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Haney, John Louis

"Early Reviews of English Poets"


"No, for myself, so dark my fate
Through every turn of life has been,
Man and the world I so much hate,
I care not when I quit the scene."
But whilst, for the benefit of others, we thus avail ourselves of the
antidote supplied by his Lordship to his own poison, we would wish also
that he might feel the efficacy of it himself. Could we hope that so
humble a work as this would reach the lofty sphere in which he moves, we
would solemnly say to him: "You are wretched, but will nothing make you
happy? You hate all men; will nothing warm you with new feelings? You
are (as you say) hated by all; will nothing make you an object of
affection? Suppose yourself the victim of some disease, which resisted
many ordinary applications; but that all who used one medicine uniformly
pronounced themselves cured:--would it be worthy of a philosopher not
merely to neglect the remedy, but to traduce it? Such, however, my Lord,
is the fatuity of your own conduct as to the religion of Christ.
Thousands, as wretched as yourself, have found 'a Comforter' in Him;
thousands, having stepped into these waters, have been healed of their
disease; thousands, touching the hem of His garment, have found 'virtue
go out of it.


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