it yet more fhameful and deteftable, it is doomed often to stand in awe of those, to whom nothing could give influence or weight, but their power of betraying. NUMB. 69. TUESDAY, November 13, 1750. Flet quoque, ut in fpeculo rugas adfpexit aniles, The dreadful wrinkles when poor Helen fpy'd, Ah! why this second rape?—with tears she cry'd. OVIE ELPHINSTON. AN old Greek epigrammatist, intending to fhew the miferies that attend the last stage of man, imprecates upon those who are fo foolish as to wish for long life, the calamity of continuing to grow old from century to century. He thought that no adventitious or foreign pain was requifite, that decrepitude itself was an epitome of whatever is dreadful, and nothing could be added to the curfe of age, but that it should be extended beyond its natural limits. The most indifferent or negligent fpectator can indeed fcarcely retire without heavinefs of heart, from a view of the laft fcenes of the tragedy of life, in which he finds those who in the former parts of the drama were distinguished by oppofi tion of conduct, contrariety of designs, and diffimilitude of perfonal qualities, all involved in one common distress, and all struggling with affliction which they cannot hope to overcome. The other miferies, which waylay our paffage through the world, wisdom may escape, and fortitude may conquer: by caution and circumfpection we may fteal along with very little to obftruct or incommode us; by fpirit and vigour we may force a way, and reward the vexation of conteft by the pleasures of victory. But a time must come when out policy and bravery fhall be equally useless; when we shall all fink into helpleffness and sadness, without any power of receiving folace from the pleafures that have formerly delighted us, or any profpect of emerging into a fecond poffeffion of the bleffings that we have loft. The industry of man has, indeed, not been wanting in endeavours to procure comforts for these hours of dejection and melancholy, and to gild the dreadful gloom with artificial light. The most usual fupport of old age is wealth. He whose poffeffions are large, and whose chests are full, imagines himfelf always fortified against invasions on his authority. If he has loft all other means of government, if his ftrength and his reason fail him, he can at laft alter his will; and therefore all that have hopes muft likewife have fears, and he may ftill continue to give laws to fuch as have not ceased to regard their own intereft. This is, indeed, too frequently the citadel of the dotard, the laft fortrefs to which age retires, and in which he makes the ftand against the upftart race that feizes his domains, difputes his commands, and cancels his prescriptions. But here, though though there may be fafety, there is no pleasure; and what remains is but a proof that more was once poffeffed. Nothing feems to have been more universally dreaded by the ancients than orbity, or want of children; and indeed, to a man who has survived all the companions of his youth, all who have participated his pleasures and his cares, have been engaged in the fame events, and filled their minds with the fame conceptions, this full-peopled world is a dismal folitude. He ftands forlorn and filent, neglected or infulted, in the midst of multitudes animated with hopes which he cannot fhare, and employed in bufinefs which he is no longer able to forward or retard; nor can he find any to whom his life or his death are of importance, unless he has fecured fome domestick gratifications, fome tender employments, and endeared himself to fome whose interest and gratitude may unite them to him. So different are the colours of life, as we look forward to the future, or backward to the past, and fo different the opinions and fentiments which this contrariety of appearance naturally produces, that the converfation of the old and young ends generally with contempt or pity on either fide. To a young man entering the world, with fullness of hope and ardour of purfuit, nothing is fo unpleafing as the cold caution, the faint expectations, the fcrupulous diffidence which experience and disappointments certainly infufe; and the old man wonders. in his turn that the world never can grow wifer, that neither precepts nor teftimonies can cure boys of their eredulity and fufficiency, and that not one can be. convinced that fnares are laid for him, till he finds himfelf entangled. Thus Thus one generation is always the fcorn and wonder of the other, and the notions of the old and young are like liquors of different gravity and texture which never can unite. The fpirits of youth, fublimed by health and volatilised by paffion, foon leave behind them the phlegmatick fediment of wearinefs and deliberation, and burst out in temerity and enterprise. The tenderness therefore which nature infuses, and which long habits of beneficence confirm, is neceffary to reconcile fuch oppofition ; and an old man must be a father, to bear with patience those follies and abfurdities which he will perpetually imagine himself to find in the fchemes and expectations, the pleasures and the forrows, of those who have not yet been hardened by time and chilled by fruftration. Yet it may be doubted, whether the pleasure of feeing children ripening into strength, be not overbalanced by the pain of feeing fome fall in the bloffom, and others blasted in their growth; fome fhaken down by storms, some tainted with cankers, and fome fhrivelled in the fhade; and whether he that extends his care beyond himfelf, does not multiply his anxieties more than his pleasures, and weary himself to no purpose, by fuperintending what he cannot regulate. But though age be to every order of human beings fufficiently terrible, it is particularly to be dreaded by fine ladies, who have had no other end or ambition than to fill up the day and the night with drefs, diverfions, and flattery, and who, having made no acquaintance with knowledge or with business, have constantly caught all their ideas from the current prattle of the hour, and been indebted for all their happiness to compliments and treats.. treats. With thefe ladies, age begins early, and very often lafts long; it begins when their beauty fades, when their mirth lofes its sprightlinefs, and their motion its eafe. From that time all which gave them joy vanishes from about them; they hear the praises beftowed on others, which used to fwell their bofoms with exultation. They vifit the feats of felicity, and endeavour to continue the habit of being delighted. But pleafure is only received when we believe that we give it in return. Neglect and petulance inform them that their power and their value are past; and what then remains but a tedious and comfortless uniformity of time, without any motion of the heart or exercise of the reason? Yet, however age may difcourage us by its appearance from confidering it in profpect, we shall all by degrees certainly be old; and therefore we ought to enquire, what provifion can be made againft that time of diftrefs? what happiness can be stored up against the winter of life? and how we may pafs our latter years with ferenity and cheerfulness? If it has been found by the experience of mankind, that not even the best seasons of life are able to fupply fufficient gratifications, without anticipating uncertain felicities, it cannot furely be fuppofed, that old age, worn with labours, haraffed with anxieties, and tortured with difeafes, fhould have any gladnefs of its own, or feel any fatisfaction from the contemplation of the prefent. All the comfort that can now be expected must be recalled from the paft, or borrowed from the future; the paft is very foon exhaufted, all the events or actions of which the memory can afford pleafure are quickly recollected; and the future lies beyond |