to a Subject upon
which I always meditate with great Delight, I mean the Immortality of
the Soul. I was yesterday walking alone in one of my Friend's Woods, and
lost my self in it very agreeably, as I was running over in my Mind the
several Arguments that establish this great Point, which is the Basis of
Morality, and the Source of all the pleasing Hopes and secret Joys that
can arise in the Heart of a reasonable Creature. I considered those
several Proofs, drawn;

_First_, From the Nature of the Soul it self, and particularly its
Immateriality; which, tho' not absolutely necessary to the Eternity of
its Duration, has, I think, been evinced to almost a Demonstration.

_Secondly_, From its Passions and Sentiments, as particularly from its
Love of Existence, its Horrour of Annihilation, and its Hopes of
Immortality, with that secret Satisfaction which it finds in the
Practice of Virtue, and that Uneasiness which follows in it upon the
Commission of Vice.

_Thirdly_, From the Nature of the Supreme Being, whose Justice,
Goodness, Wisdom and Veracity are all concerned in this great Point.

But among these and other excellent Arguments for the Immortality of the
Soul, there is one drawn from the perpetual Progress of the Soul to its
Perfection, without a Possibility of ever arriving at it; which is a
Hint that I do not remember to have seen opened and improved by others
who have written on this Subject, tho' it seems to me to carry a great
Weight with it. How can it enter into the Thoughts of Man, that the
Soul, which is capable of such immense Perfections, and of receiving new
Improvements to all Eternity, shall fall away into nothing almost as
soon as it is created? Are such Abilities made for no Purpose? A Brute
arrives at a Point of Perfection that he can never pass: In a few Years
he has all the Endowments he is capable of; and were he to live ten
thousand more, would be the same thing he is at present. Were a human
Soul thus at a stand in her Accomplishments, were her Faculties to be
full blown, and incapable of further Enlargements, I could imagine it
might fall away insensibly, and drop at once into a State of
Annihilation. But can we believe a thinking Being that is in a perpetual
Progress of Improvements, and travelling on from Perfection to
Perfection, after having just looked abroad into the Works of its
Creator, and made a few Discoveries of his infinite Goodness, Wisdom and
Power, must perish at her first se