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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Untitled Article
rbMisdrirelnfed frotn ihupiFessioM ^ lsrf ^^ the lenafe ; rVat the oreaattb&ig . ifacuity ^ slefeps tiot , any tttotettareni the itbaginativev Who hci 9 » otreasoned in ki » sfeep , fcnkedsyliogiBTn toisfikHgism titl the : ooneat erratum has terwnnateti in « . conclusion
strictly logical ? . Who has not dreamed that « Jsve * y dream was not a ^ dream 3 * 'Tis mystery alL' Ay , from the universe to an a torn > all , all is mystery to man , though made but a little Jowter than ih £ angels , and in ' form andseeming * it may be said -ofhim , * 3 a © w like a GrodV Nay , the more profound , the m © t * e , ' phik > saphic are his cogitations , the more he finds himself beset with
difficulties . The shallow-minded fanatic sees less mystery m the attributes -and providence of God than a deeply reflecting mind discovers in a blade of grass . However , I dreamed—I dreamed that-1 was dead . I—that pronoun , that simple letter—represents jaw * re mystery than a metaphysician could unravel in an elaborate Yoluniirious disquisition , and revelation has not developed to man
the full extent of its signification . For what is man ' s identity ? Mytmind changes , my body changes , and yet I am that I am , aml ^ no other . I dreamed that I was in my coffin ; that-my fingers and toes melted , that my skin frizzled up , and my musctes and sinews dissolved ^ like wax , and after leaving my skeleton bare , « imxeered in my ^ toffin , and passed off in a gaseous state to ^ min gle
with' the atKposphere . My eyes also melted and ran into my brain , and my brain in a ferment evaporated , and left my skull , ** the palace of the soul / as Byron has designated it , empty . Thej * e / Jay ^^ my mere bones—and yet conscious . At length my joints separated , the ribs parted from the sternum and spiney aiwJ the bones crumbled into dust , and the wind blew it all away . I had
thought , thought deeply of death ere I fell asleep . I had endeavoured to ^ rasp the truculent ty rant and hold him up , not for a transient glance , but for the fullgaze of my mental vision . I thought of death—of my own death . It was possible—it was likely— . that a few weeks only would pass away ere I should be his victim . No , not victim ; for death is God ' s messenger of mercy , to take
vis from this worWi ; and benignant is his . providence in weaning vis from it by , &iekness and other naeans ere he sends his summons . Yes , I ha ^> , as *; it jwere , anticipated death , and felt as i £ about to pass the awful , yet measureless line that divides time from eternity , wnfetV I fcuiik into slumber , and dreamed of being thus decomposed . , Bfiii surel y it was ' not all a dream . ' It waff > but the wonted p ^ enproeij ^ of nature exhibited more strikingly to my this mortal is
nti&ce . ' - Fhysipjpgy infQnus U 3 ^ hat ' ' incessantly passjmg away anaDeing renovated ^ —that a portion of us dies every moment ; surely there isy there rmi ^ t be , a portion of us which can never die ! tWhe&l ^ w ^ ftkelied ^ the moon was still looking into my window ( not i ^ £ S ^ smiling rt ^ Si ^ g ^^^ pyp ' ^ gn ^^ xhi ^^ Ta ^^ 9 *
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Dec. 2, 1835, page 812, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2652/page/56/
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