And

than I believe there are diseases. At the sight He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain. of so many inventions, I could not but imagine Then to the patron of his art he pray'd ; The patron of his art refus'd his aid. myself in a kind of arsenal or magazine where But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief, store of arms was reposited against any sudden And pierc'd with pity, hastens her relief. invasion. Should you be attacked by the ene- A branch of healing dittany she brought, my sideways, here was an infallible piece of Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought; Rough in the stem, which woolly leaves surround; defensive armour to cure the pleurisy: should The leaves with flowers, the flow'rs with purple crown'd; a distemper beat up your head-quarters, here Well known to wounded goats; a sure relief you might purchase an impenetrable helmet: To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief. or, in the language of the artist, a cephalic Th' extracted liquor with Ambrosian dews, This Venus brings, in clouds involv'd; and brews tincture: if your main body be assaulted, And od'rous penance: unseen she stands, here are various kinds of armour in case of Temp'ring the mixture with her heavenly hands; various onsets. I began to congratulate the present age upon the happiness men might reasonably hope for in life, when death was thus in a manner defeated, and when pain itself would be of so short a duration, that it would but just serve to enhance the value of pleasure. While I was in these thoughts, I unluckily called to mind a story of an ingenious gentleman of the last age, who lying violently afflicted with the gout, a person came and offered his service to cure him by a method which he assured him was infallible; the servant who received the message carried it up to his master, who inquiring whether the person came on foot or in a chariot, and being No. 573.] Wednesday, July 28, 1714. informed that he was on foot: "Go," says he, "send the knave about his business: was his method as infallible as he pretends, he would long before now have been in his coach and six."

In like manner I conclude that, had

all these advertisers arrived to that skill they

[wound.
pours it in a bowl already crown'd
With juice of med'cinal herbs, prepared to bathe the
The leech, unknowing of superior art,
Which aids the cure, with this foments the part;
And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart.
Stanch'd in the blood and in the bottom stands
The steel, but carcely touch'd with tender hands,
Moves up and follows of its own accord :
And health and vigour are at once restor❜d.
And first the footsteps of a god he found
Iapis first perceiv'd the closing wound;
Arms, arms!' he cries: 'the sword and shield prepare,
And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war..
This is no mortal work, no cure of mine,
Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine.

Virg. En. Lib. xii. 391. &c.

Castigata remordent. Juv. Sat. ii. 35. Chastised, the accusation they retort.

My paper on the club of widows, has the rest, a long one from Mrs. President, as brought me in several letters; and, amongst

follows:

SMART SIR,

pretend to, they would have had no need for so many years successively to publish to the world the place of their abode, and the virtues of their medicines. One of these gentlemen indeed pretends to an effectual cure for lean'You are pleased to be very merry, as you ness: what effects it may have upon those imagine, with us widows: and you seem to who have tried it I cannot tell; but I am ground your satire on our receiving consolation credibly informed, that the call for it has so soon after the death of our dears, and the been so great, that it has effectually cured number we are pleased to admit for our comthe doctor himself of that distemper. Could panions; but you never reflect what husbands each of them produce so good an instance of the success of his medicines, they might soon persuade the world into an opinion of them,

we have buried, and how short a sorrow the loss of them was capable of occasioning. For my own part Mrs. President as you call me, my first husband I was married to at fourteen 'I observe that most of the bills agree in by my uncle and guardian (as I afterwards disone expression, viz. that "with God's blessing" covered) by way of sale, for the third part of they perform such and such cures: this ex- my fortune. This fellow looked upon me as a pression is certainly very proper and emphatimere child he might breed up after his own cal, for that is all they have for it. And if fancy: if he kissed my chamber-maid before ever a cure is performed on a patient where my face, I was supposed so ignorant, how could they are concerned, they can claim no greater I think there was any hurt in it? When he share in it than Virgil's Iapis in the curing of came home roaring drunk at five in the mornÆneas; he tried his skill, was very assiduous ing, it was the custom of all men that live in about the wound, and indeed was the only visi- the world. I was not to see a penny of money, ble means that relieved the hero; but the poet for, poor thing how could I manage it? He assures us it was the particular assistance of a took a handsome cousin of his into the house deity that speeded the operation. An English reader may see the whole story in Mr. Dryden's translation:

Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood,
And heard and saw, unmov'd, the mourning crowd.
The fam'd physician tucks his robes around,
With ready hands, and hastens to the wound.
With gentle touches he performs his part,
This way and that soliciting the dart,
And exercises all his heavenly art.

All soft'ning simples, known af sov'reign use,
He presses out, and pours their noble juice;
These first infus'd, to lenify the pain.

VOL. II.

(as he said) to be my house-keeper, and to govern my servants; for how should I know how to rule a family? While she had what money she pleased, which was but reasonable for the trouble she was at for my good, I was not to be so censorious as to dislike familiarity and kindness between near relations. I was too great a coward to contend, but not so ignorant a child to be thus imposed upon. I resented his contempt as I ought to do, and as most poor passive blinded wives do, until it pleased heaven to take away my tyrant, who left

43

me free possession of my own land, and a day, out of pure spite to him. Half an hour large jointure. My youth and money brought after I was married I received a penitential me many lovers, and several endeavoured letter from the honourable Mr. Edward Waitto establish an interest in my heart while my fort, in which he begged pardon for his pas husband was in his last sickness; the honour-sion, as proceeding from the violence of his able Edward Waitfort was one of the first who love. I triumphed when I read it, and could addressed to me, advised to it by a cousin of not help, out of the pride of my heart, showing his that was my intimate friend, and knew to it to my new spouse; and we were very merry a penny what I was worth. Mr. Waitfort is together upon it. Alas! my mirth lasted a a very agreeable man, and every body would short time; my young husband was very much like him as well as he does himself, if they did in debt when I married him, and his first acnot plainly see that his esteem and love is tion afterwards was to set up a gilt chariot all taken up, and by such an object as it is and six in fine trappings before and behind. impossible to get the better of; I mean him- I had married so hastily, I had not the pruself. He made no doubt of marrying me dence to reserve my estate in my own hands; within four or five months, and began to pro-my ready money was lost in two nights at the ceed with such an assured easy air, that piqued Groom-porter's; and my diamond necklace, my pride not to banish him quite contrary, which was stole I did not know how, I met out of pure malice, I heard his first decla- in the street upon Jenny Wheedle's neck. My ration with so much innocent surprise, and plate vanished piece by piece and I had been blushed so prettily, I perceived it touched his reduced to downright pewter, if my officer had very heart, and he thought me the best-natur-not been deliciously killed in a duel, by a feled silly poor thing on earth When a man low that had cheated him of five hundred has such a notion of a woman, he loves her pounds, and afterwards, at his own request, better than he thinks he does. I was over-satisfied him and me too, by running him joyed to be thus revenged on him for design- through the body. Mr. Waitfort was still in ing on my fortune; and finding it was in my love, and told me so again; and, to prevent power to make his heart ache, I resolved to all fears of ill usage, he desired me to reserve complete my conquest, and entertained seve- every thing in my own hands: but now my ral other pretenders. The first impression acquaintance began to wish me joy of his conof my undesigning innocence was so strong in stancy, my charms were declining, and I his head, he attributed all my followers to the could not resist the delight I took in showing inevitable force of my charms: and, from the young flirts about town it was yet in my several blushes and side glances, concluded power to give pain to a man of sense; this, himself the favourite; and when I used him and some private hopes he would hang himlike a dog for my diversion, he thought it self, and what a glory would it be for me, and was all prudence and fear; and pitied the vio-how should I be envied, made me accept of belence I did my own inclinations to complying third wife to my lord Friday. I proposed with my friends, when I married Sir Nicholas from my rank and his estate, to live in all the Fribble of sixty years of age. You know, joys of pride; but how was I mistaken! be sir, the case of Mrs. Medlar. I hope you was neither extravagant, nor ill-natured, nor would not have had me cry out my eyes for debauched. I suffered however more with such a husband. I shed tears enough for my him than with all my others. He was splenewidowhood a week after my marriage; and tic. I was forced to sit whole days hearkening when he was put in his grave, reckoning he to his imaginary ails; it was impossible to had been two years dead, and myself a widow tell what would please him, what he liked of that standing, I married three weeks after-when the sun shined, made him sick when it wards John Sturdy, esq. his next heir. I had rained; he had no distemper, but lived in indeed some thoughts of taking Mr. Waitfort constant fear of them all. My good genius but I found he could stay; and besides, he dictated to me to bring him acquainted with thought it indecent to ask me to marry again Dr. Gruel; from that day he was always conuntil my year was out; so, privately resolv-tented, because he had names for all his coming him for my fourth, I took Mr. Sturdy for plaints; the good doctor furnished him with the present. Would you believe it, sir, Mr. reasons for all his pains; and prescriptions Sturdy was just five-and-twenty, about six foot for every fancy that troubled him; in hot high, and the stoutest fox hunter in the coun-weather he lived upon juleps, and let blood try, and I believe I wished ten thousand times to prevent fevers; when it grew cloudy, he for my old Fribble again; he was following generally apprehended a consumption. Το his dogs all the day, and all the night keeping shorten the history of this wretched part of them up at table with him and his companions: my life, he ruined a good constitution by enhowever, I think myself obliged to them for deavouring to mend it; and took several medleading him a chase in which he broke his icines, which ended in taking the grand remeneck. Mr. Waitfort began his addresses anew; dy, which cured both him and me of all of our and I verily believe I had married him now, uneasiness. After his death, I did not exbut there was a young officer in the guards that pect to hear any more of Mr. Waitfort. I had debauched two or three of my acquaintance knew he had renounced me to all his friends, and I could not forbear being a little vain of and been very witty upon my choice, which his courtship. Mr. Waitfort heard of it, and he affected to talk of with great indifferency. read me such an insolent lecture upon the con- I gave over thinking of him, being told that duct of women, I married the officer that very he was engaged with a pretty woman and a

No. 574.]

or covetous husband: my first insulted me, my second was nothing to me, my third disgusted me, the fourth would have ruined me, the fifth tormented me, and the sixth would have starved me. If the other ladies you name would thus give in their husband's pictures at length, you would see they have had as little reason as myself to lose their hours in weeping and wailing.

Non possidentem multa vocaveris
Rectè beatum; rectiùs occupat
Nomen beati, qui Deorum
Muneribus sapienter uti,
Duramque callet pauperiem pati.

Hor. Od. ix. Lib. 4. 45.

Believe not those that lands possess,
And shining heaps of useless ore,
The only lords of happiness;

great fortune; it vexed me a little, but not haved myself so well upon the occasion, that enough to make me neglect the advice of my to this day I believe he died of an apoplexy. cousin Wishwell, that came to see me the Mr. Waitfort was resolved not to be too late day my lord went into the country with Rus- this time, and I heard from him in two days. sel; she told me experimentally, nothing put I am almost out of my weeds at this present an unfaithful lover and a dear husband so writing, and very doubtful whether I will marsoon out of one's head as a new one, and at ry him or no. I do not think of a seventh for the same time proposed to me a kinsman of the ridiculous reason you mention, but out her's. "You understand enough of the world," of pure morality that I think so much consaid she, to know money is the most valuable stancy should be rewarded, though I may not consideration; he is very rich, and I am sure do it after all perhaps. I do not believe all cannot live long; he has a cough that must the unreasonable malice of mankind can give carry him off soon." I knew afterwards she a pretence why I should have been constant had given the self-same character of me to to the memory of any of the deceased, or have him; but however I was so much persuaded spent much time in grieving for an insolent, by her, I hastened on the match for fear he insignificant, negligent, extravagant splenetic, should die before the time came; he had the same fears, and was so pressing I married him in a fortnight, resolving to keep it private a fortnight longer. During this fortnight Mr. Waitfort came to make me a visit: he told me he had waited on me sooner. but had that respect for me, he would not interrupt me in the first day of my affliction for my dead lord; that, as soon as he heard I was at liberty to make another choice, he had broke off a match very advantageous for his fortune, just upon No. 574.] Friday, July 30, 1714. the point of conclusion, and was forty times I never remore in love with me than ever. ceived more pleasure in my life than from this declaration; but I composed my face to a grave air, and said the news of his engagement had touched me to the heart, that in a rash jealous fit I had married a man I could never have thought on, if I had not lost all Good-natured Mr. Waitfort hopes of him. had liked to have dropped down dead at hearing this, but went from me with such an air as plainly showed me he had laid all the blame upon himself, and hated those friends I was once engaged in discourse with a Rothat had advised him to the fatal application; he seemed as much touched by my misfor-sicrucian about the great secret.' As this tune as his own, for he had not the least kind of men (I mean those of them who are doubt I was still passionately in love with him. not professed cheats) are overrun with enthuThe truth of the story is, my new husband siasm and philosophy, it was very amusing to gave me reason to repent I had not staid for hear this religious adept descanting on his prehim; he had married me for my money, and tended discovery. He talked of the secret as I soon found he loved money to distraction; of a spirit which lived within an emerald, and there was pothing he would not do to get it; converted every thing that was near it to the 'It gives nothing he would not suffer to preserve it: highest perfection it is capable of. the smallest expense kept him awake whole a lustre,' says he, to the sun, and water to nights; and when he paid a bill, it was with the diamond. It irradiates every metal, and as many sighs, and after as many delays, enriches lead with all the properties of gold. as a man that endures the loss of a limb. It heightens smoke into flame, flame into I heard nothing but reproofs for extravagan-light, and light into glory.' He further adI saw very well that he ded, that a single ray of it dissipates pain, cy whatever I did. would have starved me, but for losing my and care, and melancholy, from the person on jointures; and he suffered agonies between whom it falls. In short,, says he, its prethe grief of seeing me have so good a stomach, sence naturally changes every place into a After he had gone on for and the fear that, if he had made me fast, it kind of heaven. might prejudice my health. I did not doubt some time in this unintelligible cant, I found he would have broke my heart, ifI did not that he jumbled natural and moral ideas tobreak his, which was allowable by the law gether in the same discourse, and that his of self-defence. The way was very easy. Igreat secret was nothing else but content. This virtue does indeed produce, in some resolved to spend as much money as I could; and, before he was aware of the stroke, ap-measure, all those effects which the alchymist peared before him in a two thousand pound usually ascribes to what he calls the philosodiamond necklace: he said nothing, but went pher's stone; and if it does not bring riches, quietly to his chamber, and, as it is thought, it does the same thing, by banishing the decomposed himself with a dose of opium. I be-sire of them. If it cannot remove the dis

But rather those that know
For what kind fates bestow,
And have the art to use the store:
That have the generous skill to bear
The hated weight of poverty.

Creech.

quietudes arising out of a man's mind, body, ter superfluous and imaginary enjoyments. or fortune, it makes him easy under them. It and will not be at the trouble of contracting has indeed a kindly influence on the soul of their desires, an excellent saying of Bion the man, in respect of every being to whom he philosopher; namely, that no man has so stands related. It extinguishes all murmur, much care as he who endeavours after the repining, and ingratitude, towards that Be-most happiness. ing who has allotted him his part to act in this In the second place, every one ought to reworld. It destroys all inordinate ambition, flect how much more unhappy he might be and every tendency to corruption, with re- than he really is. The former consideration gard to the community wherein he is placed. took in all those who are sufficiently provided It gives sweetness to his conversation, and a with the means to make themselves easy; perpetual serenity to all his thoughts. this regards such as actually lie under some pressure or misfortune. These may receive great alleviation from such a comparison as the unhappy person may make between himself and others, or between the misfortunes which he suffers, and greater misfortunes which might have befallen him.

Among the many methods which might be made use of for the acquiring of this virtue, 1 shall only mention the two following. First of all, a man should always consider how much he has more than he wants: and, secondly, how much more unhappy he might be than he really is. First of all, a man should always consider I like the story of the honest Dutchman, who how much he has more than he wants. I am upon breaking his leg by a fall from the mainwonderfully pleased with the reply which mast, told the standers by, it was a great Aristippus made to one who condoled him mercy that it was not his neck. To which, upon the loss of a farm: Why,' said he, I since I am got into quotations, give me leave to have three farms still, and you have but one; add the saying of an old philosopher, who, so that I ought rather to be afflicted for you after having invited some of his friends to than you for me.' On the contrary, foolish dine with him, was ruffled by his wife, that men are more apt to consider what they have came into the room in a passion, and threw lost than what they possess; and to fix their down the table that stood before them: Every eyes upon those who are richer than them- one,' says he, has his calamity, and he is a selves, rather than on those who are under happy man that has no greater than this.' greater difficulties. All the real pleasures and We find an instance to the same purpose in conveniencies of life lie in a narrow compass; the life of doctor Hammond, written by bishop but it is the humour of mankind to be always Fell. As this good man was troubled with looking forward, and straining after one who a complication of distempers, when he had the has got the start of them in wealth and honour. gout upon him, he used to thank God that it For this reason, as there are none can be pro- was not the stone; and when he had the stone, perly called rich who have not more than they that he had not both these distempers on him want, there are few rich men in any of the at the same time. politer nations, but among the middle sort of I cannot conclude this essay without observpeople, who keep their wishes within their ing that there never was any system besides fortunes, and have more wealth than they that of Christianity, which could effectually know how to enjoy. Persons of a higher rank produce in the mind of man the virtue I have live in a kind of splendid poverty, and are per- been hitherto speaking of. In order to make petually wanting, because, instead of acquies- us content with our present condition, many cing in the solid pleasures of life, they endea of the ancient philosophers tell us that our vour to outvie one another in shadows and discontent only hurts ourselves, without beappearances. Men of sense have at all times ing able to make any alteration in our circumbeheld, with a great deal of mirth, this silly stances; others, that whatever evil befalls us game that is playing over their heads, and, is derived to us by a fatal necessity, to which by contracting their desires, enjoy all that the gods themselves are subject; while others secret satisfaction which others are always in very gravely tell the man who is miserable, quest of. The truth is, this ridiculous chase that it is necessary he should be so,to keep up after imaginary pleasures cannot be suffici- the harmony of the universe, and that the ently exposed, as it is the great source of those scheme of Providence would be troubled and evils which generally undo a nation. Let a perverted were he otherwise. These, and the man's estate be what it will, he is a poor man like considerations, rather silence than satisfy if he does not live within it, and naturally sets a mar. They may show him that his disconhimself to sale to any one that can give him tent is unreasonable, but are by no means sufhis price. When Pittacus, after the death of his ficient to relieve it. They rather give despair brother, who had left him a good estate, was than consolation. In a word, a man might reoffered a great sum of money by the king of Lydia, he thanked bim for his kindness, but told him he had already more by half than he knew what to do with. In short, content is equivalent to wealth, and luxury to poverty; or, to give the thought a more agreeable turn, Content is natural wealth,' says Socrates; to On the contrary, religion bears a more tenwhich I shall add, Luxury is artificial pover-der regard to human nature. It prescribes to ty.' I shall therefore recommend to the con- every miserable man the means of bettering sideration of those who are always aiming af- his condition; nay, it shows him that the bear

ply to one of these comforters as Augustus did to his friend, who advised him not to grieve for the death of a person whom he loved, be. cause his grief could not fetch him again: It is for that very reason,' said the emperor, that I grieve.'

ing of his afflictions as he ought to do will na- | busy species fall short even of that age? How turally end in the removal of them: it makes would he be lost in horror and admiration, when him easy here, because it can make him happy he should know that this set of creatures, who hereafter.

Upon the whole, a contented minds the greatest blessing a man can enjoy in this world; and if in the present life his happiness arises from the subduing of his desires, it will arise in the next from the gratification

of them.

No. 575.] Monday, August 2, 1714.

Nec morti esse locum

No room is left for death.

Virg. Georg. iv. 226.
Dryden.

lay out all their endeavours for this life, which scarce deserves the name of existence-when, I say, he should know that this set of creatures are to exist to all eternity in another life, for which they make no preparations? Nothing can be a greater disgrace to reason, than that men, who are persuaded of these two different states of being, should be perpetually employed in providing for a life of threescore and ten years, and neglecting to make provision for that which after many myriads of years will be still new, and still beginning; especially when weconsider that our endeavours for making ourA LEWD young fellow seeing an aged hermit selves great, or rich, or honorable, or whatgo by him barefoot, 'Father, says he, you ever else we place our happiness in, may after are in a very miserable condition, if there is all prove unsuccessful; whereas, if we connot another world.' 'True son,' said the her- stantly and sincerely endeavour to make ourmit, but what is thy condition if there is?' selves happy in the other life, we are sure that Man is a creature designed for two different our endeavours will succeed, and that we shall states of being, or rather for two different not be disappointed of our hope. lives. His first life is short and transient ; The following question is started by one of his second permanent and lasting. The ques- the schoolmen.-Supposing the whole body of tion we are all concerned in is this, in which the earth were a great ball or mass of the finest of these two lives it is our chief interest to sand, and that a single grain or particle of this make ourselves happy? Or, in other words, sand should be annihilated every thousand whether we should endeavour to secure to years? Supposing then that you had it in your ourselves the pleasures and gratifications of a choice to be happy all the while this prodigious life which is uncertain and precarious, and at mass of sand was consuming by this slow meits utmost length of a very inconsiderable du-thod until there was not a grain of it left, on ration? or to secure to ourselves the plea-condition you were to be miserable for ever sures of a life which is fixed and settled, and after? Or, supposing that you might be happy will never end? Every man, upon the first for ever after, on condition you would be miserhearing of this question, knows very well able until the whole mass of sand were thus anwhich side of it he ought to close with. But nihilated at the rate of one sand in a thousand however right we are in theory, it is plain years:-which of these two cases would you that in practice we adhere to the wrong side make your choice? of the question. We make provisions for this life as though it were never to have an end, and for the other life as though it were never to have a beginning.

It must be confessed in this case, so many thousands of years are to the imagination as a kind of eternity, though in reality they do not bear so great a proportion to that duration Should a spirit of superior rank, who is a which is to follow them as an unit does to the stranger to human nature, accidentally' alight greatest number which you can put together upon the earth, and take a survey of its in- in figures, or as one of those sands to the suphabitants, what would his notions of us be?posed heap. Reason therefore tells us, without Would not he think that we are a species of any manner of hesitation, which would be the beings made for quite different ends and pur- better part in this choice. However, as I have poses than what we really are? Must not he before intimated, our reason might in such case imagine that we are placed in this world to be so overset by the imagination, as to dispose get riches and honours? Would not he think some persons to sink under the consideration that it was our duty to toil after wealth, and of the great length of the first part of this dustation, and title? Nay, would not he believe ration, and of the great distance of that second we were forbidden poverty by threats of eter- duration, which is to succeed it. The mind, I nal punishment, and enjoined to pursue our say,might give itself up to that happiness which pleasures under pain of damnation? He would is at hand, considering that it is so very near, certainly imagine that we were influenced by and that it would last so very long. But when a scheme of duties quite opposite to those the choice we actually have before us is this, which are indeed prescribed to us. And fru-whether we will choose to be happy for the ly, according to such an imagination, he must space of only threescore and ten, nay, perhaps conclude that we are a species of the most of only twenty or ten years, I might say of only obedient creatures in the universe; that we a day or an hour, and miserable to all eterniare constant to our duty; and that we keep a ty: or, on the contrary, miserable for this steady eye on the end for which we were sent short term of years, and happy for a whole hither. eternity: what words are sufficient to express But how great would be his astonishment, that folly and want of consideration, which in when he learned that we were beings not de-such a case makes a wrong choice? signed to exist in this world above threescore I here put the case even at the worst, by supand ten years; and that the greatest part of this posing, what seldom happens, that a course of