ually capable of enjoying pleasure, happiness, and
rapture, or of suffering pain, wretchedness, and misery, it is surely
worthy of an inquiry, whether there be not such a thing as a science
of life; whether method, economy, and fertility of expedients be not
applicable to enjoyment, and whether there be not a want of dexterity
in pleasure, which renders our little scantling of happiness still
less; and a profuseness, an intoxication in bliss, which leads to
satiety, disgust, and self-abhorrence. There is not a doubt but that
health, talents, character, decent competency, respectable friends,
are real substantial blessings; and yet do we not daily see those who
enjoy many or all of these good things contrive notwithstanding to be
as unhappy as others to whose lot few of them have fallen? I believe
one great source of this mistake or misconduct is owing to a certain
stimulus, with us called ambition, which goads us up the hill of life,
not as we ascend other eminences, for the laudable curiosity of
viewing an extended landscape, but rather for the dishonest pride of
looking down on others of our fellow-creatures, seemingly diminutive
in humbler stations, &c &c.

_Sunday, 14th February, 1790._

God help me! I am now obliged to

"Join night to day, and Sunday to the week."[197]

If there be any truth in the orthodox faith of these churches, I am
d--mned past redemption, and what is worse, d--mned to all eternity. I
am deeply read in Boston's Four-fold State, Marshal on Sanctification,
Guthrie's Trial of a Saving Interest, &c.; but "there is no balm in
Gilead, there is no physician there," for me; so I shall e'en turn
Arminian, and trust to "sincere though imperfect obedience."

_Tuesday, 16th._

Luckily for me, I was prevented from the discussion of the knotty
point at which I had just made a full stop. All my fears and care are
of this world: if there is another, an honest man has nothing to fear
from it. I hate a man that wishes to be a Deist: but I fear, every
fair, unprejudiced inquirer must in some degree be a sceptic. It is
not that there are any very staggering arguments against the
immortality of man; but like electricity, phlogiston, &c., the subject
is so involved in darkness, that we want data to go upon. One thing
frightens me much: that we are to live for ever, seems _too good news
to be true._ That we are to enter into a new scene of existence,
where, exempt from want and pain, we shall enjoy oursel