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pach, who was a mighty man of old, and had built a great city, which he called after his own
Every house was made for at least a thousand years, nay there were some that were leased out for three lives; so that the quantity of stone and timber consumed in this building is scarce to be imagined by those who live in the present age of the world. This great man entertained her with the voice of mufical instruments, which had been lately invented, and danced before her to the found of the timbrel. He also presented her with several domestic utensils wrought in brass and iron, which had been newly found out for the conveniency of life. In the mean time Shalum grew very uneasy with himself, and was forely displeased at Hilpa for the reception which she had given to Mishpach, insomuch that he never wrote to her or spoke of her during a whole revolution of Saturn ; but finding that this intercourse went i farther than a visit, he again renewed his addresses to her, who during his long silence is said very often to have cast a wishing eye upon mount Tirzah.
Hér mind continued wavering about twenty years longer between Shalum and Mishpach; for though her inclinations favoured the former, her interest pleaded very powerfully for the other. While her heart was in this unsettled condition, the following accident happened which determined her choice. A high tower of wood that stood in the city of Mishpach having caught fire by a flash of lightning, in a few days reduced the whole town to ashes. Mishpach resolved to rebuild the place whatever it should cost him: And having already deftroyed all the timber of the country, he was forced to have recourse to Shalum, whose forests were now two hundred years old. He purchased these woods with fo many herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, and with such a vast extent of fields and pastures, that Shalum was now grown more wealthy than Misppach;
and therefore appeared fo charming in the eyes of Zilpach's daughter, that the no longer refused him in marriage. On the day in which he brought her up into the mountains, he raised a most prodigious pile of cedar, and of every sweet-smelling wood, which reached above 300 cubits in height : He also cast into the pile bundles of myrrh and sheaves of spikenard, enriching it with every spicy shrub, and making it fat with the gums of the plantations. This was the burnt-offering which Shalum offered in the day of his efpoufals: The smoke of it af. scended up to heaven, and filled the whole country with incenfe and perfume. X*XXXXX*XXX*XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
FRIDAY, AUGUST 27.
Quæ in vita ufurpant homines, cogitant, curant, vident, quæque agunt vigilantes, agitantque, ea cuique in fomno accidunt.
Cic. de Div. The things, which employ mens waking thoughts
and actions, recur to their imaginations in
fleep. BY Y the last poft I received the following letter,
which is built upon a thought that is new, and very well carried on; for which reasons I shall give it to the publick without alteration, addition, or amendment.
T was a good piece of advice which Pythagoras
gave to his scholars, That every night before they slept they should examine what they had • been doing that day, and so discover what acti
ons were worthy of pursuit to-morrow, and what • little vices were to be prevented from slipping un.
• awares into a habit. If I might second the phi.
lofopher's advice, it should be mine, that in a • morning before my scholar rose, he thould con' sider what he had been about that night, and ' with the same strickness, as if the condition he • has believed himself to be in, was real. Such a 'scrutiny into the actions of his fancy must be of
considerable advantage, for this reason, because the circumstances which a man imagines himself ' in during sleep, are generally such as intirely fa
vour his inclinations good or bad, and give him imaginary opportunities of pursuing them to the utmost;
so that his temper will lie fairly open to • his view, while he confiders how it is moved when • free from those constraints which the accidents ' of real life put it under. Dreams are certainly the result of our waking thoughts, and our daily hopes and fears are what give the mind such nimble relishes of pleasure, and such fevere touches of pain in its midnight rambles. A man that murders his enemy, or deserts his friend in a dream, had need to guard his temper against re
venge and ingratitude, and take heed that he be 'not tempted to do a vile thing in the pursuit of 'false, or the neglect of true honour. For my part, I seldom receive a benefit, but, in a night
or two's time, I make most noble returns for it; * which though my benefactor is not a whit the better for, yet it pleases me to think that it
from a principle of gratitude in me, that my ' mind was susceptible of such generous transport * while I thought myself repaying the kindness of
my friend: And I have often been ready to beg pardon, instead of returning an injury, after • confidering, that when the offender was in my
power I had carried my resentments much too far.
I think it has been observed in the course of your papers how much one's happiness or misery
* may depend upon the imagination : Of which • truth those strange workings of fancy in sleep
are no inconsiderable instances; so that nor • only the advantage a man has of making discove
ries of himself, but a regard to his own ease or
disquiet, may induce him to accept of my advice. . Such as are willing to comply with it, I shall put • into a way of doing it with pleasure, by observ
ing only one maxim which I shall give them, vizTo go to bed with a mind entirely free from pasion, and a body clear of the least intemperance.
They indeed who can fink into sleep with their 6 thoughts less calm or innocent than they should • be, do but plunge themselves into scenes of guilt • and misery; or they who are willing to purchase
any midnight disquietudes for the fatisfaction of a full meal, or a skin-full of wine; these I have
nothing to say to, as not knowing how to invite " them to reflections full of shame and horror : • But those that will observe this rule, I promise "them they shall awake into health and cheerfulness, ' and be capable of recounting with delight those
glorious moments, wherein the mind has been
indulging itself in such luxury of thought, such • noble hurry of imagination Suppose a man's • going supperless to bed should introduce him to • the table of some great prince or other, where
he shall be entertained with the noblest marks of • honour and plenty, and do so much business o after, that he shall rise with as good a stomach
to his breakfast as if he had fafted all night long ;
or suppose he thould fee his dearest friends re« main all night in great diftreffes, which he could • instantly have disengaged them from, could he • have been content to have gone to bed without • the other bottle ? Believe me these effects of fancy • are no contemptible consequences of commanding or indulging one's appetite. · I forbear recommending my advice upon many
• other accounts until I hear how you and your • readers relifh what I have already faid; among • whom if there be any that may pretend it is use* tefs to them, because they never dream at all, . there may be others perhaps who do little elfe all
day long. Were every one as fenfible as I am of . what happens to him in his fleep, it would be no
dispute whether we pass fo considerable a portion « of our time in the condition of stocks and stones, or whether the soul were not perpetually at work upon the principle of thought. However, it is an honest endeavour of mine to persuade my countrynien to reap some advantage from fo many unregarded hours, and as such you will encourage it.
• I shall conclude with giving you a sketch or * two of my way of proceeding,
• If I have any business of consequence to do to. morrow, I am scarce dropt afleep to-night but I
am in the midst of it, and when awake I consider 'the whole procellion of the affair, and get the
advantage of the next day's experience before the " fan has risen upon it.
"There is scarce a great poft but what I have I some time or other been in ; bat
my behaviour ' while I was master of a college, pleases me so ' well, that whenever there is a province of that natúre vacant, I intend to step in as soon as I
• I have done many things that would not pass. ' examination, when I have had the art of flying ' or being invisible ; for which reason I am glad I am not possessed of those extraordinary quali
Lastly, Mr. SPECTATOR, I have been a great correspondent of yours, and have read many of my letters in your paper which I never wrote you.
you have a mind I should really be so, ' I have got a parcel of visions, and other mifcelVOL. VIII.