life, and at the fame time fee they are wholly B put on; and yet, not be hard-hearted enough to tell the dear good creature that fhe is an hypocrite. " This fort of good men is very frequent in the populous and wealthy city of London, and is the true Hen-peckt man; the kind creature cannot break through his kindneffes fo far as to come to an explanation with the tender foul, and therefore goes on to comfort her when nothing ails her, to appeafe her when he is not angry, and to give her his cafh when he knows the does not want it; rather than be uneafy for a whole month, which is computed by hard-hearted men, the fpace of time which a froward woman takes to come to herfelf, if " you have courage to ftand out. There are indeed feveral other fpecies of the Hen-peckt, and in my opinion they are certainly the beft fubjects the Queen has; and for that reafon I take it to be your duty to keep us above contempt. her handfome. I dare not upon this occafion laugh; but though I am one of the warmest churchmen in the kingdom, I am forced to rail at the times, becaufe the is a violent whig. Upon this we talk politics fo long, that the is convinced I kifs her for her wifdom. It. is a common practice with me to ask her fome question concerning the conftitution, which the anfwers me in general out of Harrington's Oceana: then I commend her ftrange memory, and her arm is immediately locked in mine. While I keep her in this temper the plays be fore me, fometimes dancing in the midst of the room, fometimes ftriking an air at her spinnet, varying her potture and her charms in fuch a manner that I am in continual pleasure : She will play the fool if I allow her to be wife; but if the fufpects I like her for trifling the immediately grows grave. *** " ¿ There are the toils in which I am taken, and I carry off my fervitude as well as most men; but my application to you is in behalf of the hen-peckt in general, and I defire a differtation from you in defence of us. You have, as I am informed, very good authorities in our favour, and hope you will not omit the men tion of the renowned Socrates, and his philofophic refignation to his wife Xantippe. This would be a very good office to the world in general, for the Hen-peckt are powerful in their quality and numbers, not only in cities but in courts; in the latter they are ever the moft obfequ'ous, in the former the most wealthy of all men, When you have confidered wedlock thoroughly, you ought to enter into the fuburbs of matrimony, and give us an account of the thraldom of kind keepers, and irrefolute lovers; the keepers who cannot quit their fair ones, though they fee their ap¬ proaching ruin; the lovers who dare not marry though they know they never fhall be happy without the mistreffes whom they cannot purchafe on other terms. i 6 " I do not know whether I make myfelf understood in the reprefentation of an hen‐peckɛ life, but I fhall take leave to give you an · account of myfelf, and my own poufe. You are to know that I am reckoned no fool, have on feveral occafions been tried whether I will take illufage, and the event has been to my advantage; and yet there is not fuch a flave in Turkey as I am to my Dear. She has a good thare of wit, and is what you call a very fpretty agradable woman." I perfectly doat on her, and my affection to her gives me all the anxieties imaginable but that of jealoufy. My being thus 'confident of her, I take, as much as I can judge of my heart, to be the reafon, that whatever he does, though it be never fo much against my inclination, there is still left fomething in her manner that is amiable. She will fometimes look at me with an affumed grandeur, and pretend to refent that I have not had respect enough for her opinion in fuch an infance in company. I cannot but fmile at the pretty anger fhe is in, and then the pretends the is ufed like a child. In a word, our great debate is, which has the fuperiority in point of understanding. She is eternally forming an argument of debate; to which I indolently anfwer, thou art mighty pretty. To this the anfwers, all the world, but you think I have as much fenfe as yourfelf. I repeat to her, indeed you are pretty. Upon this there is no patience; the will throw down any thing about her, ftamp and pull off her head-cloaths. Fy, my dear, fay I; how can a woman of your fenfe fall into fuch an intemperate rage? this is an argument which never fails. Indeed, my dear, fays the, you make me mad fonetimes, fo you do, with the filly way you have of treating me like a pretty idiot. Well, what have I got by putting her into good humour? Nothing, but that I muft convince her of my good opinion by my practice; and then I am to give her poffeffion of my little ready-money, and, for a day and a half following, diflike all the diflikes, and extol every thing the approves. I am fo exquifitely fond of this darling, that I feldom fee any of my friends, am uneafy in all comhome the is in the dumps because, the lays, I goodnature, as it is the effect of conftitution I again; and when I come N of my laft week's the fure I came fo fuon only becaufe I think I fhall now fpeak of it as it is a moral vir T. I treated of What will be a great embellishment to your difcourfe, will be, that you may find inftances of the haughty, the proud, the frolic, the stubborn, who are each of them in fecret downright flaves to their wives or mistreffes. I muft beg of you in the laft place to dwell upon this, that the wife and valiant in all ages have been Hen-peckt: and that the turdy tempers who are not flaves to affection, owe that exemption to their being enthralled by ambition, avarice, or fome meaner paffion. I have ten thousand thousand things more to fay, but my wife fees me writing, and will, according to custom, be confulted, if I do not feal this immediately.' • Yours, 6 Nathaniel Henrooft.' N° 177 SATURDAY, SEPTEM. 22, Juv. Sat. 15. ver. 140. tue. The first may make a man easy to himself and agreeable to others, but implies no merit in him that is poffefled of it. A man is no more to be praised upon this account, than becaufe he has a regular pulfe or a good digeftion. This good-nature however in the conftitution, which Mr. Dryden fomewhere calls a "Milkinefs of blood," is an admirable ground-work for the ther. In order therefore to try our goodnature, whether it arites from the body or the mind, whether it be founded in the animal or rational part of our nature; in a word, whether it be fuch as is inatled to any other reward, befides that fecret fatisfaction and contentment of mind which is effential to it, and the kind reception it procures us in the world, we must examine it by the following rules. Firft, whether it acts with fteadinefs and uniformity in fickness and in health, in profperity and in adverfity; if otherwife, it is to be locked upon as nothing elfe but an irradiation of the mind from fome new fupply of fpirits, or a more kindly circulation of the blood. Sir Francis Bacon mentions a cunning Solicitor, who would never ask a favour of a great man before dinner; but took care to prefer his petition at a time when the party petitioned had his mind free from care, and his appetites in good humour. Such a tranfient temporary good-nature as this, is not that Philanthropy, that love of mankind, which deferves the title of a moral yirtue. The next way of a man's bringing his goodnature to the teft, is to confider whether it operates according to the rules of reafon and duty: for if, notwithstanding its general benevolence to mankind, it makes no diftinction between its objects, if it exerts itfelf promifcuoufly towards the deferving and undeferving, if it relieves alike the idle and the indigent, if it gives itself up to the first petitioner, and lights upon any one rather by accident than choice, it may pafs for an amiable instinct, but must not affume the name of a moral virtue. The third trial of good-nature will be, the examining ourselves, whether or no we are able to exert it to our own difadvantage, and employ it on proper objects, notwithstanding any little pain, want, or inconvenience which may arife to ourselves from it: in a word, whether we are willing to risk any part of our fortune, our reputation, or health or eafe, for the benefit of mankind. Among all thefe expreffions of good-nature, fall fingle out that which goes under the general name of charity, as it confifts in relieving the indigent; that being a trial of this kind which offers itfelf to us almoft at all times and in every place. I fhould propofe it as a rule to every one who is provided with any competency of fortune more than fufficient for the neceffaries of life, to lay afide a certain proportion of his income for the ufe of the poor. This I would look upon as an offering to him who has a right to the whole, for the ufe of thofe whom, in the paffage hereafter mentioned, he has defcribed as his own reprefentatives upon earth. At the fame time we should manage our charity with fuch prudence and caution, that we may not hurt our own friends or relation, whilst we are doing good to thofe who are ftrangers to us. This may posibly be explained better by an example than by a rule. Τα 1 Eugenius is a man of an univerfal good-natur, and generous beyond the extent of his fortune; but withal fo prudent, in the economy of his affairs, that what goes out in charity is made up by good management. Eugenius has what the world calls two hundred poun is a year; but never values himfelf above ninefcore, as not thinking he ha a right to the tenth part, which he always apropriates to charitable ufes. this fum he frequently makes other voluntary additions, infomuch, that in a good year, for fuch he accounts thofe in which he has been, able to make greater bounties than ordinary, he has given above twice that fum to he fickly and indigent. Eugenius preferibes to himself many particular days of fasting and abftinence, in order to increase his private bank of charity, and fets afide what would be the current expences of thule times for the ufe of the poor. Ile often goes afcot where his bufinefs calls him, and at the end of his walk has given a fhilling, which in his ordinary methods of expence would have gone for coach-hire, to the first neceffitous perfon that has fallen in his way. I have known him when he has been going to a play or an opera, divert the money which was defigned for that purpofe, upon an object of charity whom he has met with in the ftreet; and afterwards pafs his evening in a coffee houfe, or at a friend's fire-fide, with much greater fatisfaction to himfelf than he could have received from the most exquifite entertainments of the theatre. By thefe means he is generous, without impoverishing himfelf, and enjoys his eftate by making it the property of others. There are few men fo cramped in their private affairs, who may not be charitable after this manner, without any difadvantage to themfelves, or prejudice to their families. It is but fometimes facrificing a diverfion or convenience to the poor, and turning the ufual courfe of our expences into a better channel. This is, I think, not only the most prudent and convenient, but the most meritorious piece of charity, which we can put in practice. By this method we in fome meafure fhare the neceffities of the poor at the fame time that we relieve them, and make ourfelves not only their patrons, but their fellowfufferers. Sir Thomas Brown, in the laft part of his Religio Medici, in which he defcribes his charity in feveral heroic inflances, and with a noble heat of fentiments, mentions that verfe in the proverbs of Solomon, "He that giveth to the 6 poor, lendeth to the Lord:"There is more rhetoric in that one fentence, fays he, than in a library of fermons; and indeed if thofe fentences were underflood by the reader, with the fame emphafis as they are delivered by the author, we needed not thofe volumes of infiructions, but might be honeft by an epitome.', This paflage in feripture is indeed wonderfully perfuafive; but I think the fame thought is carred much farther in the New Teftament, where our Saviour tells us in the most pathetic manner, that he thall hereafter regard the clothing of the naked, the feeding of the hungry, and the vifiting of the imprifoned, as offices done to himfelf, and reward them accordingly. Purivant to thofe paffages in Holy Scripture, I have fomewhere met with the epitaph of a charitable man, which has very much pleafed me. I cannot recollect the words, but the fenfe of it is to this purpele: Gg 66 purpofe; What I fpent I loft; what I poffeffed is left to others; what I gave away remains with me. Since I am thus infenfibly engaged in facred writ, I cannot forbear making an extract of feveral paffages which I have always read with great delight in the book of Job. It is the account which that holy man gives of his behaviour in the days of his profperity, and if confidered only as a human compofition, is a finer picture of a charitable and good-natured man than is to be met with in any other author. "Oh that I were as in months paft, as in the "days when God preferved me: when his can"dle fhined upon my head, and when by his "light I walked through darknefs: when the "Almighty was yet with me; when my chil"dren were about me: when I washed my 66 fteps with butter, and the rock poured out rivers of oil. "6 thy of you to fpeak of that torture in the breaft of a man, and not to mention alfo the pangs of it in the heart of a woman. You have very judiciously, and with the greatest penetration imaginable, confidered it as woman is the creature of whom the diffidence is raifed: but 'not a word of a man, who is fo unmerciful as 'to move jealoufy in his wife, and not care whether fhe is fo or not. It is poffible you may not believe there are fuch tyrants in the world; but alas, I can tell you of a man who is ever out of humour in his wife's company, and the pleasanteft man in the world every where elfe; the greatest floven at home when he appears to none but his family, and moft exactly welldreffed in all other places. Alas, Sir, is it of 'courfe, that to deliver one's felf wholly into a 'man's power, without poffibility of appeal to 6 C < ¿ any other jurifdiction but his own reflections, is fo little an obligation to a gentleman, that 'he can be offended and fall into a rage, becaufe < my heart fwells tears into my eyes when I fee him in a cloudy mood? I pretend to no fuccour, and hope for no relief but from himself; and yet he that has fenfe and juftice in every thing elfe, never reflects, that to come home only to fleep off an intemperance, and fpend all the time he is there as if it were a punish. ment, cannot but give the anguish of a jealous mind. He always leaves his home as if he were going to court, and returns as if he were entering a gao!. I could add to this, that from his company and his ufual difcourfe, he does not fcruple being thought an abandoned man, ( as to his morais. Your own imagination will fay enough to you concerning the condition of < 6 6 me his wife; and I wifh you would be fo good N° 178. MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24. POPE. Mr. SPECTATOR, Am but to good a judge of your Paper of the 15th infant, which is a mafter-piece; I mean that of jealoufy; but I think it unwoT 86 (6 "When the ear heard me, then it bleffed me; "and when the eye faw me, it gave witnefs to me. Because I delivered the poor that cried, "and the fatherless, and him that had none to "help him. The blefling of him that was rea"dy to perifh came upon me, and I caufed the "widow's heart to fing for joy. I was eyes to "the blind, and feet was I to the lame; I was "c a father to the poor, and the caufe which I "knew not I fearched out. Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my foul "grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in "an even balance, that God may know my in"tengrity. If I did defpife the caufe of my man-fervant or of my maid- fervant when they " contended with me; what then fhall I do when "God rifeth up? and when he vititeth, what "thall I anfwer him? Did not he that made me "in the womb, make him? and did not one "fafhion us in the womb? If I have withheld "the poor from their defire, or have caufed the "eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten my "morfel myfelf alone, and the fatherlefs have "not eaten thereof: if I have feen any perish "for want of cloathing, or any poor without "covering: if his loins have not bleffed me, "and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my fheep: If I have lift up my hand again ft "the fatherlefs, when I faw my help in the "gate; then let mine arm fall from my fhoulder"blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. "If I have rejoiced at the deftru&tion of him "that hated me, or lift up myfelf when evil "found him: neither have I fuffered my mouth to fin, by wifhing a curfe to his foul. The "ftranger did not lodge in the ftreet; but I "opened my doors to the traveller. If my land "cry against me, or that the furrows likewife "thereof complain: if I have eaten the fruits "thereof without money, or have caufed the "owners thereof to lofe their life: let thiftles C grow instead of wheat, and cockle inftead of barley." 66 · as to reprefent to him, for he is not ill-natured, ' and reads you much, that the moment I hear the door fhut after him, I throw myself upon C I my bed, and drown the child he is fo fond of with my tears, and often frighten it with my cries; that I curfe my being; that I run to my 'glafs all over bathed in forrows, and help the utterance of my inward anguifh by beholding the guth of my own calamities as my tears fall 'from my eyes. This looks like an imagined C " picture to tell you, but indeed this is one of my paftimes. Hitherto I have only told you the general temper of my mind, but how fhall I give you an account of the distraction of it? Could you but conceive how cruel I am one moment in my refentment, and at the ensuing minute, when I place him in the condition my 'anger would bring him to, how compaffionate; it would give you fome notion how miferable I am, and how little I deserve it. When I re'monftrate with the greatest gentleness that is poffible against unhandfome appearances, and that married perfons are under particular rules; when he is in the best humour to receive this, 'I am anfwered only, that I expofe my own re'putation and fenfe if I appear jealous, I wish, C good Sir, you would take this into ferious confideration, and admonish hufbands and wives 'what terms they ought to keep towards each other. Your thoughts on this important fub'ject will have the greatest reward, that which 'defcends on fuch as feel the forrows of the afficted. Give me leave to fubfcribe myself, Your unfortunate, humble fervant, CELIND A.’ I had it in my thoughts, before I received the letter of this lady, to confider this dreadful paf fion in the mind of a woman; and the fmart the feems to feel does not abate the inclination I had to recommend to husbands a more regular behaviour, than to give the moft exquifite of torments to those who love them, nay whofe torment would be abated if they did not love them. It is wonderful to obferve how little is made of this inexpreffible injury, and how easily men get into an habit of being leaft agreeable where they are most obliged to be fo. But this fubject deferves a diftinct fpeculation, and I fhall obferve for a day or two the behaviour of two or three happy pairs I am acquainted with, before I pretend to make a system of conjugal morality. I design in the first place to go a few miles out of town, and there I know where to meet one who practifes all the parts of a fine gentleman in the duty of an husband. When he was a bachelor much bufinefs made him particularly negligent in his habit; but now there is no young lover living fo exact in the care of his perfon. One who asked why he was fo long washing his mouth, and fo delicate in the choice and wearing of his linen, was answered, because there is a woman of Merit obliged to receive me kindly, and I think it incumbent upon me to make her inclination go along with her duty. If a man would give himself leave to think, he would not be fo unreafenable as to expect debauchery and innocence could live in commerce together; or hope that flesh and blood is capable of fo ftrict an allegiance, as that a fine woman must go on to improve herself until the is as good and impaffive as an angel, only to preserve a fidelity to a brute and a fatyr. The lady who defires me for her fake to end one of my papers with the following letter, I am perfuaded, thinks fuch a perfeverance very impracticable. < HUSBAND, TAY more at home. I know where you ST vifited at feven of the clock on Thursday evening. The colonel whom you charged me ⚫ to fee no more, is in town. 'Martha Housewife." N° 179. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25. under two vifions, the mercurial and the faturnine. The firft are the gay part of my difciples, who require fpeculations of wit and humour; the others are thofe of a more folemn and fober turn, who pleasure but in papers of morality and found fenfe. The former call every thing that is fcrious ftupid; the latter look upon every thing as impertinent that is ludicrous. Were I always grave, one half of my readers would fall off from me : were I always merry, I fhould lofe the other. I make it therefore my endeavour to find out en tertainments of both kinds, and by that means perhaps confult the good of both, more than I fhould do, did I always write to the particular taste of either. As they neither of them know what I proceed upon, the fprightly reader, who takes up my paper in order to be diverted, very often finds himself engaged unawares in a ferious and profitable courfe of thinking; as on the contrary, the thoughtful man, who perhaps may hope to find something folid, and full of deep reflection, is very often infenfibly betrayed into a fit of mirth. In a word, the reader fits down to my entertainment without knowing his bill of fate, and has therefore at leaft the pleafure of hoping there may be a difh to his palate. I must confefs, were I left to myself, I should rather aim at inftru&ting than diverting; but if we will be useful to the world, we must take it as we find it. Authors of profeffed feverity difcourage the loofer part of mankind from having any thing to do with their writings. A man must have virtue in him, before he will enter upon the reading of a Seneca or an Epictetus. The very title of a moral treatise has fomething in it auftere and fhocking to the careless and inconfiderate. For this reafon feveral unthinking perfons fall in my way, who would give no attention to lectures delivered with a religious ferioufnefs or a philofophic gravity. They are infnared into fentiments of wisdom and virtue when they do not think of it; and if by that means they arrive only at fuch a degree of confideration as may difpofe them to liften to more ftudied and claborate difcourfes, I fhall not think my fpeculations ufelefs. I might likewife obferve, that the gicominets in which fometimes the minds of the beft men are involved, very often ftands in need of fuch little incitements to mirth and laughter, as are apt to disperse melancholy, and put our faculties in good humour. To which fome will other, makes entertainments of this nature in a add, that the British climate, more than any manner neceffary. If what I have here faid does not recommend, it will at least excufe the variety of my speculations. I would not willingly laugh but in order to inftruct, or if I fometimes fail in this point, when my mirth ceafes to be inftructive, it shall never ceafe to be innocent. A fcrupulous conduct in this particular, has, perhaps, more inerit in it than the generality of readers imagine; did they know how many thoughts occur in a point of humour, which a difcreet author in modesty fuppreffes; how many ftrokes of raillery prefent themselves, which could not fail to please the or. dinary taste of mankind, but are ftifled in their birth by reafon of fome remote tendency which they carry in them to corrupt the minds of those who read them; did they know how many glan. ces of ill-nature are induftrioufly avoided for of to the of they would be apt to think kindly of thofe writers who endeavour to make themselves diverting, without being immoral. One may apply to these authors that paffage in Waller, "Poets lofe half the praife they would have gor, "Were it but known what they difcreetly blot." As nothing is more easy than to be a wit with all the above-mentioned liberties, it requires fome genius and invention to appear fuch without them, What Gga What I have here faid is not only in regard to the public, but with an eye to my particular correfpondent, who has fent me the following letter, which I have caftrated in fome places upon thefe confiderations. SIR, feen difcourfe upon a match of grinning, I cannot forbear giving you an account of a whistling match, which, with many others, I was entertained with about 'three years fince at the Bath. The prize was a guinea, to be conferred upon the ableft whistler, that is, on him who could whiftle clearest, and < go through his tune without laughing, to which at the fame time he was provoked by the antic 'postures of a Merry- Andrew, who was to ftand upon the ftage, and play his tricks in the eye of the performer. There were three compe N° 180. WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 26. titors for the guinea. The first was a plough- The people fuffer when the prince offends. man of a very promising aspect; his features were fteady, and his mufcles compofed in fo inficxible a ftupidity, that upon his first appearance every one gave the guinea for loft. The pickled herring however found the way to fhake him; for upon his whiftling a country jig, this unlucky wag danced to it with fuch variety of diftortions and grimaces, that the countryman could not forbear fmiling upon him, and by that means fpoiled his while, and loft the prize. 6 ८ The next that mounted the ftage was an under-citizen of the Bath, a perfon remarkable among the inferior people of that place for his great wifdom and his broad band. He contraced his mouth with much gravity, and, that he might difpofe his mind to be more ferious than ordinary, began the tune of "The "children in the wood," and went through part of it with good fuccefs; when on a fudden the wit at his elbow, who had appeared wonderfully grave and attentive for fome time, gave him a touch upon the left shoulder, and ftared him in the face with fo bewitching a grin, that C the whiftler relaxed his fibres into a kind of imper, and at length burst out into an open laugh. The third who entered the lifts was a footman, who in defiance of the MerryAndrew, and all his arts, whiled a Scotch tune and an Italian fonata, with fo fettled a countenance, that he bore away the prize, to the great admiration of fome hundreds of perfons, who, as well as myfelf, were prefent at this trial of kill. Now, Sir, I humbly conceive, whatever you have determined of the grinners, the whiftlers ought to be encouraged, not only as their art is practifed without diftortion, but as it improves country mufic, promotes gravity, and teaches crdinary people to keep their countenances, if they fee any thing ridiculous in their betters; befides that, it feems an entertainment very particularly adapted to the Bath, as it is ufual for a rider ( to whifde to his horfe when he would make his waters pass.' K I am, Sir, &c.' at the house of a very worthy gentleman, who always entertains his tenants at that time of the year. They yawn for a Chefhire-cheese, and begin about midnight, when the whole comis difpofed to be drowsy. He that yawns pany wideft, and at the fame time fo naturally as to produce the moft yawns among the spectators, carries home the cheese. If you handle this fubject as you ought, I queftion not but your · paper will fet half the kingdom a yawning, though I dare promife you it will never make any body fall afleep.' L CREECH. HE following letter has fo much weight T and good fenfe, that I cannot forbear inferting it, though it relates to an hardened finner, whom I have very little hopes of reforming, viz. Lewis XIV. of France. POSTSCRIPT. After having difpatched thefe two important points of grinning and whittling, I hope you will oblige the world with fome reflections upon yawning, as I have feen it pradifed on a twelfth fight among other Christmas gambols 5 • Mr. Spectator, A Midft the variety of fubjects of which you have treated, I could wish it had fallen in your way, to expofe the vanity of conquefts. This thought would naturally lead one to the French King, who has been generally esteemed the greatest conqueror of our age, until her Majefty's armies had torn from him fo many of his countries, and deprived him of the fruit of all his former victories. For my own part, if I were to draw his picture, I 'fhould be for taking him no lower than to the peace of Ryfwick, juft at the end of his triumphs, and before his reverfe of fortune: and < even then I fhould not forbear thinking his ambition had been vain and unprofitable to himself and his people. As for himfelf, it is certain he can have gained nothing by his conquefts, if they have < not rendered him mafter of more fubjects, more riches, or greater power. What I fhall be able to offer upon thefe heads, I refolve to fubmit to 6 your confideration. To begin then with his increase of subje&s. From the time he came of age, and has been a mariager for himfelf, all the people he had acquired were fuch only as he had reduced by his wars, and were left in his poffeffion by the peace; he had conquered not above one third part of Flanders, and confequently no more than one third part of the inhabitants of that province. 6 6 About 100 years ago the houfes in that country were all numbered, and by a just computation the inhabitants of all forts could not then exceed 750,000 fouls. And if any man ⚫ will conûder the defolation by almoft perpetual wars, the numerous armies that have lived almoft ever fince at difcretion upon the people, and how much of their commerce has been removed for more fecurity to other places, he will have little reafon to imagine that their numbers have fince increafed; and therefore with one third part of that province that prince can have gained no more than one third part of the inhabitants, or 250,000 new fubjects, • even |
