278 THE GOODNESS OF THE DEITY. 



ed, to two benefactions of our nature. One is, that she 

 works within certain limits; allows of a certain latitude, 

 witliin which health may be preserved, and within the con- 

 fines of which it only sutlers a graduated diminution. Dif- 

 ferent quantities of food, different decrees of exercise, dif- 

 ferent portions of sleep, different states of the atmosphere, 

 are compatible with the possession of health. So likewise 

 is it with the secretions and excretions, with many internal 

 functions of the body, and with the state, probably, of most 

 of its internal organs. They may vary considerably, not 

 only without destroying life, but without occasioning any 

 high degree of inconveniency. The other property of our 

 nature to which we are still more beholden, is its constant 

 endeavour to restore itself, when disordered, to its regular 

 course. The fluids of the body appear to possess a power 

 of separating and expelling any noxious substance which 

 may have mixed itself with them. This they do, in erup- 

 tive fevers, by a kind of despumation, as Sydenham calls 

 it, analogous in some measure to the intestine action by 

 which fermenting^ liquors work the yeast to the surface. The 

 solids, on their part, when their action is obstructed, not 

 only resume that action, as soon as the obstruction is remov- 

 ed, but they struggle with the impediment : they take an 

 action as near to the true one, as the difficulty and the 

 disorganization, with which they have to contend, will al- 

 low of. 



Of mortal diseases, the great use is to reconcile us to 

 death. The horror of death proves the value of life. But 

 it is in the power of disease to abate, or even extinguish 

 this horror ; v;hich it does in a wonderful manner, and, of- 

 tentimes, by a mild and imperceptible gradation. Every 

 man who has been placed in a situation to observe it, is 

 surprised with the change which has been wrought in him- 

 self, when he compares the view which he entertains of 

 death upon a sick bed, with the heart-sinking dismay with 

 which lie should some time ago have met it in health- 

 There is no similitude between the sensations of a man 

 led to execution, and the calm expirin:i of a patient at the 

 close of his disea.se. Death to him is only the last of a long 

 train of changes : in his progress through which, it is possi- 

 ble that he may experience no shocks or sudden transitions. 



Death itself, as a mode of removal and of succession, is 

 so connected with the whole order of our animal world, that 

 almost every thing in that world must be changed, to be 

 able to do without it. It may seem likewise impossible to 



