No. 578.] MONDAY, AUGUST 9, 1714. Eque feris humana in corpora transit, Inque feras noster OVID, Met. xv. 167, -Th' unbodied spirit flies And lodges where it lights in man or beast.-DRYDEN. THEKE has been very great reason, on several accounts, for the learned world to endeavour at setHing what it was that might be said to compose personal identity. Mr. Locke, after having premised that the word person properly signifies a thinking intelligent being that has reason and reflection, and can consider itself as itself, concludes, that it is consciousness alone, and not an identity of substance, which makes this personal identity of sameness. "Had I the same consciousness," says that author, "that I saw the ark and Noah's flood, as that I saw an overflowing of the Thames last winter; or as that I now write; I could no more doubt that I who write this now, that saw the Thames overflow last winter, and that viewed the flood at the general deluge, was the same self, place that self in what substance you please, than that I who write this am the same myself now while I write, whether I consist of all the same substance, material or immaterial, or no, that I was yesterday; for as to this point of being the same self, it matters not whether this present self be made up of the same or other substances." I was mightily pleased with a story in some measure applicable to this piece of philosophy, which I read the other day in the Persian Tales, as they are lately very well translated by Mr. Phillips; and with an abridgment whereof I shall here present my readers. I shall only premise that these stories are writ after the eastern manner, but somewhat more correct. "Fadlallah, a prince of great virtue, succeeded his father Bin Ortoc in the kingdom of Mousel. He reigned over his faithful subjects for some time, and lived in great happiness with his beauteous consort Queen Zemroude, when there appeared at his court a young dervise of so lively and entertaining a turn of wit, as won upon the affections of every one he conversed with. His reputation grew so fast every day, that it at last raised a curiosity in the prince himself to see and talk with him. He did so; and, far from finding that common fame had flattered him, he was soon convinced that every thing he had heard of him fell short of the truth. his secrets, on condition I should never reveal it to any man.' The king immediately, reflecting on his young favourite's having refused the late offers of greatness he had made him, told him he presumed it was the power of making gold. No, Sir, says the dervise, it is somewhat more wonderful than that; it is the power of reanimating a dead body, by flinging my own soul into it.' "While he was yet speaking, a doe came bound. ing by them, and the king, who had his bow ready, shot her through the heart; telling the dervise, that a fair opportunity now offered for him to show his art. The young man immediately left his own body breathless on the ground, while at the same instant that of the doe was reanimated. She came to the king, fawned upon him, and, after having played several wanton tricks fell again upon the grass; at the same instant the body of the dervise recovered its life. The king was infinitely pleased at so unicommon an operation, and conjured his friend by every thing that was sacred to communicate it to him. The dervise at first made some scruple of violating his promise to the dying brachman: but told him at last that he found he could conceal nothing from so excellent a prince; after having obliged him therefore by an oath to secrecy, he taught him, to repeat two cabalistic words, in pronouncing of which the whole secret consisted. The king, impa tient to try the experiment, immediately repeated them as he had been taught, and in an instant found himself in the body of the doe. He had but little time to contemplate himself in this new being; for the treacherous dervise, shooting his own soul into the royal corpse, and bending the prince's own bow against him, had laid him dead on the spot, had not the king, who perceived his intent, fled swiftly to the woods. "The dervise, now triumphant in his villany, returned to Mousel, and filled the throne and bed of the unhappy Fadlallah. "The first thing he took care of, in order to secure himself in the possession of his new-acquired kingdom, was to issue out a proclamation, ordering his subjects to destroy all the deer in the realm. The king had perished among the rest, had he not avoided his pursuers by reanimating the body of a nightingale, which he saw lie dead at the foot of a tree. In this new shape he winged his way in safety to the palace; where, perching on a tree which stood "Fadlallah immediately lost all manner of relish near his queen's apartment, he filled the whole place for the conversation of other men; and, as he was with so many melodious and melancholy notes as every day more and more satisfied of the abilities of drew her to the window. He had the mortification this stranger, offered him the first posts in his king- to see that, instead of being pitied, he only moved dom. The young dervise, after having thanked him the mirth of his princess, and of a young female with a very singular modesty, desired to be ex-slave who was with her. He continued however to cused, as having made a vow never to accept of any employment, and preferring a free and independent state of life to all other conditions. serenade her every morning, until at last the queen, charmed with his harmony, sent for the bird catchers, and ordered them to employ their utmost skill "The king was infinitely charmed with so great to put that little creature into her possession. The an example of moderation; and though he could king, pleased with an opportunity of being once not get him to engage in a life of business, made more near his beloved consort, easily suffered him, him however his chief companion and first favourite. self to be taken: and when he was presented to her, "As they were one day hunting together and though he showed a fearfulness to be touched by happened to be separated from the rest of the com- any of the other ladies, flew of his own accord, and pany, the dervise entertained Fadlallah with an ac-hid himself in the queen's bosom. Zemroude was count of his travels and adventures. After having highly pleased at the unexpected fondness of her related to him several curiosities which he had seen new favourite, and ordered him to be kept in au in the Indies, It was in this place,' says he, that I contracted an acquaintance with an old brachman, who was skilled in the most hidden powers of nature; he died within my arms, and with his parting breath communicated to me one of the most valuable of open cage in her own apartment. He had there an opportunity of making his court to her every morn ing, by a thousand little actions, which his shape allowed him. The queen passed away whole hours every day in hearing and playing with him. Fad lallah could even have thought himself happy in this state of life, had he not frequently endured the inexpressible torment of seeing the dervise enter the apartment and caress his queen even in his presence. "The usurper, amidst his toying with the princess, would often endeavour to ingratiate himself with her nightingale: and while the enraged Fadlallah pecked at him with his bill, beat his wings, and showed all the marks of an impotent rage, it only afforded his rival and the queen new matter for their diversion. "Zemroude was likewise fond of a little lap-dog which she kept in her apartment, and which one night happened to die. "The king immediately found himself inclined to quit the shape of a nightingale, and enliven this new body. He did so, and the next morning Zemroude saw her favourite bird lie dead in the cage. It is impossible to express her grief on this occasion; and when she called to mind all its little actions, which even appeared to have somewhat in them like reason, she was inconsolable for her loss. "Her women immediately sent for the dervise to come and comfort her; who, after having in vain represented to her the weakness of being grieved at such an accident, touched at last by her repeated complaints, Well, Madam,' says he, I will exert the utmost of my art to please you. Your nightingale shall again revive every morning, and serenade you as before. The queen beheld him with a look which easily showed she did not believe him, when, laying himself down on a sofa, he shot his soul into the nightingale, and Zemroude was amazed to see her bird revive. "The king, who was a spectator of all that passed, lying under the shape of a lap-dog in one corner of the room, immediately recovered his own body, and, running to the cage, with the utmost indignation, twisted off the neck of the false nightingale. "Zemroude was more than ever amazed and concerned at this second accident, until the king, entreating her to hear him, related to her his whole adventure. "The body of the dervise which was found dead in the wood, and his edict for killing all the deer, left her no room to doubt the truth of it; but the story adds, that out of an extreme delicacy, peculiar to the oriental ladies, she was so highly afflicted at the innocent adultery in which she had for some time Lived with the dervise, that no arguments, even from Fadlallah himself, could compose her mind. She shortly after died with grief, begging his pardon with her latest breath for what the most rigid justice could not have interpreted as a crime. "The king was so afflicted with her death, that he left his kingdom to one of his nearest relations, and passed the rest of his days in solitude and retirement." bishop Laud, to punish this negligence, laid a eonsiderable fine upon that company in the star-chamber. By the practice of the world, which prevails in this degenerate age, I am afraid that very many young profligates of both sexes are possessed of this spurious edition of the Bible, and observe the coinmandment according to that faulty reading. Adulterers in the first ages of the church were excommunicated for ever, and unqualified all their lives from bearing a part in Christian assemblies, notwithstanding they might seek it with tears, and all the appearances of the most unfeigned repentance. I might here mention some ancient laws among the heathens, which punished this crime with death; and others of the same kind, which are now in force among several governments that have embraced the reformed religion. But, because a subject of this nature may be too serious for my ordinary readers, who are very apt to throw by my papers when they are not enlivened with something that is diverting or uncommon, I shall here publish the contents of a little manuscript lately fallen into my hands, and which pretends to great antiquity; though by reason of some modern phrases, and other particulars in it, I can by no means allow it to be genuine, but rather the production of a modern sophist. It is well known by the learned, that there was a temple upon mount Etna dedicated to Vulcan, which was guarded by dogs of so exquisite a smell, say the historians, that they could discern whether the per sons who came thither were chaste or otherwise. They used to meet and fawn upon such as were chaste, caressing them as the friends of their master Vul can; but flew at those who were polluted, and never ceased barking at them till they had driven them from the temple. My manuscript gives the following account of these dogs, and was probably designed as a comment upon this story : "These dogs were given to Vulcan by his sister Diana, the goddess of hunting and of chastity, bay ing bred them out of some of her hounds, in which she had observed this natural instinct and sagacity. It was thought she did it in spite to Venus, who, upon her return home, always found her husband in a good or bad humour, according to the reception which she met with from his dogs. They lived in the temple several years, but were such snappish curs, that they frightened away most of the votaries. The women of Sicily made a solemn deputation to the priest, by which they acquainted him, that they would not come up to the temple with their annual offerings unless he muzzled his mastiffs; and at last compromised the matter with him, that the offering should always be brought by a chorus of young girls, who were none of them above seven years old. It was wonderful, says the author, to see how different the treatment was which the dogs gave to these little misses, from that which they had shown to their mothers. It is said that the prince of Syracuse, having married a young lady, and being naturally No. 579.] WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11, 1712. of a jealous temper, made such an interest with the -Odora canum vís.-VIRG. Æn. iv. 132 Sagacious hounds In the reign of King Charles the First, the Company of Stationers, into whose hands the printing of the Bible is committed by patent, made a very remarkable erratum or blunder in one of their editions for instead of "Thou shalt not commit adultery," they printed off several thousands of copies with, "Thou shalt commit adultery." Arch priests of this temple, that he procured a whelp from then of this famous breed. The young puppy was very troublesome to the fair lady at first, insomuch that she solicited her husband to send him away; but the good man cut her short with the old Sicilian proverb, Love me, love my dog;' from which titte she lived very peaceably with both of them. The ladies of Syracuse were very much annoyed with him, and several of very good reputation refused to come to court until he was discarded. There were indeed some of them that defied his sagacity; but it was observed, though he did not actually bite them, he would growl at them most confoundedly. To return to the dogs of the temple; after they had lived here in great repute for several years, it so happened, that as one of the priests, who had been making a charitable visit to a widow who lived on the promontory of Lilybeum, returned home pretty late in the evening, the dogs flew at him with so much fury, that they would have worried him if his brethren had not come to his assistance; upon which, says my author, the dogs were all of them hanged, as having lost their original instinct." 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. OVID, Met. I. 175. "SIR, 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.. "As in Solomon's temple there was the Sanctum Sanctorum, in which a visible glory appeared among the figures of the cherubim, 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 archangels, after having made a propitiation for the sins of mankind. "With how much skill must the throne of God be erected! With what glorious designs is that habitation beautified, which is contrived and built by Him who inspired Hiram with wisdom! How great must be the majesty of that place, where the whole art of creation has been employed, and where God has chosen to show himself in the most magnificent manner? What must be the architecture of infinite power under the direction of infinite wisdom? A spirit cannot but be transported after an ineffable manner, with the sight of those objects, which were made to affect him by that Being who knows the inward frame of a soul, and how to please and ravish it in all' its most secret powers and faculties. It is to this majestic presence of God we may hold 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. "I considered in my two last letters that awful and tremendous subject, the ubiquity or omnipre-apply those beautiful expressions in holy writ: 'Besence of the Divine Being. I have shown that he is equally present in all places throughout the whole extent of infinite space. This doctrine is so agreeable to reason, that we meet with it in the writings of the enlightened heathens, as I might show at large, were it not already done by other hands. But though the Deity be thus essentially present through "As the glory of this place is transcendent beyond all the immensity of space, there is one part of it in imagination, so probably is the extent of it. There which he discovers himself in a most transcendent is light behind light, and glory within glory. How and visible glory; this is that place which is marked far that space may reach, in which God thus appears out in Scripture under the different appellations of in perfect majesty, we cannot possibly conceive. 'paradise, the third heaven, the throne of God, and Though it is not infinite, it may be indefinite; and, the habitation of his glory.' It is here where the though not immeasurable in itself, it may be so with glorified body of our Saviour resides, and where all regard to any created eye or imagination. If he has the celestial hierarchies, and the innumerable hosts made these lower regions of matter so inconceivably of angels, are represented as perpetually surround-wide and magnificent for the habitation of mortal ing 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 affect the imagination of created beings. 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 pr duce 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 habita tion 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.' "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, that is, 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 singing incessantly about his throne. Who does not here see the main strokes and outlines of this great truth we are speaking of? The same doctrine is shadowed out in many other heathen authors, though at the same time, like seve- "I have only considered this glorious place with tal other revealed truths, dashed and adulterated regard to the sight and imagination; though it is with a mixture of fables and human inventions.-highly probable that our other senses may here But to pass over the notions of the Greeks and 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 description 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 this our vital union, without proper instruments in the body Why, therefore, should we exclude the satisfaction of these faculties, 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 St. 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 man to utter. By this is meant, that what he heard is so infinitely different from any thing which he had heard in this world, that it was impossible to express it in such 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 opened 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 in this, and in two foregoing letters, treated on the most serious subject that can employ the mind of man-the omnipresence of the Deity; a subject which, if possible, should never depart from our meditations. We have considered the Divine Being, as he inhabits infinitude, as he dwels among his works, as he is present to the mind of man, and as he discovers himself in a more glonous 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 philo sophy, but ought to sink us into the lowest prostra tion before Him who is so astonishingly wonderful and holy." No. 581.] MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 1714 I AM at present sitting with a heap of letters before me, which I have received under the character of Spectator. I have complaints from lovers, schemes from projectors, scandal from ladies, congratulations, compliments, and advice, in abundance. I have not been thus long an author, to be insen sible of the natural fondness every person must have for their own productions; and I begin to think I have treated my correspondents a little too uncivilly in stringing them all together on a file, and letting them lie so long unregarded. I shall therefore, for the future, think myself at least obliged to take some notice of such letters as I receive, and may possibly do it at the end of every month. In the mean time I intend my present paper as a short answer to most of those which have been al ready sent me. The public, however, are not to expect I should let them into all my secrets; and, though I appear abstruse to most people, it is sufficient if I am understood by my particular correspondents. My well-wisher, Van Nath, is very arch, but not quite enough so to appear in print. Philadelphus will," in a little time, see his query fully answered by a treatise which is now in the press. It was very improper at that time to comply with Mr. G. Miss Kitty must excuse me. The gentleman who sent me a copy of verses on his mistress's dancing, is, I believe, too thoroughly in love to compose correctly. I have too great a respect for both the universi ties, to praise one at the expense of the other. Tom Nimble is a very honest fellow, and I desire him to present my humble service to his cousin Fill Bumper. I am obliged for the letter upon prejudice. The petition of P. S. granted. I thank Aristippus for his kind invitation. My friend at Woodstock is a bold man to undertake for all within ten miles of him. I am afraid the entertainment of Tom Turnover will hardly be relished by the good cities of London and Westminster. I must consider further of it, before I indulge W. F. in those freedoms he takes with the ladies' stockings. I am obliged to the ingenious gentleman who sent me an ode on the subject of a late Spectator, and shall take particular notice of his last letter. When the lady who wrote me a letter 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, Philanthropos is, I dare say, a very well-meaning man, but is a little too prolix in his compositions. Constantius himself must be the best judge in the affair he mentions. The letter dated from Lincoln is received. Arethusa and her friend may hear further from me. Celia is a little too hasty. Harriet is a good girl, but must not courtesy to folks she does not know. I must ingenuously confess my friend Samson Benstaff has quite puzzled me, and writ me a long letter which I cannot comprehend one word of. Collidan must also explain what he means by his **drigelling." I think it beneath my spectatorial dignity to concern myself in the affair of the boiled dumpling. I shall consult some literati on the project sent me for the discovery of the longitude. the itch of writing." This cacoëthes is as epidemical as the small-pox, there being very few who are not seized with it some time or other in their lives. There is, however, this difference in these two distempers, that the first, after having indisposed you for a time, never returns again: 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, you may assure yourself there is no other way of recovering him effectually, but by forbidding him the use of pen, ink, and paper. 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 words 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 I know not how to conclude this paper better than by inserting a couple of letters which are really genaine, and which I look upon to be two of the smartest pieces I have received from my correspond-reading of all others, namely, that we are sure, if we ents of either sex : "BROTHER SPEC., "While you are surveying every object that falls in your way, I am wholly taken up with one. Had that sage who demanded what beauty was, lived to see the dear angel I love, he would not have asked such a question. Had another seen her, he would himself have loved the person in whom Heaven has made virtue visible; and, were you yourself to be in her company, you could never, with all your loquacity, say enough of her good-humour and sense. I send you the outlines of a picture, which I can no more finish, than I can sufficiently admire the dear original. I am, your most affectionate Brother, "CONSTANTIO Spec." have but patience, we may come to the end of their labours. I have often admired a humorous saying of Diogenes, who reading a dull author to several of his friends, when every one began to be tired, finding that he was almost come to a blank leaf at the end of it, he cried, "Courage, 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. It is a melancholy thing to consider that the art of printing, which might be the greatest blessing to mankind, should prove detrimental to us, and that it should be made use of to scatter prejudice and ignorance through a people, instead of conveying to them truth and knowledge. I was lately reading a very whimsical treatise, entitled William Ramsay's Vindication of Astrology. This profound author, among many mystical passages, has the following one: "The absence of the sun is not the cause of night, forasmuch as his light is so great that it may illuminate the earth all over at once, as clear as broad day; but there are tenebrificous and dark stars, by whose influence night is brought on, and which do ray out darkness and obscurity upon the earth as the sun does light." 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 No. 582.1 WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18, 1714. gentlemen, who have been dull in concert, and may -Tenet insanabile multòs Scribendi cacõethes Juv. Sat. vii. 51. The curse of writing is an endless itch.-CH. DRYDEN. THERE is a certain distemper, which is mentioned neither by Galen nor Hippocrates, nor to be met with in the London Dispensary. Juvenal, in the motto of my paper, terms it a cacoëthes; which is hard word for a disease called in plain English, 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. Put in the pillory. |