REFLECTION

Occasioned by the perusal of a Maxim of Rockefoveault.

Ir, agreeably to a maxim of Rochefou cault, there be something in the misfortunes of our friends, which is not ungrate ful to us, the feeling will, I think, be traced to the conceptions, thence formed by us, that we ourselves, under our calamities and ills, are only partakers of the general lot; neither left unnoticed by providence, nor singled out for examples of peculiar inflic tion. These considerations create and cherish hope, and are qualified to administer it where it is most wanted, (viz.) to the feeble hearted and the timid; to those who have more confidence in the value, and, consequently, in the merited well-being of others, than of themselves. Whatever

happens, looking like severities or misfortunes, to those whom we esteem worthy of reverence from mankind, and whom we conceive to be living under the favour and protection of heaven, will, in its first im

pression, affect us with less gloom of despondency when it comes to our own bosoms; while, as time shall be allowed for the regulation of feeling; for consideration, for comparison-because all these are necessary-the depression of our spirits will be progressively alleviated, until they begin to feel the balmy power of hope, and sweetest expectation. This applies to the most awful, and most over, whelming, condition, to which humanity is exposed on earth, (viz.) the relinquishing of conscious existence. Even here, the remembrance that death is an universal requisition, a demand of heaven, to be liquidated by all who live and breathe, will tend to conciliate, or to mitigate, when it draws near unto our doors.

When we contemplate the host of those illustrious men, of ancient and of modern times; illustrious by reason of their exalted genius, their mighty talents, their penetrating spirit, and their splendid achievements; still more, when we associate with these, all the worthy and the good, who, like the former, have been required to obey the all-comprehensive summons, and have sunk into the grave; when we contemplate, steadily, and at leisure, upon

this undeviating destiny of man; as far as that destiny applies to the laws which govern him in this world; instead of feeling, as the 'dejected spirit is wont to do, that we are set apart, as it were, for death; leaving for others to inherit the good gifts of dear and joyous existence; walking with those they love, and by whom they are loved, in the light of the sun; enjoying the sweets and comforts of social intercourse; planning and anticipating delights which are to come-instead of laying all this to heart, we shall, by contemplating steadily on the vast and dignified host of our fellow-mortals who have been removed from this perishable state, be enabled, in greater or less degree, to reconcile our feelings to what, not as a partial imposition, but as an universal ordination, must happen to ourselves. Were it to be otherwise, then indeed we might be startled at finding our destiny an exception to the established law and regulation of nature. We might be amazed and shocked in beholding ourselves thrown out of the pale and the embracement of order and of providence. These, I think, might, under such peculiarity of dispensation, and on a comparative view, become the feelings of

the human mind. A consideration, of mighty power to conciliate, remains behind namely where the sad vacancy is already gazed upon the loss, by death, of those dear friends, or dearer relatives, with whom our own existence had positively become identified; and with whom, while we continue to linger here, all converse, all intercourse, except the still supporting one of faith and hope, is become impracticable. To those who have lost such relatives, or friends, a word more on the melancholy topic would manifest little less than insensibility and impertinence; while they who have not yet felt such deprivation, could hardly comprehend it.

Thus far ordinary speculation, or what the natural condition of things so obviously suggests, will be found to advance towards the reconcilement of the anxious mind to a cessation of present existence; or, let us rather say, to the present mode of that existence; because, even natural sentiment has always intimated, and natural reason has well argued, that death implies, not the extinction, the annihilation of conscious, thinking, and feeling identity, but a change in the fashion and mode of its continuance.

Thus far advances, let me repeat it, spe