At my leaving the coffee-house, I could not forbear reflecting with myself upon that gross tribe of fools who may be termed the over-wise, and upon the difficulty of writing anything in this censorious age which a weak head may not construe into private satire and personal reflection. A man who has a good nose at an iuuendo smells treason and sedition in the most innocent words that can be put together, and never sees a vice or folly stigmatized, but finds out one or other of his acquaintance pointed at by the writer. I remember an empty pragmatical fellow in the country, who, upon reading over "The Whole Duty of Man," had written the names of several persons in the village at the side of every sin which is mentioned by that excellent author; so that he had converted one of the best books in the world into a libel against the 'squire, churchwardens, overseers of the poor, and all the most considerable persons in the parish. This book, with these extraordinary marginal notes, fell accidentally into the hands of one who had never seen it before; upon which there arose a current report that somebody had written a book against the 'squire and the whole parish. The minister of the place, having at that time a controversy with some of his congregation upon the account of his tithes, was under some suspicion of being the author, until the good man set his people right, by showing them that the satirical passages might be applied to several others of two or three neighbouring villages, and that the book was written against all the sinners in England. throw into their account those innumerable rational beings which fetch their nourishment chiefly out of liquids; especially when we consider that men, compared with their fellow-creatures, drink much more than comes to their share. But, however highly this tribe of people may think of themselves, a drunken man is a greater monster than any that is to be found among all the creatures which God has made: as indeed there is no character which appears more despicable and deformed, in the eyes of all reasonable persons, than that of a drunkard. Bonosus, one of our own countrymen, who was addicted to this vice, having set up for a share in the Roman empire, and being defeated in a great battle, hanged himself. When he was seen by the army in this melancholy situation, notwithstanding he had behaved himself very bravely, the common jest was, that the thing they saw hanging upon the tree before them was not a man, but a bottle. This vice has very fatal effects on the mind, the body, and fortune, of the person who is devoted to it. In regard to the mind, it first of all discovers every flaw in it. The sober man, by the strength of reason, may keep under and subdue every vice or folly to which he is most inclined; but wine makes every latent seed sprout up in the soul, and show itself; it gives fury to the passions, and force to those objects which are apt to produce them. When a young fellow complained to an old philosopher that his wife was not handsome, "Put less water in your wine," says the philosopher, "and you will quickly make her so." Wine heightens indifference into love, love into jealousy, and jealousy into madness. It often turns the good-natured man into an idiot, and the choleric into an assassin. It gives bitterness to resentment, it makes vanity insupportable, and displays every little spot of the soul in its utmost deformity. No. 569.] MONDAY, JULY 19, 1714. Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis, Et torquere mero, quem perspexisse laborent, An sit amicitia dignus. HOR. Ars Poet. ver. 434. Wise were the kings who never chose a friend Till with full cups they had unmask'd his soul, And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.-RosCOMMON. Nor does this vice only betray the hidden faults No vices are so incurable as those which men are of a man, and show them in the most odious coapt to glory in. One would wonder how drunken- lours, but often occasions faults to which he is not ness should have the good luck to be of this number. naturally subject. There is more of turn than of Anacharsis, being invited to a match of drinking at truth in a saying of Seneca, that drunkenness does Corinth, demanded the prize very humorously, be- not produce but discover faults. Common experience cause he was drunk before any of the rest of the teaches us the contrary. Wine throws a man out of company; "for," says he, "when we run a race, he himself, and infuses qualities into the mind which who arrives at the goal first is entitled to the re- she is a stranger to in her sober moments. The ward;" on the contrary, in this thirsty generation, person you converse with after the third bottle, is the honour falls upon him who carries off the great-not the same man who at first sat down at table with est quantity of liquor, and knocks down the rest of the company. I was the other day with honest Will Funnell, the West Saxon, who was reckoning up how much liquor had passed through him in the last twenty years of his life, which, according to his computation, amounted to twenty-three hogsheads of October, four tons of port, half a kilderkin of small beer, nineteen barrels of cider, and three glasses of champagne; besides which he had assisted at four hundred bowls of punch, not to mention sips, drams, and whets without number. I question not but every reader's memory will suggest to him several ambitious young men who are as vain in this particular as Will Funnell, and can boast of as glorious exploits. Our modern philosophers observe, that there is a general decay of moisture in the globe of the earth. This they chiefly ascribe to the growth of vegetables, which incorporate into their own substance many fluid bodies that never return again to their former nature: but, with submission, they ought to you. Upon this maxim is founded one of the prettiest sayings I ever met with, which is ascribed to Publius Syrus, Qui, ebrium ludificat, lædit absentem." "He who jests upon a man that is drunk, iniures the absent." Thus does drunkenness act in direct contradiction to reason, whose business it is to clear the mind of every vice which is crept into it, and to guard it against all the approaches of any that endeavours to make its entrance. But besides these ill effects which this vice produces in the person who is actually under its dominion, it has also a bad influence on the mind even in its sober moments, as it insensibly weakens the understanding, impairs the memory, and makes those faults habitual which are produced by frequent excesses. I should now proceed to show the ill effects which this vice has on the bodies and fortunes of men; but these I shall reserve for the subject of some future paper. No. 570.] WEDNESDAY, JULY 21, 1714. deed between them they made a most extraordinary concert, Finding our landlord so great a proficient in kitchen music, I asked him if he was master of the tongs and key. He told me that he had laid THERE is scarcely a man living who is not ac-it down some years since as a little unfashiontuated by ambition. When this principle meets able: but that, if I pleased, he would give me a with an honest mind and great abilities, it does lesson upon the gridiron. He then informed me, infinite service to the world; on the contrary, when that he had added two bars to the gridiron, in order a man only thinks of distinguishing himself without to give it a greater compass of sound; and I per being thus qualified for it, he becomes a very perceived he was as well pleased with the invention, as nicious or a very ridiculous creature. I shall here Sappho could have been upon adding two strings to confine myself to that petty kind of ambition, by the lute. To be short, I found that his whole kitchen which some men grow eminent for odd accomplish-was furnished with musical instruments: and could ments and trivial performances. How many are not but look upon this artist as a kind of burlesque there whose whole reputation depends upon a pun musician. or a quibble? You may often see an artist in the streets gain a circle of admirers by carrying a long pole upon his chin or forehead in a perpendicular posture. Ambition has taught some to write with their feet, and others to walk upon their hands. Some tumble into fame, others grow immortal by throwing themselves through a hoop. Cætera de genere hoc (adeo sunt multa), loquacem I am led into this train of thought by an adventure I lately met with. I was the other day at a tavern, where the master of the house accommodating us himself with every thing we wanted, I accidentally fell into a discourse with him; and talking of a certain great man, who shall be nameless, he told me that he had sometimes the honour to treat him with a whistle; adding (by the way of parenthesis), "for you must know, gentlemen, that I whistle the best of any man in Europe." This naturally put me upon desiring him to give us a sample of his art; upon which he called for a case-knife, and applying the edge of it to his mouth, converted it into a musical instrument, and entertained me with an Italian solo. Upon laying down the knife, he took up a pair of clean tobaccopipes; and after having slid the small end of them over the table in a most melodious trill, he fetched a tune out of them, whistling to them at the same time in concert. In short, the tobacco-pipes became musical pipes in the hands of our virtuoso, who confessed to me, ingenuously, he had broken such quantities of them, that he had almost broke himself before he had brought this piece of music to any tolerable perfection. I then told him I would bring a company of friends to dine with him the next week, as an encouragement to his ingenuity; upon which he thanked me, saying that he would provide himself with a new frying-pan against that day. I replied, that it was no matter; roast and boiled would serve our turn. He smiled at my simplicity, and told me that it was his design to give us a tune upon it. As I was surprised at such a promise, he sent for an old frying-pan, and grating it upon the board, whistled to it in such a melodious manner, that you could scarcely distinguish it from a bass-viol. He then took his seat with us at the table, and, hearing my friend that was with me hum over a tune to himself, he told me if he would sing out, he would accompany his voice with a tobacco-pipe. As my friend has an agreeable bass, he chose rather to sing to the frying-pan, and in This man's name was Daintry. He was in the trained bands and cominonly known by the name of Captain Daintry. He afterward, of his own accord, fell into the imitation of several singing birds. My friend and toasted our mistresses to the nightingale, when all of a sudden we were surprised with the music of the thrush. He next proceeded to the sky-lark, mounting up by a proper scale of notes, and afterward falling to the ground with a very easy and regular descent. He then contracted his whistle to the voice of several birds of the smallest size. As he is a man of a larger bulk and higher stature than ordinary, you would fancy him a giant when you looked upon him, and a tom-tit when you shut your eyes. I must not omit acquainting my reader that this accom plished person was formerly the master of a toy. shop near Temple-bar; and that the famous Charles Mathers was bred up under him. I am told that the misfortunes which he has met with in the world are chiefly owing to his great application to his music; and therefore cannot but recommend him to my readers as one who deserves their favour, and may afford them great diversion over a bottle of wine, which he sells at the Queen's Arms, near the end of the little piazza in Covent-garden. "In your paper of Friday the ninth instant, you had occasion to consider the ubiquity of the Godhead, and at the same time to show, that, as he is present to everything, he cannot but be attentive to everything, and privy to all the modes and parts of its existence: or, in other words, that his omnis. cience and omnipresence are co-existent, and ruu together through the whole infinitude of space. This consideration might furnish us with many incentives to devotion, and motives to morality; but, as this subject has been handled by several excellent wri ters, I shall consider it in a light wherein I have not seen it placed by others. "First, How disconsolate is the condition of an intellectual being, who is thus present with his Maker, but at the same time receives no extraor dinary benefit or advantage from this his presence! Secondly, How deplorable is the condition of ar intellectual being, who feels no other effects from this his presence, but such as proceed from divine wrath and indignation! "Thirdly, How happy is the condition of that intellectual being, who is sensible of his Maker's presence, from the secret effects of his mercy and loving-kindness! First, How disconsolate is the condition of an intellectual being, who is thus present with his Maker, but at the same time receives no extraordinary benefit or advantage from this his presence! Every particle of matter is actuated by this Almighty Being which passes through it. The heavens and the earth, the stars and planets, move and gravitate by virtue of this great principle within them. All the dead parts of nature are invigorated by the presence of their Creator, and made capable of exerting their respective qualities. The several instincts, in the brute creation, do likewise operate and work towards the several ends which are agreeable to them by this divine energy. Man only, who does not co-operate with this Holy Spirit, and is unattentive to his presence, receives none of those advantages from it, which are perfective of his nature, and necessary to his well-being. The Divinity is with him, and in him, and every where about him, but of no advantage to him. It is the same thing to a man without religion, as if there were no God in the world. It is indeed impossible for an Infinite Being to remove himself from any of his creatures; but though he cannot withdraw his essence from us, which would argue an imperfection in him, he can withdraw from us all the joys and consolations of it. His presence may perhaps be necessary to support us in our existence; but he may leave this our existence to itself, with regard to its happiness or misery. For in this sense he may cast us away from his presence, and take his Holy Spirit from us. This single consideration one would think sufficient to make us open our hearts to all those infusions of joy and gladness which are so near at hand, and ready to be poured in upon us; especially when we consider, secondly, the deplorable condition of an intellectual being, who feels no other effects from his Maker's presence, but such as proceed from divine wrath and indignation. "We may assure ourselves that the great Author of nature will not always be as one who is indifferent to any of his creatures. Those who will not feel him in his love, will be sure at length to feel him in his displeasure. And how dreadful is the condition of that creature, who is only sensible of the being of his Creator by what he suffers from him! He is as essentially present in hell as in heaven; but the inhabitants of the former behold him only in his wrath, and shrink within the flames to conceal themselves from him. It is not in the power of imagination to conceive the fearful effects of Omnipotence incensed. "But I shall only consider the wretchedness of an intellectual being, who in this life lies under the displeasure of Him, that at all times and in all places is intimately united with him. He is able to disquiet the soul, and vex it in all its faculties. He can hinder any of the greatest comforts of life from refreshing us, and give an edge to every one of its slightest calamities. Who then can bear the thought of being an outcast from his presence, that is, from the comforts of it, or of feeling it only in its terrors? How pathetic is that expostulation of Job, when for the trial of his patience he was made to look upon himself in this deplorable condition! Why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am become a burden to myself?" But thirdly, how happy is the condition of that intellectual being, who is sensible of his Maker's presence from the secret effects of his mercy and loving-kindness! "The blessed in heaven behold him face to face, that is, are as sensible of his presence as we are of the presence of any person whom we look upon with our eyes. There is, doubtless, a faculty in spirits by which they apprehend one another as our senses do material objects; and there is no question but our souls, when they are disembodied, or placed in glorified bodies, will by this faculty, in whatever part of space they reside, be always sensible of the Divine presence. We, who have this veil of flesh standing between us and the world of spirits, must be content to know that the Spirit of God is present with us, by the effects which he produces in us. Our ontward senses are too gross to comprehend him; we may, however, taste and see how gracious he is, by his influence upon our minds, by those virtuous thoughts which he awakens in us, by those secret comforts and refreshments which he conveys into our souls, and by those ravishing joys and inward satisfactions which are perpetually springing up and diffusing themselves among all the thoughts of good men. He is lodged in our very essence, and is as a soul within the soul to irradiate its understanding, rectify its will, purify its passions, and enliven all the powers of man. How happy therefore is an intellectual being, who, by prayer and meditation, by virtue and good works, opens this communication between God and his own soul! Though the whole creation frowns upon him, and all nature looks black about him, he has his light and support within him, that are able to cheer his mind, and bear him up in the midst of all those horrors which encompass him. He knows that his helper is at hand, and is always nearer to him than any thing else can be, which is capable of annoying or terrifying him. In the midst of calumny or coLtempt he attends to that Being who whispers better things to his soul, whom he looks upon as his defender, his glory, and the lifter-up of his head. In his deepest solitude and retirement he knows that he is in company with the greatest of beings: and perceives within himself such real sensations of his presence, as are more delightful than any thing that can be met with in the conversation of his creatures. Even in the hour of death he considers the pains of his dissolution to be nothing else but the breaking down of that partition, which stands betwixt his soul and the sight of that Being who is always present with him, and is about to manifest itself to him in fulness of joy. We "If he would be thus happy, and thus sensible of our Maker's presence, from the secret effects of his mercy and goodness, we must keep such a watch over all our thoughts, that, in the language of the Scripture, his soul may have pleasure in us must take care not to grieve his Holy Spirit, and endeavour to make the meditations of our hearts always acceptable in his sight, that he may delight thus to reside and dwell in us. The light of nature could direct Seneca to this doctrine, in a very remarkable passage among his epistles: Sacer inest in nobis spiritus bonorum malorumque custos, et observator, et quemadmodum nos illum tractamus, ita et ille nos.” There is a holy spirit residing in us, who watches and observes both good and evil men, and will treat us after the same manner that we treat him.' But I shall conclude this discourse with thos HOR. 1. Ep. ii. 115. Physicians only boast the healing art. I AM the more pleased with those my papers, since I find they have encouraged several men of learning and wit to become my correspondents: I yesterday received the following essay against quacks, which I shall here communicate to my readers for the good of the public, begging the writer's pardon for those additions and retrenchments which I have made in it. rived their custom from an eastern nation which Herodotus speaks of, among whom it was a law, that whenever any cure was performed, both the method of the cure, and an account of the distemper, should be fixed in some public place: but, as customs will corrupt, these our moderns provide themselves of persons to attest the cure before they publish or make an experiment of the prescription. I have heard of a porter, who serves as a knight of the post under one of these operators, and though he was never sick in his life, has been cured of all the diseases in the dispensary. These are the men whose sagacity has invented elixirs of all sorts, pills, and lozenges, and take it as an affront if you come to them before you are given over by every body else. Their medicines are infallible, and never fail of success-that is, of enriching the doctor, and setting the patient effectually at rest. I lately dropped into a coffee-house at Westminster, where I found the room hung round with "The desire of life is so natural and strong a ornaments of this nature. There were elixirs, tincpassion, that I have long since ceased to wonder at tures, the Anodyne Fotus, English pills, electuaries, the great encouragement which the practice of phy- and in short more remedies than I believe there are sic finds among us. Well-constitutioned govern- diseases. At the sight of so many inventions, I ments have always made the profession of a phy- could not but imagine myself in a kind of arsenal sician both honourable and advantageous. Homer's or magazine where store of arms was reposited Machaon and Virgil's lapis were men of renown, against any sudden invasion. Should you be atheroes in war, and made at least as much havoc tacked by the enemy sideways, here was an infallible among their enemies as among their friends. Those piece of defensive armour to cure the pleurisy; who have little or no faith in the abilities of a quack should a distemper beat up your head-quarters, here will apply themselves to him, either because he is you might purchase an impenetrable helmet, or, in willing to sell health at a reasonable profit, or be- the language of the artist, a cephalic tincture; if cause the patient, like a drowning man, catches at your main body be assaulted, here are various kinds every twig, and hopes for relief from the most igno- of armour in cases of various onsets. I began to rant, when the most able physicians give him none. congratulate the present age upon the happiness Though impudence and many words are as neces-men might reasonably hope for in life, when death sary to these itinerary Galens, as a laced hat to a was thus in a manner defeated, and when pain itself merry-andrew, yet they would turn very little to the would be of so short a duration, that it would but advantage of the owner, if there were not some in- just serve to enhance the value of pleasure. While ward disposition in the sick man to favour the pre-I was in these thoughts, I unluckily called to mind tensions of the mountebank. Love of life in the one, and of money in the other, creates a good correspondence between them. There is scarcely a city in Great Britain but has one of this tribe who takes it into his protection, and on the market-day harangues the good people of the place with aphorisms and receipts. You may depend upon it he comes not there for his own private interest, but out of a particular affection to the town. I remember one of these public-spirited artists at Hammersmith, who told his audience, that he had been born and bred there, and that, having a special regard for the place of his nativity, he was determined to make a present of five shillings to as many as would accept of it. The whole crowd stood agape, and ready to take the doctor at his word; when putting his hand into a long bag, as every one was expecting his crown-piece, he drew out a handful of little packets, each of which he informed the spectators was constantly sold at five shillings and six-pence, but that he would bate the odd five shillings to every inhabitant of that place: the whole assembly immediately closed with this generous offer, and took off all his physic, after the doctor had made them vouch for one another, that there were no foreigners among them, but that they were all Hammersmith men. "There is another branch of pretenders to this art, who, without either horse or pickle-herring, lie snug in a garret, and send down notice to the world of their extraordinary parts and abilities by printed bills and advertisements. These seem to have de 6 a story of an ingenious gentleman of the last age, who lying violently afflicted with the gout, a person came and offered his services to cure him by a method which he assured him was infallible; the ser vant who received the message carried it up to his master, who inquiring whether the person came on foot or in a chariot, and being 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 concluded that had all these advertisers arrived to that skill they 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 leanness: what effects it may have upon those who have tried it, I cannot tell; but I am credibly informed that the call for it has been so great, that it has effectually cured the doctor himself of the distemper. Could each of them pr duce so good an instance of the success of his medicines, they might soon persuade the world into an opinion of them. "I observe that most of the bills agree in one expression, viz. that with God's blessing' they per form such and such cures; this expression is cer tainly very proper and emphatical, for that is all they have for it. And if ever a cure is performed on a patient where they are concerned, they can claim no greater share in it than Virgil's lapis iu the curing of Æneas; he tried his skill, was very assiduous about the wound; and indeed was the Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood, All softning simples, known of sov`reign use, But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief, Th extracted liquor with ambrosian dews, 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 this 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 me free possession of my own land, and a large jointure. My youth and money brought me many lovers, and several endeavoured to establish an interest in my heart, while my husband was in his last sickness: the Honourable Edward Waitfort was one of the first who addressed me, advised to it by a cousin of his that was my intimate friend, and knew to a penny what I was worth. Mr. Waitfort is a very agreeable man, and every body would like him as well as he does himself, if they did not plainly see that his esteem and love is all taken up, and by such an object as it is impossible to get the better of; I mean himself. He made no doubt of marrying me within four or five months, and began to proceed with such an assured easy air, that piqued my pride not to banish him; quite contrary, out of pure malice, I heard his first declaration with so much innocent surprise, and blushed so prettily, I per With juice of med'cinal herbs, prepared to bathe the ceived it touched his very heart, and he thought me wound. 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 is the blood, and in the bottom stands The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, Lipts first perceiv'd the closing wound! And first the footsteps of a god he found: the best-natured, silly, poor thing on earth. When a man has such a notion of a woman, he loves her better than he thinks he does. I was overjoyed to be thus revenged on him for designing on my fortune; and finding it was in my power to make his heart ache, I resolved to complete my conquest, and entertained several other pretenders. The first Arms, arms! he cries: the sword and shield prepare, impression of my undesigning innocence was so And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war. VIRG. Æn. lib. xii. 391, &c. No. 573.] WEDNESDAY, JULY 28, 1714. - Castigata remordent. Juv. Sat. ii. 35. Chastised, the accusation they retort. My paper on the club of widows has brought me in several letters; and among the rest, a long one from Mrs. President, as follows: "SMART SIR, "You are pleased to be very merry, as you imagine, with us widows: and you seem to ground your satire on our receiving consolation so soon after the death of our dears, and the number we are pleased to admit for our companions; but you never reflect what husbands 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 by my uncle and guardian (as I afterward discovered) by way of sale, for the third part of my fortune. This fellow looked upon me as a mere child he might breed up after his own fancy: if he kissed my chambermaid before my face, I was supposed so ignorant how could I think there was any hurt in it? When he came home roaring drunk at five in the morning, it was the custom of all men that live in the world. I was not to see a penny of money, for, poor thing, how could. I manage it? He took a handsome cousin of his into the house (as he said) to be my housekeeper, and to govern my servants: for how should I know how to rule a family? While strong in his head, he attributed all my followers to |