Our manner of considering the memory, understand. ing, will, imagination, and the like faculties, is for the better enabling us to express ourselves in such abstracted subjects of speculation, not that there is any such division in the soul itself. Seeing, then, that the soul has many different faculties; or, in other words, many different ways of acting; that it can be intensely pleased or made happy by all these different faculties, or ways of acting; that it may be endowed with several latent faculties, which it is not at present in a condition to exert; that we cannot believe the soul is endowed with any faculty which is of no use to it; that, whenever any one of these faculties is transcendently pleased, the soul is in a state of happiness; and, in the last place, considering that the happiness of another world is to be the happiness of the whole man, who can question but that there is an infinite variety in those pleasures we are speaking of? and that this fulness of joy will be made up of all those pleasures which the nature of the soul is capable of receiving? We shall be the more confirmed in this doctrine, if we observe the nature of variety with regard to the mind of man. The soul does not care to be always in the same bent. The faculties relieve one another by turns, and receive an additional pleasure from the novelty of those objects about which they are conversant. Revelation likewise very much confirms this notion, under the different views which it gives us of our future happiness. In the description of the throne of God it represents to us all those objects which are able to gratify the senses and imagination: in very many places it intimates to us all the happiness which the understanding can possibly receive in that state, where all things shall be revealed to us, and we shall know even as we are known; the raptures of devotion, of divine love, the pleasure of conversing with our blessed Saviour, with an innu. merable host of angels, and with the spirits of just men made perfect, are likewise revealed to us in several parts of the holy writings. There are also mentioned those hierarchies or governments in which the blessed shall be ranged one above another, and in which we may be sure a great part of our happiness will likewise consist; for it will not be there as in this world, where every one is aiming at power and superiority; but, on the contrary, every one will find that station the most proper for him in which he is placed, and will probably think that he could not have been so happy in any other station. These, and many other particulars, are marked in divine revelation, as the several ingredients of our happiness in heaven, which all imply such a variety of joys, and such a gratification of the soul in all its different faculties, as I have been here mentioning. Some of the Rabbins tell us, that the cherubin are a set of angels who know most, and the seraphim a set of angels who love most. Whether this dis tinction be not altogether imaginary, I shall not here examine; but it is highly probable that, among the spirits of good men, there may be some who will be more pleased with the employment of one faculty than of another; and this perhaps according to those, innocent and virtuous habits or inclinations which have here taken the deepest root. I might here apply this consideration to the spirits of wicked men, with relation to the pain which they shall suffer in every one of their faculties, and the respective miseries which shall be appropriated to each faculty in particular. But, leaving this to the reflection of my readers, I shall conclude with observing how we ought to be thankful to our great Creator, and rejoice in the being which he has bestowed upon us, for having made the soul susceptible of pleasure by so many different ways. We see by what a variety of passages joy and gladness may enter into the thoughts of man; how wonderfully a human spirit is framed, to imbibe its proper satisfactions, and taste the goodness of its Creator. We may therefore look into ourselves with rapture and amazement, and cannot sufficiently express our gratitude to Him who has encompassed us with such a profusion of blessings, and opened in us so many capacities of enjoying them. There cannot be a stronger argument that God has designed us for a state of future happiness, and for that heaven which he has revealed to us, than that he has thus naturally qualified the soul for it, and made it a being capable of receiving so much bliss. He would never have made such faculties in vain, and have endowed us with powers that were not to be exerted on such objects as are suited to them. It is very manifest, by the inward frame and constitution of our minds, that he has adapted them to an infinite variety of pleasures and gratifications which are not to be met with in this life. We should, therefore, at all times, take care that we do not disappoint this his gracious purpose and intention towards us, and make those faculties, which he formed as so many qualifications for happiness and rewards, to be the instruments of pain and punishment. No. 601.] FRIDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1714. Man is naturally a beneficent creature. THE following essay comes from a hand which has entertained my readers once before: "Notwithstanding a narrow contracted temper be that which obtains most in the world, we must not therefore conclude this to be the genuine characteristic of mankind; because there are some who delight in nothing so much as in doing good, and receive more of their happiness at second-hand, or by rebound from others, than by direct and immediate sensation. Now, though these heroic souls are but few, and to appearance so far advanced above the grovelling multitude, as if they were of another order of beings, yet in reality their nature is the same; moved by the same springs, and endowed with all the same essential qualities, only cleared, refined, and cultivated. Water is the same fluid body in winter and in summer; when it stands stiffened in ice as when it flows along in gentle streams, gladdening a thousand fields in its progress. It is a property of the heart of man to be diffusive: its kind wishes spread abroad over the face of the creation; and if there be those, as we may observe too many of them, who are all wrapped up in their own dear selves, without any visible concern for their species, let us suppose that their good-nature is frozen, and, by the prevailing force of some contrary quality, restrained in its operations. I shall therefore endeavour to assign some of the principal checks upon this generous propension of the human soul, which will enable us to judge whether, and by what method, this most useful principle may be unfettered, and restored to its native freedom of exercise "The first and leading cause is an unhappy com- . plexion of body. The heathens, ignorant of the true source of moral evil, generally charged it on the obliquity of matter, which being eternal and independent, was incapable of change in any of its | each imagining all the rest to be embarked in an ID- terest that cannot take place but to his prejudice. "Another thing which suspends the operations of benevolence, the love of the world; proceeding from a false notion men have taken up, that an abundance of the world is an essential ingredient in the happiness of life. Worldly things are of such a quality as to lessen upon dividing, so that the more partners there are, the less must fall to every man's private share. The consequence of this is, that they look upon one another with an evil eye, "But, unluckily, mankind agree in making choice of objects which inevitably engage them in perpe tual differences. Learn, therefore, like a wise man, the true estimate of things. Desire not more of the world than is necessary to accommodate you in passing through it; look upon every thing beyond, not as useless only, but burdensome. Place Bot your quiet in things which you cannot have without putting others beside them, and thereby making them your enemies; and which, when attained, will give you more trouble to keep than satisfaction in the enjoyment. Virtue is a good of a nobler kind: it grows by communication; and so little resembles earthly riches, that the more hands it is lodged in, the greater is every mau's particular stock. So, by propagating and mingling their fires, not only all the lights of a branch together cast a more extensive brightness, but each single light burns with a stronger flame. And lastly, take this along with you, that if wealth be an instrument of pleasure, the greatest pleasure it can put into your power is that of doing good. It is worth considering that the organs of sense act within a narrow compass, and the appetites will soon say they have enough. Which of the two therefore is the happier man-he who, confining all his regard to the gratification of his own appetites, is capable but of short fits of pleaure-or the man who, reckoning himself a sharer i. the satisfactions of others, especially those which come to them by his means, enlarges the sphere of and, the most communicative is the happiest. And if you are in search of the seat of perfect love and friendship, you will not find it until you come to the region of the blessed, where happiness, like a re reshing stream, flows from heart to heart in an endless circulation, and is preserved sweet and untainted by the motion. It is old advice, if you have a favour to request of any one, to observe the softest times of address, when the soul, in a flash of good humour, takes a pleasure to show itself pleased Persous conscious of their own integrity, satisfies with themselves and their condition, and full of confidence in a Supreme Being, and the hope of immortality, survey all about them with a flow of good-will: as trees which like their soil, they shoot out in expressions of kindness, and bend beneath their own precious load, to the hand of the gatherer. Now if the mind be not thus easy, it is an infallible sign that it is not in its natural state: place the mind in its right posture, it will immediately discover its innate propensity to beneficence." No. 602.1 MONDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1714. THE following letter comes from a gentleman who, I find, is very diligent in making his ol servations, which I think too material not to be communicated to the public: "SIR, "In order to execute the office of love-casuist to Great Britein, with which I take myself to be invested by your paper of September 8, I shall make some further observations upon the two sexes in general, beginning with that which always ought to have the upper hand. After having observed, with much curiosity, the accomplishments which are apt to captivate female hearts, I find that there is no person so irresistible as one who is a man of importance, provided it be in matters of no consequence. One who makes himself talked of, though it be for the particular cock of his hat, or for prating aloud in the boxes at a play, is in the fair way of being a favourite. I have known a young fellow make his fortune by knocking down a constable; and may venture to say, though it may seem a paradox, that many a fair one has died by a duel in which both the combatants have survived. "About three winters ago I took notice of a young lady at the theatre, who conceived a passion for a notorious rake that headed a party of catcalls: and am credibly informed tha the emperor of the Mohocks married a rich widow within three weeks after having rendered himself formidable in the cities of London and Westminster. Scouring and breaking of windows have done frequent execution upon the sex. But there is no set of these male charmers who make their way more successfully than those who have gained themselves a name for intrigue, and have ruined the greatest number of reputations. There is a strange curiosity in the taking notice of him. There was, indeed, one who pulled off his hat to him; and, upon the ladies asking who it was, he told them it was a foreign minister that he had been very merry with the night before; whereas, in truth, it was the city common hunt. "He was never at a loss when he was asked any person's name, though he seldom knew any one under a peer. He found dukes and earls among the aldermen, very good-natured fellows among the privy-councillors, with two or three agreeable old rakes among the bishops and judges. "In short, I collected from his whole discourse that he was acquainted with everybody and knew nobody. At the same time, I am mistaken if he did not that day make more advances in the affections of his mistress, who sat near him, than he could have done in balf-a-year's courtship. "Ovid has finely touched this method of making love, which I shall here give my reader in Mr. Dry den's translation: Thus love in theatres did first improve, 66 Again, page the sixteenth. O when will come the day by heaven design'd, Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. female world to be acquainted with the dear man No. 603.] WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6. 1714. who has been loved by others, and to know what it is that makes him so agreeable. His reputation does more than half his business. Every one, that is ambitious of being a woman of fashion, looks out for opportunities of being in his company; so that, to use the old proverb, When his name is up he may lie a-bed.' "I was very sensible of the great advantage of being a man of importance upon these occasions ou the day of the king's entry, when I was seated in a balcony behind a cluster of very pretty country ladies, who had one of these showy gentlemen in the midst of them. The first trick I caught him at was bowing to several persons of quality whom he did not know; nay, he had the impudence to hem at a blue garter who had a finer equipage than ordinary; and seemed a little concern d at the impertinent huzzas of the mob that hindered his friend from Restore, my charms, My lingering Daphnis to my longing arms.-DRYDEN THE following copy of verses comes from one of my correspondents, and has something in it so original, that I do not much doubt but it will divert my readers:-* I. My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent, The Phoebe of this admired pastoral was Joanna, the daughter of the very learned Dr. Richard Bentley, archdeacon and prebendary of Ely, regius professor and master of Trinity College, Cambridge, who died in 1742. She was afterward married to Dr. Dennison Cumberland, Bishop of Clonfert in Killaloe in Ireland, and grandson of Dr. Richard Cumberland, Pishop of Peterborough. Ten thousand sweet pleasures I felt in my breast; With such a companion, to tend a few sheep. The fountain that wont to run sweetly along. And still as it murmurs do nothing but chide. When my lambkins around me would oftentimes play, V. My dog I was over well pleased to see Come wagging his tail to my fair one and me; And Phoebe was pleased, too, and to my dog said, Come hither, poor fellow; and patted his head. But now, when he's fawning, I with a sour look Cry, Sirrah! and give him a blow with my crook: And I'll give him another; for why should not Tray Be as dull as his master, when Phoebe's away? VI. When walking with Phoebe, what sights have I seeu! How fair was the Bower, how fresh was the green! What a lovely appearance the trees and the snade. The corn-fields and hedges. and every thing made! But now she has left me, though all are still there, They none of them now so delightful appear: "Twas nought but the magic, I find, of her eyes, Made so many beautiful prospects arise. VII. Sweet music went with us both all the wood thro', The lark, linnet, throstle, and nightingale too; Winds over us whisper'd, flocks by us did bleat, And chirp went the grasshopper under our feet. But now she is absent, though still they sing on, The woods are but lonely, the melody's gone: Her voice in the concert, as now I have found, Gave every thing else its agreeable sound. VIII. Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue? And where is the violet's beautiful blue? Does ought of its sweetness the blossom beguile? That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile? Ah rivals, I see what it was that you dress'd And made yourselves fine for: a place on her breast; You put on your colours to pleasure her eye, To be pluck'd by her hand, on her bosom to die. IX. How slowly Time creeps, till my Phoebe return! While amidst the soft zephyr's cool breezes I burn! Methinks if I knew whereabouts he would tread. I could breathe on his wings, and 'twould melt down the lead. Fly swifter, ye minutes, bring hither my dear, Nor will budge one foot faster for all thou canst say X Will no pitying power that hears me complain, Or cure my disquiet, or soften my pain? To be cur'd, thou must, Colin, thy passion remove, No. 604.] FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1714. Tu ne quæsieris (scire nefas) quem mihi, quem tibi, Ah, do not strive too much to know, What the kind gods design to do With me and thee.—CREECH. THE desire of knowing future events is one of the strongest inclinations in the mind of man. Indeed, an ability of foreseeing probable accidents is what, in the language of men, is called wisdom and prudence; but, not satisfied with the light that reason holds out, mankind hath endeavoured to penetrate more compendiously into futurity. Magic, oracles, omens, lucky hours, and the various arts of superstition, owe their rise to this powerful cause. As this principle is founded in self-love, every man is sure to be solicitous in the first place about his own fortune, the course of his life, and the time and manner of his death. If we consider that we are free-agents, we shall discover the absurdity of such inquiries. One of our actions, which we might have performed or neglected, is the cause of another that succeeds it, and so the whole chain of life is linked together. Pain, poverty, or infamy, are the natural product of vicious and imprudent acts, as the contrary blessings are of good ones; so that we cannot suppose our lot to be determined without impiety. A great enhancement of pleasure arises from its being unexpected; and pain is doubled by being foreseen. Upon all these, and several other accounts, we ought to rest satisfied in this portion bestowed on us; to adore the hand that hath fitted every thing to our nature, and hath not more displayed his goodness in our knowledge than in our ignorance. It is not unworthy observation, that superstitious inquiries into future events prevail more or less, in proportion to the improvement of liberal arts and useful knowledge in the several parts of the world Accordingly we find, that magical incantations remain in Lapland; in the more remote parts of Scotland they have their second sight; and several of our own countrymen see abundance of faines. In Asia this credulity is strong; and the greatest part of refined learning there consists in the know ledge of amulets, talismans, occult numbers, and the like. When I was at Grand Cairo I fell into the ac quaintance of a good-natured mussulman, whe promised me many good offices which he designà to do me when he became the prime-minister, whi was a fortune bestowed on his imagination by a doctor very deep in the curious sciences. At his repeated solicitations I went to learn my destiny di this wonderful sage. For a small sum I had s promise, but was required to wait in a dark apartment until he had run through the preparatory ceremonies. Having a strong propensity, eres then, to dreaming, I took a nap upon the sofa where I was placed, and had the following vision, the particulars whereof I picked up the other day amung my papers. I found myself in an unbounded plain, where methought the whole world, in several habits and with different tongues, was assembled. The ma titude glided swiftly along, and I found in myself a strong inclination to mingle in the train. My eyes quickly singled out some of the splendid figures Several in rich caftans and glittering turbans bustled through the throng, and trampled over List bodies of those they threw down; until, to my great surprise, I found that the great pace they went only hastened them to a scaffold or a bowstring. Many beautiful damsels on the other side moved forward with great gaiety; some danced until they fell all along; and others painted their faces until they lost their noses. A tribe of creatures with busy looks falling into a fit of laughter at the misfortunes of the unhappy ladies, I turned my eyes upon them They were each of them filling his pockets with gold and jewels, and when there was no room left for more, these wretches, looking round with fear and horror, pined away before my face with famine and discontent. to it, with both of which I shall here present my reader : "MR. SPECTATOR, Finding that you have entertained a useful person in your service in quality of love-casuist, I apply myself to you, under a very great difficulty, that hath for some months perplexed me. I have a couple of humble servants, one of which I have no aversion to: the other I think of very kindly. The first hath the reputation of a man of good sense, and is one of those people that your sex are apt to value. My spark is reckoned a coxcomb among the men, but is a favourite of the ladies. If I marry the man of worth as they call him, I shall oblige my parents, and improve my fortune: but with my dear beau I promise myself happiness, although not a jointure. Now I would ask you, whether I should consent to lead my life with a man that I have only no objection to, or with him against whom all objections to me appear frivolous. I am determined to follow the casuist's advice, and I dare say he will not put me upon so serious a thing as matrimony contrary to my inclinations. "I am, &c. "FANNY FICKLE. About half an hour ago he maintained to my face that a patch always implies a pimple." This prospect of human misery struck me dumb for some miles. Then it was that, to disburden my mind, I took pen and ink, and did every thing that has since happened under my office of Spectator. While I was employing myself for the good of mankind, I was surprised to meet with very unsuitable returns from my fellow-creatures. Never was poor author so beset with pamphleteers, who sometimes marched directly against me, but oftener shot at me from strong bulwarks, or rose up suddenly in ambush. They were of all characters and capaci- "P. S. I forgot to tell you that the pretty genties; some with eusigus of diguity, and others in tleman is the most complaisant creature in the liveries; but what most surprised me was to see world, and is always of my mind; but the other, two or three in black gowns among my enemies. It forsooth, fancies he hath as much wit as myself, was no small trouble to me, sometimes to have a slights my lapdog, and hath the insolence to contraman come up to me with an angry face, and re-dict me when he thinks I am not in the right. proach me for having lampooned him when I had never seen or heard of him in my life. With the ladies it was otherwise; many became my enemies for not being particularly pointed out as there were others who resented the satire which they imagined I had directed against them. My great comfort was in the company of half a dozen friends, who I found since were the club which I have so often mentioned in my papers. I laughed often at Sir Roger in my sleep, and was the more diverted with Will Honeycomb's gallantries (when we after ward became acquainted), because I had foreseen his marriage with a farmer's daughter. The regret which arose in my mind upon the death of my companions, my anxieties for the public, and the many calamities still fleeting before my eyes. made me repent my curiosity; when the magician entered and awakened me, by telling me (when it was too late) that he was just going to begin. the room, N. B. I have only delivered the prophecy of that part of my life which is past, it being inconvenient to divulge the second part until a more proper opportunity. As I look upon it to be my duty rather to side with the parents than the daughter, I shall propose some considerations to my gentle querist, which may incline her to comply with those under whose direction she is; and at the same time convince her that it is not impossible but she may, in time, have a true affection for him who is at prescut indifferent to her; or, to use the old family maxin, that, "if she marries first, love will come after." The only objection that she seems to insinuate against the gentleman proposed to her, is his want of complaisance, which, I perceive, she is very willing to return. Now I can discover from this very circumstance, that she and her lover, whatever they may think of it, are very good friends in their hearts. It is difficult to determine whether love delights more in giving pleasure or pain. Let Miss Fickle ask her own heart, if she doth not take a secret pride in making this man of good sense look very silly. Hath she ever been better pleased than when her behaviour hath made her lover ready to hang himself; or doth she ever rejoice more than when she thinks she hath driven him to the very brink of a purling stream? Let her consider, at the same time, that it is not impossible but her lover may have discovered her tricks, and hath a mind to VIRG. Georg. ii. 51. give her as good as she brings. I remember a They change their savage mind, handsome young baggage that treated a hopeful Their wildness lose, and, quitting nature's part, Greek of my acquaintance, just come from Oxford, Obey the rules and discipline of art.-DRYDEN. as if he had been a barbarian. The first week after HAVING perused the following letter, and finding his rival's box, and apparently touched the enemy's she had fixed him she took a pinch of snuff out of it to run upon the subject of love, I referred it to little finger. She became a professed enemy to the the learned casuist, whom I have retained in my arts and sciences, and scarce ever wrote a letter to service for speculations of that kind. He returned it to me the next morning with his report annexed him without wilfully mispelling his name. No. 605.1 MONDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1714. The hirelings and black gowns employed by the administration in the last year of the Queen's reign, Dr. Sift, Prior, Atterbury, Dr. Friend, Dr. King, Mr. Oidsworth, Mrs. D Manley, and the writers of the Examiner, &c. The young scholar, to be even with her, railed at |