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despair, when it was proposed by one of the dum. ber, that, since the real genius of love had left them, in order to continue their power, they should set up an idol in his stead; and that the ladies of every country should furnish him with what each liked best. This proposal was instantly relished and agreed to. An idol of gold was formed by uniting the capricious gifts of all the assembly, though no way resembling the departed genius. The ladies of China furnished the monster with wings; those of Kashmire supplied him with horns; the dames of Europe clapped a purse in his hand; and the virgins of Congo furbished him with a tail. Since that time, all the vows addressed to love are in reality paid to the idol; and, as in other false religions, the adoration seems more fervent where the heart is least sincere.
HISTORY OF THE DISTRESSES OF AN ENG.
LISH DISABLED SOLDIER.
No o observation is more common, and at the same
time more true, than that one half of the world are ignorant how the other half lives.' The misfortunes of the great are held up to engage our attention : are enlarged upon in tones of declamation; and the world is called upon to gaze at the noble sufferers: the great, under the pressure of calamity, are conscious of several others sympathis. ing with their distress; and have, at once, the comfort of admiration and pity.
There is nothing magnanimous in bearing misfor. tones with fortitude, when the whole world is looking on; men in such circumstances will act bravely even from motives of vanity: but he who, in the vaie
of obscurity, can brave adversity; who, without friends to encourage, acquaintances to pity, or even without hope, to alleviate his misfortunes, can behave with tranquillity and indifference, is truly great: whether peasant or courtier, he deserves ad. miration, and should be held up for our imitation and respect.
While the slightest inconveniences of the great, are maguified into calamities; while tragedy mouths out their sufferings in all the strains of eloquence; the miseries of the poor are entirely disregarded ; and yet some of the lower ranks of people undergo more real hardships in one day, than those of a more exalted station suffer in their whole lives. It is inconceivable what difficulties the meanest of our common sailors and soldiers endure without murmuring or regret; without passionately declaiming against Providence, or calling on their fellows to be gazers on their intrepidity. Every day is to them a day of misery, and yet they entertain their hard fate without repining.
With what indignation do I hear an Ovid, a Cicero, or a Rabutin, complain of their misfortunes and hardships, whose greatest calamity was that of being unable to visit a certain spot of earth, to which they had foolishly attached an idea of happi. ness! Their distresses were pleasures, compared to what many of the adventuring poor every day endure without murmuring. They ate, drank, and slept; they had slaves to attend them, and were sure of subsistence for life; while many of their fellow. creatures are obliged to wander, without a friend to comfort or assist them, and even without a shelter from the severity of the season.
I have been led into these reflections from acci. dentally meeting, some days ago, a poor fellow, whom I knew when a boy, dressed in a sailor's jacket, and begging at one of the outlets of the town, with a wooden leg. I knew him to be honest and Industrious when in the country, and was curious
to learn what had reduced him to his present situa. tion. Wherefore, after giving him what I thought proper, I desired to know the history of his life and misfortunes, and the manner id' which he was re. duced to his present distress. The disabled soldier, for such he was, though dressed in a sailor's habit, scratching his head, and leaning on his crutch, put himself into an attitude to comply with my request, and gave me his history as follows:
• As for my misfortunes, master, I can't pretend to have gone through any more than other folks; for, except the loss of my limb, and my being obliged to beg, I don't know any reason, thank Heaven, that I have to complain;, there is Bill Tibbs, of our, regiment, he has lost both his legs, and an eye to boot; but, thank Heaven, it is not so bad with me yet.
* I was born in Shropshire; my father was a labourer, and died when I was five years old, so I was put upon the parish. As he had been a wandering sort of a man, the parishioners were not able to tell, to what parish I belonged, or where I was born, so they sent me to another parish, and that parish sent me to a third. I thought, in my heart, they kept: sending me about so long, that they would not let me be born in any parish at all; but at last, how. ever, they fixed me. I had some disposition to be a scholar, and was resolved at least to know my, letters; but the master of the workhouse put me to business as soon as I was able to handle a mallet; and here I lived an easy kiod of a life for five years. I only wrought ten lours in the day, and had my meat and drink provided for my labour. It is true, I was not suffered to stir out of the house, for fear, as they said, I should run away: but what of that? I had the liberty of the whole house, and the yard before the door, and that was enough for me. I was then bound out to a farmer, where I was up both early and late; but I ate and drank well, and liked my business well enoughi, till he died, when I was
obliged to provide for myself; so I was resolved to go and seek my fortune.
• In this manner I went from town to town, worked when I could get employment, and starved when I could get none: when happening one day to go through a field belonging to a justice of the peace, I spied a hare crossing the path just before me; and I believe the devil put it into my head to fing my stick at it :-well, wliat will you have on't? I killed the hare, and was bringing it away in triumph, when the justice himself met me: he call. ed me a poacher and a villain ; and collaring me, desired I would give an account of myself. I fell upon my knees, begged his worship's pardon, and began to give a full account of all that I knew of my breed, seed, and generation ; but though I gave a very good account, the justice would not believe a syllable I had to say; so I was indicted at ses. sions, found guilty of being poor, and sent up to London to Newgate, in order to be transported as a vagabond.
• People may say this and that of being in jail; but for my part, I found Newgate as agreeable a place as ever I was in in all my life. I had my bellyful to eat and drink, and did no work at all. This kind of life was too good to last for ever; so I was taken out of prison, after five nionths, put on board a ship, and sent off, with two hundred more, to the plantations. We had but an indifferent pas. sage, for, being all confined in the hold, more than a hundred of our people died for want of sweet air; and those that remained were sickly enough, God knows. When we came ashore we were sold to the planters, and I was bound for seven years more. As I was no scholar, for I did not know my letters, I was obliged to work among the negroes; and I served out my time, as in duty bound to do.
• When my time was expired, I worked my pas. sage home, and glad I was to see old England again, because I loved my country. I was afraid, however, thet I should be indicted for a vagabond once more, so did not much care to go down into the country, but kept about the town, and did little jobs when I couldeget them.
• I was very happy in this manner for some time, till one evening, coming home from work, two men knocked me down, and then desired me to stand. They belonged to a press-gang: I was carried before the justice, and, as I could give no account of my. self, I had my choice left, whether to go on board a man of war, or list for a soldier. I chose the latter; and, in this post of a gentleman, I served two campaigas in Flanders, was at the battles of Val and Fontenoy, and received but one wound, through the breast here; but the doctor of our regiment soon made me well agaiu.
• When the peace came on I was discharged, and, as I could not work, because my wound was sometimes troublesome, I listed for a landman in the East-India company's service. I here fought the French in six pitched battles; and I verily believe, that, if I could read or write, our captain would have made me a corporal. But it was not my good fortune to have any promotion, for I soon fell sick, and so got leave to return home again, with forty pounds in my pocket. This was at the begivning of the present war, and I hoped to be set on sliore, and to have the pleasure of spending my money ; but the government wanted men, and so I was pressed for a sailor before ever I could set foot ou shore.
• The boatswain found me, as he said, an obstinate fellow: he swore he knew that I understood my business well, but that I shammed Abraham, merely to be idle; but, God knows, I knew nothing of se:l. business, and he beat me without considering what he was about. I had'still, however, my forty pounds, and that was some comfort to me under every beating; and the money I might have had to this day,