company of angels and spirits of just men made | be different mansions and apartments of pers perfect? beings of diferent natures; whether, a fine This is certain, that our imaginations cannot be rel one another in perfection, they are box am raised too high when we think on a place where ted nearer to the throne of the Almighty, mits omnipotence and omniscience have so signally ex-joy greater manifestations of as presence; vad erted themselves, because that they are able to there are not solemn times and occasio, vei produce a scene infinitely more great and glorious the multitude of beaven celebrate the prese than what we are able to imagine. It is not im- their Maker in more extraordinary forms of p possible but at the consummation of all things these and adoration; as Adam, thouga be bad conier outward apartments of nature, which are now in a state of innocence, world, in the operati suited to those beings who inhabit them, may be our divines, have kept holy the sabbarb-day. taken in and added to that glorious place of which I more particular manner than any other of the ver am here speaking, and by that means made a These, and the like speculation, we may pa proper habitation for beings who are exempt from nocently indulge, so long as we make „zelte mortality, and cleared of their imperfections: for to inspire us with a desire of accoming ina so the scripture seems to intimate when it speaks of of this delightful place. “new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness." ADDISON. 'I have in this, and in twɔ farseving lese, treated on the most serious subject that can esar I have only considered this glorious place with the mind of man, the omnipre ace of the Des regard to the sight and imagination, though it is a subject which, if possible, stavaid never bee highly probable that our other senses may here from our meditations. We have cobblerel se likewise enjoy their highest gratifications. There Divine Being, as he inhabits infinitude, as m is nothing which more ravishes and transports the dwells among his works, as he is presett ta 2 soul than harmony; and we have great reason to mind of man, and as he discovers himse if in a us believe, from the descriptions of this place in holy glorious manner among the regions of the b scripture, that this is one of the entertainments of Such a consideration should be kept awake at. it. And if the soul of man can be so wonderfully all times, and in all places, and possess our to affected with those strains of music which human with a perpetual awe and reverence. It sh art is capable of producing, how much more will be interwoven with all our thoughts and pero it be raised and elevated by those in which is ex- tions, and become one with the conscioZSBPH) erted the whole power of harmony! The senses our own being. It is not to be reflected on it up are faculties of the human soul, though they can- coldness of philosophy, but ought to sink not be employed, during this our vital union, with- the lowest prostration before him, who is so out proper instruments in the body. Why there-nishingly great, wonderful, and holy.' fore 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 an 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 un-dance. speakable 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 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 information 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 N° 581. MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 1714. Sunt bona, sunt quædam med ocrit, sunt mala plura Some good, more bad, some neither one not ther I AM at present sitting with a heap of letters be fore me, which I have received under the charac ter of Spectator. I have complaints from lovers schemes from projectors, scandal from lad os, gratulations, compliments, and advice, la abua I have not been thus long an author, to be d sensible of the natural fonduess every person as have for their own productions; and I begi think I have treated my correspondents a little an uncivilly in stringing them all together on a and letting them lie so long unregarded. 1 therefore, for the future, think myself at a obliged to take some notice of such letters as I the ceive, and may possibly do it at the end of every month. In the meantime, I intend my present paper as a short answer to most of those which have be already sent me. The public, however, is not to expect I let them into all my secrets; and, thonga I pear abstruse to most people, it is sufficiet if Las understood by my particular correspondents My well-wisher Van Nath is very arch, bat quite enough so to appear in print. Philadelphus will, in a little time, see his 4 fully answered by a treatise which is now press. was very improper at that time to comply with humour and sense. I send you the outlines of a G. iss Kitty must excuse me. he gentleman who sent me a copy of verses on nistress's dancing is, I believe, too thoroughly we to compose correctly. have too great a respect for both the universito praise one at the expense of the other. om Nimble is a very honest fellow, and I dehim to present my humble service to his cousin Bumper. am obliged for the letter upon prejudice. I WILL allow you nothing till you resolve me the following question. Pray what is the reason that, while you only talk now upon Wednesdays, Fridays, and Mondays, you pretend to be a greater may in due time animadvert on the case of tatler than when you spoke every day, as you force Grumble. he petition of P. S. granted. hat of Sarah Loveit refused. he papers of A. S. are returned. thank Aristippus for his kind invitation. ly friend at Woodstock is a bold man, to untake for all within ten miles of him. am afraid the entertainment of Tom Turn-over hardly be relished by the good cities of Lonand Westminster. must consider further of it, before I indulge F. in those freedoms he takes with the ladies' kings. am obliged to the ingenious gentleman who t me an ode on the subject of the late Spectaand shall take particular notice of his last er. merly used to do? If this be your plunging out of If you will be long enough for me, N° 582. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18, 1714. Tenet insanabile multos Scribendi cacoethes JUV. Sat. vii. ver. 51. The curse of writing is an endless itch. CH. DRYDEN. When the lady who wrote me a letter, dated y the 20th, in relation to some passages in a THERE is a certain distemper which is mentioned er, will be more particular in her directions, Ineither by Galen nor Hippocrates, nor to be met Il be so in my answer. The poor gentleman, who fancies my writings ld reclaim an husband who can abuse such a e as he describes, has, I am afraid, too great an nion of my skill. Philanthropos is, I dare say, a very well-meanman, but a little too prolix in his compositions. Constantius himself must be the best judge in the air he mentions. The letter dated from Lincoln is received. Arethusa and her friend may hear further from with in the London Dispensatory. Juvenal, in the motto of my paper, terms it a Cacoethes; which is a hard word for a disease called in plain English The itch of writing.' This cacoethes 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 the 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 catcall. 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 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, that we are sure if we have but patience we may come to the end of their labours. I have often admired an humorous saying of Diogenes, who, reading a dull author to several of his friends, when every one began to be That is, put in the pillory. field.' tired, finding he was almost come to a blank leaf | to them in the words of Goliath, I will give the at the end of it, cried, Courage, lads, I see to the fowls of the air, and to the beass of a 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 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. ADDISON. No 583. FRIDAY, AUGUST 20, 1714. Ipse thymum pinosque ferens de montibus altis, With his own hand, the guardian of the bees EVERY station of life has duties which are proper 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 Though exercises of this kind, when in with moderation, may have a good influenz MG on the mind and body, the country afforda na other amusements of a more noble kind, Among these I know none more delightful a s self, and beneficial to the public, thas tai planting. I could mention a nobleman wher tune has placed him in several parts of Eigna and who has always left these visible marks bean him, which show he has been there: he never the a house in his life, without leaving all about a di seeds of wealth, and bestowing legacies of t posterity of the owner. Had all the groun England made the same improvements upon e estates, our whole country would have been a sa time as one great garden. Nor ought such ployment to be looked upon as too inglorios men of the highest rank. There have been ba in this art, as well as in others. We are told particular of Cyrus the Great, that he planet a the Lesser Asia. There is indeed something t magnificent in this kind of amusement; it give. nobler air to several parts of nature; it is earth with a variety of beautiful scenes, and la something in it like creation. For this rende a pleasure of one who plants is something like du of a poet, who, as Aristotle observes, is more lighted with his productions than any other w or artist whatsoever. Plantations have one advantage in them whe not to be found in most other works, as they go pleasure of a more lasting date, and conti improve in the eye of the planter. When w have finished a building, or any other undertal of the like nature, it immediately decays upon hands; you see it brought to its utmost pot perfection, and from that time hastening to a ruin. On the contrary, when you have your plantations, they are still arriving at gr degrees of perfection as long as you live, and a pear more delightful in every succeeding year th they did in the foregoing. But I do not only recommend this art to estates as a pleasing amusement, but as it is a ka of virtuous employment, and may therefore be culcated by moral motives; particularly from a love which we ought to have for our country, in the regard which we ought to bear to our poster As for the first, I need only mention what a t quently observed by others, that the increze e rest-trees does by no means bear a proporties s destruction of them, insomuch that in a few ♫ the nation may be at a loss to supply sell a timber sufficient for the fleets of England. 1 when a man talks of posterity in matters of 20 nature he is looked upon with an eye of rat în the cunning and selfish part of mankind. Wateja are of the humour of an old fellow of a college, when he was pressed by the society to cour something that might redound to the good no 20% successors, grew very peevish; • We are an ing,' says he, 'something for posterity, but i word fain see posterity do something for u. But I think men are inexcusable, who: 2 duty of this nature, since it is so easily disci When a man considers that the putting a few *** into the ground is doing good to one make his appearance in the world about any hence, or that he is perhaps making one of her and descendants easy or rich, by so inconsidera i expense; if he finds himself averse to s fruitful region which lies at the foot of mount Tirzah, in the southern parts of China. Shalum (which is to say the planter, in the Chinese language) possessed all the neighbouring hills, and that great range of mountains which goes under the name of Tirzah. Harpath was of a haughty contemptuous spirit; Shalum was of a gentle disposition, beloved both by God and man. onclude that he has a poor and base heart, void of It is said that, among the antediluvian women, the daughters of Cohu had their minds wholly set upon riches; for which reason the beautiful Hilpa preferred Harpath to Shalum, because of his numerous flocks and herds, that covered all the low country which runs along the foot of mount Tirzah, and is watered by several fountains and streams breaking out of the sides of that moun Harpath made so quick a dispatch of his courtship, that he married Hilpa in the hundredth year of her age; and, being of an insolent temper, laughed to scorn his brother Shalum for having pretended to the beautiful Hilpa, when he was master of nothing but a long chain of rocks and mountains. This so much provoked Shalum, that he is said to have cursed his brother in the bitterness of his heart, and to have prayed that one of his mountains might fall upon his head if ever he came within the shadow of it. Upon the foregoing considerations, I can scarce rbear representing the subject of this paper as a nd of moral virtue; which, as I have already own, recommends itself likewise by the pleasure at attends it. It must be confessed that this is one of those turbulent pleasures which is apt to atify a man in the heats of youth; but, if it be t so tumultuous, it is more lasting. Nothing can more delightful than to entertain ourselves with rospects of our own making, and to walk under ose shades which our own industry has raised. musements of this nature compose the mind, and y at rest all those passions which are uneasy to e soul of man, besides that they naturally enender good thoughts, and dispose us to laudable ntemplations. Many of the old philosophers ssed away the greatest parts of their lives nong their gardens. Epicurus himself could not ink sensual pleasure attainable in any other ene. Every reader, who is acquainted with Hoer, Virgil, and Horace, the greatest geniuses of Hilpa was in the hundred and sixtieth year of I antiquity, knows very well with how much rap-hier age at the death of her husband, having brought re they have spoken on this subject; and that irgil in particular has written a whole book on e art of planting. From this time forward Harpath would never venture out of the vallies, but came to an untimely end in the two hundred and fiftieth year of his age, being drowned in a river as he attempted to cross it. This river is called to this day, from his name who perished in it, the river Harpath; and, what is very remarkable, issues out of one of those mountains which Shalum wished might fall upon his brother, when he cursed him in the bitterness of his heart. him but fifty children before he was snatched away, as has been already related. Many of the antediluvians made love to the young widow; though no This art seems to have been more especially one was thought so likely to succeed in her affeclapted to the nature of man in his primevaltions as her first lover Shalum, who renewed his ate, when he had life enough to see his producons flourish in their utmost beauty, and gradually cay with him. One who lived before the flood ight have seen a wood of the tallest oaks in the corn. But I only mention this particular, in orer to introduce, in my next paper, a history hich I have found among the accounts of China, ad which may be looked upon as an antediluvian ovel. ADDISON. N° 584. MONDAY, AUGUST 23, 1714. Hic gelidi fontes, hic mollia prata, Lycori, ILPA was one of the hundred and fifty daughters Zilpah, of the race of Cohu, by whom some of e learned think is meant Cain. She was exceedgly beautiful; and, when she was but a girl of reescore and ten years of age, received the adesses of several who made love to her. Among ese were two brothers, Harpath and Shalum. arpath, being the first-born, was master of that court to her about ten years after the death of Harpath; for it was not thought decent in those days that a widow should be seen by a man within ten years after the decease of her husband. Shalum falling into a deep melancholy, and resolving to take away that objection which had been raised against him when he made his first addresses to Hilpa, began, immediately after her marriage with Harpath, to plant all that mountainous region which fell to his lot in the division of this country. He knew how to adapt every plant to its proper soil, and is thought to have inherited many traditional secrets of that art from the first man. This employment turned at length to his profit as well as to his amusement: his mountains were in a few years shaded with young trees, that gradually shot up into groves, woods, and forests, intermixed with walks, and lawns, and gardens; insomuch that the whole region, from a naked and desolate prospect, began now to look like a second Paradise. The pleasantness of the place, and the agreeable disposition of Shalum, who was reckoned one of the mildest and wisest of all who lived before the flood, drew into it multitudes of people, who were perpetually employed in the sinking of wells, the digging of trenches, and the hollowing of trees, for the better distribution of water through every part of this spacious plantation. The habitations of Shalum looked every year more beautiful in the eyes of Hilpa, who, after the space of seventy autumnos, was wonderfully pleased with the distant prospect of Shalum's hills, which were then covered with innumerable tufts of trees, and gloomy scenes, that gave a magnificence to the place, and converted it into one of the finest landscapes the eye of man could behold. The Chinese record a letter which Shalum is said to have written to Hilpa in the eleventh year of her widowhood. I shall here translate it, without departing from that noble simplicity of sentiments and plainness of manners which appear in the original. Shalum was at this time one hundred and eighty years old, and Hilpa one hundred and seventy. < Shalum, Master of Mount Tirzah, to Hilpa, Mistress of the Vallies. In the 788th year of the creation. enamoured with the verdure of her meadow? !thou not more affected with the prospect 2. green vallies than thou wouldest be with the g of her person? The lowings of my herds, an bleatings of my flocks, make a pleasant et thy mountains, and sound sweetly in thy em What though I am delighted with the waving thy forests, and those breezes of perfumes flow from the top of Tirzah, are these like to riches of the valley? 'I knew thee; O Shalum; thou art more a and happy than any of the sons of men, dwellings are among the cedars; thou searched the diversity of soils, thou understandest the fluences of the stars, and markest the charg seasons. Can a woman appear lovely in the e of such an one? Disquiet me not, O Shalu: • me alone, that I may enjoy those goodly p sions which are fallen to my lot. Win me e thy enticing words. May thy trees increze multiply; mayest thou add wood to wood, solitude, and make thy retirement populous. shade to shade; but tempt not Hilpa to destroy accepted of a treat in one of the neighbourites The Chinese say that a little time afterward to which Shalum had invited her. This treat be for two years, and is said to have cost Shalua hundred antelopes, two thousand ostriches, and thousand tuns of milk; but what most of a commended it, was that variety of delicions m and potherbs, in which no person then living on any way equal Shalum. He treated her in the bower which be WHAT have I not suffered, O thou daughter of Zilpah, since thou gavest thyself away in marriage to my rival? I grew weary of the light of the sun, and have ever since been covering myself with woods and forests. These threescore and ten years have I bewailed the loss of thee on the tops of Mount Tirzah, and soothed my melancholy among a thousand gloomy shades of my own raising. My dwellings are at present as the garden of God; every part of them is filled with fruits, and flowers, and fountains. The whole mountain is perfumed for thy reception. Come up into it, O my beloved, and let us people this spot of the new world with a beautiful race of mortals; let us multiply exceedingly among these delightful shades, and fill every quarter of them with sons and daughters. Remember, O thou daughter of Zilpah, that the age of man is but a thousand years; that beauty is the admiration but of a few centuries. It flourishes as a mountain oak, or as a cedar on the top of Tirzah, which in three or four hundred years will fade away, and never be thought of by poste-surprising scene in this new region of wood He showed her every day some beautifla rity, unless a young wood springs from its roots. and, as by this means he had all the opport Think well on this, and remember thy neighbour he could wish for of opening his mind ia ber in the mountains.' succeeded so well, that upon her departure made him a kind of promise, and gave fifty years. word to return him a positive answer in les Having here inserted this letter, which I look upon as the only antediluvian billet-doux now extant, I shall in my next paper give the answer to it, and the sequel of this story. ADDISON. N° 585. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1714. Ipsi lætitia voces ad sideru jactant VIRG. Ecl. v. ver. 63. THE SEQUEL OF THE STORY OF SHALUM AND HILPA, THE letter inserted in my last had so good an effect upon Hilpa, that she answered it in less than a twelvemonth, after the following manner : planted amidst the wood of nightingales T She had not been long among her own pee the vallies, when she received new overtures 21 at the same time a most splendid visit, from Xi pach, who was a mighty man of old, and bad a great city, which he called after his ow Every house was made for at least a the years, nay, there were some that were least at for three lives; so that the quantity of sto timber consumed in this building is scarce 1 imagined by those who live in the present the world. This great man entertained bet the voice of musical instruments which bad en lately invented, and danced before her to the of the timbrel. He also presented her with seve domestic utensils wrought in brass and ires, wb. had been newly found out for the conve life. In the meantime Shalum grew very with himself, and was sorely displeased a for the reception which she had given to Mu insomuch that he never wrote to her or spoke Hilpa, Mistress of the Vallies, to Shalum, Master during a whole revolution of Saturn; but, a of Mount Tirzah. In the 789th year of the creation. WHAT have I to do with thee, O Shalum? Thou praisest Hilpa's beauty, but art thou not secretly that this intercourse went no further than a he again renewed his addresses to her; who, do his long silence, is said very often to have a wishing eye upon mount Tirzab. |