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He treated her in the bower which he had planted amidst the wood of nightingales. This wood was made up of such fruit-trees and plants as are most agreeable to the several kinds of singing-birds ; fo that it had drawn into it al} the music of the country, and was filled from one end of the year to the other with the most agreeable concert in season.
He shewed her every day some beautiful and surprising scene in this new region of woodlands; and, as by this means he had all the opportunities he could wish for of opening his mind to her, he succeeded so well, that upon her departure she made him a kind of promise, and gave him her word to return to him a positive answer in less than fifty years.
She had not been long among her own people in the vallies, when she received new overtures, and at the same time a molt iplendid vitit, from Mishpach, who was a mighty man of old, and had built a great city, which he called after his own name. Every house was made for at least a thousand years, nay, there were some that were leased out for three lives; so that the quantity of stone and timber consumed in this building is scarce to be imagined by those who live in the present age of the world. This great man entertained her with the voice of musical instruments which had been lately invented, and danced before her to the sound of the timbrel. He also presented her with several domestic utensils wrought in brass and iron, which had been newly found out for the conveniency
of life. In the mean time Shalum grew very uneafy with himself, and was sorely displeased at Hilpa for the reception which she had given to Mishpach, insomuch that he never wrote to her or spoke of her during a whole revolution of Saturn; but, finding that this intercourse went no further than a visit, he again renewed his addresses to her; who, during his long filence, is said very often to have cast a wishing eye upon Mount Tirzah.
Her mind continued wavering about twenty years longer between Shalum and Mishpach; for though her inclinations favoured the former, her interest pleaded very powerfully for the other. While her heart was in this unsettled condition, the following accident happened, which determined her choice. A high tower of wood that stood in the city of Mishpach having caught fire by a flash of lightning, in a few days reduced the whole town to alhes. Mishpach resolved to rebuild the place whatever it thould cost him; and, having already destroyed all the timber of the country, he was forced to have recourse to Shalum, whose forests were now two hundred years old. He purchaled these woods with so many herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, and with such a vast extent of fields and pastures, that Shalum was now grown more wealthy than Mishpach; and therefore appeared fo charming in the eyes of Zilpah's daughter, that the no longer refused him in marriage. On the day in which he brought her up into the mountains he raised a molt pro
digious pile of cedar, and of every sweet smell. ing wood, which reached above three hundred cubits in height; he also cast into the pile bundles of myrrh and sheaves of spikenard, enriching it with every spicy shrub, and making it fat with the gums of his plantations. This was the burnt-offering which Shalum offered in the day of his espousals: the smoke of it ascended up to Heaven, and filled the whole country with incense and perfume.
N° 586. Friday, August 27, 1714.
- Quæ in vita ufurpant homines, cogitant, curant, vident, quæque agunt vigilantes, agitantque, ea cuique in fomno accidunt.
Cic. de Div. · The things which employ mens waking thoughts
• and actions recur to their imaginations in sleep.'
D Y the last post I received the following
D letter, which is built upon a thought that is new, and very well carried on; for which reasons I shall give it to the public without alteration, addition, or amendment.
"IT was a good piece of advice which Pytha
goras gave to his scholars--that every • night before they slept they thould examine
* By ADDISON.
the same tau been about that ihould confides
o what they had been doing that day, and so • discover what actions were worthy of pur• fuit to-morrow, and what little vices were to • be prevented from slipping unawares into a • habit. If I might second the philosopher's • advice, it should be mine, that, in a morning • before my scholar rose, he should consider 6 what he had been about that night, and with
the same strictness as if the condition he has • believed himself to be in was real. Such a
scrutiny into the actions of his fancy must be 6 of considerable advantage ; for this reason, be• cause the circumstances which a man imagines • himself in during sleep are generally such as • entirely favour ħis inclinations, good or bad, " and give him imaginary opportunities of pur• suing them to the utmost; so that his temper « will lie fairly open to his view, while he ..considers how it is moved when free from
those constraints which the accidents of real • life put it under. Dreams are certainly the • result of our waking thoughts, and our daily • hopes and fears are what give the mind such "nimble relishes of pleasure, and such severe « touches of pain, in its midnight rambles. A
man that murders his enemy, or deserts his • friend in a dream, had need to guard his
temper against revenge and ingratitude, and 6 take heed that he be not tempted to do a vile " thing in the pursuit of falle or the neglect
of true honour. For my part, I feldom I receive a benefit, but in a night or two's • time I make most noble returns for it; which,
y benefactor is not a whit the better for, yet it pleases me to think that it was
from a principle of gratitude in me that my • mind was susceptible of such 'generous trans* port, while I thought myself repaying the • kindness of my friend: and I have often been
ready to beg pardon, instead of returning an
injury, after considering that when the • offender was in my power I had carried my • resentments much too far..
• I think it has been observed, in the course
of your Papers, how much one's happiness • or misery may depend upon the imagination : • of which truth those strange workings of • fancy in sleep are no inconsiderable instances; • so that not only the advantage a man has of < making discoveries of himself, but a regard to • his own case or disquiet, may induce him to • accept of my advice. Such as are willing to o comply with it, I Thall put into a way of • doing it with pleasure, by observing only one • maximn which I shall give them, viz. To “ go to bed with a mind entirely free from s passion, and a body clear of the least intem"6 perance.' .
* They, indeed, who can fink into sleep with their thoughts less calm or innocent than they should be, do but plunge themselves into scenes of guilt and misery; or they who are willing to purchase any midnight disquietudes
for the satisfaction of a full meal, or a skin• full of wine; these I have nothing to say to,