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THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM
The garden like a lady fair was cut,
That lay as if she slumbered in delight,
And to the open skies her eyes did shut.
The azure fields of Heaven were 'sembled right
In a large round, set with the flowers of light.
The flowers de luce, and the round sparks of dew.
That hung upon their azure leaves did shew
Like twinkling stars that sparkle in the evening blue.
Giles Fletcher.
FROM his cradle to his grave a gale of prosperity bore my friend Ellison
along. Nor do I use the word prosperity in its mere worldly sense. I
mean it as synonymous with happiness. The person of whom I speak seemed
born for the purpose of foreshadowing the doctrines of Turgot, Price,
Priestley, and Condorcet--of exemplifying by individual instance
what has been deemed the chimera of the perfectionists. In the brief
existence of Ellison I fancy that I have seen refuted the dogma, that in
man's very nature lies some hidden principle, the antagonist of bliss.
An anxious examination of his career has given me to understand that in
general, from the violation of a few simple laws of humanity arises the
wretchedness of mankind--that as a species we have in our possession the
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