the earth is opposed to its annual; or its mo tion round its own centre, which might be improved as an illuftration of felf love, to that which whirls it about the common centre of the world, answering to universal benevolence. Ís the force of felf-love abated, or its interest prejudiced by benevolence? So far from it, that. benevolence, though a diftinct principle, is extremely serviceable to self-love, and then doth most fervice when it is leaft defigned.

of the heart of man, and, however checked
and overtopped by count r inclinations that
have fince fprung up within us, have still some
force in the worst of tempers, and a confi-
derable influence on the best. And, methinks,
it is a fair ftep towards the proof of this, that
the most beneficent of all beings is he who
hath an abfolute fulness of perfection in him-
felf, who gave affiftance to the univerfe, and
fo cannot be fuppofed to want that which he
communicated, without diminishing from the
plenitude of his own power and happinefs.
The philofophers before-mentioned have indeed
done all that in them lay to invalidate this
argument; for, placing the gods in a ftate of
the most elevated bleffednefs, they defcribe them
as felfifh as we poor miferable mortals can be,
and fhut them out from all concerns for man-
kind, upon the score of their having no need
of us.
But if he that fitteth in the heavens
wants not us, we stand in continual need of
him; and furely, next to the furvey of the im-
menfe treasures of his own mind, the moft
exalted pleasure he receives is from beholding
millions of cre itures lately drawn out of the
gulph of non-existence, rejoicing in the vari-
ous degrees of being and happiness imparted to
them. And as this is the true, the glorious
character of the Deity, so in forming a reason-
able creature he would not, if poffible, fuffer
his image to pafs out of his hands unadorned
with a refemblance of himself in this moft
lovely part of his nature For what compla-
sency could a mind, whose love is as unbound
ed as his knowledge, have in a work fo unlike
himfelf; a creature that fhould be capable of
knowing and converfing with a vaft circle of
objects, and love none but himself. What
proportion would there be between the head
and the heart of fuch a creature, its affections,
and its understanding? Or could a fociety of
fuch creatures, with no other bottom but felf-
love on which to maintain a commerce, ever
flourish? Reason, it is certain, would oblige
every man to pursue the general happiness; as
the means to procure and eftablish his own;
and yet, if befides this confideration, there
were not a natural instinct, prompting men
to defire the welfare and fatisfaction of others;
felf-love, in defiance of the admonitions of
reafon, would quickly run all things into a state
of war and confusion. As nearly interested as
the foul is in the fate of the body, our provi-
dent Creator faw it neceffary, by the conftant,
return of hunger and thirst, thofe importunate
appetites, to put it in mind of its charge;
knowing that if we thould eat and drink no
Oftner than cold abtracted fpeculation fhould
put us upon thefe, exercifes, and then leave it
to reafon to prefcribe the quantity, we fhould,
foon refine ourfelves out of this bodily life.
And, indeed, it is obvious to remark, that we
follow nothing heartily unlefs carried to it by
Inclinations which anticipate our reafon, and,
like a bias, draw the mind ftrongly towards it.
In order, therefore, to establish a perpetual in-
tercourse of benefits amongft mankind, their
Maker would not fail to give them this, generous
prepoffeffion of benevolence, if, as I have faid,
It were impoffible. And from whence can we
go about to argue its impoffibility? Is it incon-
üftent with felf love? Are their motions con-
rary? No more than the diurnal rotation of

But to defcend from reason to matter of fa&t; the pity which arifes on fight of perfons in dif trefs, and the fatisfaction of mind which is the confequence of having removed them into a happier state, are instead of a thousand arguments to prove fuch a thing as a difinterested benevolence. Did pity proceed from a reflection we make upon our liableness to the fame ill accidents we fee befal others, it were nothing to the prefent purpose; but this is affigning an artificial caufe of a natural paffion, and can by no means be admitted as a tolerable account of it, because children and perfons moft thoughtlefs about their own condition, and incapable. of entering into the profpects of futurity, feel the moft violent touches of compaffion. And then as to that charming delight which imme diately follows the giving joy to another, or re. lieving his forrow, and is, when the objects are numerous, and the kindnefs of importance, really inexpreffible; what can this be owing to but confcioufnefs of a man's having done fomething praife worthy, and expreffive of a great foul? Whereas, if in all this he only facrificed to vanity and felf-love, as there would be no> thing brave in actions that make the most shining appearance, fo nature would not have rewarded them with this divine pleasure; nor could the commendations, which a perfon receives for benefits done upon felfish views, be at all more fatisfactory, than when he is ap plauded for what he doth without defign; becaufe in both cafes the ends of feif-love are equally anfwered. The confcience of approv ing one's felf a benefactor to mankind is the nobleft recompenfe for being fo; doubtless it is, and the most interested cannot propose any thing fo much to their own advantage; notwithstanding which, the inclination is neverthelefs unfelfish. The pleafure which attends the gratification of our hunger and thirst, is not the caufe of these appetites; they are previous to any fuch prospect; and fo likewife is the defire of doing good; with this difference, that being feated in the intellectual part, this laft, though antecedent to reafon may yet be improved and regulated by it, and, I will add, is no otherwife a virtue than as it is fo. Thus have I contended, for the dignity of that nature I have the honour to 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 fuch a thing as generofity in the world. Though if I were under a mistake in this, I fhould fay as Cicero in relation to the immortality of the foul, I willingly err, and fhould believe it very much for the intereft of mankind to lie under the fame delufion. For the contrary notion naturally tends to difpirit the mind, and finks it into a meannefa fatal to the God-like zeal of doing good as on the other hand, it teaches people to be ungrateful, by poffeffing them with a perfuafion concerning

whom it was dedicated. The goddefs could

their benefactors, that they have no regard toon mount Ida, which however he durft not do them in the benefits they bestow. Now he until he had obtained leave from Cybele, to that banishes gratitude from among men, by fo doing ftops the ftream of beneficence. For though in conferring kindneffes, 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 perfon more unworthy of a benefit, than his being without all refentment of it, he will not be extremely forward to oblige fuch a man.

N° 589. FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 3.

Perfequitur fcelus ille frum: labefactaque tandem
Itibus innumeris addu&taque funibus arbor
Corruit-
OVID. Met. 1. S. ver. 774.
The impious ax he plies; loud ftrokes refound';
'Till dragg'd with ropes, and fell'd with many
a wound,

The loofen'd tree comes rushing to the ground..

SIR,

AM fo great an admirer of trees, that the

a fmall feat upon, in the country, is almoft in the midft of a large wood. I was obliged, much against my will, to cut down several trees, that I might have any fuch 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 prefents you with a much more ⚫ beautiful fcene than could have been raised by

art.

Inftead of tulips or carnations, I can fhetv • you oaks in my gardens of four hundred years ⚫ítanding, and a knot of elms that might fhelter a troop of horfe from the rain.

It is not without the utmost indignation, that I obferve feveral prodigal young heirs in ⚫ the neighbourhood, felling down the most glo⚫rious monuments of their ancestors industry, ⚫ and ruining, in a day, the product of ages.

I am mightily pleafed with your difcourfe upon planting, which put me upon looking ' into my books to give you fome account of the ' veneration the ancients had for trees. There is an old tradition, that Abraham planted a cypress; a pine, and a cedar, and that these three 'incorporated into one tree, which was cut down ⚫ for the building of the temple of Solomon.

not but think herfelf obliged to protect these fhips, which were made of confecrated timber, ' after a very extraordinary manner, and there"fore defired Jupiter, that they might not be obnoxious to the power of waves or winds, Jupiter would not grant this, but promifed her, that as many as came safe to Italy, fhould ⚫ be transformed into goddeffes of the fea; which the poet tells us was accordingly executed,

"And now at length the number'd hours were
"6 come,

"Perfix'd by Fate's irrevocable doom,
"When the great mother of the gods was free
First, from the quarter of the morn, there
"To fave her hips, and finish'd Jove's decree,
"fprung

"A light that fign'd the heavens, and shot alonge "Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden "fires,

"Were timbrels heard, and Berecynthian quires & "And last a voice, with more than mortal founds, "Both hofts in arms oppos'd with equal horror "wounds.

"O Trojan race, your needlefs aid forbear; "And know my fhips are my peculiar care. "With greater eafe the bold Rutulian may, "With hiffing brands, attempt to burn the fea "Than finge my facred pines. But you, my "charge,

"Loos'd from your crooked anchors launch at
large,

"Exalted each a nymph: forfake the fand,
"And swim the feas, at Cybele's command.
"No fooner had the goddess ceas'd to fpeak,
"When lo, th' obedient ships their haulfers
break;

And ftrange to tell, like dolphins in the main, "They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring "again:

"As many beauteous maids the billows Tweep, "As rode before tall veffels 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 any thing yet mentoned. It was thought the fate of thefs nymphs had fo near a dependence on fame trees, more efpecially oaks, that they lived and died together. For this reason they were. extremely grateful to fuch perfons who pre⚫ ferved thofe trees with which their being fub, Apollonius tells us a very remarkable ftory to this purpofe, with which I thall con"clude my letter.

'Ifidorus, who lived in the reign of Conftantius, affures us, that he faw, even in his time,fifted. that famous oak in the plains of Mamré, under which Abraham is reported to have dwelt, and adds, that the peo le looked upon it with ' a great veneration, and preserved it as a facred

tree.

The heathens ftill went farther, and regard ed it as the highest picce of facrilege to injure certain trees which they took to be protected by fome deity. The ftory of Erifi@hon, the grove at Dodona, and that at Delphi, are all inftances of this kind,

If we confider the machine in Virgil, fo, much blamed by feveral critics in this light, we shall hardly think it too violent.

'Æneas, when he built his fleet in order to * fail for Italy, was obliged to cut down the grove

A certain man, called Rhærus, obferving an old oak ready to fall, and being moved with a 'fort of compaffion towards the tree, ordered, his fervants to pour in fresh earth at the roots of it, and fet it upright. The Hamadryad, or nymph, who must neceffarily have perished with the tree, appeared to him the next day, and after having returned him her thanks, rold him, he was ready to grant whatever he should afk. As he was extremely beautiful, Rhecis defired he might be entertained as her lover, The Hamadryad, not much difpleafed with the • request, promised to give him a meeting, but commended him for some days to abstain from

the

the embraces of all other women, adding that the would fend a bee to him, to let him know when he was to be happy. Rhæcus was, it

fubject of another paper. The nature of this eternity is utterly inconceivable by the mind of man: our reafon demonftrates to us that it

feems, too much addicted to gaming, and hap-has been, but at the fame time can frame no

pened to be in a run of ill-luck when the faithful bee came buzzing about him; fo that inftead of minding his kind invitation, he had like to have killed him for his pains. The Hamadryad was fo provoked at her own dif<appointment, and the ill ufage of her meffenger, that the deprived Rhacus of the ufe of his <limbs. However, fays the ftory, he was not fo much a cripple, but he made a fhift to cut down the tree, and confequently to fell his • miftrefs.'

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 fountain ftill fupplies her ftore,
The wave behind impels the wave before;
Thus in fucceffive courfe the minutes run,"
And urge their predeceffor minutes on,
Still moving, ever new: for former things
Are laid afide, like abdicated kings;
And ev'ry moment alters what is done,
And innovates fome aft, till then unknown.

Dryden.

The following difcourfe comes from the fame hand with the effays upon infinitude.

WE

E confider infinite space as an expanfion without a circumference: we ⚫ confider eternity, or infinite duration, as a line that has neither a beginning nor an end. In our speculations of infinite space, we confider that particular place in which we exift, as a • kind of centre to the whole expanfion. In our fpeculations of eternity, we confider the time which is prefent to us as the middle, which divides the whole line into two equal parts. For this reafon, many witty authors compare the prefent time to an ifthmus or narrow neck of land, that rifes in the midst of an ocean, immeasurably diffused on either fide of it.

Philofophy, and indeed common sense, na⚫turally throws eternity under two divifions, which we may call in English, that eternity. which is paft, and that eternity which is to come. The learned terms of Eternitas a parte ante, and Eternitas a parte poft, may be more amufing 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 paft, 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 confider that eternity which • is paft, referving that which is to come for the

idea of it, but what is big with absurdity and contradiction. We can have no other concep tion of any duration which is paft, than that all of it was once prefent; and whatever was once prefent, is at fome certain diftance from us, be the distance never fo remote, cannot be eternity. The very notion of any duration's being paft, implies that it was once present, for the idea of being once prefent, is actually included in the idea of its being paft, This therefore is a depth not to be founded by hu-? 'man understanding. We are fure that there has been an eternity, and yet contradict ourfelves when we measure this eternity by any notion which we can frame of it.

If we go to the bottom of this matter, we 'fhall find that the difficulties we meet with in our conceptions of eternity proceed from this fingle reafon, that we can have no other idea of any kind of duration, than that by which we ourselves, and all other created beings da exift; which is, a fucceffive duration made up of paft, prefent, and to come. There is 'nothing which exifts after this manner, all the parts of whofe exiftence were not once actually • prefent, and confequently may be reached by a certain number of years applied to it. We

may afcend as high as we pleafe, 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 fame time we are fure, that what⚫ ever was once prefent does lie within the reach of numbers, though perhaps we can never be able to put enough of them together for that purpofe. We may as well fay, that any thing may be actually prefent in any part of infinite fpace, which does not lie at a certain distance from us, as that any part of infinite duration · was once actually prefent, and does not alfo lie at fome determined diftance from us. The 'diftance in both cafes may be immeafurable and indefinite as to our faculties, but our reafon tells us that it cannot be fo in itself. Here therefore is that difficulty which human understanding is not capable of furmounting. We are fure that fomething must have existed from eternity, and are at the fame time unable to conceive, that any thing which exifts, according to our notion of existence, can have. 'existed from eternity.

It is hard for a reader, who has not rolled this thought in his own mind, to follow in fuch an abstracted fpeculation; but I have been the longer on it, because I think it is a demonftrative argument of the being and eternity of God: and though there are many other demonftrations which lead us to this great truth, I do not think we ought to lay afide any proofs in this matter, which the light of reafon has fuggefted to us, especially when it is fuch a one as has been urged by men famous for their penetration and force of understanding, and which appears altogether conclufive to thofe who will be at the pains to examine it.

Having thus confidered that eternity which -is paft, according to the best idea we can frame of it, I fhall now draw up thofe feveral articles