read, or cried, but the reader, or hearer, will query what it is about, conclude it some maggot or other, and, to be satisfied, will buy it; so, you will gain by his curiosity. Then I have known many dull books, that have sold well, by the help of an ingenious, or whimsical title.Puffe me, Puffe mo, Puffe cannot stay, Colle molle Puff;' the odness and maggot of that cry has sold the fellow many a tart; for many persons, who only out of curiosity have peeped into his basket, have found something or other that pleased them. Besides the title is apropo, because the subjects I write about, though they make a great bustle in the world, yet their conclusions, or produce, are very frivolous, insignificant, and answer not the end designed.

Printer. To what purpose, did you spend your time in writing on such subjects? And why should I be at the labour of printing, or charge of paper?

Author. Print it by all means; it may employ some to add to it the history of the printer.

prove

Printer. What, that my pains was labour in vain, and charge signified little or nothing? I am mightily obliged to you, for the method you have taken, to expose me to laughter: but let it as it will, if I buy the devil, I will try to sell him. But, if your whim does not take, I will never buy goods again, before I have looked over the parcel.

The Poor Man's Petitioning at Court.

HOW fruitless and empty the requests of the poor have returned at court, whether they have been for justice or mercy, is apparent from a thousand instances: and one I will relate to you, without a peevish design of reflecting upon any particular court, for the pauper's petition is alike neglected, by what I have seen, heard, or read, in every court. A gentleman, fitly qualified, who by permission had purchased an employ for life, under a king, and to his successors, upon a successor's coming to the crown (though he had taken oaths of allegiance, and done what was requisite, according to law, for qualification) to feed the avarice, or gratify the wicked bounty of a certain person, to whose care the managery was intrusted, was turned out, with only the madman's humorous reason, Sic jubeo, sic volo. By which unjust, at least, unkind usage, he had very little left to maintain himself, wife, and four children.

At once, his quondam friends sounded retreat,
Would scarce afford good words, and much less meat :
To see his face, they'd never after care,

As if his very looks infectious were:

Like careful bees, to their own hives, they flew,

As he from fortune, they from him withdrew.

I cannot forbear, in this place, putting the epithet wicked, to that generous virtue, bounty; since here it was a powerful robbery

committed upon one man's right, to seem bounteous in a bequest to another. The deprived man, hurt, complained with all the respect, a supplicant should use; but his prayer was answered with a negative. Afterwards he served that king without pay in his army abroad, and, upon the death of the possessor of his employ, he again prayed to be restored; upon which prayer, he had an order for the next vacancy, which when happened, a certain gentleman, who but a short time before had presented the deprived man to the king, in the army, and had given it under his hand, that he had been turned out, without cause, and that he served as a volunteer; gave it again under his hand, that the poor petitioner's alledging to have served in the army, was a mistake; and his last act (the former, in good manners, I will believe, being forgot) was credited; so order and petition were both dismissed, to the ruin of the man, and his family.

Observation.

By this true relation, is evident the little success, that is to be expected from the poor unhappy man's petitioning against a man in power; for, when he pleases, he blackens and misrepresents an underling; and what a favourite says is easily believed.

Then tell me how the poor shall find relief,

Or gain a cure for undeserved grief,

Their fate depending on a king's belief.

In such a case, a prince is the easiest man in the world to be imposed on, considering the vast multitude of affairs, that center in his ordering and manage, the particular cognisance of all which it is impossible for him to take; for, upon a kind of necessity, he is obliged to have his knowledge of several affairs, from the report that those about him are pleased to make; and what man will tell a story to his own disadvantage? And who can tell it but the favourite, whilst the poor petitioner is debarred access?

Before a fav'rite, none shall be believ❜d,
And 'gainst the rich, 'tis hard to be reliev❜d:
In vain you offer up an empty prayer,
Which fattens not the courtier, or his heir;
Something that's solid, and of real good
(At least for such by worldlings understood)
Must be presented, if you'd favour find,

Which rarely warms th' endowments of the mind:
But to the fortunate, and rich, are kind.
Since money weighs down justice and desert,
The poor's desires don't signify a fart.

Expectations of Benefit from a covetous Man, in his Life-time.

}

QUIS Pauper? Avarus: an admirable and proper answer to the question; because the covetous man wanteth that which he hath,

as well as that which he hath not; as proves true, by the following relation. A friend of mine, if a covetous man can be so, of genteel extraction, and suitable education, having a competent estate of four hundred pounds per annum, and a thousand pounds in money, left him; which revenue as far exceeding his desire of living, as it came short of his desire of acquiring; for he no sooner had the possession, but he retrenched the usual expences of the family; he saved charge, by putting away the mouths that caused it; and the only servant that he kept lived almost like a bear in Greenland, on the nourishment he had got in the summer of the father's life-time. In short, no anchorite lived more sparing than he, unless it were upon another's cost, and then it was a covetous humour made him eat and drink like a glutton and a drunkard. In all his actions he was base; he would steal his own goods, to make his servant pay for them. By such sordid ways his wealth was accumulated; he sold the mansion-house, because the purchase money would yield a greater profit, than the rent amounted to; and retired from a great house (not from plenty and abundance) to a less, that he could not rent out. By such niggardly methods, in process of time, he had heaped up a very great treasure.

There was a young hopeful gentleman, his nephew, who expected to reap the fruits of his covetousness, that often came to visit him, and was always complaisant, soothed, and commended every humour, which I take to be the right way of pleasing; for certain (at least, during the time of prevailing fancy, or action) every man is pleased with his own sentiments, or doings; so consequently loves to have them approved and applauded.

He gratified the miser's appetite at his own expence, his pantry and his cellar were always ready to gratify his least motion of desire, his coach and horses attended his occasions. He baulked his own humour, neglected his pleasant and facetious companions, and confined himself to oblige his sordid temper. Though, it must be confessed, self interest moved him, yet it pleased the wretch, when he advised him to secure his treasure, that no Rachel, or other, might steal his god. He christened his son of the Jew's name; he did, what not? to oblige him. He defended him from robbers, at the peril of his own life: nay more, he justified his base principles, contrary to his conscience; but all the returns, that were paid to these services, were mountain promises, whilst in his cups; but mole hills, or no performances, when sober.

Afterwards this obliging gentleman fell by misfortune into straits and necessities, so that his family wanted convenient subsistence; yet the other, pitiless, and unconcerned, returned no good nature, no charity, no grateful act, for all his generous obligations; not so much as even common humanity would, out of mercy, oblige a very Jew to shew to a stranger in misery. After the miser had bought what he had left, for half the value, he forbid him his house, and, whenever he met him, he passed by him as a stranger. At last, intestate the miserable rascal dies; for the very thought of disposing of his riches would have been as mortal as a cannon-shot:

So volens nolens, what he left, fell to this gentleman. But I had almost forgot to tell you, that his jealous temper, which must accompany the covetous, let their avarice be fixed on what it will, made him bury a great part of his money and writings; so that a great deal was lost for want of the knowledge of the conceal

ments.

Observation.

A covetous desire is properly applicable to self, for, even when I seem to desire the advantage of another, there is something of self in the matter; and it must be allowed, that he, I wish well, is my friend; though another's being my enemy only makes him so; so, by my desire, I gratify my own inclination, in my friend's advantage, or please my anger, in my enemy's disadvantage. A covetous man's thoughts center in his own profit, and what good goes besides him, he counts by Providence wrong applied; then it is idle to expect, that he, that covets all, should frustrate his vast design, by giving me a part; as covetousness is a selfish humour, it is impossible it should be diffusive.

The miser's wish is of a vast extent,

And would engross, beneath the firmament,
All that it likes; still covetous, to try
To merchandize with spirits of the sky.
His wishes only to advantage tend,

From self's their origin, in self they end;
So cannot be diffusive to a friend.

In vain a favour you expect from such,

}

You may as well expect a favour from the D

The Marriage of an old Man to a young Woman.

THE mutual disappointments, that commonly thwart, and hinder the happiness expected by the marriage of an old man to a young woman, the following story sets forth. An ancient gentleman, whose head age had powdered like a beau's, who in his sprightly youth could at sight answer the expectations of the most lascivious female, as Doctor's-commons, and parish-books could witness; he had lived a libertine life, and had never thoughts of marriage, till he was threescore and ten, when he happened into the company of a beautiful young woman, whose charms and behaviour blew away the ashes that covered the fire that remained in the brand's end; so that it made a faint blaze, which (of late unaccustomed) warmth made the (willing to be deceived) senior fancy that there was yet a great stock of vigour in his veins, that would answer the ends of marriage. Thus, when lechery had left his tail, and, agitated only by desire, he fancied mighty performances in his lustful brain, he courts this lady for his bride, who had not the charms to renew an old son's age; sensible that his expiring flame could not long last, he was impatient of delay. So, by con

tinual courtship, he tried to watch his mistress, like a hawk, into compliance. But it was persuasive money that made her consent to endure a Lenten penance, in expectation of an happy Easter after his death. In short, she for filthy lucre married him, and submitted herself to his feeble threescore and ten years attempts. After his fluttering all the wedding-day, they were put to bed (I think that word suitable to his age) and after sack-posset eat, and stocken thrown, the company withdrew, and left them to themselves. When he failed in performance, she was frustrated in her expectation, so that their marriage signified little or nothing.

Observation.

The answer I make, to those that will say, 'Every body knew this story before,' is, 'That, though I pretend to write novels, I do not novelties, but to dress up something that for one meal may be pleasing, and of grateful gust; and, perhaps, some observation may be made from this story worthy self-application:' But, though the reader do not, I will, to continue the method I first designed.

To attempt any thing, which nothing but (almost) a miracle can make successful, is folly and madness; and little less can move a man of threescore years and ten to do--to any purpose. An old man's marrying a young woman is like laying down a good joint of meat, to an almost consumed fire, which will blaze a while, but by the sudden decay, for want of fuel, will make it but lukewarm. He is counted a blockhead that pretends to set up a trade, when he is past labour, unless he takes an able journeyman; and I believe, in this case, no man will willingly admit of a journeyman to manage his commodity, and without one (by effects may be judged) the marriage will signify little towards procreation. Disappointments must happen to the man from natural consequence, notwithstanding the mighty belief of his abilities. I have known, from powerful fancy, when a child has been tired with walking, yet, imagining he rode when he had a switch between his legs, would imitate the trot and gallop, for a small while, without complaining; but presently the weakness and imbecillity of his feet made him sensible his natural strength (though agitated by desire) could not carry him to his desired home: So the old, whose vigorous heat is spent, may imagine, if he get a cock-horse, how furiously he will ride; but, like the tired child, his natural decay will appear.

The man being deceived, by consequence the woman must; and what sad effects do such disappointments cause, are evident from the future carriage of both man and woman. He grows jealous, unwilling another should feed, tho' he himself cannot make use of the dainties; then the poor abused woman is watched, perhaps confined, and her whole life made uneasy.

Like a poor man (cajolled by mighty promises) transported to the West Indies; when he comes there, finding himself a slave to the beck and rod of an imperious patron, being fast bound by con