No. 511. "old Woman popped her Head out of it; at which the • Adventurer was in fo great a Rage, that he was going to ⚫fhoot her out into the River.. The old Lady, however, begged him first of all, to hear her Story, by which he learned that she was Sifter to a great Mandarin, who • would infallibly make the Fortune of his Brother-inLaw as foon as he fhould know to whofe Lot fhe fell. Upon which the Merchant again tied her up in his Sack, and carried her to his House, where fhe proved · an excellent Wife, and procured him all the Riches from her Brother that she had promised him.

I fancy if I was disposed to dream a fecond Time, I could make a tolerable Vifion upon this Plan. I ⚫ would fuppofe all the unmarried Women in London and Weftminster brought to Market in Sacks, with their refpective Prices on each Sack. The firft Sack that is ' fold is marked with five thousand Pound: Upon the opening of it, I find it filled with an admirable Houfewife, of an agreeable Countenance: The Purchaser, upon hearing her good Qualities, pays down her Price very chearfully. The fecond I would open, fhould be a ⚫ five hundred Pound Sack: The Lady in it, to our Surprize, has the Face and Perfon of a Toaft: As we are wondering how he came to be fet at fo low a Price, we hear that he would have been valued at ten thousand Pound, but that the Publick had made those Abatements for her being a Scold. I would afterwards find • fome beautiful, modeft, and difcreet Woman, that 'fhould be the top of the Market; and perhaps difco

ver half a dozen Romps tied up together in the fame • Sack, at one hundred Pound an Head. The Prude and the Coquet fhould be valued at the fame Price, tho' the first should go off the better of the two. I fancy ⚫thou wouldst like fuch a Vifion, had I Time to finish it; because, to talk in thy own way, there is a Mo⚫ral in it. Whatever thou may'ft think of it, pr'ythee do not make any of thy queer Apologies for this Letter, as thou didst for my last. The Women love a gay lively Fellow, and are never angry at the Railleries of one who is their known Admirer. I am always bitter upon them, but well with them.

Thine,

HONEYCOMB.

TH

Hor.

HERE is nothing which we receive with so much Reluctance as Advice. We look upon the Man who gives it us as offering an Affront to our Understanding, and treating us like Children or Idiots. We confider the Inftruction as an implicit Cenfure, and the Zeal which any one fhews for our Good on fuch an Occafion as a Piece of Prefumption or Impertinence. The Truth of it is, the Perfon who pretends to advife, does, in that Particular, exercise a Superiority over us, and can have no other Reafon for it, but that in comparing us with himself, he thinks us defective either in our Conduct or our Underftanding. For thefe Reasons, there is nothing fo difficult as the Art of making Advice agreeable; and indeed all the Writers, both ancient and modern, have diftinguished themselves among one another, according to the Perfection at which they have arrived in thisArt. How many Devices have been made use of to render this bitter Potion palatable? Some convey their Inftructions to us in the best chofen Words, others in the most harmonious Numbers, fome in Points of Wit, and others in fhort Proverbs.

Bur among all the different ways of giving Counsel, I think the fineft; and that which pleases the most univerfally, is Fable, in whatfoever Shape it appears. If we confider this way of inftructing or giving Advice, it excells all others, because it is the leaft fhocking, and the least subject to thofe Exceptions which I have before mentioned.

THIS will appear to us, if we reflect in the first Place, that upon the reading of a Fable we are made to believe we advise ourselves. We peruse the Author for the fake of the Story, and confider the Precepts rather as our own Conclufions, than his Inftructions. The Moral infinuates itself imperceptibly, we are taught by Surprize, and beVOL. VII.

come

come wiser and better unawares. In fhort, by this method a Man is fo far over-reached as to think he is directing himself, whilft he is following the Dictates of another, and confequently is not fenfible of that which is the moft unpleafing Circumftance in Advice.

In the next place, if we look into human Nature, we fhall find that the Mind is never fo much pleased, as when fhe exerts herself in any Action that gives her an Idea of her own Perfections and Abilities. This natural Pride and Ambition of the Soul is very much gratified in the reading of a Fable for in Writings of this Kind, the Reader comes in for half of the Performance; every thing appears to him like a Discovery of his own; he is bufied all the while in applying Characters and Circumstances, and is in this Refpect both a Reader and a Compofer. It is no wonder therefore that on fuch Occafions, when the Mind is thus pleased with itself, and amufed with its own Discoveries, that it is highly delighted with the Writing which is the Occafion of it. For this Reason the Abfalon and Achitophel was one of the most popular Poems that ever appeared in English. The Poetry is indeed very fine, but had it been much finer, it would not have fo much pleafed, without a Plan which gave the Reader an Opportunity of exerting his own Talents.

THIS oblique manner of giving Advice is fo inoffenfive, that if we look into ancient Hiftories, we find the wife Men of old very often chofe to give Counsel to their Kings in Fables. To omit many which will occur to every one's Memory, there is a pretty Inftance of this Nature in a Turkish Tale, which I do not like the worse for that little Oriental Extravagance which is mixed with it.

We are told that the Sultan Mahmoud, by his perpetual Wars abroad, and his Tyranny at home, had filled his Dominions with Ruin and Defolation, and half unpeopled the Perfian Empire. The Vifier to this great Sultan (whether an Humourist or an Enthufiaft, we are not informed) pretended to have learned of a certain Dervife to understand the Language of Birds, fo that there was not a Bird that could open his Mouth, but the Vifier knew what it was he faid. As he was one Evening with the Emperor, in their Return from Hunting, they faw a Couple of Owls upon a Tree that grew near an old Wall

Out

out of an Heap of Rubbish. I would fain know, says the Sultan, what these two Owls are faying to one another; liften to their Difcourfe and give me an Account of it. The Vifier approached the Tree, pretending to be very attentive to the two Owls. Upon his Return to the Sultan, Sir, fays he, I have heard Part of their Converfation, but dare not tell you what it is. The Sultan

would not be fatisfied with fuch an Answer, but forced him to repeat Word for Word every Thing the Owls had faid. You must know then, said the Vifier, that one of thefe Owls has a Son, and the other a Daugher, between whom they are now upon a Treaty of Marriage. The Father of the Son faid to the Father of the Daughter, in my hearing, Brother, I confent to this Marriage, provided you will fettle upon your Daughter fifty ruined Villages for her Portion. To which the Father of the Daughter replied, Inftead of fifty, I will give her five hundred, if you pleafe. God grant a long Life to Sultan Mahmoud; whilft he reigns over us, we shall never want ruined Villages.

THE Story fays, the Sultan was fo touched with the Fable, that he rebuilt the Towns and Villages which had been destroyed, and from that Time forward confulted the good of his People.

To fill up my Paper, I fhall add a moft ridiculous Piece of natural Magick, which was taught by no less a Philofopher than Democritus, namely, that if the Blood of certain Birds, which he mentioned, were mixed together, it would produce a Serpent of fuch a wonderful Virtue, that whoever did eat it should be skill'd in the Language of Birds, and understand every Thing they faid to one another. Whether the Dervife abovementioned might not have eaten fuch a Serpent, I fhall leave to the Determination of the Learned.

ex

No. 513.

Saturday, October 18.

Afflata eft numine quando

Jam propiore Dei.

T

Virg.

HE following Letter comes to me from that excellent Man in holy Orders, whom I have mentioned more than once as one of that Society who affift me in my Speculations. It is a Thought in Sickness, and of a very ferious Nature, for which Reason I give it a Place in the Paper of this Day.

SIR,

T

HE Indifpofition which has long hung upon me, is at laft grown to fuch a Head, that it must quickly make an end of me, or of itself. You may imagine, that whilft I am in this bad State of Health, there are none of your Works which I read with greater Pleasure than your Saturday's Papers. I fhould.be very glad if I could furnish you with any Hints for that Day's Entertainment. Were I able to dress up fe⚫veral Thoughts of a ferious Nature, which have made great Impreffions on my Mind during a long Fit of Sicknefs, they might not be an improper Entertainment for that Occafion.

'AMONG all the Reflections which usually rise in the Mind of a fick Man, who has Time and Inclination to confider his approaching End, there is none more na⚫tural than that of his going to appear naked and unbodied before Him who made him. When a Man confiders, that as foon as the vital Union is diffolved, he fhall fee that fupreme Being, whom he now contemplates at a Diftance, and only in his Works; or, to fpeak more philofophically, when by fome Faculty in the Soul he fhall apprehend the divine Being, and be ⚫ more fenfible of his Prefence, than we are now of the • Presence of any Object which the Eye beholds, a Man

• muft