only for an endeavour to prove that man is other bottom but self-love on which ta in nothing superior to beasts. In this school maintain a commerce, ever flourish? Reawas Mr. Hobbes instructed to speak after son, it is certain, would oblige every man the same manner, if he did not rather draw to pursue the general happiness as the his knowledge from an observation of his means to procure and establish his own; own temper; for he somewhere unluckily and yet, if besides this consideration, there lays down this as a rule, that from the were not a natural instinct prompting men similitudes of thoughts and passions of one to desire the welfare and satisfaction of man to the thoughts and passions of another, others, self-love, in defiance of the admo whosoever looks into himself, and consi- nitions of reason, would quickly run all ders what he doth when he thinks, hopes, things into a state of war and confusion. fears, &c. and upon what grounds, he As nearly interested as the soul is in the shall hereby read and know what are the fate of the body, our provident Creator thoughts and passions of all other men saw it necessary, by the constant returns upon the like occasions. Now we will of hunger and thirst, those importunate allow Mr. Hobbes to know best how he appetites, to put it in mind of its charge: was inclined; but, in earnest, I should be knowing that if we should eat and drink heartily out of conceit with myself, if I no oftener than cold abstracted speculation thought myself of this unamiable temper, should put us upon these exercises, and as he affirms, and should have as little then leave it to reason to prescribe the kindness for myself as for any body in the quantity, we should soon refine ourselves world. Hitherto I always imagined that out of this bodily life. And, indeed, it is kind and benevolent propensions were the obvious to remark, that we follow nothing original growth of the heart of man, and, heartily unless carried to it by inclinations however checked and overtopped by coun- which anticipate our reason, and, like a ter inclinations, that have since sprung up bias, draw the mind strongly towards it. within us, have still some force in the worst In order, therefore, to establish a perpetual of tempers, and a considerable influence on intercourse of benefits amongst mankind, the best. And, methinks, it is a fair step their Maker would not fail to give them towards the proof of this, that the most this generous prepossession of benevolence, beneficent of all beings is he who hath an if, as I have said, it were possible. And absolute fulness of perfection in himself; from whence can we go about to argue its who gave existence to the universe, and so impossibility? Is it inconsistent with selfcannot be supposed to want that which he love? Are their motions contrary? No communicated, without diminishing from more than the diurnal rotation of the earth the plenitude of his own power and hap-is opposed to its annual, or, its motion round piness. The philosophers before mentioned have indeed done all that in them lay to invalidate this argument; for, placing the gods in a state of the most elevated blessedness, they describe them as selfish as we poor miserable mortals can be, and shut them out from all concern for mankind, upon the score of their having no need of us. But if He that sitteth in the heavens wants not us, we stand in continual need of him; and surely, next to the survey of the immense treasures of his own mind, the most exalted pleasures he receives is from beholding millions of creatures, lately drawn out of the gulf of non-existence, rejoicing in the various degrees of being and happiness imparted to them. And as this is the true, the glorious character of the Deity, so in forming a reasonable creature he would not, if possible, suffer his image to pass out of his hands unadorned with a resemblance of himself in this most lovely part of his nature. For what complacency could a mind, whose love is as unbounded as his knowledge, have in a work so unlike himself; a creature that should be capable of knowing and conversing with a vast circle of objects, and love none but himself? What proportion would there be between the head and the heart of such a creature, its affections and its understanding? Or could a society of such creatures, with no

its own centre, which might be improved as an illustration of self-love, to that which whirls it about the common centre of the world, answering to universal benevolence. Is the force of self-love abated, or its interest prejudiced, by benevolence? So far from it, that benevolence, though a distinct principle, is extremely serviceable to selflove, and then doth most service when it is least designed.

But to descend from reason to matter of fact; the pity which arises on sight of persons in distress, and the satisfaction of mind which is the consequence of having removed them into a happier state, are instead of a thousand arguments to prove such a thing as a disinterested benevo lence. Did pity proceed from a reflection we make upon our liableness to the same ill accidents we see befall others, it were nothing to the present purpose; but this is assigning an artificial cause of a natural passion, and can by no means be admitted as a tolerable account of it, because children and persons most thoughtless about their own condition, and incapable of entering into the prospects of futurity, feel the most violent touches of compassion. And then, as to that charming delight which immediately follows the giving joy to another, or relieving his sorrow, and is, when the objects are numerous, and the kindness of importance, really inexpressi

chosen to build a smal. seat upon in the country is almost in the midst of a large wood. I was obliged, much against my will, to cut down several trees, that I might have any such thing as a walk in my gardens; but then I have taken care to leave the space, between every walk, as much a wood as I found it. The moment you turn either to the right or left, you are in a forest, where nature presents you with a much more beautiful scene than could have | been raised by art.

Instead of tulips or carnations, I can show you oaks in my garden of four hundred years standing, and a knot of elms that might shelter a troop of horse from the rain.

It is not without the utmost indignation that I observe several prodigal young heirs in the neighbourhood felling down the most glorious monuments of their ancestors' industry, and ruining, in a day, the product of ages.

ble, what can this be owing to but consciousness of a man's having done something praise-worthy, and expressive of a great soul? Whereas, if in all this he only sacrificed to vanity and self-love, as there would be nothing brave in actions that make the most shining appearance, so nature would not have rewarded them with this divine pleasure; nor could the commendations, which a person receives for benefits done upon selfish views, be at all more satisfactory than when he is applauded for what he doth without design; because, in both cases, the ends of self-love are equally answered. The conscience of approving ones self a benefactor to mankind is the noblest recompence for being so; doubtless it is, and the most interested cannot propose any thing so much to their own advantage; notwithstanding which, the inclination is nevertheless unselfish. The pleasure which attends the gratification of our hunger and thirst, is not the cause of these appetites; they are previous to any 'I am mightily pleased with your dissuch prospect; and so likewise is the de-course upon planting, which put me upon sire of doing good; with this difference, looking into my books, to give you some that, being seated in the intellectual part, account of the veneration the ancients had this last, though antecedent to reason, may for trees. There is an old tradition, that yet be improved and regulated by it; and, Abraham planted a cypress, a pine, and a I will add, is no otherwise a virtue than as cedar; and that these three incorporated it is so. Thus have I contended for the into one tree, which was cut down for the dignity of that nature I have the honour to building of the temple of Solomon. partake of; and, after all the evidence produced, I think I have a right to conclude, against the motto of this paper, that there is such a thing as generosity in the world. Though, if I were under a mistake in this, I should say as Cicero, in relation to the immortality of the soul, I willingly err, and should believe it very much for the interest of mankind to lie under the same delusion. For the contrary notion naturally tends to dispirit the mind, and sinks it into a meanness fatal to the god-like zeal of doing good: as, on the other hand, it teaches people to be ungrateful, by possessing them with a persuasion concerning their benefactors, that they have no regard to them in the benefits they bestow. Now he that banishes gratitude from among men, by so doing stops up the stream of beneficence: for though in conferring kindnesses, a truly generous man doth not aim at a return, yet he looks to the qualities of the person obliged; and as nothing renders a person more unworthy of a benefit than his being without all resentment of it, he will not be extremely forward to oblige such a man.

No. 589.] Friday, September 3, 1714.
Persequitur scelus ille suum; labefactaque tandem
Ictibus innumeris, adductaque funibus arbor
Corruit-
Ovid, Met. Lib. 8. 774.
The impious axe he plies, loud strokes resound:
Till dragg'd with ropes, and fell'd with many a wound,
The loosen'd tree comes rushing to the ground.

'SIR,-I am so great an admirer of rees, that the spot of ground I have|

'Isidorus, who lived in the reign of Constantius, assures us, that he saw, even in his time, that famous oak in the plains of Mamre, under which Abraham is reported to have dwelt; and adds, that the people looked upon it with a great veneration, and preserved it as a sacred tree.

'The heathens still went farther, and regarded it as the highest piece of sacrilege to injure certain trees which they took to be protected by some deity. The story of Erisicthon, the grove at Dodona, and that at Delphi, are all instances of this kind.

'If we consider the machine in Virgil, so much blamed by several critics, in this light, we shall hardly think it too violent.

Æneas, when he built his fleet in order to sail for Italy, was obliged to cut down the grove on mount Ida, which however he durst not do until he had obtained leave from Cybele, to whom it was dedicated. The goddess could not but think herself obliged to protect these ships, which were made of consecrated timber, after a very extraordinary manner, and therefore desired Jupiter that they might not be obnoxious to the power of waves or winds. Jupiter would not grant this, but promised her that as many as came safe to Italy should be transformed into goddesses of the sea; which the poet tells us was accord ingly executed.

"And now at length the numbered hours were come,
Prefix'd by Fate's irrevocable doom,
When the great mother of the gods was free
To save her ships, and finish Jove's decree,

First, from the quarter of the morn there sprung
A light that sing'd the heavens, and shot along :
Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden fires,
Were timbrels heard, and Berecynthian quires:
And last a voice with more than mortal sounds,
Both hosts in arms oppos'd with equal horror wounds.
· O Trojan race, your needless aid forbear;
And know my ships are my peculiar care.
With greater ease the bold Rutulian may,
With hissing brands, attempt to burn the sea,
Than singe my sacred pines. But you, my charge,
Loos'd from your crooked anchors, launch at large,
Exalted each a nymph: forsake the sand,
And swim the seas, at Cybele's command.'
No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak,
When, lo, th' obedient ships their hawsers break,
And, strange to tell, like dolphins, in the main,
They plunge their prows, and dive and spring again:
As many beauteous maids the billows sweep,
As rode before tall vessels on the deep."

Dryden's Virg.

The common opinion concerning the nymphs, whom the ancients called Hamadryads, is more to the honour of trees than dryads, is more to the honour of trees than any thing yet mentioned. It was thought the fate of these nymphs had so near a dependance on some trees, more especially oaks, that they lived and died together. For this reason they were extremely grateful to such persons who preserved those trees with which their being subsisted. Apollonius tells us a very remarkable story to this purpose, with which I shall conclude my letter.

'A certain man, called Rhæcus, observing an old oak ready to fall, and being moved with a sort of compassion towards the tree, ordered his servants to pour in fresh earth at the roots of it, and set it upright. The Hamadryad, or nymph, who must necessarily have perished with the tree, appeared to him the next day, and, after having returned him her thanks, told him she was ready to grant whatever he should ask. As she was extremely beautiful, Rhæcus desired he might be entertained as her lover. The Hamadryad, not much displeased with the request, promised to give him a meeting, but commanded him for some days to abstain from the embraces of all other women, adding that she would send a bee to him, to let him know when he was to be happy; Rhacus was, it seems, too much addicted to gaming, and happened to be in a run of ill-luck when the faithful bee came buzzing about him; so that, instead of minding his kind invitation, he had like to have killed him for his pains. The Hamadryad was so provoked at her own disappointment, and the ill usage of her messenger, that she deprived Rhacus of the use of his limbs. However, says the story, he was not so much a cripple, but he made a shift to cut down the tree, and consequently to fell his mistress."

No. 590.] Monday, September 6, 1714.

Assiduo labuntur tempora motu
Non secus ac flumen. Neque enim consistere flumen,
Nec levis hora potest: sed ut unda impellitur unda,
Urgeturque prior venienti, urgetque priorem,
Tempora sic fugiunt pariter, pariturque sequuntur;

‚E'en times are in perpetual flux, and run,
Like rivers from their fountains, rolling on.
For time, no more than streams, is at a stay,
The flying hour is ever on her way;
And as the fountains still supply their store
The wave behind impels the wave before;
Thus in successive course the minutes run,
And urge their predecessor minutes on.
Still moving, ever new: for former things
Are laid aside, like abdicated kings :
And every moment alters what is done,
And innovates some act, till then unknown.
Dryden.

The following discourse comes from the
same hand with the essays upon infinitude.

"We consider infinite space as an expansion without a circumference; we consider eternity, or infinite duration, as a line that has neither a beginning nor an end. In our speculations of infinite space, we consider that particular place in which we exist as a kind of centre to the whole expansion. In our speculatious of eternity, we consider the time which is present to us as the middle, which divides the whole line into two equal parts. For this reason, many witty authors compare the present time to an isthmus, or narrow neck of land, that rises in the midst of an ocean, immeasur

ably diffused on either side of it.

Philosophy, and indeed common sense, naturally throws eternity under two divisions, which we may call in English that eternity which is past, and that eternity which is to come. The learned terms of Eternitas a parte ante, and Eternitas a parte post, may be more amusing to the reader, but can have no other idea affixed to them than what is conveyed to us by those words, an eternity that is past, and Each of these an eternity that is to come. eternities is bounded at the one extreme, or, in other words, the former has an end, and the latter a beginning.

'Let us first of all consider that eternity which is past, reserving that which is to come for the subject of another paper. The nature of this eternity is utterly inconceivable by the mind of man: our reason demonstrates to us that it has been, but at the same time can frame no idea of it, but what is big with absurdity and contradiction. We can have no other conception of any duration which is past, than that all of it was once present: and whatever was once present is at some certain distance from us, and whatever is at any certain distance from us, be the distance never so remote, cannot be eternity. The very notion of any duration being past implies that it was once present, for the idea of being once present is actually included in the idea of its being past. This therefore is a depth not to be sounded by human understanding. We are sure that there has been an eternity, and yet contradict ourselves when we measure this eternity by any notion which we can frame of it.

'It we go to the bottom of this matter, we shall find that the difficulties we meet with in our conceptions of eternity proceed from this single reason, that we can have nother idea of any kind of duration, than that by which we ourselves, and all other created beings, do exist; which is, a successive duration made up of past, present, and to come. There is nothing which exists after this manner, all the parts of whose existence were not once actually present, and consequently may be reached by a certain number of years applied to it. We may ascend as high as we please, and employ our being to that eternity which is to come, in adding millions of years to millions of years, and we can never come up to any fountain-head of duration, to any beginning in eternity: but at the same time we are sure, that whatever was once present does lie within the reach of numbers, though perhaps we can never be able to put enough of them together for that purpose. We may as well say, that any thing may be actually present in any part of infinite space, which does not lie at a certain distance from us, as that any part of infinite duration was once actually present, and does not also lie at some determined distance from us. The distance in both cases may be immeasurable and indefinite as to our faculties, but our reason tells us that it cannot be so in itself. Here therefore is that difficulty which human understanding is not capable of surmountng. We are sure that something must have existed from eternity, and are at the same time unable to conceive, that any thing which exists, according to our notion of existence, can have existed from eternity.

the manner of created beings, or according Thirdly, That whatever exists after to any notions which we have of existence, could not have existed from eternity.

therefore be the great Author of nature, Fourthly, That this Eternal Being must "the Ancient of Days," who, being at an infinite distance in his perfections from all finite and created beings, exists in a quite different manner from them, and in a manner of which they can have no idea.

'I know that several of the schoolmen, who would not be thought ignorant of any thing, have pretended to explain the manner of God's existence, by telling us that he comprehends infinite duration in every moment: that eternity is with him a punctum stans, a fixed point; or, which is as good sense, an infinite instant; that nothing, with reference to his existence, is either past or to come: to which the ingenious Mr. Cowley alludes in his description of heaven:

For my own part, I look upon these propositions as words that have no ideas annexed to them; and think men had better own their ignorance than advance doctrines by which they mean nothing, and which, indeed, are self-contradictory. We cannot be too modest in our disquisitions when we meditate on Him, who is environed with so much glory and perfection, who is the source of being, the fountain of all that existence which we and his whole creation derive from him. Let us therefore, with the utmost humility, acknowledge, that, as some being must necessarily have existed from eternity, so this being does exist It is hard for a reader, who has not after an incomprehensible manner, since it rolled this thought in his own mind, to fol- is impossible for a being to have existed low in such an abstracted speculation; but from eternity after our manner or notions I have been the longer on it, because I of existence. Revelation confirms these think it is a demonstrative argument of the natural dictates of reason in the accounts being and eternity of God: and, though which it gives us of the divine existence, there are many other demonstrations which where it tells us, that he is the same yeslead us to this great truth, I do not think terday, to-day, and for ever; that he is the we ought to lay aside any proofs in this Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the matter, which the light of reason has sug-ending; that a thousand years are with him gested to us, especially when it is such a as one day, and one day as a thousand one as has been urged by men famous for years: by which, and the like expressions, their penetration and force of understand- we are taught that his existence, with reing, and which appears altogether conclu-lation to time or duration, is infinitely difsive to those who will be at the pains to examine it.

Having thus considered that eternity which is past, according to the best idea we can frame of it, I shall now draw up those several articles on this subject, which are dictated to us by the light of reason, and which may be looked upon as the creed of a philosopher in this great point.

'First, it is certain that no being could have made itself; for, if so, it must have acted before it was, which is a contradiction. Secondly, That therefore some being must have existed from all eternity.

ferent from the existence of any of his creatures, and consequently that it is impossible for us to frame any adequate conceptions of it.

In the first revelation which he makes of his own being, he entitles himself, "I Am that I Am;" and when Moses desires to know what name he shall give him in his embassy to Pharaoh, he bids him say that "I Am hath sent you. "" Our great Creator, by this revelation of himself, does in a manner exclude every thing else from a real existence, and distinguishes himself from his creatures as the only being which

He assures me, with an air of confidence, which I hope proceeds from his real abilities, that he does not doubt of giving judgment to the satisfaction of the parties con cerned on the most nice and intricate cases which can happen in an amour; as,

truly and really exists. The ancient Pla- | appearances, from the fifteenth to the tonic notion, which was drawn from specu- | forty-fifth year of his age. lations of eternity wonderfully agrees with this revelation which God has made of himself. There is nothing, say they, which in reality exists, whose existence, as we call it, is pieced up of past, present, and to come. Such a flitting and successive existence is rather a shadow of existence, and something which is like it, than existence itself. He only properly exists whose existence is entirely present; that is, in other words, who exists in the most perfect manner, and in such a manner as we have no idea of.

How great the contraction of the fingers must be before it amounts to a squeeze by the hand.

What can be properly termed an absolute denial from a maid, and what from a widow.

What advances a lover may presume to make, after having received a pat upon his shoulder from his mistress's fan.

Whether a lady, at the first interview, may allow an humble servant to kiss her hand.

How far it may be permitted to caress the maid in order to succeed with the mis

What constructions a man may put upon a smile, and in what cases a frown goes for nothing.

On what occasions a sheepish look may do service, &c.

'I shall conclude this speculation with one useful inference. How can we sufficiently prostrate ourselves and fall down before our Maker, when we consider that ineffable goodness and wisdom which contrived this existence for finite natures? What must be the overflowings of that good-will, which prompted our Creator to adapt ex-tress. istence to beings in whom it is not necessary? especially when we consider that he himself was before in the complete possession of existence and of happiness, and in the full enjoyment of eternity. What man can think of himself as called out and se- As a farther proof of his skill, he also parated from nothing, of his being made a sent me several maxims in love, which he conscious, a reasonable, and a happy crea-assures me are the result of a long and ture; in short, in being taken in as a sharer of existence, and a kind of partner in eternity, without being swallowed up in wonder, in praise, in adoration! It is indeed a thought too big for the mind of man, and rather to be entertained in the secresy of devotion, and in the silence of his soul, than to be expressed by words. The Supreme Being has not given us powers or faculties sufficient to extol and magnify such unutterable goodness.

It is however some comfort to us, that we shall be always doing what we shall be never able to do, and that a work which cannot be finished, will however be the work of an eternity.'

profound reflection, some of which I think myself obliged to communicate to the public, not remembering to have seen them before in any author.

'There are more calamities in the world arising from love than from hatred. 'Love is the daughter of idleness, but the mother of disquietude.

'Men of grave natures, says Sir Francis Bacon, are the most constant; for the same reason men should be more constant than women.

"The gay part of mankind is most amorous, the serious most loving.

A coquette often loses her reputation while she preserves her virtue.

'A prude often preserves her reputation when she has lost her virtue.

'Love refines a man's behaviour, but

No. 591.] Wednesday, September 8, 1714. makes a woman's ridiculous.

-Tenerorum lusor amorum.

Ovid, Trist. 3. El. iii. Lib. 3. 73.

Love, the soft subject of his sportive muse.

I HAVE just received a letter from a gentleman, who tells me he has observed with no small concern, that my papers have of late been very barren in relation to love; a subject which, when agreeably handled, can scarcely fail of being well received by both sexes.

If my invention therefore should be almost exhausted on this head, he offers to serve under me in the quality of a lovecasuist; for which place he conceives himself to be thoroughly qualified, having made this passion his principal study, and observed it in all its different shapes and

'Love is generally accompanied with good-will in the young,, interest in the middle-aged, and a passion too gross to name in the old.

'The endeavours to revive a decaying passion generally extinguish the remains of it.

'A woman who from being a slattern becomes over-neat, or from being over-neat becomes a slattern, is most certainly in love.'

I shall make use of this gentleman's skill as I see occasion; and since I am got upon the subject of love, shall conclude this paper with a copy of verses which were lately sent me by an unknown hand, as I look upon them to be above the ordinary run of sonnetteers.