it poffible we should be able to love them in fo great a Degree, which makes them take on fo. I fay, Sir, a true good-natured Man, whom Rakes and Libertines call Hen peckt, shall fall into all these different Moods with his dear Life, and at the fame Time fee they are wholly put on; and yet not be hard-hearted enough to tell the dear good Creature that she is an Hypocrite. This fort of good Men is very frequent in the populous ⚫ and wealthy City of London, and is the true Hen-peckt • Man; the kind Creature cannot break through his Kindneffes fo far as to come to an Explanation with the tender Soul, and therefore goes on to comfort her when nothing ails her, to appease her when the is not angry, and to give her his Cash when he knows fhe does not want it; rather than be uneafy for a whole Month, ⚫ which is computed by hard-hearted Men the Space of • Time which a froward Woman takes to come to herfelf, if you have Courage to ftand out. THERE are indeed feveral other Species of the Hen-peckt, and in my Opinion they are certainly the beft Subjects the Queen has; and for that Reason I take " it to be your Duty to keep us above Contempt. . ་ ⚫ I do not know whether I make my felf understood in the Representation of an Hen-peckt Life, but I fhall take Leave to give you an Account of my self and my own Spoufe. You are to know that I am reckoned no Fool, have on feveral Occafions been tried whether I will take ill Ufage, and yet the Event has been to my Advantage; and yet there is not fuch a Slave in Turkey as I am to my Dear. She has a good Share of Wit, ⚫ and is what you call a very pretty agreeable Woman. I perfectly doat on her, and my Affection to her gives me all the Anxieties imaginable but that of Jealoufy. My being thus confident of her, I take as much as I can judge of my Heart, to be the Reason, that whatever fhe does, tho' it be never fo much against my Inclination, there is still left something in her Manner that is amiable. She will fometimes look at me with an affumed Grandeur, and pretend to refent that I have not had Refpect enough for her Opinion in fuch an Inftance in Company. I cannot but fmile at the pretty Anger fhe is in, and then the pretends fhe is ufed like ་ 6 a Child. In a word, our great Debate is, which has the Superiority in Point of Understanding. She is eternally forming an Argument of Debate; to which I very indolently anfwer, Thou art mighty pretty. To this fhe answers, all the World but you ⚫ think I have as much Senfe as your felf. I repeat to " her, Indeed you are pretty. Upon this there is no 'Patience; fhe will throw down any thing about her, ftamp and pull off her Head-Clothes. Fy, my Dear, fay I; how can a Woman of your Senfe fall into 'fuch an intemperate Rage? This is an Argument ⚫ which never fails. Indeed, my Dear, fays fhe, you make 'me mad fometimes, fo you do, with the filly Way " you have of treating me like a pretty Idiot. Well, what have I got by putting her into good Humour ? Nothing, but that I must convince her of my good Opinion by my Practice; and then I am to give her Poffeffion of my little Ready-Money, and for a Day and a half following, diflike all fhe diflikes, and extol every thing fhe approves. I am fo exquifitely fond of this Darling, that I feldom fee any of my Friends, am uneafy in all Companies till I fee her again; and when I come home, fhe is in the Dumps, because the fays fhe is fure I came fo foon only because I think her handfom. I dare not upon this Occafion laugh; but tho I am one of the warmest Churchmen in the Kingdom, I ་ am forced to rail at the Times, because she is a violent Whig. Upon this we talk Politicks fo long, that the is convinc'd I kifs her for her Wisdom. It is a common Practice with me to ask her fome Question concerning 'the Conftitution, which fhe anfwers me in general out of Harrington's Oceana: Then I commend her ftrange Memory, and her Arm is immediately lock'd in mine. While I keep her in this Temper fhe plays before me, fometimes dancing in the midst of the Room, fometimes ftriking an Air at her Spinnet, varying her Pofture and her Charms in fuch a manner that I am in ' continual Pleafure: She will play the Fool if I allow her to be wife, but if the fufpects I like her for her Trifling, fhe immediately grows grave. ་ 6 THESE are the Toils in which I am taken, and I carry off my Servitude, as well as moft Men; but my Applica 6 Application to you is in behalf of the Hen-peckt in general, and I defire a Differtation from you in Defence of us. You have, as I am informed, very good Authorities in our Favour, and hope you will not omit the mention of the Renowned Socrates and his Philofophick Refignation to his Wife Xantippe. This would be a very good Office to the World in general, for the Hen-peckt are powerful in their Quality and Numbers, not only in Cities but in Courts; in the latter they are ever the most obfequious, in the former the most wealthy of all Men. When you have confidered Wedlock throughly, you ought to enter into the Suburbs of Matrimony, and give us an Account of the Thraldom of kind Keepers, • and irrefolute Lovers; the Keepers who cannot quit their Fair Ones tho' they fee their approaching Ruin; the Lovers who dare not marry, tho' they know they never fhall be happy without the Miftreffes whom they cannot purchase on other Terms. WHAT will be a great Embellishment to your Dif ⚫ courfe, will be, that you may find Inftances of the Haughty, the Proud, the Frolick, the Stubborn, who are each of them in fecret downright Slaves to their • Wives or Miftreffes. I muft beg of you in the laft Place to dwell upon this, That the Wife and Valiant in all Ages have been Hen-peckt: and that the sturdy Tempers who are not Slaves to Affection, owe that Exemption to their being enthralled by Ambition, Avarice, or fome meaner Paffion. I have ten thousand thousand Things more to fay, but my Wife fees me Writing, and will, ⚫ according to Cuftom, be confulted, if I do not feal this immediately. T Yours, Nathaniel Henrooft. Saturday, ce те N° 177. Saturday, September 22. Quis enim bonus, aut face dignus Juv. N one of my last Week's Papers I treated of Goodnature, as it is the Effect of Constitution; I fhall now fpeak of it as it is a Moral Virtue. The first may make a Man eafy in himself and agreeable to others, but implies no Merit in him that is poffeffed of it. A Man is no more to be praifed upon this Account, than because he has a regular Pulfe or a good Digeftion. This Good-nature however in the Conftitution, which Mr. Dryden fomewhere calls a Milkiness of Blood, is an admirable Groundwork for the other. In order therefore to try our Good-nature, whether it arifes from the Body or the Mind, whether it be founded in the Animal or Rational Part of our Nature; in a word, whether it be fuch as is entituled to any other Reward, befides that fecret Satiffaction and Contentment of Mind which is effential to it, and the kind Reception it procures us in the World, we muft examine it by the following Rules. FIRST, Whether it acts with Steddiness and Uniformity in Sickness and in Health, in Profperity and in Adverfity; if otherwife, it is to be looked upon as nothing elfe but an Irradiation of the Mind from some new Supply of Spirits, or a more kindly Circulation of the Blood. Sir Francis Bacon mentions a cunning Solicitor, who would never ask a Favour of a great Man before Dinner; but took care to prefer his Petition at a Time when the Party petitioned had his Mind free from Care, and his Appetites in good humour. Such a tranfient temporary Good-nature as this, is not that Philanthropy, that Love of Mankind, which deferves the Title of a Moral Virtue. THE THE next way of a Man's bringing his Good-nature to the Teft, is, to confider whether it operates according to the Rules of Reafon and Duty: For if, notwithstanding its general Benevolence to Mankind, it makes no diftinction between its Objects, if it exerts it felf promif cuoufly towards the Deferving and Undeferving, if it relieves alike the Idle and the Indigent, if it gives it felf up to the first Petitioner, and lights upon any one rather by Accident than Choice, it may pass for an amiable Inftinct, but muft not affume the Name of a Moral Virtue. THE third Trial of Good-nature will be, the examining our felves, whether or no we are able to exert it to our own Difadvantage, and employ it on proper Objects, notwithstanding any little Pain, Want or Inconvenience which may arife to our felves from it: In a word, whether we are willing to rifque any Part of our Fortune, our Reputation, our Health or Eafe, for the Benefit of Mankind. Among all these Expreffions of Good-nature, I fhall fingle out that which goes under the general Name of Charity, as it confifts in relieving the Indigent; that being a Trial of this Kind which offers it felf to us almost at all Times and in every Place. I fhould propose it as a Rule to every one who is pro vided with any Competency of Fortune more than fufficient for the Neceffaries of Life, to lay afide a certain Proportion of his Income for the Ufe of the Poor. This I would look upon as an Offering to him who has a Right to the whole, for the Ufe of thofe whom, in the Paffage hereafter mentioned, he has described as his own Reprefentatives upon Earth. At the fame time we fhould manage our Charity with fuch Prudence and Caution, that we may not hurt our own Friends or Relations, whilft we are doing Good to those who are Strangers to us. THIS may poffibly be explained better by an Example than by a Rule. EUGENIUS is a Man of an univerfal Good-nature, and generous beyond the Extent of his Fortune;, but withal fo prudent, in the Oeconomy of his Affairs, that what goes out in Charity is made up by good Management. Eugenius has what the World calls Two hundred Pounds a Year |