THE FIRST OF A SERIES. 



There is implanted in the minds of all men of an 

 inquisitive turn, an inextinguishable desire to penetrate 

 to the origin of things ; and there can be no doubt 

 that such a desire, properly regulated, and judiciously 

 directed, may be productive of beneficial results. It 

 may teach us at once the strength and the weakness of 

 human reason; may prove that though the regions of 

 knowledge are extensive, rich, indefinitely diversified, 

 and incessantly augmenting, they are, notwithstanding, 

 limited. In surveying the present and past state of 

 science and art, it is extremely difficult to make such a 

 separation between what is known, and what was known, 

 as shall preserve us from imputing to mankind in any 

 given place and period, erroneous measures, either in 

 kind or degree, of theoretical or practical acquisition. 

 The obvious consequence is, that we are too apt, not- 

 withstanding the utmost caution, to suppose them 

 ignorant of matters which they well understood, or 

 conversant with others with which they were unac- 

 quainted ; to infer, in short, their knowledge from our 

 own, to try their conduct by our standards, and thus 

 often to censure, where we ought to applaud. 



If we attempt to pass to any of the extreme points, 

 towards which the understanding is often solicitous of 

 elevating itself, we shall find much that is exhilarating, 

 not a little that is perplexing. Take for a topic of 

 meditation, the first of any series; the first man, 

 the first ear of corn, the first day, the first night, 

 the first solar eclipse : examine it in itself, trace it in 

 its relations, dependencies , and results, and how soon 

 will the most capacious intellect be lost in the specula- 

 tion. Take, with this view, the first man, endeavour to 

 depict his thoughts or his feelings, on the first day or 



