been making a charitable visit to a widow | singing incessantly about his throne. Who who lived on the promontory of Lilybeum, does not here see the main strokes and outreturned home pretty late in the evening, lines of this great truth we are speaking of? the dogs flew at him with so much fury, The same doctrine is shadowed out in many that they would have worried him if his other heathen authors, though at the same brethren had not come in to his assistance: time, like several other revealed truths, upon which, says my author, the dogs dashed and adulterated with a mixture of were all of them hanged, as having lost fables and human inventions. But to pass their original instinct.' over the notions of the Greeks and Romans, those more enlightened parts of the pagan world, we find there is scarce a people among the late discovered nations who are not trained up in an opinion that heaven is the habitation of the divinity whom they worship.

I cannot conclude this paper without wishing that we had some of this breed of dogs in Great Britain, which would certainly do justice, I should say honour, to the ladies of our country, and show the world the difference between pagan women and those who are instructed in sounder principles of virtue and religion.

No. 580.] Friday, August 13, 1714.

-Si verbo audacia detur,
Non metuam magni dixisse palatia cœli.
Ovid, Met. Lib. i. 175.
This place, the brightest mansion of the sky
I'll call the palace of the Deity.—Dryden.

'As in Solomon's temple there was the Sanctum Sanctorum, in which a visible glory appeared among the figures of the cherubims, and into which none but the high priest himself was permitted to enter, after having made an atonement for the sins of the people; so, if we consider the whole creation as one great temple, there is in it this Holy of holies, into which the High priest of our salvation entered, and took his place among angels and arch-angels, after having made a propitiation for the sins of mankind.

'SIR,-I considered in my two last letters that awful and tremendous subject, the ubiquity or omnipresence of the Divine "With how much skill must the throne Being. I have shown that he is equally of God be erected! With what glorious present in all places throughout the whole designs is that habitation beautified, which extent of infinite space. This doctrine is is contrived and built by him who inspired so agreeable to reason, that we meet with Hiram with wisdom! How great must be it in the writings of the enlightened hea- the majesty of that place, where the whole thens, as I might show at large, were it art of creation has been employed, and not already done by other hands. But where God has chosen to show himself in though the Deity be thus essentially pre- the most magnificent manner? What must 3 sent through all the immensity of space, be the architecture of infinite power under there is one part of it in which he discovers the direction of infinite wisdom? A spirit himself in a most transcendent and visible cannot but be transported, after an ineffaglory; this is that place which is marked ble manner, with the sight of those obout in scripture under the different appel- jects, which were made to effect him by lations of "Paradise, the third heaven, that Being who knows the inward frame the throne of God, and the habitation of of a soul, and how to please and ravish it in his glory." It is here where the glorified all its most secret powers and faculties. It body of our Saviour resides, and where all is to this majestic presence of God we may the celestial hierarchies, and the innume-apply those beautiful expressions in holy rable hosts of angels, are represented as i perpetually surrounding the seat of God with hallelujahs and hymns of praise. This is that presence of God which some of the divines call his glorious, and others his majestic, presence. He is indeed as essentially present in all other places as in this; but it is here where he resides in a sensible magnificence, and in the midst of all those splendours which can effect the imagination of created beings.

It is very remarkable that this opinion of God Almighty's presence in heaven, whether discovered by the light of nature, or by a general tradition from our first parents, prevails among all the nations of the world, whatsoever different notions they entertain of the Godhead. If you look into Homer, the most ancient of the Greek writers, you see the supreme power seated in the heavens, and encompassed with inferior deities, among whom the Muses are represented as VOL. II. 47

writ: Behold even to the moon and it shineth not; yea the stars are not pure in his sight.' The light of the sun, and all the glories of the world in which we live, are but as weak and sickly glimmerings, or rather darkness itself, in comparison of those splendours which encompass the throne of God.

'As the glory of this place is transcendent beyond imagination, so probably is the extent of it. There is light behind light, and glory within glory. How far that space may reach, in which God appears in perfect majesty, we cannot possibly conceive. Though it is not infinite, it may be indefinite; and, though not immeasurable in itself, it may be so with regard to any created eye or imagination. If he has made these lower regions of matter so inconceivably wide and magnificent for the habitation of mortal and perishable beings, how great may we suppose the courts of his house to be

where he makes his residence in a more especial manner, and displays himself in the fulness of his glory, among an innumerable company of angels and spirits of just men made perfect?

'This is certain, that our imaginations cannot be raised too high, when we think on a place where omnipotence and omniscience have so signally exerted themselves, because that they are able to produce a scene infinitely more great and glorious than what we are able to imagine. It is not impossible but at the consummation of all things, these outward apartments of nature, which are now suited to those beings who inhabit them, may be taken in and added to that glorious place of which I am here speaking, and by that means made a proper habitation for beings who are exempt from mortality, and cleared of their imperfections: for so the scripture seems to intimate when it speaks of "new heavens and of a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness."

words, as might convey a notion of it to his hearers.

'It is very natural for us to take delight in inquiries concerning any foreign country, where we are some time or other to make our abode; and as we all hope to be admitted into this glorious place, it is both a laudable and useful curiosity to get what informations we can of it, whilst we make use of revelation for our guide. When these everlasting doors shall be open to us, we may be sure that the pleasures and beauties of this place will infinitely transcend our present hopes and expectations, and that the glorious appearance of the throne of God will rise infinitely beyond whatever we are able to conceive of it. We might here entertain ourselves with many other speculations on this subject, from those several hints which we find of it in the holy scriptures; as, whether there may not be different mansions and apartments of glory to beings of different natures; whether, as they excel one another in perfection, they are not admitted nearer to the throne of the Almighty, and enjoy greater manifestations of his presence; whether there are not solemn times and occasions, when all the multitude of heaven celebrate the presence of their Maker in more extraordinary forms of praise and adoration; as Adam, though he had continued in a state of innocence, would, in the opinion of our divines, have kept holy the Sabbath-day in a more particular manner than any other of the seven. These, and the like speculations we may very innocently indulge, so long as we make use of them to inspire us with a desire of becoming inhabitants of this delightful place.

'I have only considered this glorious place with regard to the sight and imagination, though it is highly probable that our other senses may here likewise enjoy their highest gratifications. There is nothing which more ravishes and transports the soul than harmony; and we have great reason to believe, from the descriptions of this place in holy scripture, that this is one of the entertainments of it. And if the soul of man can be so wonderfully affected with those strains of music which human art is capable of producing, how much more will it be raised and elevated by those in which is exerted the whole power of harmony! The senses are faculties of the human soul, though they cannot be employed, during 'I have in this, and in two foregoing letthis our vital union, without proper instru-ters, treated on the most serious subject ments in the body. Why therefore should that can employ the mind of man—the omwe exclude the satisfaction of these facul-nipresence of the Deity; a subject which, ties, which we find by experience are inlets of great pleasure to the soul, from among those entertainments which are to make up our happiness hereafter! Why should we suppose that our hearing and seeing will not be gratified with those objects which are most agreeable to them, and which they cannot meet with in these lower regions of nature; objects, "which neither eye hath seen, nor ear heard, nor can it enter into the heart of man to conceive? I knew a man in Christ (says Saint Paul, speaking of himself) above fourteen years ago, (whether in the body I cannot tell, or whether out of the body I cannot tell: God knoweth) such a one caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man (whether in the body or out of the body, I cannot tell: God knoweth) how that he was caught up into Paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not possible for a man to utter." By this is meant that what he heard was so infinitely different from any thing which he had heard in this world, that it was impossible to express it in such

if possible, should never depart from our meditations. We have considered the Divine Being as he inhabits infinitude, as he dwells among his works, as he is present to the mind of man, and as he discovers himself in a more glorious manner among the regions of the blest. Such a consideration should be kept awake in us at all times, and in all places, and possess our minds with a perpetual awe and reverence. It should be interwoven with all our thoughts and perceptions, and become one with the consciousness of our own being. It is not to be reflected on in the coldness of philosophy, but ought to sink us into the lowest prostration before him, who is so astonishingly great, wonderful, and holy.'

No. 581.] Monday, August 16, 1714.

Sunt bona, sunt quædam mediocria, sunt mala plura Quæ legisMart. Epig. xvii. Lib. 1. Some good, more bad, some neither one nor t'other. 'I AM at present sitting with a heap of letters before me, which I have received

When the lady who wrote me a letter, No. 582.] Wednesday, August 18, 1714. dated July the 20th, in relation to some passages in a lover, will be more particular in her directions, I shall be so in my answer.

The poor gentleman who fancies my writings could reclaim a husband who can abuse such a wife as he describes, has, I am afraid, too great an opinion of my skill. I mentioned neither by Galen nor Hippo

crates, nor to be met with in the London [dication of Astrology. This profound auDispensary. Juvenal in the motto of my thor, among many mystical passages, has paper, terms it a cacoethes; which is a the following one: The absence of the sun hard word for a disease called in plain Eng- is not the cause of night, forasmuch as his lish, The itch of writing.' This cacoe- light is so great that it may illuminate the thes is as epidemical as the smallpox, there earth all over at once as clear as broad being very few who are not seized with it day; but there are tenebrificous and dark some time or other in their lives. There stars, by whose influence night is brought is, however, this difference in these two on, and which do ray out darkness and distempers, that the first, after having in- obscurity upon the earth as the sun does disposed you for a time, never returns again; light.' whereas, this I am speaking of, when it is once got into the blood, seldom comes out of it. The British nation is very much afflicted with this malady, and though very many remedies have been applied to persons infected with it, few of them have ever proved successful. Some have been cauterized with satires and lampoons, but have received little or no benefit from them; others have had their heads fastened for an hour together between a cleft board, which is made use of as a cure for the disease when it appears in its greatest malignity." There is indeed, one kind of this malady which has been sometimes removed, like the biting of a tarantula, with the sound of a musical instrument, which is commonly known by the name of a cat-call. † But if you have a patient of this kind under your care, No. 583.] Friday, August 20, 1714. you may assure yourself there is no other way of recovering him effectually, but by forbidding him the use of pen, ink, and paper.

*

I consider writers in the same view this sage astrologer does the heavenly bodies. Some of them are stars that scatter light as others do darkness. I could mention several authors who are tenebrificous stars of the first magnitude, and point out a knot of gentlemen, who have been dull in concert, and may be looked upon as a dark constellation. The nation has been a great while benighted with several of these antiluminaries. I suffered them to ray out their darkness as long as I was able to endure it, till at length I came to a resolution of rising upon them, and hope in a little time to drive them quite out of the British hemisphere.

Ipse thymum pinosque ferens de montibus altis,
Tecta serat late circum, cui talia curæ:
Ipse labore manum duro terat; ipse feraces
Figat humo plantas et amicos irriget imbres.

Virg. Georg. iv. 112.

With his own hand, the guardian of the bees
For slips of pines may search the mountain trees,
And with wild thyme and sav'ry plant the plain,
Till his hard horny fingers ache with pain;
And deck with fruitful trees the fields around,
And with refreshing waters drench the ground.

Dryden.

But, to drop the allegory before I have tired it out, there is no species of scribblers more offensive, and more incurable, than your periodical writers, whose works return upon the public on certain days, and at stated times. We have not the consolation in the perusal of these authors which we find at the reading of all others, namely, EVERY station of life has duties which are that we are sure if we have but patience, proper to it. Those who are determined by we may come to the end of their labours. choice to any particular kind of business, I have often admired a humorous saying are indeed more happy than those who are of Diogenes, who, reading a dull author to determined by necessity; but both are unseveral of his friends, when every one be- der an equal obligation of fixing on employgan to be tired, finding he was almost come ments, which may be either useful to themto a blank leaf at the end of it, cried, 'Cou-selves or beneficial to others: no one of the rage, lads, I see land.' On the contrary, our progress through that kind of writers I am now speaking of is never at an end. One day makes work for another-we do not know when to promise ourselves rest.

sons of Adam ought to think himself exempt from that labour and industry which were denounced to our first parent, and in him to all his posterity. Those to whom birth or fortune may seem to make such an application unnecessary, ought to find out some calling or profession for themselves, that they may not lie as a burden on the species, and be the only useless parts of the creation.

Many of our country gentlemen in their busy hours apply themselves wholly to the chase, or to some other diversion which they find in the fields and woods. This gave occasion to one of our most eminent English writers to represent every one of them as lying under a kind of curse, pronounced to them in the words of Goliah, 'I will give thee to the fowls of the air and to the beasts of the field.'

Though exercises of this kind, when in- | to come into something that might redound dulged with moderation, may have a good to the good of their successors, grew very influence both on the mind and body, the peevish: We are always doing,' says he, country affords many other amusements of a something for posterity, but I would fain more noble kind. see posterity do something for us.'

Among these, I know none more delightful in itself, and beneficial to the public, than that of planting. I could mention a nobleman whose fortune has placed him in several parts of England, and who has always left these visible marks behind him, which show he has been there: he never I hired a house in his life, without leaving all about it the seeds of wealth, and bestowing legacies on the posterity of the owner. Had all the gentlemen of England made the same improvements upon their estates, our whole country would have been at this time as one great garden. Nor ought such an employment to be looked upon as too inglorious for men of the highest rank. There have been heroes in this art, as well as in others. We are told in particular of Cyrus the Great, that he planted all the Lesser Asia. There is indeed something truly magnificent in this kind of amusement: it gives a nobler air to several parts of nature; it fills the earth with a variety of beautiful scenes, and has something in it like creation. For this reason the pleasure of one who plants is something like that of a poet, who, as Aristotle observes, is more delighted with his productions than any other writer or artist whatsoever.

Plantations have one advantage in them which is not to be found in most other works, as they give a pleasure of a more lasting date, and continually improve in the eye of the planter. When you have finished a building, or any other undertaking of the like nature, it immediately decays upon your hands: you see it brought to the utmost point of perfection, and from that time hastening to its ruin. On the contrary, when you have finished your plantations, they are still arriving at greater degrees of perfection as long as you live, and appear more delightful in every succeeding year than they did in the foregoing.

But I do not only recommend this art to men of estates as a pleasing amusement, but as it is a kind of virtuous employment, and may therefore be inculcated by moral motives; particularly from the love which we ought to have for our country, and the regard which we ought to bear to our posterity. As for the first I need only mention what is frequently observed by others, that the increase of forest trees does by no means bear a proportion to the destruction of them, insomuch, that in a few ages the nation may be at a loss to supply itself with timber sufficient for the fleets of England. I know when a man talks of posterity in matters of this nature, he is looked upon with an eye of ridicule by the cunning and selfish part of mankind. Most people are of the humour of an old fellow of a college, who, when he was pressed by the society

But I think men are inexcusable, who fail in a duty of this nature, since it is so easily discharged. When a man considers that the putting a few twigs into the ground is doing good to one who will make his appearance in the world about fifty years hence, or that he is perhaps making one of his own descendants easy or rich, by so inconsiderable an expense, if he finds himself averse to it, he must conclude that he has a poor and base heart, void of all generous principles and love to mankind.

There is one consideration which may very much enforce what I have here said. Many honest minds, that are naturally disposed to do good in the world, and become beneficial to mankind, complain within themselves that they have not talents for it. This therefore is a good office, which is suited to the meanest capacities, and which may be performed by multitudes who have not abilities sufficient to deserve well of their country, and to recommend themselves to their posterity, by any other method. It is the phrase of a friend of mine, when any useful country neighbour dies, that you may trace him;' which I look upon as a good funeral oration, at the death of an honest husbandman who had left the impressions of his industry behind him in the place where he has lived.

Upon the foregoing considerations, I can scarcely forbear representing the subject of this paper as a kind of moral virtue; which, as I have already shown, recommends itself likewise by the pleasure that attends it. It must be confessed that this is none of those turbulent pleasures which are apt to gratify a man in the heats of youth; but, if it be not so tumultuous, it is more lasting. Nothing can be more delightful than to entertain ourselves with prospects of our own making, and to walk under those shades which our own industry has raised. Amusements of this nature compose the mind, and lay at rest all those passions which are uneasy to the soul of man, besides that they naturally engender good thoughts, and dispose us to laudable contemplations. Many of the old philosophers passed away the greatest parts of their lives among their gardens. Epicurus himself could not think sensual pleasure attainable in any other scene. Every reader, who is acquainted with Homer, Virgil, and Horace, the greatest geniuses of all antiquity, knows very well with how much rapture they have spoken on this subject; and that Virgil in particular has written a whole book on the art of planting.

This art seems to have been more especially adapted to the nature of man in his primæval state, when he had life enough to see his productions flourish in their utmost