are but too apt to diffuse his infamy as far as their own reputation; and perhaps triumph in secret, that they have it in their power to make his name the scoff and derision of after-ages. This, I say, they are too apt to do. For sometimes they resent the exposing of their little af fectations or slips in writing, as much as wounds upon their honour. The first are trifles they should laugh away, but the latter deserves their utmost severity. rational creation, in proportion to their removal | To be even therefore with their enemy, they from savageness and barbarism. Chastity and truth are the only due returns that they can make for this generous disposition in the nobler sex. For beauty is so far from satisfying us of itself, that whenever we think that it is communicated to others, we behold it with regret and disdain. Whoever therefore robs a woman of her reputation, despoils a poor defenceless creature of all that makes her valuable, turns her beauty into loathsomeness, and leaves her friendless, abandoned, and undone. There are I must confess a warmth against the buffoonmany tempers so soft that the least calumnyeries mentioned in the beginning of this paper, gives them pains they are not able to bear. as they have so many circumstances to aggraThey give themselves up to strange fears, vate their guilt. A license for a man to stand gloomy reflections, and deep melancholy. How up in the schools of the prophets, in a grave savage must he be, who can sacrifice the quiet decent habit, and audaciously vent his obloquies of such a mind to a transient burst of mirth! against the doctors of our church, and directors Let him who wantonly sports away the peace of our young nobility, gentry and clergy, in of a poor lady consider what discord he sows in their hearing and before their eyes: to throw families; how often he wrings the heart of a calumnies upon poor defenceless women, and hoary parent; how often he rouses the fury of a offend their ears with nauseous ribaldry, and jealous husband; how he extorts from the name their names at length in a public theatre, abused woman curses, perhaps not unheard, when a queen is upon the throne: such a li and poured out in the bitterness of her soul! cense as this never yet gained ground in our What weapons hath she wherewith to repel playhouses; and I hope will not need a law to such an outrage! How shall she oppose her forbid it. Were I to advise in this matter, I softness and imbecility to the hardened fore- should represent to the orator how noble a field head of a coward who hath trampled upon there lay before him for panegyric; what a weakness that could not resist him! to a buf- happy opportunity he had of doing justice to foon, who hath slandered innocence to raise the the great men who once were of that famous laughter of fools! who hath scattered fire- body, or now shine forth in it; nor should I nebrands, arrows, and deaths, and said, am I not glect to insinuate the advantages he might proin sport!' pose by gaining their friendship, whose worth, Irreverent reflections upon men of learning by a contrary treatment, he will be imagined and note, if their character be sacred, do great either not to know, or to envy. This might res disservice to religion, and beuay a vile mind cue the name from scandal; and if, as it ought, in the author. I have therefore always thought this performance turned solely upon matters of with indignation upon that accuser of the bre- wit and learning, it might have the honour of thren,' the famous antiquary,* whose employ-being one of the first productions of the magni ment it was for several years, to rake up all the ill-natured stories that had ever been fastened upon celebrated men, and transmit them to posterity with cruel industry, and malicious joy. Though the good men, ill-used, may out of a meek and Christian disposition, so far subdue their natural resentment, as to neglect and forgive; yet the inventors of such calumnies will find generous persons, whose bravery of mind makes them think themselves proper instruments to chastise such insolence. And I have in my time, more than once known the discipline of the blanket administered to the offenders, and all their slanders answered by that kind of syllogism which the ancient Romans called the argumentum bacillinum. ficent printing house just erected at Oxford. This paper is written with a design to make my journey to Oxford agreeable to me, where I design to be at the Public Act. If my advice is neglected, I shall not scruple to insert in the Guardian whatever the men of letters and ge nius transmit to me, in their own vindication; and I hereby promise that I myself will draw my pen in defence of all injured women. No. 73.] Thursday, June 4, 1713. In amore hæc insunt omnia. Ter. Eun. Act i. Sc. 1. All these things are inseparable from love. I have less compassion for men of sprightly parts and genius, whose characters are played upon, because they have it in their power to Ir is a matter of great concern that there revenge themselves tenfold. But I think of all come so many letters to me, wherein I see pa the classes of mankind, they are the most par-rents make love for their children, and, withou donable if they pay the slanderer in his own coin. For their names being already blazed abroad in the world, the least blot thrown upon them is displayed far and wide; and they have this sad privilege above the men in obscurity, that the dishonour travels as far as their fame. * Anthony Wood, author of the Athenæ Oxoniensis, a valuable collection of the lives of writers and bishops educated at Oxford, 2 vols. folio, 1691. any manner of regard to the season of life, and the respective interests of their progeny, judg of their future happiness by the rules of ordi nary commerce. When a man falls in love in some families, they use him as if his land wa mortgaged to them, and he cannot discharg himself, but by really making it the same thin in an unreasonable settlement, or foregoing what is dearer to him than his estate itself. These extortioners are of all others the most | vers, to my infinite contentment. Ah! Mr. Ironcruel, and the sharks, who prey upon the inad-side, could you but see in a calm evening the vertency of young heirs, are more pardonable profusion of ease and tenderness betwixt us! than those who trespass upon the good opinion The murmuring river that glides gently by, the of those who treat with them upon the foot of cooing turtles in the neighbouring groves, are choice and respect. The following letters may harsh compared to her more tuneful voice. The place in the reader's view uneasiness of this happy pair, first joined in Paradise, not more sort, which may perhaps be useful to some un- enamoured walked! more sweetly loved! But der the circumstances mentioned by my cor- alas! what is all this! an imaginary joy, in respondents. which we trifle away our precious time, without coming together for ever. That must depend upon the old gentleman, who sees I cannot live without his daughter, and knows I cannot, upon his terms, be ever happy with her. I beg of you to send for us all up to town together, that we may be heard before you (for we all agree in a deference to your judgment) upon these heads, Whether the authority of a father should not accommodate itself to the liberty of a free-born English woman? 'Whether all parents are not obliged to provide for the just passions of their children, when grown up, as well as food and raiment in their tender years? 'To Nestor Ironside, Esquire. 'From a certain town in Cumberland, May 21. 'VENERABLE SIR,-It is impossible to express the universal satisfaction your precautions give in a country so far north as ours; and indeed it were impertinent to expatiate in a case that is by no means particular to ourselves, all mankind who wish well to one another, being equally concerned in their success. However, as all na- Whether, if you think fit to take the old tions have not the genius, and each particular gentleman into your care, the daughter may man has his different views and taste, we north-not choose her lover for her Guardian? erns cannot but acknowledge our obligations in a more especial manner, for your matrimonial precautions, which we more immediately are interested in. Our climate has ever been recorded as friendly to the continuation of our kind; and the ancient histories are not more full of their Goths and Vandals, that in swarms overspread all Europe, than modern story of its Yorkshire hostlers and attorneys, who are remarkably eminent and beneficial in every market-town, and most inns of this kingdom. I shall not here presume to enter, with the ancient sages, into a particular reasoning upon the case, as whether it proceeds from the cold temper of the air, or the particular constitutions of the persons, or both; from the fashionable want of artifice in the women, and their entire satisfaction in one conquest only, or the happy ignorance in the men, of those southern vices which effeminate mankind. ble 'From this encomium, I do not question but by this time you infer me happy already in the legal possession of some fair one, or in a probaway of being so. But alas! neither is my case, and from the cold damp which this minute seizes upon my heart, I presage never will. What shall I do? To complain here is to talk to winds, or mortals as regardless as they. The tempestuous storms in the neighbouring mountains, are not more relentless, or the crags more deaf, than the old gentleman is to my sighs and prayers. The lovely Pastorella indeed hears and gently sighs, but it is only to increase my tortures; she is too dutiful to disobey a father; and I neither able, nor forward, to receive her by an act of disobedience. 'These and such points being unsettled in the world, are cause of great distraction, and it would be worthy your great age and experience, to consider them distinctly for the benefit of domestic life. All which, most venerable Nestor, is humbly submitted by all your northern friends, as well as your most obedient, and devoted humble servant, PASTOR FIDO.' 'MR. IRONSIDE,—We who subscribe this, are man and wife, and have been so these fifteen years: but you must know we have quarrelled twice a day ever since we came together, and at the same time have a very tender regard for one another. We observe this habitual disputation has an ill effect upon our children, and they lose their respect towards us from this jangling of ours. We lately entered into an agreement, that from that time forward, when either should fall into passion, the party angry should go into another room, and write a note to the other by one of the children, and the person writ to, right or wrong, beg pardon; because the writing to avoid passion, is in itself an act of kindness. This little method, with the smiles of the messengers, and other nameless incidents in the management of this correspondence with the next room, has produced inexpressible delight, made our children and servants cheerful under our care and protection, and made us ourselves sensible of a thousand good qualities we now see in each other, 'As to myself, my humour, until this acci- which could not before shine out, because of dent to ruffle it, has ever been gay and thought-our mutual impatience. Your humble servants, less, perpetually toying amongst the women, dancing briskly, and singing softly. For I take it, more men miscarry amongst them for hav- 'P. S. Since the above, my wife has gone out ing too much than too little understanding. of the room, and writes word by Billy, that she Pastorella seems willing to relieve me from my would have in the above letter, the words "janfrights; and by her constant carriage, by ad- gling of ours," changed into the words, "these mitting my visits at all hours, has convinced all our frequent debates." I allow of the amend. hereabouts of my happiness with her, and occa- ment, and desire you would understand accordsioned a total defection amongst her former lo-ingly, that we never jangled, but went into fre 'PHILIP AND MARY. quent debates, which were always held in a com- | speech, and true sublime, compare with any of mittee of the whole house.' ་ 'To Nestor Ironside, Esquire. 'SAGACIOUS SIR,—We married men reckon ourselves under your ward, as well as those who live in a less regular condition. You must know, I have a wife, who is one of those good women who are never very angry, or very much pleased. My dear is rather inclined to the former, and will walk about in soliloquy, dropping sentences to herself of management, saying" she will say nothing, but she knows when her head is laid what-" and the rest of that kind of half expressions. I am never inquisitive to know what is her grievance, because I know it is only constitution. I call her by the kind appellation of My Gentle Murmur, and I am so used to hear her, that I believe I could not sleep without it. It would not be amiss if you communicated this to the public, that many who think their wives angry, may know they are only not pleased, and that very many come into this world, and go out of it at a very good old age, without having ever been much transported with joy or grief in their whole lives. Your humble servant, 'ARTHUR SMOOTH.' ⚫MOST VENERABLE NESTOR,-I am now three and twenty, and in the utmost perplexity how to behave myself towards a gentleman whom my father has admitted to visit me as a lover. I plainly perceive my father designs to take advantage of his passion towards me, and require terms of him which will make him fly off. I have orders to be cold to him in all my behaviour; but if you insert this letter in the Guardian, he will know that distance is constrained. I love him better than life, am satisfied with the offer he has made, and desire him to stick to it, that he may not hereafter think he has purchased me too dear. My mother knows I love him, so that my father must comply. Your thankful ward, SUSANNA the choicest writings of the ancient fathers or doctors of the church, who lived nearest to the apostles' times. The subject is no less than that of God himself; and the design, besides doing some honour to our own nation, is to show by a fresh example, to what a height and strength of thought a person, who appears not to be by nature endued with the quickest parts, may arrive, through a sincere and steady prac tice of the Christian religion; I mean, as taught and administered in the church of England: which will, at the same time, prove that the force of spiritual assistance is not at all abated by length of time, or the iniquity of mankind; but that if men were not wanting to themselves, and (as our excellent author speaks) could but be persuaded to conform to our church's rules, they might still live as the primitive Christians did, and come short of none of those eminent saints for virtue and holiness. The author from whom this collection is made, is bishop Beve ridge, vol. ii. serm. 1. PHILOTHEUS.' In treating upon that passage in the book of Exodus, where Moses being ordered to lead the children of Israel out of Egypt, he asked God what name he should mention him by to that people, in order to dispose them to obey him; and God answered, "I Am that I Am ;" and bade him tell them, "I Am hath sent me unto you;" the admirable author thus discourses: God having been pleased to reveal himself to us under this name or title, "I Am that I Am," he thereby suggests to us, that he would not have us apprehend of him, as of any particular or limited being, but as a being in general, or the Being of all beings; who giveth being to, and therefore exercises authority over, all things in the world. He did not answer Moses, "I am the great, the living, the true, the everlasting God," he did not say, "I am the almighty cre ator, preserver, and governor, of the whole world," but "I Am that I Am :" intimating, that if Moses desired such a name of God as might fully describe his nature as in itself, that is a thing impossible, there being no words to be found in any language, whereby to express the glory of an infinite being, especially so as that finite creatures should be able fully to conceive it. Yet, however, in these words he is pleased to acquaint us what kind of thoughts he would have us entertain of him, insomuch, that could we but rightly apprehend what is couched under, and intended by them, we should doubtless have as high and true conceptions of God as it is possible for creatures to have.'- -The answer given suggests farther to us these following notions of the most high God. First, that he is one being, existing in and of himself: his unity is implied in that he saith, " I;" his existence in that he saith, "I Am ;" his existence in and of himself, in that he saith, "I Am that I Am," that is, "I am in and of myself," not receiving any thing from, nor depending upon any other. -The same expression implies, that as God is only one, so that he is a most pure and simple being; for here, we see, he admits nothing into the manifestation of himself but pure essence, saying, "I Am that I Am," that is, being itself, | Justice and Mercy. I am Grace and Goodness, without any mixture or composition. And there- I am Glory, Beauty, Holiness, Eminency, Sufore we must not conceive of God, as made up pereminency, Perfection, All-sufficiency, Eterof several parts, or faculties, or ingredients, but nity, Jehovah, I Am. Whatsoever is suitable only as one who "is that he is," and whatsoever to their nature, or convenient for them in their is in him is himself: And although we read of several conditions, that I am. Whatsoever is several properties attributed to him in scripture, amiable in itself, or desirable unto them, that I as wisdom, goodness, justice, &c. we must not am. Whatsoever is pure and holy; whatsoever apprehend them to be several powers, habits, or is great or pleasant; whatsoever is good or qualities, as they are in us; for as they are in needful to make men happy; that I am." So God, they are neither distinguished from one that, in short, God here represents himself unto another, nor from his nature or essence, in whom us as a universal good, and leaves us to make they are said to be. In whom, I say, they are the application of it to ourselves, according to said to be for to speak properly, they are not our several wants, capacities, and desires, by in him, but are his very essence, or nature it- saying only in general, "I Am.” self; which acting severally upon several objects, seems to us to act from several properties or perfections in him; whereas, all the difference is only in our different apprehensions of the same thing. God in himself is a most simple and pure act, and therefore cannot have any thing in him, but what is that most simple and pure act itself; which seeing it bringeth upon every creature what it deserves, we conceive of it as of several divine perfections in the same Almighty Being. Whereas God, whose understanding is infinite as himself, doth not apprehend himself under the distinct notions of wisdom, or goodness, or justice, or the like, but only as Jehovah: And therefore, in this place, he doth not say, "I am wise, or just, or good," but simply, "I Am that I Am."" Having thus offered at something towards the explication of the first of these mysterious sayings in the answer God made to Moses, when he designed to encourage him to lead his people out of Egypt, he proceeds to consider the other, whereby God calls himself absolutely "I Am." Concerning which he takes notice, that though "I Am" be commonly a verb of the first person, yet it is here used as a noun substantive, or proper name, and is the nominative case to another verb of the third person in these words, “I Am hath sent me unto you." A strange expression! But when God speaks of himself, he cannot be confined to grammarrules, being infinitely above and beyond the reach of all languages in the world. And therefore, it is no wonder that when he would reveal himself, he goes out of our common way of speaking one to another, and expresseth himself in a way peculiar to himself, and such as is suitable and proper to his own nature and glory. Hence, therefore, as when he speaks of himself and his own eternal essence, he saith, “I Am that I Am ;" so when he speaks of himself, with reference to his creatures, and especially to his people, he saith, "I Am." He doth not say, "I am their light, their life, their guide, their strength, or tower," but only "I Am" He sets as it were his hand to a blank, that his people may write under it what they please that is good for them. As if he should say, "Are they weak? I am Strength. Are they poor? I am Riches. Are they in trouble? I am Comfort. Are they sick? I am Health. Are they dying? I am Life. Have they nothing? I am All Things. I am Wisdom and Power, I am Again, page 27, he thus discourses: 'There is more solid joy and comfort, more real delight and satisfaction of mind, in one single thought of God, rightly formed, than all the riches, and honours, and pleasures of this world, put them all together, are able to afford.-Let us then call in all our scattered thoughts from all things here below, and raise them up and unite them all to the most high God; apprehending him under the idea, image, or likeness of any thing else, but as infinitely greater, and higher, and better than all things; as one existing in and of himself, and giving essence and existence to all things in the world besides himself; as one so pure and simple that there is nothing in him but himself, but essence and being itself; as one so infinite and omnipotent, that wheresoever any thing else is in the whole world, there he is, and beyond the world, where nothing else is, there all things are, because he is there, as one so wise, so knowing, so omniscient, that he at this very moment, and always, sees what all the angels are doing in heaven; what all the fowls are doing in the air; what all the fishes are doing in the waters; what all the devils are doing in hell; what all the men and beasts, and the very insects, are doing upon earth; as one so powerful and omnipotent, that he can do whatsoever he will, only by willing it should be done; as one so great, so good, so glorious, so immutable, so transcendent, so infinite, so incomprehensible, so eternal, what shall I say? so Jehovah, that the more we think of him, the more we admire him, the more we adore him, the more we love him, the more we may and ought; our highest conceptions of him being as much beneath him, as our greatest services come short of what we owe him. 'Seeing therefore we cannot think of God so highly as he is, let us think of him as highly as we can: and for that end let us get above ourselves, and above the world, and raise up our thoughts higher and higher, and higher still, and when we have got them up as high as possibly we can, let us apprehend a Being infinitely higher than the highest of them; and then finding ourselves at a loss, amazed, confounded at such an infinite height of infinite perfections, let us fall down in humble and hearty desires to be freed from those dark prisons wherein we are now immured, that we may take our flight into eternity, and there (through the merits of our blessed Saviour) see this infinite Being face to face, and enjoy him for ever.' THIS paper shall consist of extracts from two great divines, but of very different genius. The one is to be admired for convincing the understanding, the other for inflaming the heart. The former urges us in this plain and forcible manner to an inquiry into religion, and practising its precepts. Suppose the world began some time to be; it must either be made by counsel and design, that is, produced by some being that knew what it did, that did contrive it and frame it as it is; which it is easy to conceive, a being that is infinitely good, and wise, and powerful, might do: but this is to own a God. Or else the matter of it being supposed to have been always, and in continual motion and tumult, it at last happened to fall into this order, and the parts of matter, after various agitations, were at length entangled and knit together in this order, in which we see the world to be. But can any man think this reasonable to imagine, that in the infinite variety which is in the world, all things should happen by chance, as well, and as orderly, as the greatest wisdom could have contrived them? Whoever can believe this, must do it with his will, and not with his understanding. Supposing the reasons for and against the principles of religion were equal, yet the danger and hazard is so unequal, as would sway a prudent man to the affirmative. Suppose a man believe there is no God, nor life after this, and suppose he be in the right, but not certain that he is (for that I am sure in this case is impossible); all the advantage he hath by this opinion relates only to this world and this present time; for he cannot be the better for it when he is not. Now what advantage will it be to him in this life? He shall have the more liberty to do what he pleaseth; that is, it furnisheth him with a stronger temptation to be intemperate, and lustful, and unjust, that is, to do those things which prejudice his body, and his health, which cloud his reason, and darken his understanding, which will make him enemies in the world, will bring him into danger. So that it is no advantage to any man to be vicious; and yet this is the greatest use that is made of atheistical principles; to comfort men in their vicious courses. But if thou hast a mind to be virtuous, and temperate, and just, the belief of the principles of religion will be no obstacle, but a furtherance to thee in this course. All the advantage a man can hope for, by disbelieving the principles of religion, is to escape trouble and persecution in this world, which may happen to him upon account of religion. But supposing there be a God, and a life after this; then what a vast difference is there of the consequences of these opinions! As much as between finite and infinite, time and eternity. To persuade men to believe the scriptures, I only offer this to men's consideration: If there be a God, whose providence governs the world, and all the creatures in it, is it not reasonable to think that he hath a particular care of men, the noblest part of this visible world? And seeing he hath made them capable of eternal duration, that he hath provided for their eternal happiness, and sufficiently revealed to them the way to it, and the terms and conditions of it! Now let any man produce any book in the world, that pretends to be from God, and to do this, that for the matter of it is so worthy of God, the doc. trines whereof are so useful, and the precepts so reasonable, and the arguments so powerful, the truth of all which was confirmed by so many great and unquestionable miracles, the relation of which has been transmitted to posterity in public and authentic records, written by those who were eye and ear witnesses of what they wrote, and free from suspicion of any worldly interest and design; let any produce a book like to this, in all these respects; and which, over and besides, hath, by the power and reasonableness of the doctrines contained in it, prevailed so miraculously in the world, by weak and inconsiderable means, in opposition to all the wit and power of the world, and under such discouragements as no other religion was ever assaulted with; let any man bring forth such a book, and he hath my leave to believe it as soon as the Bible. But if there be none such, as I am well assured there is not, then every one that thinks God hath revealed himself to men, ought to embrace and entertain the doctrine of the holy scriptures, as revealed by God. And now having presented men with such arguments and considerations as are proper, and I think sufficient to induce belief, I think it not unreasonable to entreat and urge men diligently and impartially to consider these matters; and if there be weight in these considerations to sway reasonable men, that they would not suffer themselves to be biassed by prejudice, or passion, or interest, to a contrary persuasion. Thus much I may with reason desire of men; for though men cannot believe what they will, yet men may, if they will, consider things seriously and impartially, and yield or withhold their assent, as they shall see cause, after a thorough search and examination. 'If any man will offer a serious argument against any of the principles of religion, and will debate the matter soberly, as one that considers the infinite consequences of these things one way or other, and would gladly be satisfied, he deserves to be heard what he can say, but if a man will turn religion into raillery, and confute it by two or three bold jests, he doth not make religion, but himself, ridiculous, in the opinion of all considerate men, because he sports with his life. 'So that it concerns every man that would not trifle away his soul, and fool himself into irrecoverable misery, with the greatest seriousness to inquire into these things, whether they be so, or no, and patiently to consider the argu ments that are brought for them. 'And when you are examining these matters do not take into consideration any sensual or worldly interest; but deal fairly and impartially with yourselves. Think with yourselves that you have not the making of things true and |