Sancho, Charles Ignatius (1729-1780)

Letters of the Late Ignatius Sancho, An African

London

Printed by J. Nichols

1782

"David, whose heart and affections were naturally of the first kind (and who indeed had experienced blessings without number) pours fourth the grateful sentiments of his enraptured soul in the sweetest modulations of pathetic oratory;--the tender mercies of the Almighty are not less to many of his creatures--but their hearts--unlike the royal disposition of the shepherd King, are cold, and untouched with the sweet ray of gratitude."

THERE is something so amazingly grand--so stupendously affecting--in the contemplating the works of the Divine Architect, either in the moral, or the intellectual world, that I think one may rightly call it the cordial of the soul--it is the physic of the mind-- and the best antidote against weak pride--and the supercilious murmurings of discontent.--Smoaking my morning pipe, the friendly warmth of that glorious planet the sun--the leniency of the air--the chearful glow of the atmosphere--made me involuntarily cry, "Lord, "what is man, that thou in thy mercy "art so mindful of him! or what the son "of man, that thou so parentally carest "for him!" David, whose heart and affections were naturally of the first kind (and who indeed had experienced blessings without number) pours fourth the grateful sentiments of his enraptured soul in the sweetest modulations of pathetic oratory;--the tender mercies of the Almighty are not less to many of his creatures--but their hearts--unlike the royal disposition of the shepherd King, are cold, and untouched with the sweet ray of gratitude.--Let us, without meanly sheltering our infirmities under the example of others--perhaps worse taught--or possessed of less leisure for self-examination--let us, my dear M----, look into ourselves--and by a critical examination of the past events of our lives, fairly confess what mercies we have received--what God in his goodness hath done for us--and how our gratitude and praise have kept pace in imitation of the son of Jesse.--Such a research would richly pay us--for the end would be conviction--so much on the side of miraculous mercy--such an unanswerable proof of the superintendency of Divine Providence, as would effectually cure us of rash despondency--and melt our hearts--with devotional aspirations--till we poured forth the effusions of our souls in praise and thanksgiving.--When I sometimes endeavour to turn my thoughts inwards, to review the power or properties the indulgent all-wise Father has endow'd me with, I am struck with wonder and with awe--worm, poor insignificant reptile as I am, with regard to superior beings--mortal like myself.--Amongst, and at the very head of our riches, I reckon the power of reflection:--Where? where, my friend, doth it lie?--Search every member from the toe to the nose--all--all ready for action--but all dead to thought--it lies not in matter--nor in the blood--it is a party, which though we feel and acknowledge, quite past the power of definition--it is that breath of life which the Sacred Architect breathed into the nostrils of the first man--image of his gracious Maker--and let it animate our torpid gratitude--it rolls on, although diminished by our cruel fall, through the whole race--"We are fearfully and wonderfully made," &c. &c. were the sentiments of the Royal Preacher upon a self-review--but had he been blessed with the full blaze of the Christian dispensation--what would have been his raptures?--the promise of never, never-ending existence and felicity, to possess eternity--"glorious dreadful thought!"--to rise, perhaps, by regular progression from planet to planet--to behold the wonders of immensity--to pass from good to better--increasing in goodness--knowledge--love--to glory in our Redeemer--to joy in ourselves--to be acquainted with prophets, sages, heroes, and poets of old times--and join in symphony with angels.--And now, my friend, thou smilest at my futile notions--why preach to thee?--For this very good and simple reason, to get your thoughts in return.--You shall be my philosopher--my Mentor--my friend;--you, happily disengaged from various cares of life and family, can review the little world of man with steadier eye, and more composed thought, than your friend, declining fast into the vale of years, and beset with infirmity and pain.--Write now and then, as thought prompts, and inclination leads--refute my errors--where I am just give me your plaudit.--Your welfare in truly dear in my sight--and if any man has a share in my heart, or commands my respect and esteem, it is I---- M----.
(I.xliv, pp. 123-7; pp. 87-9)

Uncategorized::Temperature Light::Ray

Reading; text from DocSouth

Five entries in ESTC (1782, 1783, 1784). [Second edition in 1783, third in 1784.]

See Letters of the Late Ignatius Sancho, An African. In Two Volumes. To Which Are Prefixed, Memoirs of His Life (London: Printed by J. Nichols, 1782). <Link to text from Documenting the American South at UNC>

Reading Letters of the Late Ignatius Sancho, ed. Vincent Carretta (New York: Penguin, 1998).

07/11/2013