less rich, If you go to his house you see great plenty; but served in a manner that shews it is all unnatural, and that the master's mind is not at home. There is a certain waste and carelesfness in the air of every thing, and the whole appears but a covered indigence, a magnificent poverty. That neatness and chearfulness which at tends the table of him who lives within compass, is wanting, and exchanged for a libertine way of service in all about him. This gentleman's conduct, though a very common way of management, is as ridiculous as that officer's would be, who had but few men under his command, and should take the charge of an extent of country rather than of a small pass. To pay for, perfonate, and keep in a man's hands, a greater eftate than he really has, is of all others the most unpardonable vanity, and must in the end reduce the man who is guilty of it to dishonour. Yet if we look round us in any county of Great Britain, we shall see many in this fatal error; if that may be called by so soft a name, which proceeds from a false shame of appearing what they really are, when the contrary behaviour would in a short time advance them to the condition which they pretend to. Laertes has fifteen hundred pounds a year, which is mortgaged for fix thousand pounds; but it is impoffible to convince him that if he fold as much as would pay off that debt, he would fave four shillings in the pound, which he gives for the vanity of being the reputed master of it. Yet if Laertes did this, he would, perhaps, be caner in his own fortune; but then Irus, a fellow of yesterday, who has but twelve hundred a year, would be his equal. Rather than this shall be, Laertes goes on to bring well-born beggars into the world, and every twelvemonth charges his estate with at least one year's rent more by the birth of a child. L Laertes and Irus are neighbours, whose way of living are an abomination to each other. Irus is moved by the fear of poverty, and Laertes by the hame of it. Though the motive of action is of so near affinity in both, and may be resolved into this, " that to each of them poverty is the great" est of all evils," yet are their manners very widely different, Shame of poverty makes Laertes launch into unnecessary equipage, vain expence, and lavish entertainments; fear of poverty makes Irus allow himself only plain neceffaries, appear without a servant, fell his own corn, attend his labourers, and be himself à labourer. Shame of poverty makes Laertes go every day a step nearer to it; and fear of poverty tirs up Irus to make every day some further progress from it. These different motives produce the excesses which men are guilty of in the negligence of and provifion for themselves. Ufury, stock-jobbing, extortion and oppreffion, have their feed in the dread of want; and vanity, riot, and prodigality, from the shame of it: but both these excesses are infinitely below the pursuit of a reasonable creature. After we have taken care to command so much as is necessary for maintaining ourselves in the order of men fuitable to our character, the care of superfluities is a vice no less extravagant, than the neglect of necessaries would have been before. Certain it is, that they are both out of nature, when the is followed with reason and good sense, It is from this reflection that I always read Mr. Cowley with the greatest pleasure; his magnanimity is as much above that of other confiderable men, as his understanding; and it is a true diftinguishing spirit in the elegant author who published his works, to dwell so much upon the temper of his mind and the moderation of his defires by this means he has rendered his friend as amiable as famous. That state of life which bears the face of poverty with Mr. Cowley's great Vulgar, is admirably defcribed; and it is no small fatisfaction to those of the fame turn of de. fire, that he produces the authority of the wisest men of the best age of the world, to strengthen his opinion of the ordinary pursuits of mankind. It would methinks be no ill maxim of life, if according to that ancestor of Sir Roger, whom I lately mentioned, every man would point to himself what fum he would refolve not to exceed. He might by this means cheat himself into a tranquillity on this fide of that expectation, or convert what he should get above it to nobler uses than his own pleasures or necessities. This temper of mind would exempt a man from an ignorant envy of restless men above him, and a more inexcusable contempt of happy men below him. This would be failing by some compass, living with some design; but to be eternally be. wildered in prespects of future gain, and putting on unnecessary armour against improbable blows of fortune, is a mechanic being which has not good sense for its direction, but is carried on by a fort of acquired instinct towards things below our confideration and unworthy our esteem. It is possible that the tranquillity I now enjoy at Sir Roger's may have created in me this way of thinking, which is so abstracted from the common relish of the world; but as I am now in a pleasing arbour furrounded with a beautiful landscape, I find no inclination so strong as to continue in these manfions, so remote from the oftentatious scenes of life; and am at this present writing phi lofopher enough to conclude with Mr. Cowley "If e'er ambition did my fancy cheat, "With any wish so mean as to be great; Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove "The humble bleffings of that life I love. B ODILY labour is of two kinds, either that which a man submits to for his livelihood or that which he undergoes for his pleasure. The latter of them generally changes the name of labour for that of exercise, but differs only from ordinary labour as it rifes from another motive. A country life abounds in both these kinds of labour, and for that reason gives a man a greater stock of health, and consequently a more perfect enjoyment of himself, than any other way of life. I confider the body as a system of tubes and glands, or to use a more rustic phrase, a bundle of pipes and strainers, fitted to one another after fo wonderful a manner as to make a proper engine for the foul to work with. This description does not only comprehend the bowels, bones, tendons, veins, nerves and arteries, but every muscle and every ligature, which is a compofition of fibres, that are fo many imperceptible tubes or pipes interwoven on all fides with invisible glands or trainers. voine ! This general idea of a human body, without confidering it in its niceties of anatomy, lets us fee how abfolutely necessary labour is for the right prefervation of it. There must be frequent motions and agitations, to mix, digeft, and separate the juices contained in it, as well as to clear and cleanfe that infinitude of pipes and strainers of which it is compofed, and to give their solid parts a more firm and lasting tone. Labour or exercise ferments the humours, casts them into their proper channels, throws off redundancies, and helps nature in those secret distributions, without which the body cannot subsist in its vigour, nor the foul act with chearfulness. I might here mention the effects which this has upon all the faculties of the mind, by keeping the understanding clear, the imagination untroubled, and refining those spirits that are neceffary for the proper exertion of our intellectual faculties, during the prefent laws of uuion between foul and body. It is to a neglect in this particular that we must ascribe the fpleen, which is fo frequent in men of studious and fedentary tempers, as well as the vapours to which those of the other sex are so often fubjea Had not exercise been abfolutely necessary for our well-being, nature would not have made the body fo proper for it, by giving such an activity to the limbs, and such a pliancy to every part as neceffariły produce those compreffions, extenfions, contortions, dilatations, and all other kinds of motions that are necessary for the preservaof fuch a system of tubes and glands as has been before mentioned. And that we might not want inducements to engage us in such an exercise of the body as is proper for its welfare, it is so ordered that nothing valuable can be produced without it. Not to mention riches and honour, even food and raiment are not to be come at without the toil of the hands and sweat of the brows. Providence furnishes materials, but expects that we should work them up ourselves. The earth must be laboured before it gives its increase, and when it is forced into its several products, how many hands must they pass through before they are fit for use? Manufactures, trade, and agriculture, naturally employ more than nineteen parts of the species in twenty; and as for those who are not obliged to labour, by the condition in which they are born, they are more miferable than the rest of mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary labour which goes by the name of ex ercife. My friend Sir Roger has been an indefatigable man of business of this kind, and has hung feveral parts of his house with the trophies of his former labours. The walls of his great hall are covered with the horns of feveral kinds of deer that he has killed in the chace, which he thinks the most valuable furniture of his house, as they afford him frequent topics of discourse, and shew that he has not been idle. At the lower end of the hall is a large otter's skin stuffed with hay, which his mother ordered to be hung up in that manner, and the knight looks upon with great fatisfaction, because it stems he was but nine years old when his dog killed him. A little room adjoining to the hall is a kind of arsenal filled with guns of several fizes and inventions, with which the knight has made great havock in the woods, and destroyed many thousands of pheasants, partridges, and woodcocks. His stable doors are patched with noses that belonged to foxes of the knight's own hunting down. Sir Roger shewed me one of them that for distinction fake has a brass nail struck through it, which cost him about fifteen hours riding, carried him through half a dozen counties, killed him a brace of geldings, and lost above half his dogs. This the knight looks upon as one of the greatest exploits of his life. The perverse widow, whom I have given some account of, was the death of several foxes; for Sir Roger has told me, that in the course of his amours he patched the western door of his stable. Whenever the widow was cruel, the foxes were fure to pay for it. In proportion as his paffion for the widow abated and old age came on, he left off fox-hunting; but a hare is not yet safe that fits within ten miles of his house. There is no kind of exercise which I would fo recommend to my readers of both fexes as this of riding, as there is none which so much conduces to health, and is every way accommodated to the body, according to the idea which I have given of it. Doctor Sydenham is very lavith in its praifes; and if the English reader will fee the mechanical effects of it described at length, he may find them in a book published not many years ince, under the title of Medicina Gymnastica. For my own part, when I am in town, for want of thefe opportunities, I exercise myself an hour every morning upon a dumb bell that is placed in a corner of my room, and pleases me the more, because it does every thing I require of it in the most profound silence. My landlady and her daughters are so well acquainted with my hours of exercise, that they never come into my room to disturb me whilst I am ringing. When I was fome years younger than I am at present, I used to employ myself in a more laborious diversion, which I learned from a Latin treatise of exercises, that is written with great erudition: it is there called the σκιομαχία, οι the fighting with a man's own shadow, and consists in the brandishing two short sticks grafped in each hand, and loaden with plugs of lead at either end. This opens the chest, exercises the limbs, and gives a man all the pleasure of boxing without the blows. I could wish that several learned men would lay out that time which they employ in controverfies and disputes about nothing, in this method of fighting with their own shadows. It might conduce very much to evaporate the spleen, which makes them uneasy to the public as well as to themselves. To conclude, as I am a compound of foul and body, I consider myself as obliged to a double scheme of duties; and think I have not fulfilled the business of the day when I do not thus employ the one in labour and exercise, as well as the other in study and contemplation. L No. No 116. FRIDAY, JULY 13. -Vocat ingenti clamore Cithæron, Virg. Georg. 3. V. 43- T HOSE who have searched into human nature obferve that nothing so much thews the nobleness of the foul, as that its felicity confifts in action. Every man has such an active principle in him, that he will find out fomething to employ himself upon, in whatever place or state of life he is posted. I have heard of a gentleman who was under close confinement in the Bastile seven years; during which time he amused himself in scattering a few small pins about his chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them in different figures on the arm of a great chair. He often told his friends afterwards, that unless he had found out this piece of exercise, he verily believed he should have lost his senses. After what has been said, I need not inform my readers, that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope they are all pretty well acquainted, has in his youth gone through the whole course of those rural diverfions with which the country abounds here in a far greater degree than in towns and citics. I have before hinted at feme of my friend's exploits: he has in his youthful days taken forty coveys of partridges in a season; and tired, many a falmon with a line confifting but of a fingle hair. The conftant thanks and good wishes of the neighbourhood always.attended him, on account of his remarkable enmity towards foxes, having destroyed more of those vermin in one year, than it was thought the whole country could have produced. Indeed the knight does not fcruple to own among his intimate friends, that in order to establish his reputation this way, he has fecretly fent for great numbers of them out of other counties, which he used to turn loose about the country by night, that he might the better fignalize himself in their destruction the next day. His hunting-horses were the finest and best managed in all these parts: his tenants are still full of the praises of a grey stone-horfe that unhappily staked himself several years fince, and was buried with great folemnity in the orchard. Sir Roger, being at present too old for foxhunting, to keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles and got a pack of Stop-Hounds. What these want in speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the deepness of their mouths and the variety of their notes, which are suited in such a manner to each other, that the whole cry makes a complete confort. He is so nice in this particular, that a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the knight returned it by the servant with a great many expressions of civility; but defired him to tell his master, that the dog he had fent was indeed a most excellent bass, but that at present he only wanted a counter-tenor. Could I believe my friend had read over Shakespear, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint from Theseus in the Midsummer Night's Dream. My hounds are bred of the Spartan kind, So flu'd fo fanded; and their heads are bung: "With ears that sweep away the morning dew. "Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouths like Sir Roger is so keen at this sport, that he has been out almost every day fince I came down; and upon the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday morning to make one of the company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence of all the neighbourhood towards my friend. The farmers fons thought themselves, happy if they could open a gate for the good old knight as he passed by; which he generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind enquiry after their fathers and uncles. After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a large heath, and the sportsmen be gan to beat. They had done fo for fome time, when, as I was at a little diftance from the reft of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a small furze-brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked the way the took, which I endeavoured to make the company sensible of by extending my arm; but to no purpose, until Sir Roger, who knows that none of my exraordinary motions are infignificant, rode up to me, and asked me if puis was gone that way?" Upon my anfwering "Yes," he immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country-follows matter. ing to his companion, "that it was a wonder "they had not lost all their sport, for want of "the filent gentleman's crying fiole away." This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me withdraw to a rifing ground, from whence I could have the pleasure of the whole chace, without the fatigue of keeping in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them above a mile behind her; but I was pleased to find, that instead of running ftraight forwards, or in hunter's language, "flying the country," as I was afraid the might have done, she wheeled about, and described a fort of circle round the hill where I had taken my station, in such manner as gave me a very distinct view of the sport, I could fee her first pass by, and the dogs fome time afterwards unravelling the whole track he had made, and following her through all hor doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according to the character he had acquired amongst them: If they were at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole cry; while a raw dog, or one who was a neted liar, might have yelped his heart out, without being taken notice of. The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, and been put up again as often, came ftill nearer to the place where the was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly knight, whe rode upon a white gelding, encompatted by his tenants and servants, and cheering his hounds with all the gaiety of five and twenty. One of the sports. men rode up to me, and told me, that he was fure the chace was almost at an end, because the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed U headed the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just under us, followed by the full cry in view. I must confefs the brightness of the weather, the chearfulness of every thing around me, the chiding of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double echo from two neighbouring hills, with the hallooing of the sportsman, and the founding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was fure it was innocent. If I was under any concern, it was on account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent, and almost within the reach of her ene mies; when the huntsman getting forward threw down his pole before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours; yet on the fignal before-mentioned they all made a fud. den stand, and though they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pafs beyond the pole. At the fame time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting, took up the hare in his arms; which he foon delivered up to one of his fervants with an order, if the could be kept alive, to let her go in his great orchard; where it feems he has feveral of these prifoners of war, who live together in a very comfortable captivity. I was highly pleased to see the difcipline of the pack, and the good-nature of the knight, who could not find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him fo much diversion. As we were returning home, I remembered that Monfieur Pafchal, in his moft excellent dif. course on the Mifery of Man, tells us, "That "all our endeavours after greatness, proceed " from nothing but a defire of being furrounded by a multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder us from looking into ourselves, which " is a view we cannot bear." He afterwards goes to shew that our love of sports comes from the fame reafon, and is particularly fevere upon Hunting. "What," says he, unless it be to drown "thought, can make them throw away fo much time and pains upon a dily animal, which "they might buy cheaper in the market?" The foregoing reflection is certainly just, when a man fuffers his whole mind to be drawn into his fports, and altogether loses himself in the woods; but does not affect those who propofe a far more laudable end for this exercise, I mean the prefervation of health, and keeping all the organs of the foul in a condition to execute their orders. Had that incomparable perion, whom I last quo ted, been a little more indulgent to himself in this point, the world might probably have enjoyed him much longer; whereas through too great an application to his studies in his youth, The contracted tha ill habit of body, which, after a tedious fickness, carried him off in the fortieth year of his age; and the whole hiftory we have of his life until that time, is but one continued account of the behaviour of a noble foul ftruggling under innumerable pains and distempers. For my own part, I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay with Sir Roger; and thall prescribe the moderate ufe of this exercise to all my country friends, as the best kind of phyfic for mending a bad conftitution, and preferving a good one. I cannot do this better than in the following lines out of Mr. Dryden. "The first physicians by debauch were made; Exeefs began, and floth sustains the trade. "Bychace our long-liv'd fatliers earn'd their food, "Toil strung the nerves, and purify'd the blood; "But we their fons, a pamper'd race of men, "Are dwindled down to threefcore years and ten. "Eetter to hunt in fields for health unbought, "Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. "The wife for cure on exercise depend; "God never made his work for man to mend.". X No 117. SATURDAY, JULY 14. T HERE are fome opinions in which a man should stand neuter, without engaging his affent to one fide or the other. Such a hovering faith as this, which refufes to fettle upon any determination, is absolutely necessary in a mind that is careful to avoid errors and prepoffeffions. When the arguments press equally on both fides in ma ters that are indifferent to us, the fafeft method is to give up ourselves to neither. It is with this temper of mind that I confider the fubject of witchcraft.. When I hear the relations that are made from all parts of the world, not only from Norway and Lapland, from the East and West-Indies, but from every particular nation in Europe, I cannot forbear thinking that there is fuch an intercourse and commerce with evil spirits, as that which we express by the name of witchcraft. But when I confider that the ignorant and credulous parts of the world abound most in these relations, and that the persons among us, who are supposed to engage in such an infernal commerce, are people of a weak understanding and crazed imagination, and at the same time reflect upon the many impoftures and delufions of this nature that have been detected in all ages, I endeavour to fufpend my belief until I hear more certain accounts than any which have yet come to my knowledge. In short, when I confider the question, whether there are fuch persons in the world as those we call witches, my mind is divided between the two oppofite opinions; or rather, to speak my thoughts freely, I believe in general that there is, and has been fuch a thing as witcheraft; but at the fame time can give no credit to any particular instance of it. I am engaged in this speculation, by fome occurrences that I met with yesterday, which I shall give my reader an account of at large. As I was walking with my friend Sir Roger by the fide of one of his woods, an old woman applied herself to me for my charity. Her dress and figure put me in mind of the following defeription in Otway. "In a close lane as I pursu'd my journey, "I fpy'd a wrinkled Hag, with age grown double. "Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herfelf. "Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall'd and "red; "Cold pally thook her head; her hands seem'd "withered; "And on her crooked shoulders had the wrapp'd "The tatter'd remnants of an old strip'd hanging, "Which ferv'd to keep her carcafe from the cold; "So there was nothing of a piece about her. "Her lower weeds were all o'er coarfsly patch'd "With diff'rent colour'd rags, black, red, white, "yellow, "And feem'd to speak variety of wretchedness. As As I was musing on this defcription, and comparing it with the object before me, the knight told me, that this very old woman had the reputation of a witch all over the country, that her lips were obferved to be always in motion, and that there was not a switch about her house which her neighbours did not believe had car ried her several hundreds of miles. If she chanced to stumble, they always found sticks or straws that lay in the figure of a cross before her. If The made any mistake at church, and cryed Amen in a wrong place, they never failed to conclude that she was saying her prayers backwards. gant fancies, imaginary distempers and terrifying dreams. In the mean time, the poor wretch that is the innocent occafion of fo many evils begins to be frighted at herself, and sometimes confeffes fecret commerce and familiarities that her imagination forms in a delirious old age. This frequently cuts off charity from the greatest objects of compaffion, and inspires people with a malevolence towards those poor decrepid parts of our species, in whom human nature is defaced by in... firmity and dotage. There was not a maid in the parish that would N° 118. MONDAY, JULY 16. Hæret lateri lethalis arundo. L Virg. Æn. 4. v. 73. _ The fatal dart Sticks in his fide, and rankles in his heart. take a pin of her, though the should offer a bag ( This account raised my curiosity so far, that I begged my friend Sir Rager to go with me into her hovel, which stood in a folitary corner under the fide of the wood. Upon our first entering Sir Roger winked to me, and pointed at something that stood behind the door, which, upon looking that way, I found to be an old broomstaff. At the fame time he whispered me in the ear to take notice of a tabby cat that fat in the chimney-corner, which, as the old knight told me, lay under as bad a report as Moll White herself: for befides that Moll is faid often to accompany her in the fame shape, the cat is reported, to have fpoken twice or thrice in her life, and to have played feyeral pranks above the capacity of an ordinary cat. I was fecretly concerned to see human nature in so much wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same time could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who is a little puzzled about the old woman, advising her as a justice of peace to avoid all communication with the devil, and never to bhurt any of her neighbour's cattle. We concluded our yifit with a bounty, which was very acceptable. In our return home Sir Roger told me, that old Moll had been often brought before him for making children spit pins, and giving maids the night-mare; and that the country people would be tofing her into a pond and trying experiments with her every day, if it was not for him and his chaplain. I have fince found upon inquiry, that Sir Roger was several times staggered with the reports that had been brought him concerning this old woman, and would frequently have bound her over to the county-fetions, had not his chaplain with mach ado perfuaded him to the contrary, I have been the more particular in this ac count, because I hear there is searce a village in England that has not a Moll White in it. When an old woman begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a parith, the is generally turned into a witch, and falls the whole country with extrava T DRYDEN. HIS agreeable feat is furrounded with so many pleasing walks, which are struck out of a wood, in the midst of which the house stands, that one can hardly ever be weary of. rambling from one labyrinth of delight to another. To one used to live in a city the charms of the country are so exquifite, that the mind is loft in a certain transport which raises us above ordinary life, and is yet not strong enough to be inconfiftent with tranquillity. This state of mind was I in, ravished with the murmur of waters, the whisper of breezes, the finging of birds; and whether I looked up to the heavens, down on the earth, or turned on the profpects around me, still struck with new sense of pleasure; when I found by the voice of my friend, who walked by me, that we had insensibly strolled into the grove facred to the widow. This woman, says he, is of all others the most unintelligible; she either designs to marry, or the does not. What is the most perplexing of all, is, that the doth not either say to her lovers the has any resolution against that condition of life in general, or that the banishes them; but conscious of her own merit, she permits their addresses, without fear of any ill confequence, or want of respect, from their rage or defpair. She has that in her aspect, against which it is impoffible to offend. A man whose thoughts are constantly bent upon so agreeable an object, must be excused if the ordinary occurrences in converfa-tion are below his attention. I call her indeed perverse, but, alas! why do I call her fo? Because her fuperior merit is such, that I cannot approach her without awe, that my heart is checked by too much esteem; I am angry that her charms are not more acceffible, that I am more inclined to worship than falute her: how often have I wished her unhappy that I might have an opportunity of ferving her? and how often troubled in that very imagination, at giving her the pain of being obliged? Well, I have led a miferable life in secret upon her account; but fancy she would have condescended to have fome regard for me, if it had not been for that watch-fol animal her confident. Of all perfons under the fun, continued he, calling me by my name, be sure to fet a mark upon confidents: they are of all people the most impertinent. What is most pleasant to obferve in them, is, that they affume to themfolves the merit of the perfons whom they have in their cuftody. Orestilla is a great fortune, and in U2 wondertu |