! but look on my present state, as a full answer to thee, and to myself. This body is all weakness and pain; but my foul, as if stung up by torment to greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to reason; full mighty to fuffer. And that, which thes triumphs within the jaws of immortality, is, doubtless, immortal-And, as for a Deity, nothing lefs than an Almighty could inflict what I feel."

I was about to congratulate this passive, involuntary confefsor, on his asserting the two prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature, when he thus, very passionately :-" No, no! let me speak on.. I have not long to fpeak. -My much injured friend! my foul, as my body, lies in ruins; in scattered fragments of broken thought-Remorse for the paft, throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future, ftrikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for his stake; and bless Heaven for the flames! -that is not an everlasting flame; that is not an un quenchable fire."

How were we ftruck! yet, foon after, still more. With what an eye of diffraction, what a face of de

fpair! he cried out :-" My principles have poifoned my friend; my extravagance has beggared my boy! my unkindness has murdered my wife!-And is there another hell?-Oh! thou blafphemed, yet indulgent LORD GOD! Hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown!"

Soon after his understanding failed. His terrified imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or ever forgotten. And ere the fun (which, I hope, has seen few like him) arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched Altamont, expired!

If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of pain? How quick, how total, is their tranfit! In what a dismal gloom they fet for ever! How short, alas! the day of their rejoicing!-For a moment they glitterthey dazzle. In a moment, where are they? Oblivion covers their memories. Ah! would it did! Infamy fnatches them from oblivion. In the long-living annals of infamy their triumphs are recorded. Thy fufferings still bleed in the bosom, poor Altamont! of the heart-stricken friend for Altamont had a friend. He might have had many. His tranfient morning might have been the dawn of an immortal day. His name might have been gloriously enrolled in the records of eternity. His memory might have left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving friend, falutary to the fucceeding generation. With what capacities was he endowed! with what advantages, for being greatly good! But with the talents of an angel, a man may be a fool. If he judges amiss in the fupreme point, judging right in all elfe, but aggravates his folly; as it shows him wrong, though blessed with the best capacity of being right.

DR. YOUNG

CHAPTER VII.

DIALOGUES.

SECTION I.

DEMOCRITUS AND HERACLITUS *.

The Vices and Follies of Men Should' excite Compassion rather than Ridicule.

DEMOCRITUS.

I FIND it impossible to reconcile myself to a melan

And I am equally unable to approve of that vain philofophy, which teaches men to despise and ridicule one another. To a wife and feeling mind, the world appears in a wretched and painful light.

DEMOCRITUS,

Thou art too much affected with the state of things; and this is a fource of mifery to thee.

HERACLITUS.

And I think thou art too little moved by it. Thy mirth and ridicule bespeak the buffoon, rather than the philofopher. Does it not excite thy compafsion, to fee mankind so frail, fo blind, fo far departed from the rules of virtue?

* Democritus and Heraclitus were two ancient philosophers, the former of whom laughed, and the latter wept, at the errors and follies of mankind.

DEMOCRITUS.

I am excited to laughter, when I fee so much im

pertinence and folly.

HERACLITUS.

And yet, after all, they, who are the objects of thy ridicule, include, not only mankind in general, but the perfons with whom thou livest, thy friends, thy family, nay even thyfelf.

DEMOCRITUS.

I care very little for all the filly persons I meet with; and think I am justifiable in diverting myfelf with their folly.

HERACLITUS.

If they are weak and foolish, it marks neither wifdom nor humanity, to insult rather than pity them. But is it certain, that thou art not as extravagant as they are?

DEMOCRITUS.

I prefume that I am not; fince, in every point, my sentiments are the very reverse of theirs.

HERACLITUS.

There are follies of different kinds. By constantly amusing thyself with the errors and misconduct of others, thou mayst render thyself equally ridiculous and culpable.

DEMOCRITUS,

Thou art at liberty to indulge such sentiments; and to weep over me too, if thou hast any tears to spare. For my part, I cannot refrain from pleasing myself with the levities and ill-conduct of the world about me. Are not all men foolish or irregular in their lives?