In 1745, when the merely scientific phase of Swedenborg’s life closed, he had arrived at the mature age of fifty-seven years. As we have seen, he had, from early manhood, united an active and practical, with a deeply philosophic, life. An earnest student of nature, he had never become so engrossed in thought as to forget the end of all thought—the improvement and the happiness of mankind. His long series of scientific works had gained him a wide-spread reputation, and wherever he went, he was hailed as a friend and brother by the thoughtful and philosophical. In Sweden, as before said, he was well connected; and had he been desirous to live at home, and immerse himself in the cares and politics of his country, he might have reached the highest offices and honors which royalty could confer. At the age of fifty-seven, with Swedenborg’s attainments, success, and fame, a worldly man might have been content. Such a one would, probably, have taken his ease, reposed upon the past, and have been content with the competence of comfort and reputation which he had attained. But Swedenborg was a man of a very different character. Love of ease formed no part of his constitution, and if he had not been led by the hand of Providence to the contemplation of the spiritual world and its glorious realities, he would, to the end of his life, have remained a zealous and single-eyed seeker after the truths of the natural world. The annals of science do not furnish an instance of any one who surpassed Swedenborg in that humility of spirit, and that simple desire for truth, which is the crowning grace and glory of the true philosopher. Although, at times, he propounded views which he knew were antagonistic to the ideas of some of the leading savans of his time, yet we never find him getting angry or attempting to scold the world into belief with him. He simply lays down what he believes to be the truth; and with the most charming modesty trusts for its acceptance among men, to its agreement with reason and facts. Full of this trustful spirit we find him saying in the “Principia:” “In writing the present work, I have not aimed at the applause of the learned world, nor at the acquisition of a name or popularity. To me, it is a matter of indifference whether I win the favorable opinion of every one, or of no one; whether I gain much or no commendation. Such things are not objects of regard to one whose mind is bent on truth and true philosophy. Should I, therefore, gain the assent or approbation of others, I shall receive it only as a confirmation of my having pursued the truth. I have no wish to persuade any one to lay aside the principles of those illustrious and talented authors who have adorned the world, and in place of their principles to adopt mine. For this reason it is, that I have not made mention so much as of one of them, or even hinted at his name, lest I should injure his feelings, or seem to impugn his sentiments, or to derogate from the praise which