tention without fatiguing it. A leveret was given him, and in the management of such an animal, and in the attempt to tame it, he thought to find an agreeable employment. Many others were offered to him, but he accepted only two more, and undertook the care of all three, which happened to be all males. Each had a separate apartment, so contrived, that the dirt made fell through into an earthen pan, which was daily emptied and washed. In the day-time they had the range of a hall, and at night retired each to his own bed, never intruding into that of another. We shall distinguish them by the letters A. B. C. and continue in the words of the author. A. grew presently familiar; he would leap into my lap, would let me take him in my arms, and has frequently fallen fast asleep on my knee. He was once ill for three days, during which time I nursed him; after his recovery he showed his gratitude by licking my hand and fingers all over, which he never did but once again on a similar occasion. Sometimes I carried him into the garden after breakfast, where he hid himself generally under the leaves of a cucumber vine, sleeping and chewing the cud till evening; in the leaves also of that vine he found a favourite repast. I always admitted them into the parlour after supper, where they would frisk and bound about on the carpet. One evening the cat had the hardiness to pat C. on the cheek, which he resented by drumming on her back so violently as to make her glad to escape. Each of these animals had a character of its own, and I knew them all by their face only; like a shepherd who soon becomes familiar to his flock, however numerous, as to know them every one individually by their looks. These creatures immediately discovered and examined the minutest alteration in the apartments they were accustomed to play in, just as cats do. The C. died young. B. lived to be nine years old, and died by a fall. A. has just completed his tenth year. I lately introduced a dog to his acquaintance; a spaniel that had never seen a hare, to a hare that had never seen a spaniel. hare discovered no token of fear, nor the dog the least symptom of hostility: they eat bread at the same time out of the same hand, and are very sociable and friendly. Hares have no ill scent belonging to them, and are indefatigably nice in keeping themselves clean. The foregoing is an abridgment of an account of hares, inserted by Mr. Cowper in one of the Gentleman's Magazines for the year 1784. It has The kindness shown to B. had not the least effect. He too was sick, and I attended him; but if, after his recovery, I took the liberty to strekeikewise been published at the end of only the him, he would grunt, strike, and bite. He was, however, very entertaining. C. who died soon after he was full grown, from a cold caught by sleeping in a damp box, was a hare of great humour and drollery. A. was tamed by gentle usage; B was not to be tamed at all; but C. was tame from the beginning. common editions of his works, to which we refer. By a memorandum found aniong Mr. C.'s papers, it appears that A. died aged twelve years A short wanting a month, of mere old age. Latin epitaph in prose on A. and another of eleven stanzas in English verse on B. accompany the account. DIALOGUE BETWIXT SOMEBODY AND NOBODY. Somebody. WHY, 'tis as hard to get a sight || late have affected a great deal of consequence, of you, Mr. Nobody, as it is of the invisible girl. I have called twenty times a day at your house. Nobody at home, is the constant answer. If 1 should go to church, however, I am sure to meet with Nobody there, especially when Dr. Triplechin preaches. Nobody. And you're sure to meet with Somebody in all places of public resort, the opera, play, pic-nic, card-parties, &c. Somebody. Yes: and you will often meet with Nobody in those places, that would wish to pass for Somebody. when it is well known, that the Nobody family are the more ancient of the two. The Nobodies, I assure you, Sir, are the true Pre-adamites. The name is on record long before Adam. Somebody. So is the family of Blank. Nobody. A very old race. Somebody. If we may credit the Spectator, they once filled all places of public trust in this kingdom. Nobody In trust for others, particularly the family of the Blocks. Somebody. The Blocks one day or other will be Nobody. 'Tis true, the Somebody family of the ruin of this nation. Nobody. For myself, I have more distrust of the talents. Somebody. But what does genealogy, in these degenerate days? Get your nativity cast in the mint: a thousand guineas in your purse is worth all the Aps, Macs, and O's in the united kingdom. If there's a stain in your character, a little gold dust will take it out-the best fuller's earth in the nation. What does it avail, that your ancestors bled in the front of battle, piled up thunder for the insulting foe, or diffused the stream of science through a thousand channels! don't you see the upstart hung round with titles, and the obscurity of his birth lost in the glare of his sideboard? many faults laid to your account: thus when a favourite article of furniture is spoiled or broken, Nobody did it. Thus also when a lady affects indisposition, she sees Nobody, speaks to Nobody, writes to Nobody, dreams of Nobody. Nobody. But her waiting-woman knows that she sees Somebody, speaks to Somebody, writes to Somebody, and dreams of Somebody. When a fine lady shines forth in all the glory of the Persian loom, showered with diamonds, and perfumed with all the sweets of Arabia, if the spouse should collect courage enough to ask who paid for all those fine things, the answer is, Nobody; but when the account comes to be Nobody. True: and yet Bonaparte would give settled at Doctors' Commons, then it is found that a good deal for a genealogy. Somebody. Yes: the French, who seem to be proud of the chains he has imposed on them, have really turned his head; they have fed him with the soft pap of flattery, they have inflated him with the gas of vanity to the size of an airballoon, and yet withal they cannot manufacture a genealogy so as to please him: his father was Nobody. Nobody. And happy would it be for the repose of mankind, if he had been content to tread in the steps of his father. Somebody. Happy indeed. Now, my good friend, I wish you well, but am often surprised that you swallow things without the least examination-things that would stick in the wide throat of credulity. For instance, when the editor of a newspaper tells you that his print exclusively contains the earliest and most authentic articles of information, Nobody believes him When Bonaparte says, that he'll invade this country, Nobody believes him. When a pensioner or placeman declares that he has nothing so much at heart as the good of his country, Nobody believes him. When a quack doctor tells you that his nostrum cures all diseases, Nobody believes him. When a boarding-school Miss, in the bud of beauty, declares that she would not for the world take a flight to GretnaGreen, Nobody believes her. I know there are Somebody paid for them, or is to pay for them, with a vengeance too. One thing I remark, that, previous to the nuptial tie, the dear youth is always considered as Somebody, but whilst the honey moon is yet in its wane he is looked upon as Nobody. Somebody. Very true. After all I have said, I must acknowledge, in the words of Goldsmith, "that even your failings lean to virtue's side." For instance: if a play should be got up, puffed, and d-d, it is applauded by Nobody. If a book printed on wire-wove paper, hot-pressed, bound in morocco, and elegantly gilt, is found to be wretched stuff, it is read by Nobody. If a book should be written in favour of religion and morality, though neglected by all, it is read by Nobody. If a wretch should be consigned to the gallows for robbing a man of sixpence on the highway, he is pitied by Nobody, he is owned by Nobody, he is comforted by Nobody; whilst on the other hand, if a villain in high life should rob an unsuspecting virgin of her heart, or triumph over her in nocence Nobody. He is noticed by Somebody, caressed by Somebody, applauded by Somebody, invited to dine by Somebody, and held out by Somebody as the honestest and worthiest fellow in the universe. Somebody. Too true. SELECT ANECDOTES AND SAYINGS OF M. DE CHAMFORT, M. DE LA BEAUMELLE, AND OTHERS. "I LOVE Society," said one of the French Princesses of the blood royal: every budy listens to me, and I listen to nobody." Great memories, which retain every thing indiscriminately, are like masters of inns, and not masters of houses. A French player, performing at Turin, thus addressed the pit: "Illustrious strangers." Locke says, wit consists in distinguishing wherein different objects resemble each other; and judgment consists in distinguishing, wherein objects which resemble each other differ. It was said of two particular persons with whom Madame du Deffant (the blind lady commemorated by Horace Walpole) was acquainted, "They are two good heads." "Pins heads," said she. A person was telling an extraordinary story to a Gascon; he smiled. "What, Sir! do not you believe me?" asked the story-teller." Pardon me, but I cannot repeat your story because of my accent." Montaigne never knew what he was going to say, but he always knew what he was saying. A person who wishes to receive instruction by reading, ought to make it an inviolable rule to understand all he reads. which causes us to feel pleasure in the perfections of what we love. Projectors are too much listened to, and too much decried. The first, because three-fourths of them are wrong in their calculations, or else want to deceive others; they are fools or knaves. The last, because the welfare of an empire sometimes depends upon a project. Projectors are the physicians of states. They conjecture, affirm, and tell falsities equally. Their reputation depends on chance and prejudice. Both profit by human folly, and are enriched by the same means as have ruined thousands of others. Both live in hope and dread: they are both laughed at, and, nevertheless, we cannot do without them. Upon the whole, are they more noxious than useful? This appears an embarrassing ques Chance is the concatenation of effects of which tion. It may be said, that it might perhaps we do not perceive the causes. At twenty we kill pleasure, at thirty taste it, at forty we are sparing of it, at fifty we seek it, and at sixty regret it. Let us enjoy to the last moment the benefit of the present hour. Above all, let us take care not to anticipate our troubles: we only depend on the future when we suffer the present to escape us. Moreover, it is enjoyment, says Montaigne, and not possession, which makes us happy. On this subject Pascal says, "If we are so slightly attached to the present, it is because the present is generally disagreeable; we endeavour to avoid seeing it if it afflicts us; and if it pleases us, we regret its escape. We then attempt to continue this pleasure by endeavouring to dispose things, which are not in our power, against a future time to which we have no certainty of attaining. An expression of Wieland, in his Agathon"I enjoyed that felicity which gives to days the rapidity of moments, and to moments the value of ages." Voltaire says, labour delivers us from three great evils, weariness, want, and vice. Ninon de l'Enclos defined love as a sensation rather than a sentiment; a blind taste, purely sensual; a transient illusion, to which pleasure gives birth, which converse destroys, and which supposes no merit, neither in the lover nor in the beloved object: she said it was the intoxication of reason. Leibnitz defined it to be an affection have been better had there never been projectors nor physicians; but since they have existed, and still exist, it is proper that some should always remain, were it only to remedy the evils occasioned by their predecessors. An old French nobleman told a lady, that formerly his polite attentions were taken for declarations of love, but that now his declarations of love, were only taken for polite attentions. A French gentleman had courted a young lady some months, at last the mother asked him whether, by thus continuing his courtship to her daughter, he meant to marry her, or otherwise. To tell you the truth, madam, replied he, it is for otherwise. Men love goodness because they stand in need of it: they hate those virtues which are in opposition to their vices; and they admire those talents to which they cannot attain. A seal for love letters might be engraven with this device, a boy's head with wings representing the wind, blowing on a weathercock: its motto, if thou changest not, I turn not. Balnea, vina, Venus, corrumpunt corpora nostra, Christina, Queen of Sweden, (who died in 1654), left as a maxin, "A wise and good man will forget the past, either enjoy or support the present, and resign himself to the future." OF THE CAUSES OF OLD AGE. our As the world waxeth old, men grow old with it not by reason of the age of the world, but because of the great increase of living creatures, which infect the very air, that every way encompasseth us : and through negligence in ordering our lives, and that great|| ignorance of the properties which are in things conducing to health, which might help a disordered way of living, and might supply the defect of due government. From these three things, namely, infection, negligence, and ignorance, the natural heat, after the time of manhood is past, begins to diminish, and its diminution and intemperature doth more and more hasten on. Whence, the heat by little and little decreasing, the accidents of old age come on, which accidents in the flower of age may be taken away; and after that time may be retarded; as also may that swift course, which hurries a man from manhood to age, from age to old age, from old age to the broken strength of decrepid age, be restrained. For the circle of a man's age grows more in one day after age to old age, than in three days after youth to age; and is sooner turned from old age to decrepid age, than from age to old age. No. XXIV. Vol. III. Which weakness and intemperature of heat, is caused two ways: by the decay of natural moisture, and by the increase of extraneous moisture. For the heat exists in the native moisture, and is extinguished by external and strange moistness, which flows from weakness of digestion, as Avicenna in his first book, in his chapter of Complexions, affirms. Now the causes of the dissolution of the internal moisture, and of the external's abounding, whence the innate heat grows cool, are many, as I shall here show. First of all, the dissolution of the natural happens from two causes: One whereof is the circumambient air, which dries up the matter: and the innate heat, which is inward, very much helps towards the same: for it is the cause of extinguishing itself, by reason it consumes the matter wherein it subsists; as the flame of a lamp is extinguished when the oil, exhausted by the heat, is spent. * The last five paragraphs were written by Richard Griffiths, an Irish author, who died about five-and-twenty years ago. They were taken from a small book written by him, entitled The Koran, which appeared anonymously, and some booksellers have erroneously published it as a volume of Sterne's works. Hh The second cause is the toil proceeding from the motions of the body and mind, which other wise are necessary in life. To these accrue weakness and defect of nature, which easily sinks under so great evils (as Avicenna witnesseth in his first book of Complexions of Ages), not resisting those imperfections that invade it. Now the motions of the mind are called animal, when the soul especially is exercised: The motions of the body are, when our bodies are tossed and stirred of necessary causes, ill pro portioned. External moisture increaséth two ways: either from the use of meat and other things that breed an unnatural and strange moisture, especially phlegmatic, whereof I shall discourse hereafter; or from bad concoction, whence a feculent and putrid humour, differing from the nature of the body, is propagated. For digestion is the root of the generation of unnatural and natural moisture, which when it is good, breeds good moisture, when bad a bad one, as Avicenna saith in his fourth cannon of his chapter of things which hinder grey hairs. For from wholesome food, ill digested, an evil hu mour doth flow; and of poisonous meats, and such as naturally breed a bad humour, if well digested, sometime comes a good one. But it is to be observed, that not only phlegm is called an extraneous humour, but whatever other humour is putrid. Yet phlegm is worse than the other external humour; in that it helps to extinguish the innate heat two ways, either by choaking it; or by cold resisting its power and quality; so Rasy in his chapter of the Benefits of Purging. Which phlegm proceeds from faults in meats, negligence of diet, and intemperature of body; so that this sort of external moisture increasing, and the native moisture being either changed in qualities, or decayed in quantity, man grows old, either in the accustomed course of nature, by little and little successively; when after the time of manhood, that is, after forty, or at most fifty years, the natural heat begins to diminish: or through evil thoughts and anxious care of mind, wherewith sometimes men are hurt. For sickness and such like evil accidents, dissolve and dry up the natural moisture, which is the fuel of heat; and that being hurt, the force and edge of the heat is made dull. The heat being cooled, the digestive virtue is weakened; and this not performing its office, the crude and incocted meat putrifies on the stomach. Whereupon the external and remore parts of the body being deprived of their nourishment, do languish, wither and die, because they are not nourished. Isaac in his book of Fevers in the chapter of the Consumption doth teach. So But it may be queried, what this moisture is, and in what place it is seated, whereby the natural heat is nourished, and which is its fuel? Some say, that it is in the hollow of the heart, and in the veins and arteries thereof, as Isaac in his book of fevers, in the chapter of the hectick. But there are moistures of divers kinds in the members which are prepared for nourishing, and to moisten the joints. Of which humours may be that is one which is in the vein, and that another which like dew is reposed on the members, as Avicenna saith in his fourth book in the chapter of the Hectick. Whence perhaps the wise do understand, that all these moistures are fuel to the native heat; but especially that which is in the heart and its veins and arteries, which is restored, when from meats and drinks good juices are supplied; and is made more excellent by outward medicines, such as anointings and bathings. OF REMEDIES AGAINST THE CAUSES OF OLD AGE. Hitherto we have discoursed of the causes of old age: now we must speak of the remedies which hinder them, and after what manner they may be hindered. Wise physicians have laid down two ways of opposing these causes: One is the ordering of a man's way of living; the other is the knowledge of those properties, that are in certain things, which the ancients have kept secret. Avicenna teacheth the ordering of life, who laying down, as it were, the art of guarding old age, ordereth that all putrefaction be carefully kept off, and that the native moisture be diligently preserved from dissolution and change, namely, that as great a share of moisture may be added by nutrition, as is spent by the flame of heat and otherwise. Now this care ought to be used in the time of manhood, that is, about the fortieth year of a man's age, when the beauty of a man is at the height. These ways of repelling the causes of old age do something differ one from another. For one is the beginning, the other the end: one begins, the other makes up the defect thereof; but each brings great assistance to the turning away of these evils. By one way alone the doctrine of the ancients will not be compleated: by the knowledge of each, both our endeavours and theirs may be perfected. The doctrine of soberly ordering one's life teacheth us how to oppose, drive away, and restrain the causes of old age. And this it doth by proportioning the six causes, distinct in kind, which are reckoned necessary to fence, preserve, and keep the body; which things, when they are observed and taken in quantity and quality, as they ought, and as |
