thinks "exceedingly probable," there will in the same probability be as much error, venality, prejudice, and ignorance, as at present. The happiest climates, instead of producing the happiest and wisest men, afford specimens of the reverse. If it were possible to give into these dreams of worlds of endless bliss, which are destined to arise out of the maturity of the universe, what are they to us, who are not destined to approach within centuries upon centuries of their existence?
All these visions are but other views of the millenium, and of those heavens, into which human nature is perpetually endeavouring to pry for that happiness which it cannot find in the present state of things. These idle expectations are the common solace of indolence, the common food of discontent. Mr. Shelley has served up the same dish, varied in the cooking, and with a more savory sauce;—but equally visionary, unsatisfactory, and unsubstantial:—Those who set down to the banquet will find only a feast of air.
FINIS.
Printed for W. Clarke, 396, Strand. |