Price Two-pence.
Quos Jupiter vult perdere, dementat prius.
Saturday, April 30. 1720.
It is common with Authors of my Rank to give themselves Airs of Consequence, when they assume a Right of correcting, or reforming, the Vices, or Follies of the Age. The late Sir John Edgar, of obscure Memory, pretended to define a Sort of Men whom he called wrong-headed, and has told two or three Stories by Way of Examples, from whence he wou'd have you think, that a Slip of Memory, is an Error in Judgment; as you may see in his Instance of the Foot Soldier, who robbed the Gentleman, and forgetting that he had put the Things into his own Pockets, afterwards changed Coats with the Gentleman, and by that Means put him again in Possession of whatever he before had robbed him. Without any Malice to Sir John's Remaines, I shall beg Leave to observe, that the Term wrong-headed more properly belongs to him, who has an ill Turn of thinking, and judging, than to him who commits a careless Oversight, which is common to Men of the best Parts. My Reason for introducing this, is, from some Reflections that I have made on the Subject of my last Paper; by which it appears to me that there are Multitudes of this Sort of People in the World, pursuing Fortune in a very giddy Way. I suppose it will be thought ridiculous, to call him wrong-headed, who by any Artifice shall improve his Estate; yet when the Misfortunes of others, and those by much the greater Number, and a Decay of Trade are put in Ballance against that Artifice, I doubt this Charge must be somewhere, tho' I am not cunning enough to tell where. As I see but little Company, and retire for my Ease and the Improvement of my Studies; I was deeply ingaged in Thought the other Night upon this Topick, and in made such a strong Impression upon me, that it produced a very odd Dream. As it is the Weakness of Women, and old Men, to be fond of telling their Dreams to their Friends, I hope my Readers will excuse me this Infirmity of my Age.
Methought, I saw a Lady of a middle Age, large Stature, and in the Fulness of her Beauty, stand before me, magnificently dress'd; I had not Leisure to peruse her, before she began to walk about, skip and dance, and used so many odd Gestures, that she appeared to me little better than mad. I had the Curiosity to approach, to observe what she might be, when upon contemplating her Features, her Dress, and her Air, I fancied, I had seen her exact Likeness in several Maps and Drawings in Metzo-Tinto, where her Form was made use of to express Britannia. This gave me a Tenderness and Compassion for her Condition; I ask'd her many Questions, by her Replies to which I perceived her Head was a little turned, and her Notions of Things extravagant. She owned, she had forsaken all those ingenious and industrious Arts, which she had practised long to the Wonder of her Neighbours, with the Reputation of a discreet and vertuous Matron, and now was resolved to turn Rope-Dancer. This was no sooner said, but she falls to work, to setting up her Tackle with proper Supporters; and to my very great Astonishment fixed one End of her Rope in France, and t'other in Holland. The Inhabitants of these Countries flock'd to behold her, watching and wishing for her Fall, and every one ready to receive her; she tottered strangely, and seemed ready to come down every Minute; upon which those below stretch'd out their Hands in Order to pull her down, and shewed Joy, and Disappointment, in their Looks alternately, as often as she stumbled or recovered. She begg'd for a Pole to poise her, but no body wou'd lend her one; and looked about in vain for help. There appeared at some Distance a Man in a broad Hat, and short Cloak, with a swarthy Complexion, and black Whiskers, who seemed altogether unconcern'd at what shou'd happen; to her in her Frights she gave him many a Look, as if she silently begg'd his Assistance, but whether she had done him any Injury, or that her Pride would not suffer her to turn Petitioner, she seemed ashamed to call to him for Help. Thus she went on tottering, 'till she tore all her Garments, so that her Robes appeared like the ragged Colours in Westminster-Hall; at length seeing her Danger, he reached her out a Pole, and then she shewed a tolerable Skill and Agility; which the People perceiving, who were towards France, they resolved to let go the Rope that she might slip down to their Side, and this gave me such Pain for her Safety, that I waked with a Start of Consternation.
Tho' there was nothing in this but a Dream, it cannot be imagined how concerned I was, that it did not last till I could be satisfied whether she fell, or no. I was grave for at least an Hour after, and reflected on the Policy of those, who forsake a safe and profitable Path, for vain and dangerous Flights; I fancied my self a Politician too, and imagined I knew what a Nation of Projectors must bring their Country to. I shall here make a Digression, without giving any Reason for it; for since I am not bound to the Unities of Time, and Place, as we are in Poetry, I stand in no Awe of the peevish Criticks.
Three French Men were travelling into Spain, over the Mountains of Biscay: One of them trundled before him a Wheelbarrow, with Implements for grinding Knives and Scissors; another carried a Load of Mouse-Traps and Bellows; and the third had a Box of Combs and Pins. A poor Spaniard, who was travelling into France on Foot, with his Cloak on his Shoulder, met them half Way on the Ascent of a craggy Hill. They sate down to rest in the Shade, and began to confer Notes. They asked the Spaniard, whither he was going? He replied, into France. What to do? says one of the Frenchmen: To seek my Fortune, replies the Spaniard: He was asked again, what Trade he was of? He answered, of no Trade at all: of late, says he, we Spaniards have been bred to no Trades; but those of us that are poor, and honest, either beg or borrow; those, that are not, rob or cheat, as they do in other Countries. How did you live in your own Country? says one of the Frenchmen. Oh! says the Spaniard, very well for a while; I had a great many thousand Pistoles left me by my Ancestors. What have you done with them? says one of the Frenchmen: I put them into a Policy, says the Spaniard, where I was to have a great Interest for them. And what became of that Policy? says one of the Frenchmen. The Spaniard replied, that at first the Interest was paid, and then Things went merrily enough; but that in a little Time the Body Politick became Bankrupt, and paid neither Principal nor Interest. And did all the Adventurers lose their Money? says one of the Frenchmen. All, replies the Spaniard, except those that were concerned in the Management: and is Money plenty in Spain now? says one of the Frenchmen. Never so scarce, answers the Spaniard; for all Degrees of Men, all Artificers, and Mechanicks left off their Trades, and put their Effects into this Policy, that they might live at their Ease; and now they're all ruined; and of all the immense Sums that were put into this damned Policy, there is not the hundredth Part to be found, and that is in the Hands of those few that cheated the rest; but whether it be sunk again into the Bowels of the Earth, or where it is gone, we cannot tell. At this one of the French Men smiled, and told the Spaniard, he could let him into the Secret; while your Nation was in Pursuit of this imaginary Mountain of Gold, says he, and all your People neglected their Employments; we, with such Trumpery as these, have drawn away the Wealth of your Indian Mines; we sell our Ware in your Country, and carry your Money back to our own; By which Means we inrich our own Country, and impoverish yours: Of all the Treasures that come into Spain, you enjoy only the Name; for while you are busy in Chimera's, our Industry drains all the Treasure from you; and take this with you, that all Projects must end like the Searches for the Philosopher's Stone, that is, in Smoke, where the Interest is paid out of the Principal Stock, and is not supported by any industrious Traffick.
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Printed for W. BOREHAM, at the Angel in Pater-Noster-Row, where
Advertisements and Letters from Correspondents are taken in.
Numb. XXIII