Startled at the difference between such a writer and me, I have more than once cast aside my pen as an insidious enemy, that lures me from the substantial pursuits of life with an unreal mockery. Even the consolation of yielding an amusement to you cannot well be expected, and whilst I have been distracted in seeking a worthy motive for exertion, I have not been without apprehensions that I may, unconsciously, be influenced by the demon who, more than any other, revels in our infirmities. The demon who makes the taciturn more egregiously dull, and the volatile more absurdly loquacious; who makes ill-timed gravity more strongly contract its brows, and incessant levity more broadly relax its muscles.

The demon, at whose pernicious suggestion even moral deformities are frequently heightened. Surgeons, thus induced, will boast of an insensibility that they cannot feel; and libertines of profligacy that they never practised. The avaricious will falsely magnify his selfishness, and the prodigal his expenses. The liar will laugh at an exaggerated recital of his infamy, and the extortioner at an aggravated list of his oppressions. Nor do the infirmities of nature escape the malice of this universal counsellor. Dwarfs, at his suggestion, endeavour to appear smaller, and giants larger. The stammerer he urges to incessant conversation, and the freckled to an unnecessary nudity.

Whilst I was reflecting on the eccentricities which proceed from his persuasion, imagination presented him unexpectedly before me. His language was harmonioushis actions were profoundly respectful. Delight hung upon his lips, and irresistible conviction accompanied his communication. An unusual complacency expanded my

breast. I arose from an indolent recumbency, extended my arms in the attitude of oratory, and prepared to welcome him with all the figures of eloquence. When suddenly, approaching the fiend, his eyes were averted, and his face was distorted with laughter. He dissolved into air, and, as he vanished, I discovered that his name was Vanity.

LECTURE I.

PIETY has induced the declaration, that God makes nothing in vain; and truly, when we contemplate the world, no recess is unoccupied. We cannot, by penetrating the earth, discover a vacuity; we cannot exalt our vision beyond created objects; we cannot fathom the fulness of the

ocean.

ness.

With this infinity of being man converses by means of his senses. Every sense is peculiar. Its loss is irremediable by the others. Even to suggest, that no sense but seeing can inform us of sights; that no sense but hearing can inform us of sounds, seems absurd from its obviousStill this indisputableness exists no longer than we refrain from applying names to the information of our senses. If you assert that no sense but seeing can inform us of colours, you will be reminded of blind persons, who have discriminated colours by feeling. The fact may not be controvertible; but the word colour, when applied by you, is the name of a sight; and when used by the blind, it designates a feck A blind man who possessed

this intelligence, said that black was a singular roughness, and scarlet a delicate adhesion.

Again if you assert that hearing alone can inform us of thunder, you may be told of deaf persons who discover thunder by a concussion of the atmosphere. Here thunder is to you the name of a sound, but to them a sensation of feeling.

To avoid then an ambiguity, which is inherent in language, I will apply the term sights, to all the information that we derive from seeing; the term sounds, to all the information of hearing; and the term feels, tastes, and smells, to the information of the other senses. Hence, instead of saying that an orange is one existence, endued with several qualities, I shall estimate it as several existences, associated under one name, orange. Its appearance, I shall denominate the sight orange; its flavour, the taste orange; its odour, the smell orange; and its consistence, the feel orange. I shall adopt this phraseology, not to build thereon a theory, but to discriminate between the information of different senses.

This view of language is novel, and requires amplification. If I say a shadow is one existence, I shall be correct; the word names but one phenomenon-a sight. Persons who are void of vision can never know the signification of shadow. But if I say solidity is one existence, I shall be 'incorrect; the word names two phenomena-a sight and a feel.

Again light is one existence. The word signifies a sight only. To say that sunshine is one existence, is, however, incorrect. The word signifies both a sight and a feel. As a feel, the blind are conscious of sunshine, and discourse of it as understandingly as we; but when

we hear the blind, we must not permit the ambiguity of language to delude us; the sight sunshine they can pos sess no knowledge of—they speak of the feel.

Words which name thus a sight and a feel are numerous: among them are figure, magnitude, distance, and extension. I can see that the surface of this table possesses extension, or I can trace the surface, and feel extension. I can see that the table has magnitude, or I can clasp it, and feel the magnitude. I can see that our fire-place is distant, or I can walk towards it, and thus feel distance. These truths are evident, and you may wonder at their enunciation; yet, so prone are we to disregard what is obvious, that the simple property which permits a word to name phenomena of different senses, has enabled theorists to convert the realities of life into a fairy tale.

A universally admitted speculation of this character is, that distance, magnitude, figure, and extension, are not visible. This was originally suggested by Bishop Berkley. He perceived that there are in roundness two phenometra-a sight and a feel; while there is but one nameroundness. The unity which exists in the name he attributed to nature; hence, he decided that the feel is the true roundness, and that the sight possesses only an imaginary significance, from its uniform conjunction with the feel.

Saint Pierre states, that a philosopher, who lost his sight by gazing at the sun, imagined that the darkness which ensued proceeded from a sudden extinction of the sun. This ingenious sarcasm is frequently applicable to human conclusions. Thus Berkley never imagined that invisibility was predicable of roundness by means of a la