Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb, and to tell
fortunes by second sight. In 1732 there appeared 'Secret Memoirs of the
late Mr. D. Campbell.... written by himself... with an Appendix by way
of 'vindicating Mr. C. against the groundless aspersion cast upon him,
that he but pretended to be deaf and dumb.'
Ben Jonson.
Contents
Contents, p.5
|
Wednesday, March 12, 1712 |
Steele |
O curvæ in terris animæ, et cœlestium inanes.
Pers.
1
Mr.
Spectator,
The Materials you have collected together towards a general History
of Clubs, make so bright a Part of your Speculations, that I think it
is but a Justice we all owe the learned World to furnish you with such
Assistances as may promote that useful Work. For this Reason I could
not forbear communicating to you some imperfect Informations of a Set
of Men (if you will allow them a place in that Species of Being) who
have lately erected themselves into a Nocturnal Fraternity, under the
Title of the
Mohock Club, a Name borrowed it seems from a sort of
Cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the
Nations about them. The President is styled Emperor of the Mohocks;
and his Arms are a Turkish Crescent, which his Imperial Majesty bears
at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his Forehead.
Agreeable to their Name, the avowed design of their Institution is
Mischief; and upon this Foundation all their Rules and Orders are
framed. An outrageous Ambition of doing all possible hurt to their
Fellow-Creatures, is the great Cement of their Assembly, and the only
Qualification required in the Members. In order to exert this
Principle in its full Strength and Perfection, they take care to drink
themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the Possibility of attending to
any Motions of Reason and Humanity; then make a general Sally, and
attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the Streets through
which they patrole. Some are knock'd down, others stabb'd, others cut
and carbonado'd. To put the Watch to a total Rout, and mortify some of
those inoffensive Militia, is reckon'd a
Coup d'éclat. The particular
Talents by which these Misanthropes are distinguished from one
another, consist in the various kinds of Barbarities which they
execute upon their Prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy
Dexterity in tipping the Lion upon them; which is performed by
squeezing the Nose flat to the Face, and boring out the Eyes with
their Fingers: Others are called the Dancing-Masters, and teach their
Scholars to cut Capers by running Swords thro' their Legs; a new
Invention, whether originally French I cannot tell: A third sort are
the Tumblers, whose office it is to set Women on their Heads, and
commit certain Indecencies, or rather Barbarities, on the Limbs which
they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they can't but be
very shocking to the Reader as well as the
Spectator. In
this manner
they carry on a War against Mankind; and by the standing Maxims of
their Policy, are to enter into no Alliances but one, and that is
Offensive and Defensive with all Bawdy-Houses in general, of which
they have declared themselves Protectors and Guarantees
2.
'I must own, Sir, these are only broken incoherent Memoirs of this
wonderful Society, but they are the best I have been yet able to
procure; for being but of late Establishment, it is not ripe for a
just History; And to be serious, the chief Design of this Trouble is
to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleas'd, out of a
concern for the good of your Countrymen, to act under the Character of
Spectator, not only the Part of a Looker-on, but an Overseer of their
Actions; and whenever such Enormities as this infest the Town, we
immediately fly to you for Redress. I have reason to believe, that
some thoughtless Youngsters, out of a false Notion of Bravery, and an
immoderate Fondness to be distinguished for Fellows of Fire, are
insensibly hurry'd into this senseless scandalous Project: Such will
probably stand corrected by your Reproofs, especially if you inform
them, that it is not Courage for half a score Fellows, mad with Wine
and Lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that
the Manners of Indian Savages are no becoming Accomplishments to an
English fine Gentleman. Such of them as have been Bullies and Scowrers
of a long standing, and are grown Veterans in this kind of Service,
are, I fear, too hardned to receive any Impressions from your
Admonitions. But I beg you would recommend to their Perusal your [Volume 1 link:
ninth]
Speculation: They may there be taught to take warning from the Club of
Duellists; and be put in mind, that the common Fate of those Men of
Honour was to be hang'd.
I am,
Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
Philanthropos
March the 10th, 1711-12.
The following Letter is of a quite contrary nature; but I add it here,
that the Reader may observe at the same View, how amiable Ignorance may
be when it is shewn in its Simplicities, and how detestable in
Barbarities. It is written by an honest Countryman to his Mistress, and
came to the Hands of a Lady of good Sense wrapped about a Thread-Paper,
who has long kept it by her as an Image of artless Love.
To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.
'Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray
you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy
the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I
had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Powder at the Apothecary's
Shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my
flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the more bold now to
write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match
where I please; for my Father is taken away, and now I am come to my
Living, which is Ten Yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard
of Land in our Field but it is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a
Thief is worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided
for: Besides I have good Houshold-stuff, though I say it, both Brass
and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched,
yet, if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of
it slated. If you think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as
soon as my new Cloaths is made and Hay Harvest is in. I could, 'though
I say it, have good—'
rest is torn off
; and Posterity must be contented to know, that
Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty, but are left in the dark as to the
Name of her Lover.
T.
'Sævis inter se convenit Ursis.'
Juv.
Gay tells also in his Trivia that the Mohocks rolled women
in hogs-heads down Snow hill. Swift wrote of the Mohocks, at this time,
in his Journal to Stella,
'Grub-street papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed
of near eighty put into several prisons, and all a lie, and I begin to
think there is no truth, or very little, in the whole story.'
On the 18th of March an attempt was made to put the Mohocks down by
Royal Proclamation.
This letter is said to have been really sent to one who
married Mr. Cole, a Northampton attorney, by a neighbouring freeholder
named Gabriel Bullock, and shown to Steele by his friend the antiquary,
Browne Willis. See also
.
Contents
Contents, p.5
|
Thursday, March 13, 1712 |
Budgell |
Quid frustra Simulacra fugacia captas?
Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.
Ista repercussæ quam cernis imaginis umbra est,
Nil habet ista sui; tecum venitque, manetque,
Tecum discedet si tu discedere possis.
Ovid.
Will. Honeycomb
diverted us last Night with an Account of a young
Fellow's first discovering his Passion to his Mistress. The young Lady
was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable Opinion of
him, and was still in hopes that he would some time or other make his
Advances. As he was one day talking with her in Company of her two
Sisters, the Conversation happening to turn upon Love, each of the young
Ladies was by way of Raillery, recommending a Wife to him; when, to the
no small Surprize of her who languished for him in secret, he told them
with a more than ordinary Seriousness, that his Heart had been long
engaged to one whose Name he thought himself obliged in Honour to
conceal; but that he could shew her Picture in the Lid of his Snuff-box.
The young Lady, who found herself the most sensibly touched by this
Confession, took the first Opportunity that offered of snatching his Box
out of his Hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it, but finding her
resolved to look into the Lid, begged her, that if she should happen to
know the Person, she would not reveal her Name. Upon carrying it to the
Window, she was very agreeably surprized to find there was nothing
within the Lid but a little Looking-Glass, in which, after she had
view'd her own Face with more Pleasure than she had ever done before,
she returned the Box with a Smile, telling him, she could not but admire
at his Choice.
Will
. fancying that his Story took, immediately fell into a Dissertation
on the Usefulness of Looking-Glasses, and applying himself to me, asked,
if there were any Looking Glasses in the Times of the Greeks and Romans;
for that he had often observed in the Translations of Poems out of those
Languages, that People generally talked of seeing themselves in Wells,
Fountains, Lakes, and Rivers: Nay, says he, I remember Mr.
Dryden
in his
Ovid
tells us of a swingeing Fellow, called
Polypheme
, that made use of
the Sea for his Looking-Glass, and could never dress himself to
Advantage but in a Calm.
My Friend
Will
, to shew us the whole Compass of his Learning upon this
Subject, further informed us, that there were still several Nations in
the World so very barbarous as not to have any Looking-Glasses among
them; and that he had lately read a Voyage to the South-Sea, in which it
is said, that the Ladies of Chili always dress their Heads over a Bason
of Water.
I am the more particular in my Account of
Will.'s
last Night's Lecture
on these natural Mirrors, as it seems to bear some Relation to the
following Letter, which I received the Day before.
Sir,
'I have read your last Saturday's Observations on the Fourth Book of
Milton with great Satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the
hidden Moral, which you have taken notice of in several Parts of the
Poem. The Design of this Letter is to desire your Thoughts, whether
there may not also be some Moral couched under that Place in the same
Book where the Poet lets us know, that the first Woman immediately
after her Creation ran to a Looking-Glass, and became so enamoured of
her own Face, that she had never removed to view any of the other
Works of Nature, had not she been led off to a Man. If you think fit
to set down the whole Passage from Milton, your Readers will be able
to judge for themselves, and the Quotation will not a little
contribute to the filling up of your Paper.
Your humble Servant,
R. T.'
The last Consideration urged by my Querist is so strong, that I cannot
forbear closing with it. The Passage he alludes to, is part of
Eve's
Speech to
Adam
, and one of the most beautiful Passages in the whole Poem.
That Day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awaked, and found my self repos d
Under a shade of flow'rs, much wondering where
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence a murmuring Sound
Of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread
Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved
Pure as th' Expanse of Heav'n: I thither went
With unexperienced Thought, and laid me down
On the green Bank, to look into the clear
Smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A Shape within the watry Gleam appeared
Bending to look on me; I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon returned,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering Looks
Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fix d
Mine Eyes till now, and pined with vain Desire,
Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays
Thy coming, and thy soft Embraces, he
Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy
Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
Mother of Human Race. What could I do,
But follow streight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a Platan, yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watry Image: back I turn'd,
Thou following cry'dst aloud, Return fair Eve,
Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art,
His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being, I lent
Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart,
Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
Henceforth an individual Solace dear.
Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half!—-With that thy gentle hand
Seized mine, I yielded, and from that time see
How Beauty is excell'd by manly Grace,
And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
So spake our general Mother,—
X.
Contents
Contents, p.5
|
Friday, March 14, 1712 |
Steele |
Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea
Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum
Tristes exubiæ, munierant satis
Nocturnis ab adulteris;
Si non—
Hor.
Mr. Spectator,
'Your Correspondent's Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your
subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you
a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained
of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.
'I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It
is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon
which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that
for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moment's Rest. I
look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as
constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a
Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well
secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four
Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any
other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a
Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on
constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins
planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given
frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of
all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by
reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely
drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of
attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common
Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter
from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But
to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand
for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill
Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore
desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon
which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be
taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that
some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to
bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game.
I am, Sir,
Your humble Servant.
Mile-End-Green, March 6, 1711-12.
Mr. Spectator,
Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the
Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal
towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened
at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let
him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the
Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an
Opportunity to break his Mind.
I am, Sir,
Your humble Servant,
Mary Comfitt.
If I observe he cannot speak, I'll give him time to recover himself,
and ask him how he does.
Dear Sir,
I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity
give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear
that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as
monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they
say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desird by the
Mother. I have been marryd upwards of six Years, have had four
Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has
put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy
with them, would not only have handsomely defrayd the Charges of the
Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for
the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects
of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and
Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few
of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home
one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation,
whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair
of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week
longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within
that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily complyd with.
Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she
should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the
old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her
Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her
Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have
furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of
being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose
upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by
good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her
Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought
her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the
Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those
of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or
the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be
contented tho' I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or
Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl
again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending 'twill make the
Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her
Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I
have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were
coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast
upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to
partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman
to cut her off a Slice as if 'twere for himself, which the Fellow did;
and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite,
that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will
be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if
there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of
Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your
Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in
every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father
should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall
impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and am
Sir,
Your most Obliged, and
most Faithful Humble Servant,
T.B.
Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much
as Molly does China-Ware.
T.
Contents
Contents, p.5
|
Saturday, March 15, 1712 |
Addison |
Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.
Virg.
We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon
Eve
as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity,
Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout
his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that
arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first
Part of the fifth Book.
Adam
upon his awaking finds
Eve
still asleep,
with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he
regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the
Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd
to a Lover's Ear.
His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve
With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,
As through unquiet Rest: he on his side
Leaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial Love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake
My Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found,
Heav'n's last best Gift, my ever new Delight!
Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field
Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring
Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,
How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee
Sits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.
Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled Eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake:
O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,
My Glory, my Perfection! glad I see
Thy Face, and Morn return'd—
I cannot but take notice that
Milton
, in the Conferences between
Adam
and
Eve
, had his Eye very frequently upon the
Book of Canticles
, in
which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not
unlike what we meet with in
Homer
, who is generally placed near the Age
of
Solomon
. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding
Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like
occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and
come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the
Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come,
and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth
forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good
Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.
Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early
to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender
Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.
His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that
—Where the Sapient King
Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,
shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.
Eve's
Dream is full of those
high Conceits engendring Pride
, which, we
are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is
that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by
Adam
in the
following beautiful Lines.
Why sleep'st thou Eve?
now is the pleasant Time,
The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields
To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reigns
Full orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing1 Light
Shadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain,
If none regard. Heav'n wakes with all his Eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's Desire,
In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment,
Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!
An injudicious Poet would have made
Adam
talk thro' the whole Work in
such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the
Courtship of
Milton's Adam
, and could not be heard by
Eve
in her State
of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her
Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of
her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho' the Catastrophe of the
Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so
artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows
in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho' the Vision it self is
founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness
and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream.
Adam
, conformable to his
superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts
Eve
upon this
occasion.
So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,
But silently a gentle Tear let fall
From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair;
Two other precious Drops, that ready stood
Each in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fell
Kiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet Remorse
And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.
The
Morning Hymn
is written in Imitation of one of those
Psalms
, where,
in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the
Psalmist
calls not only
upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate
Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations
of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of God's Works, and
awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if
this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper
kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first
Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen
the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be
acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter
to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful
Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole
Hymn
, nor the Holiness
of that Resolution with which it concludes.
Having
mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the
Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet
gives
of
Raphael
. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight
through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As
Milton
every where
fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing,
he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it
opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through
it.
'Till at the Gate
Of Heav'n arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide,
On golden Hinges turning, as by Work
Divine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.
The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th
Iliad
, as that in particular, where speaking of
Vulcan
,
Homer
says, that
he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon
occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when
there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner.
Scaliger has rallied
Homer
very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier
has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether
in this particular of
Homer
the Marvellous does not lose sight of the
Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of
Milton's
Gates is not so
extraordinary as this of the
Tripodes
, so I am persuaded he would not
have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the
Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and
moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims,
whom they accompanied.
There is no question but
Milton
had this Circumstance in his Thoughts,
because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the
Messiah
with
living
Wheels, according to the Plan in
Ezekiel's
Vision.
—Forth rush'd with Whirlwind sound
The Chariot of paternal Deity
Flashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn,
Itself instinct with Spirit—