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man's inclosures, and tramples upon no man's corn; he takes nothing from the industrious laborer; he pays the poor man for his work; he com municates his profit with mankind; by the prepareturns, he furnishes employment and subsistence to greater numbers than the richest nobleman; and even the nobleman is obliged to him for finding out foreign_markets for the produce of his estate, and for making a great addition to his rents; and yet it is certain that none of all these things could be done by him without the exercise of his skill in numbers."

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"It is very well, good captain," interrupted Sir Andrew: "you may attempt to turn the discourse if you think fit; but I must however have a word or two with Sir Roger, who, I see, thinks he has paid me off, and been very severe upon the mer-ration of his cargo, and the manufacture of his chant. I shall not," continued he, at this time remind Sir Roger of the great and noble monuments of charity and public spirit, which have been erected by merchants since the reformation, but at present content myself with what he allows us, parsimony and frugality. If it were consistent with the quality of so ancient a baronet as Sir Roger, to keep an account, or measure things by the most infallible way, that of numbers, he This is the economy of the merchant; and the would prefer our parsimony to his hospitality. If conduct of the gentleman must be the same, unto drink so many hogsheads is to be hospitable, less, by scorning to be the steward, he resolves the we do not contend for the fame of that virtue: steward shall be the gentleman. The gentleman, but it would be worth while to consider whether no more than the merchant, is able, without the so many artificers, at work ten days together by help of numbers, to account for the success of any my appointment, or so many peasants made merry action, or the prudence of any adventure. If for on Sir Roger's charge, are the men more obliged? instance, the chase is his whole adventure, his I believe the families of the artificers will thank only returns must be the stag's horns in the great me more than the household of the peasants shall hall, and the fox's nose upon the stable-door. Sir Roger. Sir Roger gives to his men, but I Without doubt Sir Roger knows the full value of place mine above the necessity or obligation of these returns; and if beforehand he had compuiny bounty. I am in very little pain for the Ro-ted the charges of the chase, a gentleman of his man proverb upon the Carthaginian traders; the discretion would certainly have hanged up all his Romans were their professed enemies; I am only dogs; he would never have brought back so many sorry no Carthaginian histories have come to our fine horses to the kennel; he would never have hands; we might have been taught perhaps by gone so often, like a blast, over fields of corn. them some proverbs against the Roman generosi- such too had been the conduct of all his ancestors, ty, in fighting for, and bestowing, other people's he might truly have boasted at this day, that the goods. But since Sir Roger has taken occasion, antiquity of his family had never been sullied by from an old proverb, to be out of humor with a trade; a merchant had never been permitted with merchants, it should be no offense to offer one not his whole estate to purchase room for his picture quite so old in their defense. When a man hap- in the gallery of the Coverley's, or to claim his pens to break in Holland, they say of him, that descent from the maid of honor. But it is very he has not kept true accounts.' This phrase, happy for Sir Roger that the merchant paid so perhaps, among us would appear a soft or humo- dear for his ambition. It is the misfortune of rous way of speaking, but with that exact nation many other gentlemen to turn out of the seats of it bears the highest reproach. For a man to be their ancestors, to make way for such new masters mistaken in the calculation of his expense, in his as have been more exact in their accounts than ability to auswer future demands, or to be imper themselves; and certainly he deserves the estate tinently sanguine in putting his credit to too great a great deal better who has got it by his industry, adventure, are all instances of as much infamy, as than he who has lost it by his negligence." with gayer nations to be failing in courage, or common honesty.

Numbers are so much the measure of everything that is valuable, that it is not possible to demonstrate the success of any action, or the prudence of any undertaking without them. I say this in answer to what Sir Roger is pleased to say, the little that is truly noble can be expected from ae who is ever poring on his cash-book, or balacing his accounts.' When I have my returns from abroad, I can tell to a shilling, by the help o numbers, the profit or loss by my adventure; by I ought also to be able to show that I had re-son for making it, either from my own experies ce. or that of other people, or from a reasonable presumption that my returns will be sufficient to answer my expense and hazard; and this is never to Le done without the skill of numbers. For instat.ce, if I am to trade to Turkey, I ought beforehand to know the demand of our manufactures there, as well as of their silks, in England, and the customary prices that are given for both in each country. I ought to have a clear knowledge of these matters beforehand, that I may presume upon sufficient returns to answer the charge of the cago I have fitted out, the freight and insurance o and home, the customs to the Queen, and the interest of my own money, and beside all these expenses a reasonable profit to myself. Now what is there of scandal in this skill? What has the merchant done, that he should be so little in the good graces of Sir Roger? He throws down no

If

No. 175.] THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1711.
Proximus a tectis ignis defenditur ægre.---

OVID. Rem. Arm., v, 625.
To save your house from neighb'ring fire is hard.-TATE,
I SHALL this day entertain my readers with two
or three letters I have received from my corres-
pondents: the first discovers to me a species of
females which have hitherto escaped my notice,
and is as follows:

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"I am a young gentleman of a competent for tune, and a sufficient taste of learning, to sped five or six hours every day very agreeably among my books. That I might have nothing to divert me from my studies, and to avoid the noises of coaches and chairmen, I have taken lodgings in a very narrow street not far from Whitehall; but it is my misfortune to be so posted, that my icdgings are directly opposite to those of a Jezebel. You are to know, Sir, that a Jezebel (so called by the neighborhood from displaying her pernicious charms at her window) appears constantly dressed at her sash, and has a thousand little tricks and fooleries to attract the eyes of all the idle young fellows in the neighborhood. I have seen mere than six persons at once from their several windows observing the Jezebel I am now complaining

while we were eating cheese-cakes; but coming home, he renewed his attacks with his former good fortune, and equal diversion to the whole compa ny. In short, Sir, I must ingenuously own that I never was so handled in all my life; and to complete my misfortune, I am since told that the butt, flushed with his late victory, has made a visit or two to the dear object of my wishes, so that I am at once in danger of losing all my pretensions to wit, and my mistress into the bargain. This, Sir, is a true account of my present troubles, which you are the more obliged to assist me in, as you were yourself in a great measure the cause of them, by recommending to us an instrument, and not instructing us at the same time how to play upon it.

of. I at first looked on her myself with the high- we came to Chelsea. I had some small success est contempt, could divert myself with her airs for half an hour, and afterward take up my Plutarch with great tranquillity of mind; but was a little vexed to find that in less than a month she had considerably stolen upon my time, so that I resolved to look at her no more. But the Jezebel, who, as I suppose, might think it a diminution to her honor to have the number of her gazers lessened, resolved not to part with me so, and began to play so many new tricks at her window, that it was impossible for me to forbear observing her. I verily believe she put herself to the expense of a new wax baby on purpose to plague me; she used dandle and play with this figure as impertiently as if it had been a real child: sometimes she would let fall a glove or a pin-cushion in the rect, and shut or open her casement three or four times in a minute. When I had almost weaned myself from this, she came in her shift sleeves, and dressed at the window. I had no way left, Lut to let down the curtains, which I submitted to, though it considerably darkened my room, and was pleased to think that I had at last got the bet ter of her; but was surprised the next morning to hear her talking out of her window quite across the street, with another woman that lodges over me. I am since informed that she made her a isit, and got acquainted with her within three bours after the fall of my window-curtains.

"Sir, I am plagued every moment in the day, one way or other, in my own chambers; and the Jezebel has the satisfaction to know, that though I am not looking at her, I am listening to her impertinent dialogues, that pass over my head. I would immediately change my lodgings, but that I think it might look like a plain confession that I am conquered; and beside this, I am told that most quarters of the town are infested with these creatures. If they are so, I am sure it is such an abuse, as a lover of learning and silence ought to take notice of. "I am, Sir, yours," etc.

I am afraid by some lines in this letter, that my young student is touched with a distemper which he hardly seems to dream of, and is too far gone in it to receive advice. However, I shall animadveit in due time, on the abuse which he mentions, having myself observed a nest of Jezebels near the Temple, who make it their diversion to draw up the eyes of young Templars, that at the same time they may see them stumble in an unlucky gutter which runs under the window.

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"I have been thinking whether it might not be highly convenient, that all butts should wear an inscription affixed to some part of their bodies, showing on which side they are to be come at, and if any of them are persons of unequal tempers, there should be some method taken to inform the world at what time it is safe to attack them, and when you had best let them alone. But, submitting these matters to your more serious considcration,

"I am, Sir, yours," etc.

I have, indeed, seen and heard of several young gentlemen under the same misfortune with my present correspondent. The best rule I can lay down for them to avoid the like calamities for the future, is thoroughly to consider, not only whether their companions are weak, but whether themselves are wits.

The following letter comes to me from Exeter, and being credibly informed that what it contains is matter of fact, I shall give it my readers as it was sent to me:

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"A lady of this place had some time since & box of the newest ribbons sent down by the couch. Whether it was her own malicious invention, or the wantonness of a London milliner, I am n: "I have lately read the conclusion of your forty- able to inform you; but, among the rest, there seventh speculation upon butts with great plea was one cherry-colored ribbon, consisting of about sure and have ever since been thoroughly persuaded half a dozen yards, made up in the figure of a that one of those gentlemen is extremely neces- small headdress. The aforesaid lady had the s3sary to enliven conversation. I had an entertain-surance to affirm, amid a circle of female inqu gent last week upon the water for a lady to whom itors who were present at the opening of the x, I make my addresses, with several of our friends of both sexes. To divert the company in general, and to show my mistress in particular my genius for raillery, I took one of the most celebrated butts in town along with me. It is with the utmost shame and confusion that I must acquaint you with the sequel of my adventure. As soon as we were got into the boat, I played a sentence or two at my butt, which I thought very smart, when my ill-genius, who I verily believe inspired him purely for my destruction, suggested to him such a reply, as got all the laughter on his side. I was dashed at so unexpected a turn; which the butt perceiving, resolved not to let me recover myself, and pursuing his victory, rallied and tossed ine in a most unmerciful and barbarous manner until

that this was the newest fashion worn at court. Accordingly, the next Sunday, we had several fe males, who came to church with their heads dressed wholly in ribbons, and looked like so many victims ready to be sacrificed. This is still a reigning mode among us. At the same time we have a set of gentlemen who take the liberty to appear in all public places without any buttons to their coats, which they supply with several little silver hasps, though our freshest advices from London make no mention of any such fashion; and we are sometimes shy of affording matter the button-makers for a second petition.

"What I would humbly propose to the public is, that there may be a society erected in London, to consist of the most skillful persons of both sexes,

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"I do not deny but you appear in many of your papers to understand human life pretty well; but there are very many things which you cannot possibly have a true notion of, in a single life, these are such as respect the married state; otherwise I cannot account for your having overlooked a very good sort of people, which are commonly called in scorn the Hen-pecked.' You are to understand that I am one of those innocent mor tals who suffer derision under that word, for being governed by the best of wives. It would be worth your consideration to enter into the nature of affection itself, and tell us, according to your philosophy, why it is that our dears shall do as they will with us; snall be froward, ill-natured, assuming; sometimes whine, at others rail, then swoon away, then come to life, have the use of speech to the greatest fluency imaginable, and then sink away again, and all because they fear we do not love them enough; that is, the poor things love us so heartily, that they cannot think it possible we should be able to love them in so great a degree, which makes them take on so. I say, Sir, a true good-natured man, whom rakes and libertines call hen-pecked, shall fall into all these different modes with his dear life, and at the same time see they are wholly put on; and yet not be hard-hearted enough to tell the dear good creature that she is a hypocrite.

"This sort of good men is very frequent in the populous and wealthy city of London, and is the true hen-pecked man. The kind creature cannot break through his kindnesses so far as to come to an explanation with the tender soul, and therefore goes on to comfort her when nothing ails her, to appease her when she is not angry, and to give her his cash when he knows she does not want it; rather than be uneasy for a whole month, which is computed by hard-hearted men, the space of titae which a froward woman takes to come to herself, if you have courage to stand out.

"There are indeed several other species of the hen-pecked, and in my opinion they are certainly the best subjects the queen has; and for that reasor. I take it to be your duty to keep us above contempt.

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yet there is not such a slave in Turkey as I am to my dear. She has a good share of wit, and is what you call a very pretty agreeable woman. I perfectly dote on her, and my affection to her gives me all the anxieties imaginable but that of jealousy. My being thus confident of her, I take, as much as I can judge of my heart, to be the reason, that whatever she does, though it be ever so much against my inclination, there is still left something in her manner that is amiable. She will sometimes look at me with an assumed grandeur, and pretend to resent that I have not had respect enough for her opinion in such an instance in company. I cannot but smile at the pretty anger she is in, and then she pretends she is used like a child. In a word, our great debate is, which has the superiority in point of underof debate: to which I very indolently answer, standing. She is eternally forming an argument Thou art mighty pretty.' To this she answers, All the world but you think I have as much sense as yourself.' I repeat to her, 'Indeed you are pretty. Upon this there is no patience; she will throw down anything about her, stamp, and pull off her head-clothes. Fie, my dear,' say I, how can a woman of your sense fall into such an intemperate rage?' This is an argument that never fails. Indeed, my dear,' says she, you make me mad sometimes, so you do, with the silly way you have of treating me like a pretty idiot.' Well, what have I got by putting her in a good humor? Nothing, but that I must convince her of my good opinion by my practice; and then 1 am to give her possession of my little ready money, and, for a day and a half following, dislike all she dislikes, and extol everything she ap proves. I am so exquisitely fond of this darling, that I seldom see any of my friends, am uneasy in all companies till I see her again; and when I come home she is in the dumps, because she says she is sure I came so soon only because I think her handsome. I dare not upon this occasion laugh; but though I am one of the warmest churchmen in the kingdom, I am forced to rail at the times, because she is a violent Whig. Upon this we talk politics so long, that she is convinced I kiss her for her wisdom. It is a common practice with me to ask her some question concerning the constitution, which she answers me in general out of Harrington's Oceana. Then I commend her strange memory, and her arm is immediately locked in mine. While I keep her in this temper she plays before me, sometimes dancing in the midst of the room, sometimes striking an air at her spinnet, varying her posture and her charms in such a manner that I am in continual pleasure. She will play the fool if I allow her to be wise; but if she suspects I like her for her trifling, she immediately grows grave.

"These are the toils in which I am taken, and I carry off my servitude as well as most men; but my application to you is in behalf of the henpecked in general, and I desire a dissertation from you in defense of us. You have, as I am informed, very good authorities in our favor, and hope you will not omit the mention of the renowned Socrates, and his philosophic resignation to his wife Xantippe. This would be a very good office to the world in general, for the hen-pecked are powerful in their qualities and numbers, not only in "I do not know whether I make myself under- cities, but in courts; in the latter they are ever stood in the representation of a hen-pecked life, the most obsequious, in the former the most. but I shall take leave to give you an account of wealthy of all men. When you have considered myself, and my own spouse. You are to know wedlock thoroughly, you ought to enter into the that I am reckoned no fool, have on several occa- suburbs of matrimony, and give us an account of sions been tried whether I will take ill-usage, the thraldom of kind keepers, and irresolute lov and the event has been to my advantage; anders; the keepers who cannot quit their fair ones.

though they see their approaching ruin; the lovers who dare not marry, though they know they never shall be happy without the mistresses whoin they cannot purchase on other terms.

"What will be a greater embellishment to your discourse will be, that you may find instances of the haughty, the proud, the frolic, the stubborn, who are each of them in secret downright slaves to their wives or mistresses. I must beg of you in the last place to dwell upon this, that the wise and valiant in all ages have been hen-pecked; and that the sturdy tempers who are not slaves to affection, owe that exemption to their being enthralled by ambition, avarice, or some meaner passion. I have ten thousand thousand things more to say, but my wife sees me writing, and will, according to custom, be consulted, if I do not seal this immediately. "Yours,

T.

"NATHANIEL HENBOOST."

want, or inconvenience which may arise to ourselves from it. In a word, whether we are willing to risk any part of our fortune, our reputation, or health, or ease, for the benefit of mankind. Among all these expressions of good-nature I shall single out that which goes under the general name of charity, as it consists in relieving the indigent; that being a trial of this kind which offers itself to us almost at all times, and in every place.

I should propose it as a rule, to every one who is provided with any competency of fortune more than sufficient for the necessaries of life, to lay aside a certain portion of his income for the use of the poor. This I would look upon as an offer ing to Him who has a right to the whole, for the use of those whom, in the passage hereafter mentioned, he has described as his own representatives upon earth. At the same time we should manage our charity with such prudence and caution, that we may not hurt our own friends or relations, while we are doing good to those who

No. 177.] SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1711. are strangers to us.

-Quis enim bonus, aut face dignus
Arcana, qualem Cereris vult esse sacerdos,
Ulla aliena sibi credat mala?-

Jev., Sat. xv, 140. Who can all sense of others' ills escape, Is but a brute, at best, in human shape.-TATE. IN one of my last week's papers I treated of good-nature, as it is the effect of constitution; I shall now speak of it as a moral virtue. The first may make a man easy in himself and agreeable to others, but implies no merit in him that is possessed of it. A man is no more to be praised upon this account, than because he has a regular pulse, or a good digestion. This good-nature, however, in the constitution, which Mr. Dryden somewhere calls a "milkiness of blood," is an admirable groundwork for the other. In order, therefore, to try our good-nature, whether it arises 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 such as is entitled to any other reward, beside that secret satisfaction and contentment of mind which is essential to it, and the kind reception it procures us in the world, we must examine it by the following rules:

First; whether it acts with steadiness and uniformity in sickness and in health, in prosperity and in adversity; if otherwise, it is to be looked upon as nothing else but an irradiation of the mind from some new supply of spirits, or a more kindly circulation of the blood. Sir Francis Bacon mentions a cunning solicitor, who would never ask a favor 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 humor. Such a transient, temporary good-nature as this, is not that philanthropy, that love of mankind, which deserves the title of a moral virtue.

This may possibly be explained better by an example than by a rule.

Eugenius is a man of a universal good-nature; and generous beyond the extent of his fortune; but withal so prudent in the economy of his af fairs, that what goes out in charity is made up by good management. Eugenius has what the world calls £200 a year; but never values himself above nine score, as not thinking he has a right to the tenth part, which he always appropriates to charitable uses. To this sun he frequently makes other voluntary additions, insomuch that in a good year, for such he accounts those in which he has been able to make greater bounties than ordinary, he has given above twice that sum to the sickly and indigent. Eugenius prescribes to himself many particular days of fasting and abstinence, in order to increase his private bank of charity, and sets aside what would be the current expenses of those times for the use of the poor. He often goes afoot where his business calls him, and at the end of his walk has given a shilling, which in his ordinary methods of expense would have gone for coach-hire, to the first necessitous person 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 designed for that purpose, upon an object of charity whom he has met with in the street; and afterward pass his evening in a coffee-house, or at a friend's fire-side, with much greater satisfaction to himself, than he could have received from the most exquisite entertainments of the theater. By these means he is generous without impoverishing himself, and enjoys his estate by making it the property of others.

There are few men so cramped in their private affairs, who may not be charitable after this manThe next way of a man's bringing his good-ner, without any disadvantage to themselves, or nature to the test, is to consider whether it operates prejudice to their families. It is but sometimes according to the rules of reason and duty for if, sacrificing a diversion or convenience to the poor, notwithstanding its general benevolence to man- and turning the usual course of our expenses into kind, it makes no distinction between its objects, a better channel. This is, I think, not only the if it exerts itself promiscuously toward the de- most prudent and convenient, but the most meriserving and the undeserving, if it relieves alike torious piece o charity, which we can put in the idle and the indigent, if it gives itself up to practice. By this method, we in some measure the first petitioner and lights upon any one rather share the necessities of the poor at the same time by accident than choice, it may pass for an amiable that we relieve them, and make ourselves not only instinct, but must not assume the name of a moral their patrons, but their fellow-sufferers. virtue.

The third trial of good-nature will be the examining ourselves, whether or no we are able to exert it to our own disadvantage, and employ it on p. oper objects, notwithstanding any little pain,

Sir Thomas Brown, in the last part of his Religio Medici, in which he describes his charity in several heroic instances, and with a noble heat of sentiment, mentions that verse in the Proverbs of Solomon, "He that giveth to the poor, lendeth

to the Lord:"* There is more rhetoric in that lifted up myself when evil found him. (neither one sentence, says he, than in a library of ser- have I suffered my mouth to sin, by wishing a mous; and, indeed, if those sentences were under-curse to his soul). The stranger did not lodge in stood by the reader, with the same emphasis as they are delivered by the author, we needed not those volumes of instructions, but might be honest by an epitome.†

This passage of Scripture is, indeed, wonderfully persuasive; but I think the same thought is carried much farther in the New Testament, where our Savior tells us, in a most pathetic manner, that he shall hereafter regard the clothing of the naked, the feeding of the hungry, and the visiting of the imprisoned, as offices done to himself, and reward them accordingly. Pursuant to those passages in Holy Scripture, I have somewhere met with the epitaph of a charitable man, which has very much pleased me. I cannot recollect the words, but the sense of it is to this purpose: What I spent I lost; what I possessed is left to others; what I gave away remains with me.§

Since I am thus insensibly engaged in sacred writ, i cannot forbear making an extract of several passages which I have always read with great delight in the Book of Job. It is the account which that holy man gives of his behavior in the days of his prosperity, and if considered only as a human composition, 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 past, as in the days when God preserved me when his candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I walked through darkness; when the Almighty was yet with ine; when my children were about me; when I washed my steps with butter, and the rock poured me out rivers of oil.

the street; but I opened my doors to the traveler. If my land cry against me, or that the furrows likewise therefore complain: If I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or have caused the owners thereof to lose their life; let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley."

L.

No. 178.] MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1711.
Comis in uxorem- -HOR. 2 Ep. ii, 133.

Civil to his wife.-POPE.

I CANNOT defer taking notice of this letter:"MR. SPECTATOR,

"I am but too good a judge of your paper of the 15th instant, which is a master-piece; I mean that of jealousy but I think it unworthy of you to speak of that torture in the breast of a man, and not to mention also the pangs of it in the heart of a woman. You have very judiciously, and with the greatest penetration imaginable, considered it as woman is the creature of whom the diffidence is raised; but not a word of a man, who is so unmerciful as to move jealousy in his wife, and not care whether she is so or not. It is possible you may not believe there are such tyrants in the world; but alas, I can tell you of a man who is ever out of humor in his wife's company, and the pleasantest man in the world everywhere else; the greatest sloven at home when he appears to none but his family, and most exactly well dressed in all other places. Alas, Sir, is it of "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; course, that to deliver one's self wholly into a man's and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me. power without possibility of appeal to any other juBecause I delivered the poor that cried, and the risdiction but his own reflections, is so little an obfatherless, and him that had none to help him. ligation to a gentleman, that he can be offended The blessing of him that was ready to perish and fall into a rage, because my heart swells tears came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to into my eyes when I see him in a cloudy mood? sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet I pretend to no succor, and hope for no relief but was I to the lame; I was a father to the poor, and from himself; and yet he that has sense and justhe cause which I knew not I searched out, Did tice in everything else, never reflects, that to come not 1 weep for him that was in trouble? was not home only to sleep off an intemperance, and my soul grieved for the poor? Let me be weigh- spend all the time he is there as if it were a puned in an even balance, that God may know mine ishment, cannot but give the anguish of a jealous integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man-mind. He always leaves his home as if he were servant or of my maid-servant when they contend-going to a court, and returns as if he were entered with me; what then shall I do when God risething a jail. I could add to this, that from his comup and when he visiteth, what shall I answer pany and his usual discourse, he does not scruple him? Did not he that made me in the womb, make him? and did not one fashion us in the web? If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have caused the eyes of the widow to fail: Or have eaten my morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten thereof: If I have seen any perish for want of clothing, or any poor without covering; If his loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep: If I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, when I saw my help in the gate; then let mine arm fall from my shoulder-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. If I have rejoiced at the destruction of him that hated me, or

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being thought an abandoned man, as to his morals. Your own imagination will say enough to you concerning the condition of me his wife; and I wish you would be so good as to represent to him, for he is not ill-natured, and reads you much, that the moment I hear the door shut after him, I throw myself upon my bed, and drown the child he is so fond of with my tears, and often frighten it with my cries; that I curse my being; that I run to my glass all over, bathed in sorrows, and help the utterance of my inward anguish by beholding the gush of my own calamities as my tears fall from my eyes. This looks like an imagined picture to tell you, but indeed this is one of my pastimes. Hitherto I have only told you the general temper of my mind, how shall I give you an account of the distraction of it? Could you but conceive how cruel I am one moment in my resentment, and at the ensuing minute when I place him in the condition my anger would bring him to, how compassionate; it would give you some notion how miserable I am, and how little I

*Job, xxix, 2, etc.; xxx, 25, etc.; xxxi, 6, etc., passin,

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