When the Memnonium was in all its glory,
And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are tremendous!

Speak! for thou long enough hast acted dumby;
Thou hast a tongue; come, let us hear its tune;
Thou 'rt standing on thy legs above ground, mummy!
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon.

Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures,
But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features.

Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect

To whom should we assign the Sphynx's fame? Was Cheops or Cephrones architect

Of either pyramid that bears his name?
Is Pompey's pillar really a misnomer?

Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer?
Perhaps thou wert a mason, and forbidden

By oath to tell the secrets of thy trade-
Then say, what secret melody was hidden

In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise play'd? Perhaps thou wert a priest-if so, my struggles Are vain, for priestcraft never owns its juggles. Perchance that very hand, now pinion'd flat,

Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass,
Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat,

Or doff'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass,
Or held, by Solomon's own invitation,
A torch at the great Temple's dedication.

I need not ask thee if that hand, when arm'd,
Has any Roman soldier maul'd and knuckled,
For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalm'd,
Ere Romulus and Remus had been suckled:
Antiquity appears to have begun

Long after thy primeval race was run.

Thou couldst develope, if that wither'd tongue

Might tell us what those sightless orbs have seen,
How the world look'd when it was fresh and young,
And the great deluge still had left it green;

Or was it then so old, that history's pages
Contain'd no record of its early ages?

Still silent, incommunicative elf!

Art sworn to secrecy? then keep thy vows;

But pr'ythee tell us something of thyself;

Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house ;

Since in the world of spirits thou hast slumber'd,

What hast thou seen? what strange adventures number'd?

Since first thy form was in this box extended,

We have, above ground seen some strange mutation:

The Roman empire has begun and ended,

New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations,
And countless kings have into dust been humbled,
Whilst not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.

Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head,
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses,
March'd armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread,
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis,

And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder,
When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder?

If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd,

The nature of thy private life unfold :

A heart has throbb'd beneath that leathern breast,
And tears adown that dusky cheek have roll'd :
Have children climb'd those knees, and kiss'd that face?
What was thy name and station, age and race?
Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead!

Imperishable type of evanescence !

Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed,
And standest undecay'd within our presence,
Thou wilt hear nothing till the judgment morning,
When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning.
Why should this worthless ligament endure,

If its undying guest be lost for ever?
Oh, let us keep the soul embalm'd and pure

In living virtue, that, when both must sever,
Although corruption may our frame consume,
The immortal spirit in the skies may bloom.

266.-OF THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. [ROBERT LEIGHTON, Archbishop of Glasgow, was the son of a Presbyterian clergyman, who was one of the many sufferers for conscience-sake in the reign of Charles I. He was born in 1611, at Edinburgh. The honours of Episcopacy were almost forced upon him in the reign of Charles II.; but he resigned his Archbishopric, and ended his life, in 1084, in privacy and seclusion. His theological works are of the very highest order.]

There are many things that keep mankind employed, particularly business, or rather trifles; for so the affairs, which are in this world considered as most im portant, ought to be called when compared to that of minding our own valuable concerns, knowing ourselves, and truly consulting our highest interests; but how few are there that make this their study! The definition you commonly give of man is, that he is a rational creature; though to be sure, it is not applicable to the generality of mankind, unless you understand that they are such, not actually, but in power only, and that very remote. They are, for the most part at least, more silly and foolish than children, and, like them, fond of toys and rattles; they fatigue themselves, running about and sauntering from place to place, but do nothing to purpose.

What a wonder it is that souls of a heavenly original have so far forgot their native country, and are so immersed in dirt and mud, that there are few men who frequently converse with themselves about their own state, thinking gravely of their original and their end, seriously laying to heart, that, as the poet expresses it,

"Good and evil are set before mankind:" and who, after mature consideration, not only think it the most wise and reasonable course, but are also fully resolved to exert themselves to the utmost, in order to arrive at a sovereign contempt of earthly things, and aspire to those enjoyments that are Divine and eternal. For our parts, I am fully persuaded we shall be of this mind, if we seriously reflect upon what has been said. For if there is, of necessity, a complete, permanent, and satisfying good intended for man, and no such good is to be found in the earth or earthly things, we must proceed farther, and look for it somewhere else; and, in consequence of this, conclude that man is not quite extinguished by death, but removes to another place, and that the human soul is by all means immortal.

Many men have added a great variety of different arguments to support this conclusion, some of them strong and solid, and others, to speak freely, too metaphysical, and of little strength, especially as they are as obscure, as easily denied, and as hard to be proved, as that very conclusion in support of which they are adduced.

They who reason from the immaterial nature of the soul, and from its being infused into the body, as also from its method of operation, which is confined to none of the bodily organs, may easily prevail with those who believe these principles, to admit the truth of the conclusion they draw from them: but if they meet with any who obstinately deny the premises, or even doubt the truth of them, it will be a matter of difficulty to support such hypothesis with clear and conclusive arguments. If the soul of man was well acquainted with itself, and fully understood its own nature, if it could investigate the nature of its union with the body, and the method of its operation therein, we doubt not but from thence it might draw these and other such arguments of its immortality: but since, shut up in the prison of a dark body, it is so little known, and so incomprehensible to itself, and since, in so great obscurity, it can scarce, if at all, discover the least of its own features and complexion, it would be a very difficult matter for it to say much concerning its internal nature, or nicely determine the methods of its operation. But it would be surprising if any one should deny that the very operations it performs, especially those of the more noble and exalted sort, are strong marks and conspicuous characters of its excellence and immortality.

Nothing is more evident than that, besides life, and sense, and animal spirits, which he has in common with the brutes, there is in man something more exalted, more pure, and that more nearly approaches to Divinity. God has given to the former a sensitive soul, but to us a mind also; and, to speak distinctly, that spirit which is peculiar to man, and whereby he is raised above all other animals, ought to be called mind rather than soul. Be this as it may, it is hardly possible to say how vastly the human mind excels the other with regard to its wonderful powers, and, next to them, with respect to its works, devices, and inventions. For it performs such great and wonderful things, that the brutes, even those of the greatest sagacity, can neither imitate, nor at all understand, much less invent. Nay, man, though he is much less in bulk, and inferior in strength to the greatest part of them, yet, as lord and king of them all, he can, by surprising means, bend and apply the strength and industry of all the other creatures, the virtues of all herbs and plants, and, in a word, all the parts and powers of this visible world, to the convenience and accommodation of his own life. He also builds cities, erects commonwealths, makes laws, conducts armies, fits out fleets, measures not only the earth, but the heavens also, and investigates the motions of the stars. He foretells eclipses many years before they happen; and, with very little difficulty, sends his thoughts to a great distance, bids them visit the remotest cities and countries, mount above the sun and the stars, and even the heavens themselves.

But all these things are inconsiderable, and contribute but little to our present

purpose, in respect of that one incomparable dignity that results to the human mind from its being capable of religion, and having indelible characters thereof naturally stamped upon it. It acknowledges a God, and worships him; it builds temples to his honour; it celebrates his never enough exalted majesty with sacrifices, prayers, and praises; depends upon his bounty; implores his aid; and so carries on a constant correspondence with heaven: and, which is a very strong proof of its being originally from heaven, it hopes at last to return to it. And truly, in my judgment this previous impression and hope of immortality and these earnest desires after it, are a very strong evidence of that immortality. These impressions, though in most men they lie overpowered and almost quite extinguished by the weight of their bodies, and an extravagant love to present enjoyments; yet, now and then, in time of adversity, break forth and exert themselves, especially under the pressure of severe distempers, and at the approaches of death. But those whose minds are purified, and their thoughts habituated to Divine things, with what constant and ardent wishes do they breathe after that blessed immortality? How often do their souls complain within them that they have dwelt so long in these earthly tabernacles! Like exiles, they earnestly wish, make interest, and struggle hard, to regain their native country. Moreover, does not that noble neglect of the body and its senses, and that contempt of all the pleasures of the flesh, which these heavenly souls have attained, evidently show that, in a short time, they will be taken from hence, and that the body and soul are of a very different and almost contrary nature to one another; that, therefore, the duration of the one depends not upon the other, but is quite of another kind; and that the soul, set at liberty from the body, is not only exempted from death, but, in some sense, then begins to live, and then first sees light? Had we not this hope to support us, what ground should we have to lament our first nativity, which placed us in a life so short, so destitute of good, and so crowded with miseries; a life which we pass entirely in grasping phantoms of felicity, and suffering real calamities! So that, if there were not, beyond this, a life and happiness that more truly deserves these names, who can help seeing that, of all creatures, man would be the most miserable, and, of all men, at the best, the most unhappy?

For, although every wise man looks upon the belief of the immortality of the soul, as one of the great and principal supports of religion, there may possibly be some rare, exalted, and truly divine minds, who would choose the pure and noble path of virtue for its own sake, would constantly walk in it, and, out of love to it, would not decline the severest hardships, if they should happen to be exposed to them on its account. Yet it cannot be denied that the common sort of Christians, though they are really and at heart sound believers and true Christians, fall very short of this attainment, and would scarcely, if at all, embrace virtue and religion, if you take away the rewards; which I think the Apostle Paul hints at in this expression, If in this life only we have hope, we are of all men the most miserable. 1 Cor. xv. 19. The Apostle, indeed, does not intend these words as a direct proof of the immortality of the soul in a separate state, but an argument to prove the resurrection of the body; which is a doctrine near akin, and closely connected with the former. For that great restoration is added as an instance of the superabundance and immensity of the Divine goodness, whose pleasure it is, that not only the better and more divine part of man, which, upon its return to its original Source, is, without the body, capable of enjoying a perfectly happy and eternal life, should have a glorious immortality, but also that this earthly tabernacle, as being the faithful attendant and constant companion of the soul through all its toils and labours in this world, be also admitted to a share and participation of its heavenly and eternal felicity; that so, according to our Lord's expression, every faithful soul

may have returned into his bosom, good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over. Luke vi. 38.

Let our belief of this immortality be founded entirely on divine revelation; and then, like a city fortified with a rampart of earth drawn round it, let it be outwardly guarded and defended by reason, which, in this case, suggests arguments as strong and convincing as the subject will admit of. If any one, in the present case, promises demonstration, his undertaking is certainly too much; if he desires or expects it from another, he requires too much. There are, indeed, very few demonstrations in philosophy, if you except mathematical sciences, that can be truly and strictly so called; and, if we inquire narrowly into the matter, perhaps we shall find none at all; nay, if even the mathematical demonstrations are examined by the strict rules and ideas of Aristotle, the greatest part of them will be found imperfect and defective. The saying of that philosopher is, therefore, wise and applicable to many cases: "Demonstrations are not to be expected in all cases, but so far as the subject will admit of them." But if we were well acquainted with the nature and essence of the soul, or even its precise method of operation on the body, it is highly probable we could draw from thence evident and undeniable demonstrations of that immortality which we are now asserting; whereas, so long as the mind of man is so little acquainted with its own nature, we must not expect any such.

But that unquenchable thirst of the soul, which we have already mentioned, is a strong proof of its divine nature; a thirst not to be allayed with the impure and turbid waters of any earthly good, or of all worldly enjoyments taken together. It thirsts after the never-failing fountain of good, according to that of the Psalmist, As the hart panteth after the water-brooks. It thirsts after a good, invisible, immaterial, and immortal, to the enjoyment whereof the ministry of a body is so far from being absolutely necessary, that it feels itself shut up and confined by that to which it is now united, as by a partition wall, and groans under the pressure of it. And those souls that are quite insensible of this thirst, are certainly buried in the body as in the carcass of an impure hog; nor have they so entirely divested themselves of this appetite we have mentioned, nor can they possibly so divest themselves of it, as not to feel it severely to their great misery, sooner or later, either when they awake out of their lethargy within the body, or when they are obliged to leave it. To conclude: Nobody, I believe, will deny that we are to form our judgment of the true nature of the human mind, not from the sloth and stupidity of the most degenerate and vilest of men, but from the sentiments and fervent desires of the best and wisest of the species.

These sentiments concerning the immortality of the soul in its future existence not only include no impossibility or absurdity in them, but are also every way agreeable to sound reason, wisdom, and virtue, to the divine economy, and the natural wishes and desires of men; wherefore most nations have, with the greatest reason, universally adopted them, and the wisest in all countries and in all ages have cheerfully embraced them.