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any thing but money. Notwithstanding all whom I know to be particufarly addi&ted to bis endeavours, he is ftill poor.
This has • drinkingi gaming, intriguing, &c. but my * fung him into a molt deplorable state of ine \ interpreter told me, I must let that alone un* lancholy and despair. He is a composition ' til another opportunity, and Aung down the • of envy and idleness, hates mankind, but cover of the cheft with so much violence, as ' gives them their revenge by being more un . immediately awoke me.' • easy to himself than to any one else.
• The phial I looked upon next contained a large fair heart, which beat very strongly: N° 588. WEDNESDAY, Sept. 1. The fomes or spot in it was exceeding finall; but I could not help observing, that which Dicitis; onnis'in imbecillitate eftec gratia, & caritaso way foever I turned the phial it always ap
Ciceko. peared uppermost, and in the strongest point You pretend that all kindness and benevolence i of light." The heart you are examining, says
is founded jn weakness. my companion, belongs to Will Worthy. He of a thousand good qualities. The speck a reasonable, and as a fociable being : which you discover is vanity,
capable of being himself either happy or miseHere,' says the angel, is the heart of rable, and of contributing to the happiness or • Freelove, your intimate friend: Freelove and mifery of his fellow creatures. Suitably to this ' 1,' said 1, are at prefent very cold to one double capacity, the contriver of human na: • another, and I do not care for looking on ture hath wisely furnished it with two principles * the heart of a man, which I fear is overcast of action, self love, and benevolence defign
with tancour. My teacher commanded me ed one of them to render man wakeful to his 'to look upon it; I did so, and to my un. own personal interest, the other to dispose him
speakable surprise, found that a small (well. for giving his utmost assistance to all engaged ' ing spot, which I at first took to be ill-will in the same pursuit. This is such an account • towards me, was only passion, and that upon of our frame, fo agreeable to reason, so much • my nearer inspection, it wholly disappeareds for the honour of our Maker, and the credit • upon which the phantom told me Freelove of our species, that it may appear somewhat was one of the best-natured men alive. unaccountable what should induce men to repre.
This,' says my teacher,'' is a female heart fent human nature as they do under character's • of your acquaintance. I found the fomes in of disadvantage, or having drawn it with a lit. • it of the largest fize, and of an hundred dif. tle fordid aspect, what pleasure they can possibly « ferent colours, which were still varying every take in such a picture? Do they reflect that it
moment. Upon my asking to whom it be- is their own, and, if we would believe them• longed, I was informed that it was the heart selves, is not more odious than the original ? of Coquetilla.
One of the first that talked in this lofty strain * I set it down, and drew out another, in of our pature was Epicutus. Bencficence, • which I took the fomes at first sight to be very would his followers say, is all founded in weako « small, but was amazed to find, that as I ness; and, whatever he pretended, the kind.
looked stedfastly upon it, it grew ftill larger. nefs that passeth between men and men is by ** It was the heart of Meliffa, a noted prude every man directed to himself. This, it must 6 who lives the next door to me.
be confesed, is of a piece with the rest of that • I Thew you this,' says the phantom, ' be. hopeful philosophy, which having patched men ** cause it is indeed a rarity, and you have the up out of the four elements, attributes his be. • happiness to know the person to whom it be- ing to chance, and derives all his actions from ✓ longs. He then put into my hands a large an unintelligible declination of atoms. And • crystal glafs, that inclosed an heart, in which 'for these glorious discoveries the poet is beyond " though I examined it with the utmost nicetý, measure transported in the praifes of his hero, • I could not perceive any blemish. I made no as if he must needs be something more than • scruple to affirm that it must be the heart of man, only for an endeavour to prove that man * Seraphina, and was glad, but not furprised, is in nothing superior to beasts. In this school * to find that it was fo. She is indeed, contie was Mr. Hobbes instructed to speak after the * nued my guide,' the ornament as well as the same manner, if he did not rather draw his
envy of her sex į at these last words he knowledge from an observation of his own tema
pointed to the hearės of several of her female per ; for he somewhere unluckily lays down • acquaintance which lay in different phials, this as a rule, ' That from the fimilitudes of • and had very large spots in them all of a deep thoughts, and patsions of one man to the 6 blue. You are not to wonder,' fays he thoughts and passions of another, whosoever
that you see no spot in an heart, whose inno. ! looks into himself and confiders, what he 'cence has been proof against all the corrup- ''dith when he thinks, hopes, fears, &c. and . tions of a depraved age. If it has any hle upon what grounds; he shall hereby read mish, it is too small to be discovered by họ. and know what are the tlioughts and passions
of all other men, upon the like occasions," I laid it down, and took up the hearts Now we will allow Mr. Hobbes to know best of other females, in all of which the fomes how he was inclined; but in earnest, I should • ran in feveral veins, which were twisted, be heartily out of conceit with myfelf, if I
together, and made a very perplexed figures thought myself of this unamiable temper, as
I asked the meaning of it, and was told it re. he afirms, and should have as little kindness ' presented deceit.
for myself as for any body in the world. HiI should have been glad to have examined therto I always imagined that kind and bene. the bearts of several of my acquaintances volent propensions were the original growth
of the heart of man, and; however checked the earth is opposed to its annual; or its moand overtopped by count i inclinations that tion round its own centre, which inight be ime have since Iprung up within us, have fill some proved as an illustration of self love, to that: force in the worst of tempers, and a confi. which whirls it about the common centre of the. terable influence on the best. And, methinks, world, answering to universal benevolence. Ís. it is a fair step towards the proof of this, that the force of self-love abated, or its interest prethe most beneficent of all beings is he who judiced by benevolence ? So far from it, that. hath an absolute fulnefs of perfection in him- benevolence, though a distinct principle, is ex. relf, who gave antistance to the universe, and tremely serviceable to self-love, and then doth to cannot be supposed to want that which he most tervice when it is leaft designed. communicated, without diminishing from the But to defcend from reason to matter of fact, plenitude of his own power and happiness. the pity which arises on fight of perfons in dirThe philosophers before-mentioned have indeed tress, and the satisfaction of mind a hich is the done all that in tliem lay to invalidate this consequence of having removed them into a argument ; for, placing the gods in a fate of happier nate, are instead of a thousand arguthe most elevated blessedness, they describe them ments to prove such a thing as a difinterested as selfish as we poor miserable mortals can be, benevolence. Did pity proceed from a refieeti. and shut them out from all concerns for inan- on we make upon our liableness to the same kind, upon the score of their having no need ill accidents'we see befal others, it were nothir:g of us.
But if he that fitisth in the heavens to the present purpose; but this is affigning an wants not us, we stand in continual need of artificial cause of a natural passion, and can by him; and surely, next to the survey of the im- no means be admitted as a tolerable account of mense treasures of his own mind, the most it, because children and persons most thoughtexalted pleasure he receives is from beholding less about their own condition, and incapable millions of creitures lately. drawn out of the of entering into the prospects of futurity, feel gulph of non-existence, rejoicing in the vari- the most violent touches of compassion. And ous degrees of being and happiness imparced to then as to that charming detight which imme. them. And as this is the true, the glorious diately follows the giving joy to another, or recharacter of the Deity, so in forming a reason- lieving his forrow, and is, when the objects are ahle creature he would not, if possible, suffer numerous, and the kindness of importance, his image to pass out of his hands unadorned really inexpressible; what can this be owing ta with a resemblance of himself in this most but consciousness of a man's having done fome. lovely part of his nature For what compla- thing praise. worthy, and expressive of a great cency could a mind, whose love is as unbound. soul? Whereas, if in all this he only facrificed ed as his knowledge, have in a work fo, unlike to vanity and self-love, as there would be no. himself; a creature that should be capable of thing brave in actions that make the most thin. knowing and conversing with a vast circle of ing appearance, to nature would not have reobjects, and love none but, himself. What warded them with this divine pleasure ; nor proportion would there be between the head could the commendations, which a perfun re. and the heart of such a creature, its affections, ceives for benefits done upon selfish views, be and its understanding ? Or could a society of at all imore satisfactory, than when he is ap Such creatures, with no other bottom but self- plauded for what he doth without defign; bea love on which to maintain a commerce, ever cause in both cases the ends of seif-love ara fourish ? Reason, it is certain, would oblige equally answered. The conscience of approva
every man to pursue the general happiness; as ing one's self a benefactor to mankind is the the means to procure and establish liis own; noblest recompense for being so; doubtless it and yet, , if, besides this consideration, there is, and the most interested cannot propose any were not a natural instinct, prompting men thing so much to their own advantage; not. 10 detire the welfare and satisfaction of others; withstanding which, the inclination is neverself-love, in defiance of the admonitions of theless unselfish. The pleasure which attends, reason, would quickly run all things into a state 'zhet gratisičation of our hunger and thirst, is of war and confufion. As nearly interested as not the cause of these appetites; they are preshe foul is in the fate of the body, our provi. vious to any such prospect; and fo likewise iş
dent Creator faw. it necessary, by the conftant the defire of doing good; with this difference, return of hunger and thirit, those importunate that being feated in the intellectual part, this appetites, to put it in mind of its charge; lart, though antecedent to reason may yet be ime knowing that if we thould eat and drink no proved and regulated by it, and, I will adid, is oftner than cold abițracted speculation should no otherwise a virtue than as it is fo. Thus put us upon these, exercises, and then leave it have I contended for the dignity of that nature to reason to prescribe the quantity, we should I have the honour to partake of, and, after all foon refine ourselves out of this bodily life. the evidence produced, I think I have a right And, indeed, it is obvious to remark, that we to conclade, against the motto of this paper, follow nothing heartily unless carried to it by that there is such a thing as generosity in the Inclinations which anticipate our reason, and, world. Though if I were under a miftake in like a bias, draw the mind strongly cowards it. tlạis, I should fay as Cicero in relation to the In order, therefore, to establish a perpetual in- immortality of the foul, I willingly err, and tercourse of benehts amongst mankind, their thould believe it very much for the interest of Maker would not fail to give them this, generous mankind to lie under the same delusion. Forex prepoffeffion of berevolence, if, as I have said, the contrary notion naturally tends to dispirit te were impoffable. And from whence can we the mind, and finks it into a meannesa fatal go about to argue its impolfibility? Is it incon- to the God-like zeal of doing good: as on the üstent with relf love? Are their motions con- other hand, it teaches people to be ungrateful, wary? No more than the diurnal l'Ofation of by poflelling them with a persuafica concerning
sheir benefactors, that they have no regard to "on mount Ida, which however he dunst not do them in the benefits they bestow. Now her until he had obtained leave from Cybele, to that banishes gratitude from among men, by fo whom it was dedicated. The goddess could doing stops the Atream of beneficence. For not but think herself obliged to protect these though in conferring kirdnelles, a truly gene ships, which were made of confecrated timber, rous man doth noc aim at a return; yet he • after a very extraordinary manner, and there. looks to the qualities of the person obiiged, and fore defined Jupiter, that they might not be as nothing renders a perfon more unworthy of (obnoxious to the power of waves or winds, à benefit, than his being without all resent • Jupiter would not grant this, but promised ment of it, he will not be extremely forward « her, that as many as came safe to Italy, should to oblige such a man.
• be transformed into goddesses of the sea; which
" the poet tells us was accordingly executed. N° 589. FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 3.
“And now at length the number'd hours were
“ Perfix'd by Fate's irrevocable doom, Per fequitur scelus ille fuum: labefattaque tandem
" When the great mother of the gods was free mzibiis innumeris adduflaque furibus arbor
“ To save her ships, and hnith'd Jove's decree. Corruit
Ovid. Mér. 1. 8. ver. 774. “First, from the quarter of the morn, there The impious ax ke plies; loud strokes resound;
“ sprung "Till dragg’d with rojes, and felld with many
« A light that fign'd the heavens, and thot along: a wound,
“ Thren from a cloud, fring'd round with golden The loofen'd tree comės rushing to the ground.
" Were timbrels ard, and Berecynthian quires : "SIR,
• Andlast a voice, with more than mortal sounds, AM so great an admirer of trees, that the
“ Both hofts in arms oppos'd with equal liorror
“ wounds. . seat upon, in the country, is almost in the "O Trnjan race, your needless aid forbear; • midst of a large wood. I was obliged, much
And know my ships are iny peculiar care. s against my will, to cut down foveral crees, that
“ With greater ease the bold Rutulian may, • I might have any such thing as a walk in my
** With hiffing brands, attempt to burn tle fear • gardens; but then I have taken care to leave
“ Than fingie my facred pines. But you, my • the space, between every walk, as much a « wood as I found it. The moment you turn
« Lcos'd from your crooked anchors launch at • either to the right or left, you are in a forest, < where nature presents you with a much more
“ Exalted each a nymph: forsake the land, beautiful scene than could have been raised by
« And swim the feas, at Cybele's comniand.
“ No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to fpeak, • Instead of tulips or carnations, I can sheto " When lo, th' obedient nips their haulsons you oaks in my gardens of four hundred year's
** break; • standing, and a knot of elms that might melter And ftrange to tell, like dolphins in the main, • a troop of horse from the rain.
“ They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring It is not without the utmost indignation,
again: that I observe several prodigal young heirs in “As many beauteous maids the billows weep, ! the neighbourhood, felling down the most glo
6 As rode before tall vefsels on the deep, • rious monuments of their ancestors industry,
“. Dryden's Virg." " and ruining, in a day, the product of ages.
"I am mightily pleafed with your discourse • The common opinion concerning the nymphs, upon planting, which put me upon looking
I wdrom the ancients called Hamadryads, is more ' into my books to give you some account of the
"to che honour of trees than any thing yet men( veneration the ancienrs had for trees. I here tioned. '* It was thought the fate of thefe ' is an old tradition, that Abraham planted a nympiis had to "near a dependence on fante
cypress; a pine, and a ceclar, and that these three wees, more efpecially oak's, that they livet 'incorporated into one tree, which was cut down and died together. For this reason they were • for the building of die temple of Solomnon. extremely grateful to Puch perfons who pred
• Ifidorus, who lived in the reign of Constan ferved those trees with whieh their being sub, • tius, affures us, that he faw, even in his time, lifted. Apollonius tells us a very remarkable o that famous oak in the plains of Mamré, un story to this purpose, with which I thall COM
der which Abrahain is reported to have dwelt, " 'clode ny letter. and adds, that the peo le looked upon it with A certai man, called Rhæcus; obferving an a great veneration, and preserved it as a facred old oak ready to fall, and being moved with a
fort of compassion towards the tree, ordered « The heathens ftill went farther, and regard • his servants to pour in frern earth at the roots ed it as the highest picce of lacrilege to injure of it, and set it upriglit. The Hamadryad, or o certain trees which they took to be protected by nymph," who must necessarily have perithed ' some deity. The story of Erifia hon, tħe grove with the tree, appeared to him the next day, 6 at Dodona, and that at Delphi, are all instances and after having returned him her thanks, told o of this kind,
hiin, the was ready to grant whatever he found • If we consider the machine in Virgil, re. As the was extremely beautiful, Rhece • much blamed by several critics in this light, defired he might be entertained as her lover, we fhall hardly think it too violent. ·
«The Hamadryad, not much difpleafed with the 'Æneas, when he built his feet in order to * request, promised to give him a meeting, buc * fail for Italy, was obliged to cut down the grove cornmended him for fome days to abftaia from
(us, be the distance never so remote.
the embraces of all other women, adding that subject of another paper. The nature of this 6 the would send a bee to him, to let him know • eternity is utterly inconceivable by the mind o when he was to be happy. Rhæcus was, it' of man: our reason demonstrates to us that it <foems, too much addicted to gaming, and hap • has been, but at the same time can frame no • pened to be in a run of ill-luck when the faith. • idea of it, but what is big with abiurdity and o tul bee came buzzing about him; so that in. contradiction. We can have no other concepi stead of minding his kind invitation, he had tion of any duration which is part, than that
like to have killed him for his pains. The " all of it was once present; and whatever was
Hamadryad was so provoked at her own dira ronce present, is at some certain distance fronı « appointment, and the ill usage of her mellen
cannot be iger, that she deprived Rhæcus of the use of his eternity. The very notion or any duration's < limbs. However, says the story, he was not s being part, implies that it was once present, « so much a cripple, but he made a Mift to cut « for the idea of being once present, is actually · down the tree, and consequently to fell his o included in the idea of its being part, This « miftress.'
! therefore is a depth not to be founded by hu.
man understanding. We are sure that there • has been an eternity, and yet contradict oure
· selves when we measure this eternity by any N° 590. MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6.
I notion which we can frame or it.
If we go to the bottom of this matter, we Non secus ac flumen. Neque enim confiftere flumen, « Thall find that the difficulties we meet with in Nec levis bora poteft: fed ut unda impellitur unda, our conceptions of eternity proceed from this Urgeturque prior venienti, urgetque priorem, ! single reason, that we can have no other idea
Tempora fic fugiunt pariter, parsterque fequuntur ; • of any kind of duration, than that by which Et nova sunt semper. Nam quod fuit ante, relictum eft; we ourselves, and all other created beings de Fitque quod baud fuerat : momentaque cuncia no exift; which is, a successive duration made up Ovio, Met. 1. Isi ver. 179. • of past, present, and to come. There is no
othing which exifts after this manner, all the E'en times are in perpetual fux, and run,
parts of whose existence were not once actually Like rivers from their fountains, rolling on.
• prelent, and consequently may be reached by a For time, no more than streams, is at a stay; o certain number of years applied to it. We The flying hour is ever on her way:
" may afcend as high as we please, and employ And as the fountain still supplies her store,
our being to that eternity which is to come, in The wave behind impels the wave before; " adding millions of years to millions of years, Thus in successive course the minutes run,
! and we can never come up to any fountain And urge their predecessor minutes on,
• head of duration, to any beginning in çternity! Still moving, ever new : for former things
but at the same time we are sure, that whata Are laid afide, like abdicated kings;
eyer was once present does lie within the reach And ev'ry moment alters what is done,
( of numbers, though perhaps we can never be And innovates some act, till then unknown.
• able to put enougla of them together for that
Dryden. ' purpofe. We may as well say, that any thing The following discourse comes from the fame may be actually present in any part of infinite hand with the eslays upon infinitude. • space, which does not lie at a certain distance
• from us, as that any part of infinite duration E consider infinite space as an expan was once a&ually present, and does not alfo
sion without a circumference: we lie at some determined distance from us. The o consider eternity, or infinite duration, as a line distance in both cases may be immeasurable " that has neither a beginning nor an end. In • and indefinite as to our faculties, but our rea« our speculations of infinite space, we coólider son tells us that it cannot be fo.in itself. Here
that particular place in which we exist, as a ( therefore is that difficulty which human un. « kind of centre to the whole expanfion. In our derstanding is not capable of surmounting. • fpeculations of eternity, we consider the time « We are sure that something must have exifted • which is present to us as the middle, which " from eternity, and are at the same time un
divides the whole tine into two equal parts. ! able to conceive, that any thing which exists, • For this reason, many witty authors compare raccord ng to our notion of existence, can have. • the present time to an isthmus or narrow neck
o exifted from eternity. (of land, that rises in the midst of an ocean, " It is hard for a reader, who has not rolled • immeasurably, diffused on either fide of it. (this thought in his own mind, to follow in
« Philosopliy, and indeed common sense, na. • fuch an abstracted speculation ; but I have • turally throws eternity under two divisions, 6 been the longer on it, becaufe I think it is a " which we may call in English, that eternity demonstrative argument of the being and eter• which is part, and that eternity which is to • nity of God: and though there are many other « come. The learned terms of Æternitas a parte o demonstrations which lead us to this great
ante, and Æternitas a parte pof, may be more truth, I do not think we ought to lay aside any I amusing to the reader, but can have no other proofs in this matter, which the light of rea5 idea affixed to them than what is conveyed to <fon has suggested to us, especially when it is • us by those words, an eternity that is part, and fuch a one as" has been wrged by men famous
an etern ty that is to come. Each of these for their penetration and force of understande, , eternities is bounded at the one extreme, or, ining, and which appears altogether conclusive 6 other words, the former has an end, and the ( to chore who will be at the pains to examine it. « latter a beginning.
• Having thus considered that eternity which * Let us first of all consider that eternity which 6 is pait, according to the best idea we can frame • is paft, referving that which is to come for the ..of it, I thall now draw up those several articles
. on this fubje&, which are di&tated to us by being which truly and really exists. The an. • the light of reason, and which may be looked
ciene Platonic notion which was drawn from upon as the creed of a philosopher in this great • speculations of eternity, wonderfully agrees
« with this revelation which God has made of . First, It is certain that no being could have • himself. There is nothing, say they, which in * made itself; for if ro, it must have acted be • reality exists, whose existence, as we call it, s fore it was, which is a contradiction.
'is pieced up. of past, present, and to come. . Secondly, That therefore some being must • Such a fitting and successive existence is rather * have exifted from all eternity.
a shadow of existence, and fomething which is ' Thirdly, That whatever exists after the man • like it, than existence itself. - He only pro, ner of created beings, or according to any noti. • perly exists whose existence is entirely present;
ons which we have of existence, could not have " that is, in other words, who exifts in the most s existed from eternity.
• perfect manner, and in such a manner as we • Fourthly, That this eternal being must there have no idea of. « fore be the great author of nature, “the anci
"I shall conclude this speculation with one " ent of days," who being at an infinite distance
I useful inference. How can we sufficiently pro* in his perfections from all finite and created « ftrate ourselves and fall down before our Ma. * beings, exifts in a quite different manner from ker, when we consider that ineffable-goodness I them, and in a manner of which they can have ' and wisdom which contrived this existence no idea.
6 for finite natures ? What must be the over" I know that several of the schoolmen who • flowings of that good-will, which prompted would not be thought ignorant' of any thing, our Creator to adapt existence to beings, in
have pretended to explain the manner of God's whom it is necessary. Especially when we • cxistence, by telling us, that he comprehends, considet that he himself was before in the • infinite duration in every moment; that etera - complete poffeffion of existence and of hap• nity is with him a punétum fans, a fixed point; ! piness, and in the full enjoyment of eternity.
or wliich is as good sense, an infinite instant; ( What man can think of himself as called out • that nothing with reference to his existence, is and separated from nothing, of his being made
either past or to come: to which the ingenious • a conscious, a reasonable and a happy creature, • Mr. Cowley alludes in his defcription of hea. Sin Thort, of being taken in as a sharer of exist. ven,
' ence, and a kind of partner in eternity, with
rout being swallowed up in wonder, in praise, Notling is there to come, and nothing past,
in adoration! It is indeed a thought too big # But an eternal now does always latt.".
! for the mind of man, and rather to be enter* For my own part, I look upon these propo i tained in the secrecy of devotion, and in the • fitions as words that have no ideas annexed to Glence of his soul, than to be expressed by • them; and think men had better own their words. The Supreme Being has not given us
ignorance, than advance doctrines by which powers or faculties fufficient to extol and mag
they mean nothing, and which, indeed, are • nify such unutterable goudness. « lelf-contradictory. We cannor be too modest " It is however some comfort to us, that we
in our disquisitions, when we meditate on him, shall be always doing what we shall be never A who is environed with so much glory and per able to do, and that a work which cannot be • fection, who is the source of being, the foun. finished, will however be the work of an eterstain of all that existence, which we and his nity,'
whole creation derive from him. Let us there#fore with the utmost humility acknowledge, • that as some being must necessarily have e
N° 591. WEDNESDAY, SEPT: 8. $ from eternity, so this being does exist after an
incomprehensible manner, since it is impor$ fible for a being to have existed from eternity
-Tenerorum lufor, amorum, ' after our manner or notions of existence. Res
OVID. Trift. Eleg. 3. 1. 3, ver: 73• s velation confirms these natural dictates of 'rea- -Love the soft subject of his sportive muse.
fon in the accounts which it gives us of the di• vine existence, where it tells us, that he is the
Have just received a letter from a gentleman, same yesterday, to day, and for ever; that he who tells me he has observed with no small ç is the Alpba and Omega, the beginning and the concern, that my papers have of late been very sending; that a thousand years are with him as barren in relation to love; a subject which,
one day, and one day as a thousand years; by when agreeably handlert, can scarce fail of being
which, and the like expressions, we are taught, well received by both sexes. § that his existence with relation to time or du If my invention therefore should be almost ex.
ration, is infinitely different from the existence hausted on this head, he offers to serve uniter of any of his creatures, and consequently that me in the quality of a Love Casuist; for which it is impossible for us to frame any adequate place he conceives himself to be thoroughly quaconceptions of it.
lified, having made this passion his principal • In the first revelation which he makes of his study, and observed it in all its different shapes own being, he entitles himself, “I'AM that I and appearances, from the fifteenth to the forty“ AM;" and when Mofes desires to know what fifth year of his age. of name he shall give him in his embaffy to Pha- · He assures me with an air of confidence, which ? roah, he bids him say that “I AM hath sent I hope proceeds from his real abilities, that he “ you." Our great Creator, by this revelation does not doubt of giving judgment to the fatis. ļof himself, does in a manner exclude every faction of the parties concerned, on the most
thing else from a real existence, and distin- nice and intricate cafes wluch can happen in an guines himself from his creatures, as the only amour; as,