to be explained by any known qualities inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws of mechanism, but, according to the best notions of the greatest philofophers, is an immediate impreffion from the first mover, and the divine energy acting in the creatures. L

No 121. THURSDAY, JUDY 19. -Jovis omnia plena. Virg. Ecl, 3. v. 60.

A

All is full of Jove.

SI was walking this morning in the great yard belonging to my friend's countryhoufe, I was wonderfully pleased to fee the different workings of inftinct in a hen followed by a brood of ducks. The young, upon the fight of a pond, immediately ran into it; while the ftep-mother, with all imaginable anxiety, hovered about the borders of it, to call them out of an element that appeared to her fo dangerous and deftructive. As the different principle which acted in these different animals cannot be termed reafon, fo when we call it inftinct, we mean fomething we have no knowledge of.

6

To me,

as I hinted in my last paper, it seems the immediate direction of Providence, and fuch an operation of the fupreme Being, as that which determines all the portions of matter to their proper centres. A modern philofopher, quoted by Monfieur Bayle in his learned differtation on the fouls of brutes, delivers the fame opinion, though in a bolder form of words, where he fays, Deus eft 'anima brutorum,'" God himself is the foul "of brutes." Who can tell what to call that feeming fagacity in animals, which directs them to fuch food as is proper for them, and makes them naturally avoid whatever is noxious or unwholefome? Tully has obferved, that a lamb no fooner falls from its mother, but immediately and of his own accord applies itself to the teat. Dampier, in his travels, tells us, that when feamen are thrown upon any of the unknown coafts of America, they never venture upon the fruit of any tree, how tempting foever it may appear, unJefs they obferve that it is marked with the pecking of birds; but fall on without any fear or apprehenfion where the birds have been before them.

But notwithstanding animals have nothing Jike the use of reason, we find in them all the lower parts of our nature, the paffions and fenfes in their greatest strength and perfection.

And here it is worth our obfervation, that all beafts and birds of prey are wonderfully fubje&t to anger, malice, revenge, and all the other violent paffions that may animate them in fearch of their proper food; as thofe that are incapable of defending themfelves, or 'annoying others, or whofe fafety lies chiefly in their flight, are fufpious, fearful and apprehenfive of every thing they fee or hear; whilft others that are of affistance and ufe to man, have their nature foftened with fomething mild and tractable, and by that means are qualified for a domeftic life. In this cafe the paffions generally correfpond with the make of the body. We do not find the fury of a lion in fo weak and defenceless an animal as a lamb, nor the meeknefs of a lamb' in a creature fo armed for battle and affault as the lion. In the fame manner, we find that particular animals have a more or lefs exquifite sharpness and fagacity in thofe particular fenfes which moft turn to their ad

vantage, and in which their safety and welfare is the most concerned.

Nor must we here omit that great variety of arms with which nature has differently fortified the bodies of feveral kind of animals, fuch as claws, hoofs, and horns, teeth and tusks, a tail, a fting, a trunk, or a probofcis. It is likewife. obferved by naturalifts, that it must be fome hidden principle diftinct from what we call reafon, which inftructs animals in the use of these their arms, and teaches them to manage them to the best advantage; becaufe they naturally defend themselves with that part in which their ftrength lies, before the weapon be formed in it; as is remarkable in lambs, which tho' they are bred within doors, and never faw the actions of their own fpecies, pufh at thofe who approach, them with their foreheads, before the first budding of a horn appears.

I fhall add to thefe general obfervations an in-, ftance, which Mr. Locke has given us of Providence even in the imperfections of a creature which feems the meanest and most despicable in the whole animal world. "We may, fays he, "from the make of an oyfter, or cockle, con"clude, that it has not fo many nor fo quick "fenfes as a man, or several other animals: nor "if it had, would it, in that ftate and incapa

city of transferring itself from one place to "another, be bettered by them. What good. would fight and hearing do to a creature, that

cannot move itfelf to, or from the object, "wherein at a diftance it perceives good or evil ? "And would not quicknefs of fenfation be an "inconvenience to an animal that must be ftill "where chance has once placed it, and there re

ceive the afflux of colder or warmer, clean or "foul water, as it happens to come to it ?" I fhall add to this inftance out of Mr. Locke another cut of the learned Dr. More, who cites it from Cardan, in relation to another animal which Providence has left defective, but at the fame time has fhewn its wifdom in the formation of that organ in which it feems chiefly to have failed. "What is more obvious and ordi

66

But for

nary than a mole? and yet what more pal"pable argument of Providence than fhe? The "members of her body are fo exactly fitted to "her nature and manner of life; for her dwell"ing being under ground where nothing is to be "feen, nature has fo obfcurely fitted her with eyes, that naturalifts can hardly agree whe"ther the have any fight at all or no. "amends, what the is capable of for her defence "and warning of danger, fhe has very eminent"ly conferred upon her; for he is exceeding "quick of hearing. And then her short tail "and fhort legs, but broad fore-feet armed with "fharp claws, we fee by the event to what pur"pofe they are, fhe fo fwiftly working herself "under ground, and making her way fo faft in "the earth as they that behold it cannot but ad, <mire it. Her legs therefore are fhort, that the "need dig no more than will ferve the mere "thickness of her body; and her fore-feet are "broad, that she may scoop away much earth at

"been dangerous to have drawn fo long a train "behind her; for her enemy might fall upon "her rear, and fetch her out, before the had "completed or got full poffeffion of her works." I cannot forbear mentioning Mr. Boyle's remark upon this laft creature, who I remember fomewhere in his works obferves, that though the mole be not totally blind, as is commonly

An agreeable companion upon the road is as good as a coach.

Man's first care fhould be to avoid the re

particular objects. Her eye is faid to have but one humour in it, which is fuppofed to give her the idea of light, but of nothing elfe, and is fo formed that this idea is probably painful to the animal. Whenever the comes up into broad day the might be in danger of being taken, unless the were thus affected by a light ftriking upon her eye, and immediately warning her to bury herfelf in her proper element. More fight would be ufelefs to her, as none at all might be fatal.

I have only inftanced fuch animals as feem the moft imperfect works of nature; and if Providence fhews itfelf even in the blemishes of thefe creatures, how much more does it difcover itfelf in the feveral endowments which it has variously bestowed upon fuch creatures as are more or lefs finished and completed, in their several faculties, according to the condition of life in which they are pofted.

I could wifh our royal fociety would compile a body of natural hiftory, the beft that could be gathered together from books and obfervations. If the feveral writers among them took each his particular fpecies, and gave us a diftin&t account of its original, birth and education; its policies, hoftilities and alliances, with the frame, and texture of its inward and outward parts, and particularly thofe that diftinguish it from all other animals, with their peculiar aptitudes for the state of being in which Providence has placed them, it would be one of the beft fervices their Audies could do mankind, and not a little redound to the glory of the all-wife contriver.

it is true, fuch a Natural Hiftory, after all the difquifitions of the learned, would be infinitely fhort and defective. Seas and defarts hide millions of animals from our obfervation. Innumerable artifices and stratagems are acted in the howling wilderness and in the great deep, that can never come to our knowledge. Bcfides that there are infinitely more fpecies of creatures which are not to be feen without, nor indeed with the help of the finest glaffes, than of fuch as are bulky enough for the naked eye to take hold of. However, from the confideration of fuch animals as lie within the compafs of our knowledge, we might early form a conclufion of the reft, that the fame variety of wisdom and goodnefs runs through the whole creation, and puts every creature in in a condition to provide for its fafety and fubftence in its proper station.

Tully has given us an admirable sketch of natural hiftory, in his fecond book concerning the nature of the gods; and that in a ftile fo raifed by metaphors and defcriptions, that it lifts the fubject above raillery and ridicule, which frequently fall on fuch nice obfervations when they pals through the hands of an ordinary writer.

cape the cenfures of the world: If the laft interferes with the former, it ought to be intirely neglected; but otherwife there cannot be a greater fatisfaction to an honeft mind, than to fee those approbations which it gives itfelf feconded by the applaufes of the public: a man is more fure of his conduct, when the verdict which he paffes upon his own behaviour is thus warranted and confirmed by the opinion of all that know him.

My worthy friend Sir Roger is one of those who' is not only at peace within himself, but beloved and efteemed by all about him. He receives a fuitable tribute for his univerfal benevolence to mankind, in the returns of affection and goodwill, which are paid him by every one that lives within his neighbourhood. I lately met with two or three old inftances of that general respec which is fhewn to the good old knight. He would needs carry Will Wimble and myself with him to the country affizes: as we were upon the road Will Wimble joined a couple of plain men who rid before us, and converfed with them for fome time; during which my friend Sir Roger acquainted me with their characters.

The first of them, fays he, that has a spaniel by his fide, is a yeoman of about an hundred pounds a year, an honeft man: he is juft within the Game-Act, and qualified to kill a hare or pheafant; he knocks down a dinner with his gun twice or thrice a week; and by that means lives much cheaper than thofe who have not fo good an eftate as himfelf. He would be a good neighbour if he did not deftrey so many partridges: in fhort, he is a very fenfible man; fhoots flying; and has been feveral times foreman of the pettyjury.

The other that rides along with him is Tom Touchy a fellow famous for taking the law of every body. There is not one in the town where he lives that he has not fued at a quarter-feffions. The rogue had once the impudence to go to law with the widow. His head is full of cofts, damages, and ejectments; he plagued a couple of honeft gentlemen fo long for a trefpafs in breake ing one of his hedges, until he was forced to fell the ground it inclofed to defray the charges of the profecution; his father left him fourfcore pounds a year: but he has "caft" and been caft so often, that he is not now worth thirty. I fuppofe he is going upon the old bufinefs of the willow

tree.

As Sir Roger was giving me this account of Tom Touchy, Will Wimble and his two companions ftopped fhort until we came up to them, After having paid their refpects to Sir Roger, Will told him that Mr. Touchy and he must appeal to him upon a difpute that arofe between them. Will it feems had been giving his fellow, traveller an account of his angling one day in fuch a hole; when Tom Touchy, inftead of hearing out his ftory, told him that Mr. fuch a one, if he pleafed, might take the law of him for fifhing in that part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them both, upon a round trot; and after having

pauled

paufed fome time' told them, with the air of a man who would not give his judgment rafhly, that "much might be faid on both fides." They were neither of them diffatisfied with the knight's determination, because neither of them found himself in the wrong by it; upon which we made the best of our way to the affizes.

The court was fat before Sir Roger came; but notwithstanding all the juftices had taken their places upon the bench, they made room for the old knight at the head of them; who for his reputation in the country took occafion to whisper in the Judge's ear, "that he was glad his lord"fhip had fo much good weather in his circuit.' I was liftening to the proceeding of the court with much attention, and infinitely pleafed with that great appearance and folemnity which fo properly accompanies fuch a public adminiftration of our laws; when, after about an hour's fitting, I observed to my great furprise, in the midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting up to fpeak. I was in pain for him, until I found he had acquitted himself of two or three fentences, with a look of much bufinefs and great intrepidity.

Upon his first rifing, the court was hushed, and a general whifper ran among the country people that Sir Roger" was up." The fpeech he made was fo little to the purpose, that I fhall not trouble my readers with an account of it; and I believe was not fo much defigned by the knight himself to inform the court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and keep up his credit in the country.

I was highly delighted, when the court rofe, to fee the gentlemen of the country gathering about my old friend, and ftriving who fhould compliment him moft; at the fame time that the ordinary people gazed upon him at a distance, not a. little admiring his courage, that was not afraid to fpeak to the judge.

In our return home we met with a very odd accident; which I cannot forbear relating, becaufe it fhews how defirous all who know Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their efteem. When we were arrived upon the verge of his eftate, we stopped at a little inn to reft ourfelves and our horfes. The man of the houfe had it feems been formerly a fervant in the knight's family; and to do honour to his old mafter, had fome time fince, unknown to Sir Roger, put him in a fign-poft before the door; fo that the "knight's' head" had hung out upon the road about a week before he himfelf know any thing of the matter, As foon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his fervant's indifcretion proceeded wholly from affection and good-will, he only told him that he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellow feemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decifive look, that it was too great an honour for any man under a duke; but told him at the fame time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the knight's directions to add a pair of whifkers to the face, and by a little aggravation of the features to change it into the Saracen's-head. I fhould not have known this tory had not the inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing, that his hor our's head was brought back laft night with the alterations that he had ordered to be made in it.

Upon this my friend, with his ufual chearfulness, related the particulars above-mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought into the room. I could not forbear discovering greater expreffions of mirth than ordinary upon the appearance of this monftrous face, under which, notwithstanding it was made to frown and ftare in a most extraordinary manner, I could still discover a diftant refemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon feeing me laugh, defired me to tell him truly if I thought it poffible for people to know him in that difguife. I at first kept my usual filence; but upon the knight's conjuring me to

tell him whether it was not ftill more like himfelf than a Saracen, I compofed my countenance in the beft manner I could, and replied, "that "much might be faid on both fides."

Thefe feveral adventures, with the knight's behaviour in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any of my travels.

N° 123. SATURDAY, JULY 21.
Doctrina fed vim promovet infitam,
Rectique cultus pectora roborant:
Utcunque defecere mores,
Dedecoraut bene nata culpæ.

L

HOR. Od. 4. 1. 4. v. 33◄

Yet the best blood by learning is refin'd,
And virtue arms the folid mind;
Whilft vice will stain the nobleft race,
And the paternal stamp deface.

A

ΑΝΟΝ.

SI was yesterday taking the air with my friend Sir Roger, we were met by a freshcoloured ruddy young man who rid by us full fpeed, with a couple of fervants behind him. Upon my inquiry who he was, Sir Roger told me that he was a young gentleman of a confiderable eftate, who had been educated by a tender mother that lived not many miles from the place where we were. She is a very good lady, fays my friend, but took fo much care of her fon's health that he has made him good for nothing. She quickly found that reading was bad for his eyes, and that writing made his head ach. He was let loose among the woods as foon as he was able to ride on horfeback, or to carry a gun upon his fhoulder. To be brief, I found, by my friend's account of him, that he had got a great ftock of health, but nothing elfe; and that if it were a man's bufincfs only to live, there would not be a more accomplished young fellow in the whole county.

The truth of it is, fince my refiding in thefe parts I have feen and heard innumerable infances of young heirs and elder brothers, who either from their own reflecting upon the cftates they are born to, and therefore thinking all other accomplishments unneceffary, or from hearing these notions frequently inculcated to them by the flattery of their fervants and domestics, or from the fame foolish thought prevailing in those who have the care of their education, are of no manner of ufe but to keep up their families, and tranfmit their lands and houfes in a line to potterity.

This makes me often think on a story I have heard of two friends, which I thall give my reader at large, under feigned names. The moral of it may, I hope, be ufeful, though there are fome circumftances which make it rather appear like a novel than a tru. ftory. X

Eudoxua

Eudoxus and Leontine began the world with fmall eftates. They were both of them men of good fenfe and great virtue. They profecuted their ftudies together in their earlier years, and entered into fuch a friendship as lafted to the end of their lives. Eudoxus, at his firft fetting out in the world, threw himself into a court, where by his natural endowments and his acquired abilities he made his way from one poft to another, until at length he had raised a very confiderable fortune. Leontine, on the contrary, fought all opportunities of improving his mind by ftudy, converfation and travel. He was not only acquainted with all the fciences, but with the most eminent profeffors of them throughout Europe. He knew perfectly well the interefts of its princes, with the cuftoms and fashions of their courts, and could fcarce meet with the name of an extraordinary person in the Gazette whom he had not either talked to or feen. In fhort, he had fo well mixed and digefted his knowledge of men and books, that he made one of the most accomplished perfons of his age. During the whole course of his ftudies and travels he kept up a punctual correspondence with Eudoxus, who often made himself acceptable to the principal men about court by the intelligence which he received from Leontine. When they were both turned of forty, an age in which, according to Mr. Cowley, "there is no dallying with life," they determined, purfuant to the refolution they had taken in the beginning of their lives, to retire, and pass the remainder of their days in the country. In order to this, they both of them married much about the fame time. Leontine, with his own and his wife's fortune, bought a farm of three hundred a year, which lay within the neighbourhood of his friend Eudoxus, who had purchased an eftate of as many thousands. They were both of them fathers about the fame time, Eudoxus having a fon born to him, and Leontine a daughter; but to the unspeakable grief of the latter, his young wife, in whom all his happinefs was wrapt up, died in a few days after the birth of her daughter. His affliction would have been infupportable, had not he been comforted by the daily vifits and converfations of his friend. As they were one day talking together with their ufual intimacy, Leontine, confidering how incapable he was of giving his daughter a proper education in his own houfe, and Eudoxus reflecting on the ordinary behaviour of a fon who knows himself to be the heir of a great eftate, they both agreed upon an exchange of children, namely, that the boy fhould be bred up with Leontine as his fon, and that the girl hould live with Eudoxus as his daughter, until they were each of them arrived at years of difcrction. The wife of Eudoxus, knowing that her fon could not be fo advantageously brought up as under the care of Leontine, and confidering at the fame time that he would be perpetually under her own eye, was by degrees prevailed up on to fall in with the project. She therefore took Leonilla, for that was the name of the girl, and educated her as her own daughter, The two friends on each fide had wrought themfelves to fuch an habitual tenderness for the children who were under their direction, that each of them had the real paffion of a father, where the title was but imaginary. Florio, the name of the young heir that lived with Leontine, though he had all the duty and affcction imaginable for his fuppofed

country.

I should have told my reader, that whilst Florio lived at the houfe of his fofter-father he was always an acceptable guest in the family of Eudoxus, where he became acquainted with Leonilla from her infancy. His acquaintance with her by degrees grew into love, which in a mind trained up in all the fentiments of honour and virtue became a very uneafy paffion. He despaired of gaining an heiress of so great a fortune, and would rather have died than attempted it by any indirect methods. Leonilla, who was a woman of the greatest beauty, joined with the greatest modefty, entertained at the fame time a fecret paffion for Florio, but conducted herself with fo much prudence that the never gave him the leaft intimation of it. Florio was now engaged in all thofe arts and improvements that are proper to raife a man's private fortune, and give him a figure in his country, but fecretly tormented with that paffion which burns with the greateft fury in a virtuous and noble heart, when he received a fudden fummons from Leontine to repair to him in the country the next day. For it feems Eudoxus was fo filled with the report of his fon's reputation, that he could no longer with-hold making himself known to him. The morning after his arrival at the house of his fuppofed father, Leontine told him that Eudoxus had fome thing of great importance to communicate to him; upon which the good man embraced him, and wept. Florio was no fooner arrived at the great house that stood in his neighbourhood, but Eudoxus took him by the hand, after the first falutes were over, and conducted him into his clofet. He there opened to him the whole fecret of his parentage and education, concluding after this manner: "I have no other way left of ac"knowledging my gratitude to Leontine, than "by marrying you to his daughter. He fhal! "not lofe the pleasure of being your father by "the difcovery I have made to you. Leonilla too

fhall be ftill my daughter; her filial piety, "though mifplaced, has been fo exemplary that it deferves the greatest reward I can confer 46 upen

કેંદ

"room.

upon it. You shall have the pleasure of seeing a great eftate fall to you, which you would have loft the relish of had you known yourself "born to it. Continue only to deferve it in the "fame manner you did before you were poffeffed "of it. I have left your mother in the next Her heart yearns towards you. She is "making the fame difcoveries to Leonilla which "I have made to yourself," Florio was so overwhelmed with this profufion of happiness, that he was not able to make a reply, but threw himfelf down at his father's feet, and amidít a flood of tears, kiffed and embraced his knees, asking his blefling, and expreffing in dumb fhow thofe fentiments of love, duty, and gratitude that were too big for utterance. To conclude, the happy pair were married, and half Eudoxus's eftate fettled upon them. Leontine and Eudoxus paffed the remainder of their lives together; and received in the dutiful and affectionate behaviour of Florio and Leonilla the just recompence, as well as the natural effects, of that care which they had bestowed upon them in their educaL

tion.

N° 124. MONDAY, JULY 23.
Μεγα Βιβλιον, μέγα κακον.
A great book is a great evil.

A

Man who publishes his works ir a volume, has an infinite advantage over one who communicates his writings to the world in loofe tracts and fingle pieces. We do not expect to meet with any thing in a bulky volume, until after fome heavy preamble, and feveral words of courfe, to prepare the reader for what follows: nay, authors have established it as a kind of rule, that a man ought to be dull fometimes; as the moft fevere reader makes allowances for many refts and nodding-places in a voluminous writer. This gave occafion to the famous Greek proverb which I have chofen for my motto, "that a great book is a great evil.

On the contrary, thofe who publish their thoughts in diftin&t theets, and as it were by piece-meal, have none of thefe advantages. We muft immediately fall into our fubject, and treat every part of it in a lively manner, or our papers are thrown by as dull and infipid; our matter muft lie clofe together, and either be wholly new in itself, or in the turn it receives from our expreffions. Were the books of our beft authors thus to be retailed to the public, and every page fubmitted to the taste of forty or fifty thousand readers, I am afraid we thould complain of many flat expreffions, trivial obfervations, beaten topics, and common thoughts, which go off very well in the lump. At the fame time, notwith ftanding fome papers may be made up of broken hints and irregular sketches, it is often expected that every fheet fhould be a kind of treatife, and make out in thought what it wants in bulk: that a point of humour should be worked up in all its parts; and a fubject touched upon in its most effential articles, without the repetitions, tautologies and enlargements that are indulged to longer labours. The ordinary writers of morality prefcribe to their readers after the Galenic way; their medicines are made up in large quantities. An effay-writer must practise in the chymical method, and give the virtue of a full draught in a

few drops. Were all books reduced thus to their quinteffence, many a bulky author would make his appearance in a penny-paper: there would be scarce such a thing in nature as a folio: the works of an age would be contained on a few fhelves; not to mention millions of volumes, that would be utterly annihilated.

I cannot think that the difficulty of furnishing out feparate papers of this nature, has hindered authors from communicating their thoughts to the world after fuch a manner: though I must confefs I am amazed that the prefs fhould be only made ufe of in this way by news-writers, and the zealots of parties; as if it were not more advantageous to mankind, to be inftructed in wisdom and virtue, than in politics; and to be made good fathers, hufbands, and fons, than counfellors and great men of antiquity, who took so much pains in order to inftru&t mankind, and leave the world wifer and better than they found it; had they, I say, been poffeffed of the art of printing, there is no queftion but they would have made fuch an advantage of it, in dealing out their lectures to the public. Our common prints would be of great ufe were they thus calculated to diffuse good fenfe through the bulk of a people, to clear up their understandings, animate their minds with virtue, diffipate the forrows of a heavy heart, or unbend the mind from its more fevere employments with innocent amufements. When knowledge, inftead of being bound up in books, and kept in libraries and retirements, is thus obtruded upon the public; when it is canvaffed in every affembly, and expofed upon every table; I cannot forbear reflecting upon that paffage in the Proverbs "Wisdom crieth without, fhe uttereth her voice "in the streets; fhe crieth in the chief place of "concourfe, in the openings of the gates. In "the city fhe uttereth her words, faying, how "long, ye fimple ones will ye love fimplicity? " and the fcorners delight in their fcorning? and "fools hate knowledge?"

The many letters which come to me from perfons of the beft fenfe in both fexes, for I may pronounce their characters from their way of writing, do not a little encourage me in the profecution of this my undertaking: befides that my bookfeller tells me, the demand for these my papers increases daily. It is at his inftance that I fhall continue my rural fpeculations to the end of this month; feveral having made up feparate fets of them, as they have done before of those relating to wit, to operas, to points of morality, or fubjects of humour.

I am not at all mortified, when fometimes I fee my works thrown afide by men of no tafte nor learning. There is a kind of heavinefs and ignorance that hangs upon the minds of ordinary men, which is too thick for knowledge to break through. Their fouls are not to be enlightened,

-Nox atra cavâ circumvolat umbrâ.

Virg. Æn. 2. v. 360.. Dark night surrounds them with her hollow fhade.

To thefe I must apply the fable of the mole, that after having confulted many oculifts for the bettering of his fight, was at laft provided with a good pair of fpectacles; but upon his endeavouring to make ufe of them, his mother told him very prudently, "that fpectacles, though "they might help the eye of a man, could be of "no ufe to a mole," It is not therefore for the %2

benefit