and a statesman a fox, an extortioner gains the appellation of vulture, and a fop the title of monkey. There is alfo among the various anomalies of character, which a farvey of the world exhibits, a fpecies of beings in human form, which may be properly marked out as the fereech-owls of mankind. Thefe fereech-owls feem to be fettled in an opinion that the great business of life is to complain, and that they were born for no other purpose tham to difturb the happiness of others, to leffen the little comforts, and shorten the fhort pleasures of our condition, by painful remembrances of the paft, or melancholy prognofticks of the future; their only care is to crufh the rifing hope, to damp the kindling transport, and allay the golden hours of gaiety with the hateful dross of grief and suspicion. To thofe, whofe weakness of fpirits or timidity of temper, fubjects them to impreffions from others, and who are apt to fuffer by fascination, and catch the contagion of mifery, it is extremely unhappy to live within the compass of a screech-owl's voice; for it will often fill their ears in the hour of dejection, terrify them with apprehenfions, which their own thoughts would never have produced, and fadden, by intruded forrows, the day which might have been paffed in amusements or in bufinefs; it will burthen the heart with unneceffary difcontents, and weaken for a time that love of life, which is neceffary to the vigorous profecution of any undertaking. Though I have, like the reft of mankind, many failings and weakneffes, I have not yet, by either friends or enemies, been charged with fuperftition; C4 I never I never count the company which I enter, and I look at the new moon indifferently over either fhoulder. I have, like most other philofophers, often heard the cuckoo without money in my pocket, and have been fometimes reproached as fool hardy for not turning down my eyes when a raven flew over my head. I never go home abruptly because a snake croffes my way, nor have any particular dread of a climacterical year; yet I confefs that, with all my fcorn of old women, and their tales, I confider it as an unhappy day when I happen to be greeted, in the morning, by Sufpirius the fcreech-owl. I have now known Sufpirius fifty-eight years and four months, and have never yet paffed an hour with him in which he has not made fome attack upon my quiet. When we were firft acquainted, his great topick was the mifery of youth without riches, and whenever we walked out together he folaced me with a long enumeration of pleasures, which, as they were beyond the reach of my fortune, were without the verge of my defires, and which I fhould never have confidered as the objects of a wish, had not his unfeasonable representations placed them in my fight. Another of his topicks is, the neglect of merit, with which he never fails to amufe every man whom he fees not eminently fortunate. If he meets with a young officer, he always informs him of gentlemen whofe perfonal courage is unqueftioned, and whofe military skill qualifies them to command armies, that have, notwithstanding all their merit, grown old with fubaltern commiffions. For a genius in the church, he is always provided with a curacy for life. The lawyer he informs of many many men of great parts and deep ftudy, who have never had an opportunity to fpeak in the courts: and meeting Serenus the phyfician, "Ah, "doctor!" fays he; "what, a-foot ftill, when fo many "blockheads are rattling in their chariots? I told you seven years ago that you would never meet "with encouragement, and I hope you will now "take more notice, when I tell you that your "Greek, and your diligence, and your honesty, " will never enable you to live like yonder apothe cary, who prefcribes to his own fhop, and laughs "at the phyfician.' Sufpirius has, in his time, intercepted fifteen authors in their way to the ftage; perfuaded nine and thirty merchants to retire from a profperous trade for fear of bankruptcy, broke off an hundredand thirteen matches by prognoftications of unhappiness, and enabled the fmall-pox to kill nineteen ladies, by perpetual alarms of the lofs of beauty. Whenever my evil ftars bring us together, he never fails to represent to me the folly of my purfuits, and informs me that we are much older than when we began our acquaintance, that the infirm-ities of decrepitude are coming faft upon me, that whatever I now get I fhall enjoy but a little time, that fame is to a man tottering on the edge of the grave of very little importance, and that the time is at hand when I ought to look for no other pleasures than a good dinner and an easy chair. Thus he goes on in his unharmonious ftrain, displaying prefent miferies, and foreboding more, vuntinogas ade devarń Pogos, every fyllable is loaded with misfortune, and death is always brought nearer to the view. Yet, what always raises my refentment and indignation, I do not perceive that. his mournful meditations have much effect upon himself. He talks, and has long talked of calamities, without discovering, otherwife than by the tone of his voice, that he feels any of the evils which he bewails or threatens, but has the fame habit of uttering lamentations, as others of telling stories, and falls into expreffions of condolence for paft, or apprehenfion of future mischiefs, as all men ftudious of their ease have recourse to those subjects upon which they can moft fluently or copiously discourse. It is reported of the Sybarites, that they destroyed all their cocks, that they might dream out their morning dreams without difturbance. Though I would not fo far promote effeminacy as to propose the Sybarites for an example, yet fince there is no man fo corrupt or foolish, but fomething ufeful may be learned from him, I could wish that, in imitation of a people not often to be copied, fome regulations might be made to exclude fcreech-owls from all company, as the enemies of mankind, and confine them to fome proper receptacle, where they may mingle fighs at leifure, and thicken the gloom. of one another. Thou prophet of evil, fays Homer's Agamemnon, thu never foretelleft me good, but the joy of thy heart is to predict misfortunes. Whoever is of the fame. temper might there find the means of indulging his thoughts, and improving his vein of denunciation, and the flock of fcreech-owls might hoot together without injury to the reft of the world. Yet, though I have fo little kindness for this dark generation, I am very far from intending to. debar debar the foft and tender mind from the privilege of complaining, when the figh rifes from the defirenot of giving pain, but of gaining ease. To hear complaints with patience, even when complaints are vain, is one of the duties of friendship; and though it must be allowed that he fuffers moft like a hero that hides his grief in filence, Spem vultu fimulat, premit altum corde dolorem, His outward smiles conceal'd his inward smart.. DRYDEN yet, it cannot be denied that he who complains acts like a man, like a focial being, who looks for help from his fellow-creatures. Pity is to many of the unhappy a fource of comfort in hopeless diftreffes, as it contributes to recommend them to themselves, by proving that they have not loft the regard of others; and heaven feems to indicate the duty even of barren compaffion by inclining us to weep for evils which we cannot remedy. NUMB. 60. SATURDAY, October 13, 1750. Quid fit pulchrum, quid turpe,. quid utile, quid non, Whofe works the beautiful and base contain, HOR. FRANCIS. ALL joy or forrow, for the happiness or calamities of others, is produced by an act of the imagination, that realifes the event however fictitious, or approximates it however remote, by placing us, for a time, in the condition of him whofe сб |