ge to shut herself up for ever in a strict nunnery,
appear to have been those mortal sins, of which she accuses herself,
added, perhaps to a few warm fancies of earthly love;
8. A frame of exquisite sensibility by nature, rendered more so by a
burning fever, which no doubt had some effect upon her brain, as she was
from that time subject to frequent fainting fits and 'deliquia':
9. Frightened at her Uncle's, by reading to him Dante's books of Hell
and Judgment, she confesses that she at length resolved on nunhood
because she thought it could not be much worse than Purgatory--and that
purgatory here was a cheap expiation for Hell for ever;
10. Combine these (and I have proceeded no further than the eleventh
page of her life) and think, how impossible it was, but that such a
creature, so innocent, and of an imagination so heated, and so well
peopled should often mistake the first not painful, and in such a frame,
often pleasurable approaches to 'deliquium' for divine raptures; and
join the instincts of nature acting in the body of a mind unconscious of
them, in the keenly sensitive body of a mind so loving and so innocent,
and what remains to be solved which the stupidity of most and the
roguery of a few would not simply explain?
11. One source it is almost criminal to have forgotten, and which p. 12.
of the first Part brought back to my recollection; I mean, the
effects--so super-sensual that they may easily and most venially pass
for supernatural, so very glorious to human nature that, though in truth
they are humanity itself in the contradistinguishing sense of that awful
word, it is yet no wonder that, conscious of the sore weaknesses united
in one person with this one nobler nature we attribute them to a
divinity out of us, (a mistake of the sensuous imagination in its
misapplication of space and place, rather than a misnomer of the thing
itself, for it is verily [Greek: ho theos en haemin ho oikeios theos],)
the effects, I mean, of the moral force after conquest, the state of the
whole being after the victorious struggle, in which the will has
preserved its perfect freedom by a vehement energy of perfect obedience
to the pure or practical reason, or conscience. Thence flows in upon and
fills the soul 'that peace which passeth understanding', a state
affronted and degraded by the name of pleasure, injured and
mis-represented even by that of happiness, the very corner stone of that
morality which cannot even in
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