Poor Richard Improved, 1750
Poor Richard improved: Being an Almanack and Ephemeris...for
the Year of our Lord 1750. ... By Richard Saunders,
Philom. Philadelphia: Printed and Sold by B. Franklin, and D. Hall.
(Yale University Library)
To the Reader.
The Hope of acquiring lasting Fame, is,
with many Authors, a most powerful Motive to Writing. Some, tho’
few, have succeeded; and others, tho’ perhaps fewer, may succeed
hereafter, and be as well known to Posterity by their Works, as the
Antients are to us. We Philomaths, as ambitious of Fame as any
other Writers whatever, after all our painful Watchings and
laborious Calculations, have the constant Mortification to see our
Works thrown by at the End of the Year, and treated as mere waste
Paper. Our only Consolation is, that short-lived as they are, they
out-live those of most of our Cotemporaries.
Yet, condemned to renew the Sisyphean Toil, we
every Year heave another heavy Mass up the Muses Hill, which never
can the Summit reach, and soon comes tumbling down again.
This, kind Reader, is my seventeenth Labour of
the Kind. Thro’ thy continued Good-will, they have procur’d me, if
no Bays, at least Pence; and the latter is perhaps
the better of the two; since ’tis not improbable that a Man may
receive more solid Satisfaction from Pudding, while he is
living, than from Praise, after he is
dead.
In my last, a few Faults escap’d; some belong
to the Author, but most to the Printer: Let each take his Share of
the Blame, confess, and amend for the future. In the second Page of
August, I mention’d 120 as the next perfect Number to 28; it
was wrong; 120 being no perfect Number; the next to 28 I find to be
496. The first is 6; let the curious Reader, fond of mathematical
Questions, find the fourth. In the 2d Page of March, in some
Copies, the Earth’s Circumference was said to be nigh 4000, instead
of 24000 Miles, the Figure 2 being omitted at the Beginning. This
was Mr. Printer’s Fault; who being also somewhat niggardly of his
Vowels, as well as profuse of his Consonants, put in one Place,
among the Poetry, mad, Instead of made, and in
another wrapp’d, instead of warp’d; to the utter
demolishing of all Sense in those Lines, leaving nothing standing
but the Rhime. These, and some others, of the like kind, let the
Readers forgive, or rebuke him for, as to their Wisdom and Goodness
shall seem meet. For in such Cases the Loss and Damage is chiefly
to the Reader, who, if he does not take my Sense at first Reading,
’tis odds he never gets it; for ten to one he does not read my
Works a second Time.
Printers indeed should be very careful how they
omit a Figure or a Letter: For by such Means sometimes a terrible
Alteration is made in the Sense. I have heard, that once, in a new
Edition of the Common Prayer, the following Sentence, We
shall all the changed in a Moment, in the Twinkling of an
Eye; by the Omission of a single Letter, became, We shall
all be hanged in a Moment, &c. to the no small Surprize of
the first Congregation it was read to.
May this Year prove a happy One to Thee and
Thine, is the hearty Wish of, Kind Reader, Thy obliged Friend,
The Number of People in New-Jersey, taken by Order of Government in
1737-8.
Middlesex, |
1134 |
1085 |
1086 |
956 |
272 |
231 |
4261 |
503 |
Essex, |
1118 |
1720 |
1619 |
1494 |
198 |
177 |
6644 |
375 |
Bergen, |
939 |
822 |
820 |
708 |
443 |
363 |
3289 |
806 |
Somerset, |
967 |
940 |
999 |
867 |
425 |
307 |
3773 |
732 |
Monmouth, |
1508 |
1339 |
1289 |
1295 |
362 |
293 |
5431 |
655 |
Burlington, |
1487 |
1222 |
1190 |
996 |
192 |
151 |
4895 |
343 |
Gloucester, |
930 |
757 |
782 |
676 |
74 |
48 |
3145 |
122 |
Salem, |
1669 |
1391 |
1313 |
1327 |
97 |
87 |
5700 |
184 |
Cape-May, |
261 |
219 |
271 |
211 |
21 |
21 |
962 |
42 |
Hunterdon, |
1618 |
1230 |
1270 |
1170 |
124 |
95 |
5288 |
219 |
Totals, |
11631 |
10725 |
10639 |
9700 |
2208 |
1773 |
43388 |
3981 |
Number of Ditto, taken in 1745, by order of Gov.
Morris.
Morris, |
1109 |
957 |
1190 |
1087 |
57 |
36 |
4343 |
93 |
Hunterdon, |
2302 |
2117 |
2182 |
2090 |
244 |
216 |
8691 |
460 |
Burlington, |
1786 |
1605 |
1528 |
1454 |
233 |
197 |
6373 |
430 |
Gloucester, |
913 |
797 |
786 |
808 |
121 |
81 |
3304 |
202 |
Salem, |
1716 |
1603 |
1746 |
1595 |
90 |
97 |
6660 |
187 |
Cape-May, |
306 |
272 |
284 |
274 |
30 |
22 |
1136 |
52 |
Bergen, |
721 |
590 |
494 |
585 |
379 |
237 |
2390 |
616 |
Essex, |
1694 |
1649 |
1652 |
1548 |
244 |
201 |
6543 |
445 |
Middlesex, |
1728 |
1659 |
1651 |
1695 |
483 |
396 |
6733 |
879 |
Monmouth, |
2071 |
1783 |
1975 |
1899 |
513 |
386 |
7728 |
899 |
Somerset, |
740 |
672 |
765 |
719 |
194 |
149 |
2896 |
343 |
Totals, |
15086 |
13704 |
14253 |
13754 |
2588 |
2018 |
56797 |
4606 |
Note, That Morris and Hunterdon
Counties, were both in one, under the Name of Hunterdon, in 1737-8.
In 1745, the Number of the People called Quakers in New-Jersey, was
found to be 6079; no distinct Account was taken of them in 1737-8.
Total of Souls in 1737, 47369; Ditto in 1745, 61403; Increase
14034. Query, At this Rate of Increase, in what Number of
Years will that Province double its Inhabitants?
Buried in the several Burying Grounds of Philadelphia, belonging to the
|
1738 |
113 |
24 |
29 |
15 |
46 |
269 |
54 |
|
1739 |
109 |
16 |
18 |
7 |
56 |
97 |
47 |
|
1740 |
105 |
8 |
22 |
12 |
29 |
80 |
34 |
|
1741 |
165 |
30 |
41 |
20 |
120 |
300 |
69 |
|
1742 |
126 |
35 |
21 |
9 |
70 |
98 |
50 |
|
1744 |
123 |
16 |
29 |
14 |
81 |
100 |
47 |
|
858 |
129 |
179 |
98 |
470 |
1094 |
351 |
Note; No Account of Burials in the
Swedish Ground, was taken in the Year 1743, and those Germans
buried in the new Dutch Burying Ground, are numbered among the
Strangers, who were chiefly Palatines: The Mortality among them is
not owing to any Unhealthiness of this Climate, but to Diseases
they contract on Shipboard, the Voyage sometimes happening to be
long, and too great a Number crowded together. Exclusive of those,
the Total of Deaths in seven Years is about 2100, which is 300
per Annum: By which we should have had nearly 10,500
Inhabitants during those seven Years, at a Medium; for in a healthy
Country (as this is) political Arithmeticians compute, there dies
yearly One in Thirty-five. But in these last five Years, from 1744,
the Town is greatly increased.
In the Province of Massachusetts Bay, in
New-England, Anno 1735, there were 35,427 Polls of white Men
of 16 Years and upwards, 2600 Negroes, 27,420 Horse-kind of three
Years old and upwards, 52,000 Neat Cattle of three to four Years
old and upwards, 130,001 sheep of one year old and upwards. In 1742
there was 41,000 Polls of white Men, from 16 Years upwards.
Increase of Men in seven Years 5573, which is near one Sixth.
New-Jersey increased in the same Time near one Third.
By the New-Jersey Accounts it appears, that the
Number of Males, aged above 16, is nearly one fourth Part of the
whole Number of Souls. If the same Proportion holds in the
Massachusetts, they should have had in that Province, in 1742,
about 164000 Souls. There are three other Provinces in New-England,
viz. Connecticut, Rhode-Island, and New-Hampshire.
In 1742, a Year of middling Health in Boston,
were buried about 515, which multiplied by 35, makes nearly 18,000
Inhabitants. In the same Year were found in that Town,
Dwelling-houses 1719, Warehouses 166, Widows 1200, of which 1000
poor; in the Almshouse 111 Persons; in the Work-house 36; Negroes
1514; Horses 418; Cows 141.
In 1748-9, the Dwelling-houses in Philadelphia
were 2076. The following Summer arrived 24 or 25 Sail of Ships with
German Families, supposed to bring near 12,000 Souls.
It has been computed in England, that the
Colonies on the Continent, taken one with another, double the
Number of their Inhabitants every Thirty Years. This quick Increase
is owing not so much to natural Generation, as the Accession of
Strangers. What the natural Increase of Mankind is, is a curious
Question. In Breslaw, the Capital of Silesia, a healthy inland
City, to which many Strangers do not come, the Number of
Inhabitants was found to be generally about 34,000. An exact
Register is kept there of the Births and Burials, which taken for
30 Years together, amount, as follows,
Let the expert Calculator say, how long it will be, before by an
Increase of 64 per Annum, 34,000 People will double
themselves?
Yet I believe People increase faster by
Generation in these Colonies, where all can have full Employ, and
there is Room and Business for Millions yet unborn. For in old
settled Countries, as England for Instance, as soon as the Number
of People is as great as can be supported by all the Tillage,
Manufactures, Trade and Offices of the Country, the Overplus must
quit the Country, or they will perish by Poverty, Diseases, and
want of Necessaries. Marriage too, is discouraged, many declining
it, till they can see how they shall be able to maintain a Family.
January. XI Month.
So weak are human Kind by Nature made,
Or to such Weakness by their Vice betray’d,
Almighty Vanity! to thee they owe
Their Zest of Pleasure, and their Balm of Woe.
Thou, like the Sun, all Colours dost contain,
Varying like Rays of Light on Drops of Rain;
For every Soul finds Reason to be proud,
Tho’ hiss’d and hooted by the pointing Croud.
|
There are three Things extreamly hard, Steel, a Diamond and
to |
|
Hunger is the best Pickle. |
|
He is a Governor that governs his Passions, and he a
Servant |
On the 9th of this Month, 1744-5, died
Charles Albert, Elector of Bavaria, and
Emperor of Germany. ’Tis thought his Death was hastened by Grief
and Vexation at the Success of the Queen of Hungary, and the
Disappointments of his own Ambition. O Content! What art
thou! And where to be found! Art Thou not an inseparable Companion
of Honour, Wealth and Power? No. This Man was rich, great, a
Sovereign Prince: But he wanted to be richer, greater, and
more a Sovereign. At first his Arms had vast Success; but a
Campaign or two left him not a Foot of Land he could call his own,
and reduc’d him to live with his Empress in a hired House at
Frankfort!
The bold Bavarian, in a luckless Hour,
Tries the dread summits of Cesarean Power,
With unexpected Legions bursts away,
And sees defenceless Realms receive his Sway;
Short Sway! Fair Austria spreads her mournful Charms,
The Queen, the Beauty, sets the World in Arms;
From Hill to Hill the Beacons’s rousing Blaze
Spreads wide the hope of Plunder and of Praise;
The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar,
And all the Sons of Ravage, crowd the War;
The baffled Prince, in Honour’s flatt’ring Bloom,
Of hasty Greatness, finds the fatal Doom;
His Foes Derision, and his Subjects Blame,
And steals to Death from Anguish, and from Shame.
We smile at Florists, we despise their Joy,
And think their Hearts enamour’d of a Toy;
But are those wiser, whom we most admire,
Survey with Envy, and pursue with Fire?
What’s he, who fights for Wealth, or Fame, or Power?
Another Florio, doating on a Flower,
A short-liv’d Flower, and which has often sprung,
From sordid Arts, as Florio’s out of Dung.
|
A Cypher and Humility make the other Figures and Virtues
of |
|
If it were not for the Belly, the Back might wear
Gold. |
On the 19th of this Month, 1653, was a great
Sea-Fight between the English and Dutch. The Fleet of the former
commanded by Blake and Dean, Admirals; That of the latter by Van
Trump. The Dutch were beaten, lost 11 Men of War, and 30 Merchant
Ships, and 1500 Men killed. The English lost but one Ship, the
Sampson, Which was sunk; but the Number of their Slain
supposed to be nearly equal.
For Liberality.
Tho’ safe thou think’st thy Treasure lies,
Hidden in Chests from Human Eyes,
Thieves, Fire, may come, and it may be
Convey’d, my Friend, as far from thee.
Thy Vessel that yon Ocean sails,
Tho’ favour’d now with prosp’rous Gales,
Her Cargo which has Thousands cost,
All in a Tempest may be lost.
Cheats, Whores and Quacks, a thankless Crew,
Priests, Pickpockets, and Lawyers too,
All help by several Ways to drain,
Thanking themselves for what they gain;
The Liberal are secure alone,
For what they frankly give, for ever is their own.
What’s the bent Brow, or Neck in Thought reclin’d?
The Body’s Wisdom,to conceal the Mind.
A Man of Sense can Artifice disdain,
As Men of Wealth may venture to go plain;
And be this Truth eternal ne’er forgot,
Solemnity’s a Cover for a Sot;
I find the Fool, when I behold the Screen:
For ’tis the Wise Man’s Interest to be seen.
|
Wouldst thou confound thine Enemy, be good thy self. |
|
Pride is as loud a Beggar as Want, and a
great deal more saucy. |
|
Pay what you owe, and what you’re worth you’ll know. |
The Reason, says Swift, why so few Marriages
are happy, is, because young Ladies spend their Time in making
nets, not in making Cages.
Why, Celia, is your spreading Waist
So loose, so negligently lac’d?
How ill that Dress adorns your Head;
Distain’d and rumpled from the Bed?
Those Clouds that shade your blooming Face,
A little Water might displace,
As Nature ev’ry Morn bestows
The chrystal Dew to cleanse the Rose.
Those Tresses as the Raven black,
That wav’d in Ringlets down your Back,
Uncomb’d, and injur’d by Neglect,
Destroy the Face that once they deck’d
Whence this Forgetfulness of Dress?
Pray, Madam, are you marry’d? Yes.
Nay then indeed the Wonder ceases,
No matter now how loose your Dress is;
The End is won, your Fortune’s made,
Your Sister now may take the Trade.
Alas, what Pity ’tis to find
This Fault in Half the Female kind!
From hence proceed Aversion, Strife,
And all that sours the wedded Life.
Beauty can only point the Dart,
’Tis Neatness guides it to the Heart;
Let Neatness then, and Beauty strive
To keep a wav’ring Flame alive.
When e’er by seeming Chance, Fop throws his Eye
On Mirrors flushing with his Finery,
With how sublime a Transport leaps his Heart;
Pity such Friends sincere should ever part.
So have I seen on some bright Summer’s Day,
A spotted Calf, sleek, frolicksome and gay;
Gaze from the Bank, and much delighted seem,
Fond of the pretty Fellow in the Stream.
|
Sorrow is good for nothing but Sin. |
|
Many a Man thinks he is buying Pleasure, when he is
really |
Graft good Fruit all,
Or graft not at all.
On the 17th of this Month, 1722, the Princesses
Amelia and Carolina, were inoculated for the Small Pox, after the
Experiment had been tried for the first Time in England on some
condemned Malefactors. The Example of the Court was soon followed
by many of the Nobility and Gentry, and Success attending the
Practice, ’tis now grown more common in many Parts of Europe; and
tho’ at first it was reckoned by many to be a rash and
almost impious Action, to give a Distemper to a Person in
Health; so changeable are the Opinions of Men, that it now begins
to be thought rash to hazard taking it in the common Way, by
which one in seven is generally lost; and Impious to reject
a Method discovered to Mankind by God’s good Providence, whereby 99
in 100 are saved.
The Indians of America generally suffer
extreamly by this Distemper when it gets among them, perhaps from
the Closeness and Hardness of their Skins. Monsieur condamine, a
French Academician, who, in 1744, made a Voyage from Peru, down the
River Amazones, thro’ the Middle of South America, reports, that a
few Years before, the Small-Pox getting among the Indians, full
Half of those taken sick were carried off by it: Which a Portuguese
Missionary observing, and having met by Chance with an Account of
Inoculation in a News Paper, he try’d it on great Numbers of his
Indian Disciples, and preserved them all; which gave a high Opinion
both of the Man and his Religion. May.
III Month.
Content let all your Virtues lie unknown,
If there’s no Tongue to praise them, but your own,
Of Boasting more than of a Bomb afraid,
Merit should be as modest as a Maid.
Fame is a Bubble the Reserv’d enjoy,
who strive to grasp it, as they touch, destroy;
’Tis the World’s Debt to Deeds of high Degree;
But if you pay yourself, the World is free.
|
Tis hard (but glorious) to be poor and honest: An empty
Sack |
|
He that can bear a Reproof, and mend by it, if he is not
wise, is |
|
Beatus esse sine Virtute, nemo potest. |
On the 22d of this Month, 1453, was the famous
City of Constantinople, the Capital of the Greek Empire, taken from
the Christians by the Turks, who have ever since held it in
Possession. When it was besieg’d, the Emperor made most earnest
Application to his People, that they would contribute Money to
enable him to pay his Troops, and defray the Expence of defending
it; but they thro’ Covetousness refused, pretending Poverty,
&c. Yet the Turks in pillaging it, found so much Wealth among
them, that even their common Soldiers were enriched: And it became
a Saying, which continues to this Day, when they observe a Man
grown suddenly rich, He has been at the Sack of
Constantinople.
O Avarice! How blind are thy Votaries!
How often by grasping at too much, do they lose all, and themselves
with it! The Thirst of More, encreases with the Heap;
and to the restless Desire of Getting, is added the cruel
Fear of Losing, a Torment from which the Poor are free. And
Death often scatters all we have with so much Care and Toil been
gathering;
High built Abundance, Heap on Heap for what?
To breed new Wants, and beggar us the more;
Then make a richer Scramble for the Throng?
Soon as this feeble Pulse, which leaps so long
Almost by Miracle, is tir’d with Play,
Like Rubbish from disploding Engines thrown,
Our Magazines of hoarded Trifles fly;
Fly diverse; fly to Foreigners, to Foes:
New Masters court, and call the former Fool,
(How justly!) for Dependance on their Stay,
Wide scatter, first, our Playthings, then our Dust.
“Daphnis, says Clio, has a charming Eye;
What Pity ’tis her Shoulder is awry?
Aspasia’s Shape indeed—but then her Air,
’Twould ask a Conj’rer to find Beauty there.”
Without a But Hortensia she commends,
The first of Women, and the best of Friends;
Owns her in Person, Wit, Fame, Virtue, bright;
But how comes this to pass?—She dy’d last Night.
|
Sound, and sound Doctrine, may pass through a Ram’s
Horn, |
|
Clean your Finger, before you point at my Spots. |
On the 7th of this Month, 1692, the Town of
Port Royal, in Jamaica, was sunk by a fearful Earthquake.
The Day was very clear, and afforded no
Suspicion of the least Evil; but in the Space of three Minutes,
about half an Hour after 11 in the Morning, the fine Town was
shaken to Pieces, sunk into, and cover’d, for the greater Part, by
the Sea: By the falling of the Houses, Opening of the Earth, and
Inundation of the Waters, near 2000 Persons were lost, many of
Note.
For some Days afterwards, ’twas dismal to see
the Harbour cover’d with the dead Bodies of People of all
Conditions, floating up and down without Burial: For the great
Burial Place, was destroy’d by the Earthquake; which dashing to
Pieces the Tombs, whereof there were Hundreds in that Place, the
Sea washed the Carcasses of those who had been buried out of their
Graves.
A Sickness followed, which carried off some
Thousands more.
During the Earthquake, Thieves robbed and
plundered the Sufferers, even among the Ruins, while the Earth
trembled under their Feet. Some were killed in the very Act by
falling Walls, &c. July. V
Month.
On Time.
See Time launch’d forth, in solemn Form
proceed,
And Man on Man advance, and Deed on Deed!
No Pause, no Rest in all the World appears,
Ev’n live long Patriarchs waste their 1000 Years.
Some Periods void of Science and of Fame,
Scarce e’er exist, or leave behind a Name;
Meer sluggish Rounds, to let Succession climb,
Obscure, and idle Expletives of Time.
|
He that spills the Rum, loses that only; He that drinks it,
often |
That Ignorance makes devout, if right the Notion,
Troth, Rufus, thou’rt a Man of great Devotion.
A plain, clean, and decent Habit, proportioned
to one’s Circumstances, is one Mark of Wisdom. Gay Cloathing so
generally betokens a light and empty Mind, that we are surpriz’d if
we chance to find good Sense under that disguise.
Vain are the Studies of the Fop and Beau,
Who all their Care expend on outward Show.
Of late abroad was young Florello seen;
How blank his Look! How discompos’d his Mien!
So hard it proves in Grief sincere to feign,
Sunk were his Spirits,—for his Coat was plain?
Next Day his Breast regain’d its wonted Peace,
His Health was mended—with a Silver Lace.
What an admirable Invention is Writing, by
which a Man may communicate his Mind without opening his Mouth, and
at 1000 Leagues Distance, and even to future Ages, only by the Help
of 22 Letters, which may be joined 5852616738497664000 Ways, and
will express all Things in a very narrow Compass. ’Tis a Pity this
excellent Art has not preserved the Name and Memory of its
Inventor.
Bed-Bugs, by some called Chinces,
because first brought from China in East-India Goods, are easily
destroy’d, Root and Branch, by boiling Water, poured from a
Teakettle into the Joints, &c. of the Bedstead, or squirted by
a Syringe, where it cannot well be poured. The old Ones are scalded
to Death, and the Nits spoilt, for a boil’d Egg never hatches. This
done once a Fortnight, during the Summer, clears the House.
Probatum est. August. VI
Month.
Others behold each nobler Genius thrive,
And in their generous Labours long survive;
By Learning grac’d, extend a distant Light;
Thus circling Science has her Day and Night.
Rise, rise, ye dear Cotemporaries, rise;
On whom devolve these Seasons and these Skies!
Assert the Portion destin’d to your Share,
And make the Honour of the Times your Care.
|
Those that have much Business must have much Pardon. |
|
Discontented Minds, and Fevers of the Body are not to be
cured |
Little Strokes,
Fell great Oaks.
The 22d of this Month, 1711, the English Fleet,
sent against Canada, was shipwrecked in the Bay of St.
Lawrence.
From Martial.
Vitam quae faciunt beatiorem,
&c.
I fancy, O my Friend, that this
In Life bids fair for Happiness;
Timely an Estate to gain,
Left, or purchased by your Pain:
Grounds that pay the Tiller’s Hire,
Woods to furnish lasting Fire;
Safe from Law t’enjoy your own,
Seldom view the busy Town;
Health with moderate Vigour join’d;
True well-grounded Peace of Mind;
Friends, your Equals in Degree,
Prudent, plain Simplicity;
Easy Converse Mirth afford,
Artless Plenty fill the Board;
Temp’rate Joy your Ev’nings bless,
Free from Care as from Excess:
Short the Night by Sleep be made,
Chaste, not chearless, be the Bed:
Chuse to be but what you are;
And Dying neither wish nor fear.
Still be your darling Study Nature’s Laws;
And to its Fountain trace up every Cause.
Explore, for such it is, this high Abode,
And tread the Paths which Boyle and Newton trod.
Lo, Earth smiles wide, and radiant Heav’n looks down,
All fair, all gay, and urgent to be known!
Attend, and here are sown Delights immense,
For every Intellect, and every Sense.
|
You may be too cunning for One, but not for All. |
|
Genius without Education is like Silver in the Mine. |
|
Many would live by their Wits, but break for want of
Stock. |
|
Poor Plain dealing! dead without Issue! |
The 3d of this Month, 1658, died Oliver Cromwell, aged 60 Years. A great Storm happen’d
the Night he died, from whence his Enemies took Occasion to say,
The D---l fetch’d him away in a Whirlwind: But his Poet Waller, in
some Verses on his Death, gave that Circumstance quite a different
Turn. He begins with these lofty Lines; viz.
We must resign, Heav’n his great Soul does claim,
In Storms as loud as his immortal Fame;
His dying Groans, his last Breath shakes our Isle,
And Trees uncut fall for his Fun’ral Pile, &c.
When the King came in, Waller made his Peace by
a congratulatory Poem to his Majesty: And one Day ’tis said the
King asked him jocularly, What is the Reason, Mr. Waller, that
your Verses on Oliver are so much better than those you made
on me? We Poets, my Liege, reply’d he, always succeed
better in Fiction than in Truth.
Much Learning shows how little Mortals know;
Much Wealth, how little Worldlings can enjoy.
At best it baby’s us with endless Toys,
And keeps us Children ’till we drop to Dust.
As Monkies at a Mirror stand amaz’d,
They fail to find what they so plainly see;
Thus Men, in shining Riches, see the Face
Of Happiness, nor know it is a Shade;
But gaze, and touch, and peep, and peep again,
And wish, and wonder it is absent still.
With Adoration think, with Rapture gaze,
And hear all Nature chant her Maker’s Praise;
With Reason stor’d, by Love of Knowledge fir’d,
By Dread awaken’d, and by Love inspir’d,
Can We, the Product of another’s Hand,
Nor whence, nor how, nor why we are, demand?
And, not at all, or not aright employ’d,
Behold a Length of Years, and all a Void?
|
You can bear your own Faults, and why not a Fault in your
Wife. |
|
Tho’ Modesty is a Virtue, Bashfulness is a Vice. |
Hide not your Talents, they for Use were made.
What’s a Sun-Dial in the Shade!
On the first of this Month, 1680, the great
Comet appeared in England, and continued blazing near 3 Months. Of
these surprizing Bodies, Astronomers hitherto know very little;
Time and Observation, may make us better acquainted with them, and
if their Motions are really regular, as they are supposed to be,
enable us hereafter to calculate with some Certainty the Periods of
their Return. They have heretofore been thought Forerunners of
National Calamities, and Threateners of Divine Vengeance on a
guilty World. Dr. Young, intimates this Opinion, in his Paraphrase
on that Chapter of Job, where the Deity challenges the
Patriarch, and convinces him of the Weakness of Man;
Who drew the Comet out to such a Size,
And pour’d his flaming Train o’er Half the Skies!
Did thy Resentment bang him out? Does he
Glare on the Nations, and denounce from Thee?
The Summer Fruits now gathered in,
Let thankful Hearts in chearful Looks be seen;
Ope the Hospitable Gate,
Ope for Friendship, not for State;
Neighbours and Strangers enter there
Equal to all of honest Air;
To Rich or Poor of Soul sincere.
Cheap bought Plenty, artless Store,
Feed the Rich, and fill the Poor;
Converse chear the sprightly Guest,
Cordial Welcome crown the Feast;
Easy Wit with Candour fraught,
Laughter genuine and unsought;
Jest from double Meaning free,
Blameless, harmless Jollity;
Mirth, that no repenting Gloom
Treasures for our Years to come.
Happy, thrice happy he! whose conscious Heart,
Enquires his Purpose, and discerns his Part;
Who runs with Heed, th’ involuntary Race,
Nor lets his Hours reproach him as they pass;
Weighs how they steal away, how sure, how fast,
And as he weighs them, apprehends the last.
Or vacant, or engag’d, our Minutes fly;
We may be negligent, but we must die.
|
What signifies knowing the Names, if you know not the
Natures |
|
Tim was so learned, that he could name a Horse in nine
Lan- |
|
The Golden Age never was the present Age. |
On the 30th of this Month, 1718, Charles XII.
of Sweden, the modern Alexander, was kill’d before Fredericstadt.
He had all the Virtues of a Soldier, but, as is said of the
Virtues of Cesar, they undid his Country: Nor did they upon
the whole afford himself any real Advantage. For after all his
Victories and Conquests, he found his Power less than at first, his
Money spent, his Funds exhausted, and his Subjects thinn’d
extreamly. Yet he still warr’d on, in spite of Reason and Prudence,
till a small Bit of Lead, more powerful than they, persuaded
him to be quiet.
On what Foundation stands the Warrior’s Pride?
How just his Hopes, let Swedish Charles decide;
A Frame of Adamant, a Soul of Fire,
No Dangers fright him, and no Labours tire;
O’er Love, o’er Force, extends his wide Domain,
Unconquer’d Lord of Pleasure and of Pain;
No Joys to him pacific Scepters yield,
War sounds the Trump, he rushes to the Field;
Behold surrounding Kings their Pow’r combine,
And one capitulate, and one resign;
Peace courts his Hand, but spreads her Charms in vain,
“Think nothing gain’d, he cries, ’till nought remain;
On Moscow’s Walls till Gothic Standards fly,
And all is mine beneath the Polar Sky.”
The March begins in military State,
And Nations on his Eye suspended wait;
Stern Famine guards the solitary Coast,
And Winter barricades the Realms of Frost;
He comes, nor Want nor Cold his Course delay;
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa’s Day:
The vanquish’d Hero leaves his broken Bands,
And shews his Miseries in distant Lands;
Condemn’d a needy Supplicant to wait,
While Ladies interpose, and Slaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her Error mend?
Did no subverted Empire mark his End?
Did rival Monarchs give the fatal Wound?
Or hostile Millions press him to the Ground?
His Fall was destin’d to a barren Strand,
A petty Fortress, and a dubious Hand;
He left the Name at which the World grew pale,
To point a Moral, or adorn a Tale.
And thou supreme of Beings and of Things
Who breath’st all Life, and giv’st Duration Wings;
Intense, O let me for thy Glory burn,
Nor fruitless view my Days and Nights return;
Give me with Wonder at thy Works to glow;
To grasp thy Vision, and thy Truths to know;
To reach at length thy everlasting Shore,
And live and sing ’till Time shall be no more.
|
’Tis a Shame that your Family is an Honour to you! You
ought to |
|
Glass, China, and Reputation, are easily crack’d, and never
well |
On the 7th of this Month, 1683, was the
honourable Algernon Sidney, Esq; beheaded, charg’d with a pretended
Plot, but whose chief Crime was the Writing an excellent Book,
intituled, Discourses on Government. A Man of
admirable Parts and great Integrity. Thompson calls him the British
Cassius. The good Lord Russel and he were intimate Friends; and as
they were Fellow Sufferers in their Death, the Poet joins them in
his Verses,
Bring every sweetest Flower, and let me strow
The Grave where Russel lies; whose temper’d Blood
With calmest Chearfulness for thee resign’d,
Stain’d the sad Annals of a giddy Reign,
Aiming at lawless Power, tho’ meanly sunk,
In loose inglorious Luxury. With him
His Friend, the British Cassius, fearless bled;
Of high, determin’d Spirit, roughly brave,
By ancient Learning to th’ enlighten’d Love
Of ancient Freedom warm’d.
Of Courts.
If any Rogue vexatious Suits advance
Against you for your known Inheritance:
Enter by Violence your fruitful Grounds,
Or take the sacred Land-mark from your Bounds;
Or if your Debtors do not keep their Day,
Deny their Hands, and then refuse to pay;
You must with Patience all the Terms attend,
Among the common Causes that depend,
Till yours is call’d:—And that long-look’d-for Day,
Is still encumber’d with some new Delay:
Your Proofs and Deeds all on the Table spread,
Some of the B------ch perhaps are sick a-bed;
That J---ge steps out to light his Pipe, while this
O’er night was boozy, and goes out to p---ss.
Some Witness miss’d; some Lawyer not in Town,
So many Rubs appear, the Time is gone,
For Hearing, and the tedious Suit goes on.
Then rather let two Neighbours end your Cause,
And split the Difference; tho’ you lose one Half;
Than spend the Whole, entangled in the Laws,
While merry Lawyers sly, at both Sides laugh.
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