Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking:

Besides ten thousand freaks that dy'd 'din

E

thinking.

Bleft madman, who could every hour em; ploy,

With fomething new to with, or to enjoy!

C

NQUIRIES after happiness, and rules for attaining it, are not fo neceffary and ufeful to mankind as the arts of confolation, and fupporting one's felf under affliction. The utmost we can hope for in this world is contentment; if we aim at any thing higher, we fhall meet with nothing but grief and disappointment. A man fhould

direct all his ftudies and endeavours at making himself eafy now, and happy hereafter.

The truth of it is, if all the happinefs that is difperfed through the whole race of mankind in this world were drawn together, and put into the poffeffion of any fingle man, it would not make a very happy being. Though on the contrary, if the mileries of the whole species were fixed in a fingle perfon, they would make a very miferable one.

I am engaged in this fubject by the following letter, which, though fubfcribed by a fictitious name, I have reafon to believe is not imaginary.

I

MR. SPECTATOR,

Am one of your difciples, and endeavour to live up to your rules, which I hope will incline you to pity my condition. I fhall open it to you in a very few words. About three years fince a gentleman, whom, I am fure, you yourfelf would have approved, made his addrefles to me.

He had every thing to recommend him but an estate, fo that my friends, who all of them applauded his perfon, would not for the fake of both of us favour his paffion. For my own part, I refigned myfelf up entirely to the direction of thofe who knew the world much better than my felf, but ftill lived in hopes that fome juncture or other would make me happy in the man whom, in my heart, I preferred to all the world; being deter

mined if I could not have him, to have nobody else. About three months ago I received a letter from him, acquainting me, that by the death of an uncle he had a confiderable eftate left him, which he faid was welcome to him upon no other account, but as he hoped it would remove all difficulties that lay in the way to our mutual happiness. You may well fuppofe, Sir, with how much joy I received this letter, which was followed by feveral others filled with thofe expreffions of love and joy, which I verily believe nobody felt more fincerely, nor knew better how to defcribe, than the gentleman I am speaking of. But, Sir, how thall I be able to tell it you! By the last week's poft I received a letter from an intimate friend of this unhappy gentleman, acquainting me, that as he had just fettled his affairs, and was preparing for his journey, he fell fick of a fever and died. It is impoffible to exprefs to you the distress I am in upon this occafion. I can only have recourfe to my devotions, and to the reading of good books for my confolation; and as I always take a particular delight in thofe frequent advices and admonitions which you give the public, it would be a very great piece of charity in you to lend me your aflift. ance in this conjuncture. If after the reading of this letter you find yourself in a humour, rather to railly and ridicule, than to comfort me, I defire you would throw it into the fire, and think no more of it; but if you are touched with my misfortune, which is greater than I know how to bear, your coun fels may very much fupport, and will infinitely oblige the afflicted

LEONORA

Paffion itfelf fo foftens and fubdues the heart, that it disables it from struggling or bearing up against the woes and diftreffes which befal it. The mind meets with other misfortunes in her whole trength; fhe ftands collected within herfelf, and fuftains the fhock with all the force which is natural to her; but a heart in love has it's foundations fapped, and immediately finks under the weight of accidents that are difagreeable to it's favourite paffion.

In afflictions men generally draw their confolations out of books of morality, which indeed are of great ufe to fortify and ftrengthen the mind against the impreffions of forrow. Monfieur St. Evre mont, who does not approve of this method, recommends authors who are apt to ftir up much mirth in the mind of the readers, and fancies Don Quixote can give more relief to an heavy heart than Plutarch or Seneca, as it is much easier to divert grief than to conquer it. This doubtless may have it's effects on fome tempers. I should rather have recourfe to authors of a quite contrary kind, that give us inftances of calamities and miffortunes, and fhew human nature in it's greatest diftrelles.

If the afflictions we groan under be very heavy, we fhall find fome confolation in the fociety of as great fufferers as ourselves, especially when we find our companions men of virtue and merit. If our afflictions are light, we fhall be conforted by the comparison we make between ourfelves and our fellow-fufferers. A lofs at fea, a fit of fickness, or the death of a friend, are fuch trifles when we confider whole kingdoms laid in afhes, families put to the word, wretches fhut up in dungeons, and the like calamities of mankind, that we are out of countenance for our own weakness, if we fink under fach little strokes of fortune.

Let the difconfolate Leonora confider,

that at the very time in which the languifhes for the lofs of her deceased lover, there are perfons in feveral parts of the world juft perifhing in a fhipwreck; others crying out for mercy in the terrors of a death-bed repentance; others lying under the tortures of an infamous execution, or the like dreadful calamities; and the will find her forrows vanifh at the appearance of those which are fo much greater and more aftonishing.

I would further propofe to the confideration of my afflicted difciple, that poffibly what the now looks upon as the greatest misfortune, is not really fuch in itfelf. For my own part, I queftion not but our fouls in a feparate ftate will look back on their lives in quite another view, than what they had of them in the body; and that what they now confider as misfortunes and disappointments, will very often appear to have been efcapes and bleffings.

The mind that hath any caft towards devotion, naturally flies to it in it's afflictions.

When I was in France I heard a very remarkable story of two lovers, which I fhall relate at length in my to-morrow's paper, not only because the circumftances of it are extraordinary, but because it may ferve as an illuftration to all that can be faid on this last head, and fhew the power of religion in abating that particular anguish which feems to lie fo heavy on Leonora. The story was told me by a priest, as I travelled with him in a ftage-coach. I fhall give it my reader, as well as I can remember, in his own words, after having premifed, that if confolations may be drawn from a wrong religion and a mifguided devotion, they cannot but flow much more naturally from those which are founded upon reafon, and eftablished in good fenie.

CON

ONSTANTIA was a woman of extraordinary wit and beauty, but very unhappy in a father, who having arrived at great riches by his own industry, took delight in nothing but his money. Theodofius was the younger fon of a decayed family, of great parts and learning, improved by a genteel and virtuous education. When he was in the twentieth year of his age he became acquainted with Conftantia, who had not then paffed her fifteenth. As he lived but a few miles diftant froin her father's houfe, he had frequent opportunities of feeing her; and by the advantages of a good perfon and a pleafing converfation, made fuch an impreffion in her heart as it was impoffible for time to efface: he was himself no lefs fmitten with Conftantia. A long acquaintance made them ftill discover new beauties in each other, and by degrees raised in them that mutual paffion which had an influence on their following lives. It unfortunately happened, that in the midst of this intercourfe of love and Friendship between Theodofius and Conantia, there broke out an irreparable quarrel between their parents, the one valuing himself too much upon his birth, and the other upon his poffeffions. The father of Conftantia was fo incenfed at the father of Theodofius, that he contracted an unreasonable averfion towards his fon, infomuch that he forbade him his houfe, and charged his daughter upon her duty never to fee him more. In the mean time, to break off all communication between the two lovers, who he knew entertained fecret hopes of fome favourable opportunity that thould bring them together, he found out a young ⚫ gentleman of a good fortune and an agreeable perfon, whom he pitched upon

DRYDEN.

as a husband for his daughter. He foon concerted this affair fo well, that he told Conftantia it was his defign to marry her to fuch a gentleman, and that her wedding fhould be celebrated on fuch a day. Conftantia, who was over-awed with the authority of her father, and unable to object any thing against fo advantageous a match, received the propofal with a profound filence, which her father commended in her, as the most decent manner of a virgin's giving her confent to an overture of that kind. The noife of this intended marriage foon reached Theodo fius, who, after a long tumult of pasfions which naturally rife in a lover's heart on fuch an occafion, writ the following letter to Conftantia.

THE thought of my Conftantia,

which for fome years has been my only happiness, is now become a greater torment to me than I am able to bear. Mutt I then live to fee you another's? The ftreams, the fields and meadows, where we have so often talked together, grow painful to me; life itself is become a burden. May you long be happy in the world, but forget that there was ever fuch a man in it as

THEODOSIUS,

This letter was conveyed to Conftantia that very evening, who fainted at the reading of it; and the next morning fhe was much more alarmed by two or three moflengers, that came to her father's houfe one after another to enquire if they had heard any thing of Theodofius, who it feems had left his chamber about midnight, and could no where be found. The deep melancholy, which had hung upon his mind fome

time

time before, made them apprehend the worit that could befal him. Conftantia, who knew that nothing but the 'report of her marriage could have driven him to fuch extremities, was not to be comforted: the now accused herself for having fo tamely given an ear to the propofal of a husband, and looked upon the new lover as the murderer of Theodofius: in fhort, the refolved to fuffer the utmost effects of her father's difpleafure, rather than comply with a marriage which appeared to her fo full of guilt and horror. The father feeing himself entirely rid of Theodofius, and likely to keep a confiderable portion in his family, was not very much concerned at the obftinate refufal of his daughter; and did not find it very difficult to excufe himself upon that account to his intended fon-in-law, who had all along regarded this alliance rather as a marriage of convenience than of love. Conftantia had now no relief but in her devotions and exercifes of religion, to which her afflictions had fo entirely fubjected her mind, that after fome years had abated the violence of her forrows, and fettled her thoughts in a kind of tranquillity, the refolved to pass the remainder of her days in a convent. Her father was not difpleafed with a refolution, which would fave money in his family, and readily complied with his daughter's intentions. Accordingly.in the twenty-fifth year of her age, while her beauty was yet in all it's height and bloom, he carried her to a neighbouring city, in order to look out a fifterhood of nuns among whom to place his daughter. There was in this place a father of a convent who was very much renowned for his piety and exemplary life; and as it is ufual in the Romish church for those who are under any great affliction, or trouble of mind, to apply themselves to the most eminent confeffors for pardon and confolation, our beautiful votary took the opportunity of confeffing herfelf to this celebrated father.

We must now return to Theodofius, who, the very morning that the abovementioned enquiries had been made after him, arrived at a religious houfe in the city, where now Conftantia refided; and defiring that fecrecy and concealment of the fathers of the convent, which is very ufual upon any extraordinary occafion, he made himself one of the order, with a private vow never to enquire after

Conftantia; whom he looked upon as given away to his rival upon the day on which, according to common fame, their marriage was to have been folemnized. Having in his youth made a good progrefs in learning, that he might dedicate himself more entirely to religion, he entered into holy orders, and in a few years became renowned for his fanctity of life, and thofe pious fentiments which he infpired into all who converfed with him. It was this holy man to whom Conftantia had determined to apply herself in confeffion, though neither the nor any other, befides the prior of the convent, knew any thing of his name or family. The gay, the amiable Theodofius, had now taken upon him the name of Father Francis, and was fo far concealed in a long beard, a fhaven head, and a religious habit, that it was impoffible to discover the man of the world in the venerable

conventual.

As he was one morning fhut up in his confeffional, Conftantia kneeling by him, opened the ftate of her foul to him; and after having given him the hiftory of a life full of innocence, the burst out in tears, and entered upon that part of her ftory in which he himself had fo great a fhare. My behaviour, says he, has, I fear, been the death of a

man who had no other fault but that of loving me too much. Heaven only knows how dear he was to me whilft he lived, and how bitter the remem¬ brance of him has been to me ever. fince his death. She here paused and lifted up her eyes that ftreamed with tears towards the father; who was fo moved with the fenfe of her forrows, that he could only command his voice, which was broke with fighs and fobbings, fo far as to bid her proceed. She followed his directions, and in a flood of tears poured out her heart before him. The father could not forbear weeping aloud, infomuch that in the agonies of his grief the feat fhook under him. Conftantia, who thought the good man was thus moved by his compassion towards her, and by the horror of her guilt, proceeded with the utmost contrition to acquaint him with that vow of virginity in which the was going to engage herfelf, as the proper atonement for her fins, and the only facrifice the could make to the memory of Theodo fius. The father, who by this time

had